[But she's broken off when his fingers work her a little more roughly, a gasp falling out of her when she hears the lace ripping under his teeth. Her hips rock in response, clearly seeking more of that pressure and relief as she loses her grip on whatever "power" and "restraint" that she had, if she had any at all.]
[And before she can answer, his mouth latches onto her tit, the dark flesh hardened and stiff as his tongue runs over it before there's the prick of his fangs, dangerously digging into the sensitive flesh before he begins to sick down hard.]
[It was an empty threat, because as soon as his lips close over her breast, the fangs digging in ever so slightly, she's forgotten about it completely, tumbling right back into the here and now as the steam in the room works alongside his mouth and hands to make her dizzy. Dizzy with this new bliss and excitement she's never experienced, and dizzy with the anticipation of what she knows to come...]
It is.
[She answers him weakly, her voice still struggling to stay even when her legs kick in frustration.]
[He smirks against her, nipping her gently before he pulls back to look at her.]
It was never supposed to be.
[And from where he sits he thrusts his finger fast and deep into her, plunging deep to feel her walls clench tightly around him. And as he continues he'll roughly yank down her underwear so he can better see how desperate she swallows and moves against his hand, knowing full well it's not enough and she wants more.]
[She does, and the way her knee hooks over his shoulder and pulls on him is quite telling to how much she more she actually wants. Her walls are already clenching around him, drawing him as deep as he will go, her own hips moving to match the dreadful and brutal pace he's set with his fingers.
She thought she'd been sated earlier, before they had even entered the dream. She was perfectly content and had easily drifted off to sleep, relaxed and in that state of soft, warm state of bliss that he so often puts her under... but she feels it now. She never was, or perhaps she never can be when it comes to him—it was only a seed planted for later, that would grow and grow into the terrible ache that she suffers through now...
One that he stubbornly refuses to ease.
He knows that this isn't enough. He knows that it won't fill her needs... and he still insists...
She asked for this. She wanted it. But now that she is here, she can feel the fires of her own desire burning hot, reflected in the way her eyes have darkened from the bright, vibrant reds to a saccharine brown, pupils blown wide in suppressed lust.]
You were supposed to be the one—
[To work for it, is what she means to say, but her voice is lost to the low, drawn-out, throaty moan that shatters out of her underneath a heave of her chest.]
[Just another laugh as his darkened eyes watch her struggle.]
Try again later.
[With her as the vampire...... A little hard to imagine, but he wouldn't mind it.]
For now...
[His words drift and hang in the air before he dips his head to bring his mouth to her glistening folds, unable to resist any longer. Her scent was already filling him, and now he can immerse himself completely along with the taste he had been craving. He ravishes her with his tongue while his fingers continue to assault her within, hard, deep thrusts against her ceiling as his tongue pushes down from above.
And when he finds her aroused nub, he deliberately rakes it with his sharpened fangs, stimulating a different kind of pleasure and pain as he puts in more pressure and force, as if threatening to bite and suck her out there.
Yet as much as her taste begins to fill him, it's not enough. He wants more, wants...that something that sparked in him earlier, but he doesn't know what it is just yet.
[As soon as she feels his tongue and his mouth close over her...]
Eustace—
[Dream be damned, she drops the act so fast, every little thought she had being wiped clean from her mind as he finally gives her a piece of what she wants, but it's a big enough piece that it has her shaking, gripping onto that pleasure tight so she doesn't fall so quickly. She's already soaked, ripe with the taste of her arousal that trickles down her thighs, all there just for him. An appetizer before the main course.
But when his fangs come down, that intense sharpness that suddenly jolts up into her is quickly washed away by the pleasure that follows, and just when she starts to feel that coil in her belly ready to snap...
She grinds her hips into his face, forcing his fingers knuckle-deep until she's staining his tongue with her first climax that hits her so hard and so suddenly that she hadn't even seen it coming, and her voice breaks as his name blankets the room, the steam swallowing it up.
And along those vines that pull at her that much tighter as she writhes and bends and shivers violently under him are the familiar red starflowers.]
[He hadn't expect her to come so quickly, either, so he's caught by surprise from her reaction. Yet it's quickly changed as his hand grips her hip, slamming her back down as he drinks in everything she gives while continuing to apply that pressure, his own heat stirring from it all. To have her scream for a different reason...
...Scream?
Shaking off the strange thought, he pulls back once she's finished riding it out, a thumb moving to wipe the fluids from his mouth and in chin before licking it up to swallow the rest.]
[Neither did she, but maybe she's still riding that wave from earlier, and maybe he'd teased her just a little too much that the only thing that coil could do was finally snap. The combination of the heat, the vines, the rattling of the chains as she struggled and shook, and everything about him is a dangerous one, mixing into this wicked cocktail that she was all too happy and eager to drink up.
She does flush at his comment—if such a thing is even possible anymore—and averts her eyes away, just a touch embarrassed that she had unfolded so quickly. She thought she'd have more control, more restraint, the ability to stand fast against his wolfish wiles that she loves so much, but...
He found a way to unravel her before she could get a grip on it.]
... Not my fault.
[It's a breathless accusation, her chest heaving, her muscles still quivering as she slowly comes back down from it... and if she had her hands, she'd no doubt be bringing a pillow to her face to hide. Instead, she settles for burying it into her shoulder.]
[If he keeps this up, she'll never come down from it...
But he'll see her just swallow past the heat that's burning in her throat, and she gives a desperate nod of her head, the tiniest little moan being stifled by her shoulder where she buries her face.]
But... I want...
[She lets one eye peer at him with a darkened stare.]
[As he watches, the taste of her still remains on his tongue...
...Yet he's still craving something. Something else.
The sound of her voice keeps echoing in his mind, the thrill of that high pitched cry...
Usually by now he would also be filled with that overwhelming desire to take her and fill his own needs, yet for some reason he feels as if that's not enough. That this isn't enough.
He gives one last rough twisting stroke before he leans forward, hands now on either side of her.]
What do you want me to do?
[His eyes go to her neck, a strange gleam flickering in his eyes before his mouth descends upon her neck, roughly biting her.]
[He will get one more high pitched cry out of her from his fingers before she pulls her face out of hiding, that one sound enough to render her near breathless again as she stares at him...
First, into his eyes, and she can see something swimming in there. Something deep and profound, the lust and the desire so dark that it makes her shiver, a chill settling into her spine.
And then, to his lips, but he gives her no time to answer before his teeth are sinking into her neck that she has to force her voice out with a whine that is so needy that it startles her.]
[A part of him wants to keep her wanting, to keep her begging. But he's also grown a bit starving for her taste.
So she'll finally get her wish.
He'll rush at her lips, teeth grazing the soft skin, tongue thrusting in deep as he slams her hard enough back against the headboard, his hands gripping her jaw and chest.
It's a much rougher, harder, and hotter than usual, as if he's trying to consume her.]
[It is a little surprising just how much more this kiss is. For all the play that they love to do, there is always a very particular, very special care behind it all that Tifa knows is reserved for times like that... but there's something about this kiss that feels hungrier, more desperate, more possessive than usual as the bed's headboard and the chains rattle beneath her moan.
She thinks nothing more of it past that, of course, because she has no choice but to melt into it, eagerly accepting and even encouraging the rougher side of him to come out to play. She always did not-so-secretly love it when he took command like this, when he was just a little rough with her. When he'd take her hair and wrap it around his fist and bury her face into the mattress...
She parts her lips in invitation, and her legs squeeze together at the thought, that pressure already building again as her blood roars through her, the flowers at her wrists burning the deepest crimson they've ever held, their scent heavy in the air mixed with their own...
He could push her over the edge with this alone if he really wanted to, she thinks...]
[More and more... He needs more and more, and yet none of this is enough. Why is it? Why does this is only make him more...
...
Aggravated.
A very sharp, biting kiss, one that almost draws blood before he suddenly pulling back and staring down at her.
What is it?
What is it?
Very roughly he'll suddenly grab her and flip her over, the chains rattling as they twist around. Hands groping her breasts, his teeth once more sink into her flesh, this time into her shoulder. It's a hotter, harsher bite, his fangs really sinking in deeper than they have before.
[Her gasp is devoured by that kiss, the air drawn right out of her and into him as he bites down. Hard. It shocks her, the kiss lacking the amount of delicate tenderness behind it that she is used to, and just when she tries to pull back to question if he's alright, because even she knows that getting into character wouldn't mean going too far... he pulls back instead, leaving her lips red and swollen and throbbing.
And stares at her.
Like that.]
Eustace...?
[She can see something swimming in his gaze, though that isn't what makes her uneasy. It's that she can't figure out what it is. She wants to ask him if he is okay, or if perhaps the dreamscape is getting to him, or maybe the steam that looms thick and heavy in the room, but he's flipping her over without warning, his hands grappling at her chest, and when his lips lower to her shoulder...]
Eustace—
[It starts as a low whimper, her hips bucking when there's a sharp ache between her legs, but it travels up to where his teeth sink... deeper, and deeper...
Deep enough that, despite the pain awakening all sorts of things in her, she feels the warm trickle of blood.
And now she asks. Gently, the panic not yet setting in.]
[The taste of her blood should have brought him back to his senses. Should have been the warning...no, a lot of things should have been the warning siren. Yet that taste, it makes him press his tongue over it, lapping it up with a relish as he begins to suck down hard, as if trying to draw out more of it.
But that's not it...that's still not it. It's still not enough.
So a hand plunges down to between her legs, roughly grabbing her to slam her hips back against him before his fingers once more thrust into her. But just like everything so far, there's none of the usual emotion behind it. Instead it's more mechanic, as if he's trying to get something out of her instead of trying to elicit the usual pleasure.
[It's when he starts to draw out more of her blood that she feels that spike of panic, and she tries to wriggle herself free... for real this time.
Only she's pulled back and trapped, his hand thrusting between her thighs again. She tries to blink through the heat that clouds her eyes when his fingers fill her again, tries not to think about the way all of her blood rushes there to greet him, and instead tries to focus on him. A glance over her shoulder and she can see the way that his eyes have darkened, though not with the same loving desire that he has, even in their most desperate and passionate throes.
It's something different. Something very not him.
Something is wrong... She doesn't know what, but something has gone very, very wrong in this dream. Like it's broken, or like he's broken. Almost like the nightmares have crept back in...
She would beg for him to stop, but would that only provoke him further? If that really is him, would it only make him feel worse? She knows Eustace—she knows this isn't something he would do of his own free will, he would never hurt her, so why...?
There's a fear that lights up in her eyes, chasing away the shadows of her own deeper desires as he plunges his fingers deeper into her.]
Eustace—
[The shackles that bind her suddenly fall away, clattering to the mattress, and the smell of fire and burning vines fill the room as her flames light them up to free her, and she tries to wake them both up from the dream, or at least herself so that she could escape and pull him free after, but...]
Shit...
[It's the pleasure in between the waves of pain that stop her and break her concentration and keep her locked in place before...]
I'm sorry.
[Her legs hook around him suddenly and she flips him over onto his back, reaching around and twisting his arm so that he has no choice but to free her. And she'll try to make a break for it, clambering off the bed, weakened knees be damned. She searches for her dress, but instead grabs his cloak off the floor and tries to run—]
[It all happens too quickly, his mind a complete haze of red as he drinks more of her blood. Because it's not really her blood...
But her dreamotion.
Here, in their dream selves, what he ends up consuming is her dreamotion energy taking the appearance of blood. But he can taste something else instead of the bitter iron, something that tingles on his tongue and makes him want more. And that taste becomes better when she has that fear. That panic.
That slip of nightmare.
So as he lies there a little dazed from her flipping him back, the once bright red on his lips is tinged a darker shade. And he slowly runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes an even darker blue, a glimmer of red shining as they follow after her.]
...Run, little rabbit.
[A low voice as he smiles before he slowly slides off the bed.]
The hunt is on.
[And with an eerie, low chuckle he dashes after her, the vampirism kicking in to allow him to cover greater distances in a short amount of time.
As they run, the dreamscape will start to twist and change, as if he's trying to wrest control of it from her. Or perhaps whatever else is here has a greater influence, trying to change it.
[With his cloak around her, Tifa, by some miracle, manages to leap down over the stairs and breaks her landing onto the bottom floor, but she knows he'll be right behind her.]
Wake up, wake up...!
[She tries to run to the door of the manor, praying that opening it will mean that she can make her escape, but before she can even reach it, the whole dream starts to shift, and she can feel herself losing her grip on it, like there's something stronger, more powerful at wielding dreamotion than her making it change.
It can't be Eustace, can it?
Where there was once a door is now the hallway, as if the house has spun around on its foundation while she remained where she stood... and hearing the rustle of his footsteps, Tifa runs forward into the darkness, the candles going out as she passes through...
This isn't a dream anymore. The nightmare energy is so thick that she can feel it seeping into the wound on her shoulder, making her legs feel heavy, and her lungs feel empty. She trips over her feet with a small cry in pain, and ducks into a random room, suddenly out of breath and hoping that she can find a place to hide...]
Wake up... wake up... It's just a dream.
[She repeats the words to herself again, but how much good is it really doing when all it will do is lure him to her? What good will it do when her heartbeat might as well be a beating drum giving her away?]
[With every step he takes, his surroundings warp. They change from the room, to the hall, to the outside to another room, and another. It's as if it were all water, rippling outward with each change worst than the last.
And he just continues to this slow walk, his low voice echoing both around her and in the distance.]
Tiiiiiifa.
[It's a quiet, almost playful voice as doors creak and glass shatter.]
[The window in the very room that she hides in is one to shatter, and she gasps out loud when it startles her, her arms moving to cover her head and a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound of fear that she knows she's about to make when his voice resounds in her head.
What is going on?
...
She tries to wrest control of the dream back into her hands, but that only makes it worse for her when a trail of black starflowers blooms from where she crouches behind a crate out to the door.]
No, no, no...
[Tifa doesn't know if she should run from him or run to him and try to wake him, but all she knows is that she needs to run away from these flowers. So, she gets up and tries again, swinging the door open and rushing out, trampling on the blossoms on her way back into the hallway that twists and turns before her very eyes.
Twists and turns until she's faced with doors on all sides, and his footsteps echoing louder.]
[She can hear her heart racing in the silence, her breathing just as quick as she tries to discern which door to go through, but—]
Ah—!
[Tifa whirls around at the sound of his voice and means to grab hold of him—his wrists, his arms, his shoulders, whatever she can reach—to give him a shake.]
Eustace, that's enough. Wake up!
[But she freezes when she sees his eyes, the sight of them paralyzing her.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flamekthunder) wrote2025-04-07 09:12 pm
no subject
[But she's broken off when his fingers work her a little more roughly, a gasp falling out of her when she hears the lace ripping under his teeth. Her hips rock in response, clearly seeking more of that pressure and relief as she loses her grip on whatever "power" and "restraint" that she had, if she had any at all.]
—don't make me use it.
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[A low laugh as his teeth graze over her skin.]
Is this not it?
[And before she can answer, his mouth latches onto her tit, the dark flesh hardened and stiff as his tongue runs over it before there's the prick of his fangs, dangerously digging into the sensitive flesh before he begins to sick down hard.]
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It is.
[She answers him weakly, her voice still struggling to stay even when her legs kick in frustration.]
But you're not exactly making it easy...
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It was never supposed to be.
[And from where he sits he thrusts his finger fast and deep into her, plunging deep to feel her walls clench tightly around him. And as he continues he'll roughly yank down her underwear so he can better see how desperate she swallows and moves against his hand, knowing full well it's not enough and she wants more.]
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She thought she'd been sated earlier, before they had even entered the dream. She was perfectly content and had easily drifted off to sleep, relaxed and in that state of soft, warm state of bliss that he so often puts her under... but she feels it now. She never was, or perhaps she never can be when it comes to him—it was only a seed planted for later, that would grow and grow into the terrible ache that she suffers through now...
One that he stubbornly refuses to ease.
He knows that this isn't enough. He knows that it won't fill her needs... and he still insists...
She asked for this. She wanted it. But now that she is here, she can feel the fires of her own desire burning hot, reflected in the way her eyes have darkened from the bright, vibrant reds to a saccharine brown, pupils blown wide in suppressed lust.]
You were supposed to be the one—
[To work for it, is what she means to say, but her voice is lost to the low, drawn-out, throaty moan that shatters out of her underneath a heave of her chest.]
no subject
Try again later.
[With her as the vampire...... A little hard to imagine, but he wouldn't mind it.]
For now...
[His words drift and hang in the air before he dips his head to bring his mouth to her glistening folds, unable to resist any longer. Her scent was already filling him, and now he can immerse himself completely along with the taste he had been craving. He ravishes her with his tongue while his fingers continue to assault her within, hard, deep thrusts against her ceiling as his tongue pushes down from above.
And when he finds her aroused nub, he deliberately rakes it with his sharpened fangs, stimulating a different kind of pleasure and pain as he puts in more pressure and force, as if threatening to bite and suck her out there.
Yet as much as her taste begins to fill him, it's not enough. He wants more, wants...that something that sparked in him earlier, but he doesn't know what it is just yet.
Something darker.]
no subject
Eustace—
[Dream be damned, she drops the act so fast, every little thought she had being wiped clean from her mind as he finally gives her a piece of what she wants, but it's a big enough piece that it has her shaking, gripping onto that pleasure tight so she doesn't fall so quickly. She's already soaked, ripe with the taste of her arousal that trickles down her thighs, all there just for him. An appetizer before the main course.
But when his fangs come down, that intense sharpness that suddenly jolts up into her is quickly washed away by the pleasure that follows, and just when she starts to feel that coil in her belly ready to snap...
She grinds her hips into his face, forcing his fingers knuckle-deep until she's staining his tongue with her first climax that hits her so hard and so suddenly that she hadn't even seen it coming, and her voice breaks as his name blankets the room, the steam swallowing it up.
And along those vines that pull at her that much tighter as she writhes and bends and shivers violently under him are the familiar red starflowers.]
no subject
...Scream?
Shaking off the strange thought, he pulls back once she's finished riding it out, a thumb moving to wipe the fluids from his mouth and in chin before licking it up to swallow the rest.]
...You liked that quite a bit.
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She does flush at his comment—if such a thing is even possible anymore—and averts her eyes away, just a touch embarrassed that she had unfolded so quickly. She thought she'd have more control, more restraint, the ability to stand fast against his wolfish wiles that she loves so much, but...
He found a way to unravel her before she could get a grip on it.]
... Not my fault.
[It's a breathless accusation, her chest heaving, her muscles still quivering as she slowly comes back down from it... and if she had her hands, she'd no doubt be bringing a pillow to her face to hide. Instead, she settles for burying it into her shoulder.]
no subject
Should I do it again?
no subject
But he'll see her just swallow past the heat that's burning in her throat, and she gives a desperate nod of her head, the tiniest little moan being stifled by her shoulder where she buries her face.]
But... I want...
[She lets one eye peer at him with a darkened stare.]
...You...
[Has he not kept himself away enough?]
no subject
...Yet he's still craving something. Something else.
The sound of her voice keeps echoing in his mind, the thrill of that high pitched cry...
Usually by now he would also be filled with that overwhelming desire to take her and fill his own needs, yet for some reason he feels as if that's not enough. That this isn't enough.
He gives one last rough twisting stroke before he leans forward, hands now on either side of her.]
What do you want me to do?
[His eyes go to her neck, a strange gleam flickering in his eyes before his mouth descends upon her neck, roughly biting her.]
no subject
First, into his eyes, and she can see something swimming in there. Something deep and profound, the lust and the desire so dark that it makes her shiver, a chill settling into her spine.
And then, to his lips, but he gives her no time to answer before his teeth are sinking into her neck that she has to force her voice out with a whine that is so needy that it startles her.]
... Kiss me.
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So she'll finally get her wish.
He'll rush at her lips, teeth grazing the soft skin, tongue thrusting in deep as he slams her hard enough back against the headboard, his hands gripping her jaw and chest.
It's a much rougher, harder, and hotter than usual, as if he's trying to consume her.]
no subject
She thinks nothing more of it past that, of course, because she has no choice but to melt into it, eagerly accepting and even encouraging the rougher side of him to come out to play. She always did not-so-secretly love it when he took command like this, when he was just a little rough with her. When he'd take her hair and wrap it around his fist and bury her face into the mattress...
She parts her lips in invitation, and her legs squeeze together at the thought, that pressure already building again as her blood roars through her, the flowers at her wrists burning the deepest crimson they've ever held, their scent heavy in the air mixed with their own...
He could push her over the edge with this alone if he really wanted to, she thinks...]
no subject
...
Aggravated.
A very sharp, biting kiss, one that almost draws blood before he suddenly pulling back and staring down at her.
What is it?
What is it?
Very roughly he'll suddenly grab her and flip her over, the chains rattling as they twist around. Hands groping her breasts, his teeth once more sink into her flesh, this time into her shoulder. It's a hotter, harsher bite, his fangs really sinking in deeper than they have before.
Enough to cut into her skin.]
no subject
And stares at her.
Like that.]
Eustace...?
[She can see something swimming in his gaze, though that isn't what makes her uneasy. It's that she can't figure out what it is. She wants to ask him if he is okay, or if perhaps the dreamscape is getting to him, or maybe the steam that looms thick and heavy in the room, but he's flipping her over without warning, his hands grappling at her chest, and when his lips lower to her shoulder...]
Eustace—
[It starts as a low whimper, her hips bucking when there's a sharp ache between her legs, but it travels up to where his teeth sink... deeper, and deeper...
Deep enough that, despite the pain awakening all sorts of things in her, she feels the warm trickle of blood.
And now she asks. Gently, the panic not yet setting in.]
What's going on...?
no subject
But that's not it...that's still not it. It's still not enough.
So a hand plunges down to between her legs, roughly grabbing her to slam her hips back against him before his fingers once more thrust into her. But just like everything so far, there's none of the usual emotion behind it. Instead it's more mechanic, as if he's trying to get something out of her instead of trying to elicit the usual pleasure.
As if to completely dominate her.
As if to hurt.]
no subject
Only she's pulled back and trapped, his hand thrusting between her thighs again. She tries to blink through the heat that clouds her eyes when his fingers fill her again, tries not to think about the way all of her blood rushes there to greet him, and instead tries to focus on him. A glance over her shoulder and she can see the way that his eyes have darkened, though not with the same loving desire that he has, even in their most desperate and passionate throes.
It's something different. Something very not him.
Something is wrong... She doesn't know what, but something has gone very, very wrong in this dream. Like it's broken, or like he's broken. Almost like the nightmares have crept back in...
She would beg for him to stop, but would that only provoke him further? If that really is him, would it only make him feel worse? She knows Eustace—she knows this isn't something he would do of his own free will, he would never hurt her, so why...?
There's a fear that lights up in her eyes, chasing away the shadows of her own deeper desires as he plunges his fingers deeper into her.]
Eustace—
[The shackles that bind her suddenly fall away, clattering to the mattress, and the smell of fire and burning vines fill the room as her flames light them up to free her, and she tries to wake them both up from the dream, or at least herself so that she could escape and pull him free after, but...]
Shit...
[It's the pleasure in between the waves of pain that stop her and break her concentration and keep her locked in place before...]
I'm sorry.
[Her legs hook around him suddenly and she flips him over onto his back, reaching around and twisting his arm so that he has no choice but to free her. And she'll try to make a break for it, clambering off the bed, weakened knees be damned. She searches for her dress, but instead grabs his cloak off the floor and tries to run—]
no subject
But her dreamotion.
Here, in their dream selves, what he ends up consuming is her dreamotion energy taking the appearance of blood. But he can taste something else instead of the bitter iron, something that tingles on his tongue and makes him want more. And that taste becomes better when she has that fear. That panic.
That slip of nightmare.
So as he lies there a little dazed from her flipping him back, the once bright red on his lips is tinged a darker shade. And he slowly runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes an even darker blue, a glimmer of red shining as they follow after her.]
...Run, little rabbit.
[A low voice as he smiles before he slowly slides off the bed.]
The hunt is on.
[And with an eerie, low chuckle he dashes after her, the vampirism kicking in to allow him to cover greater distances in a short amount of time.
As they run, the dreamscape will start to twist and change, as if he's trying to wrest control of it from her. Or perhaps whatever else is here has a greater influence, trying to change it.
To invoke her fear.]
no subject
Wake up, wake up...!
[She tries to run to the door of the manor, praying that opening it will mean that she can make her escape, but before she can even reach it, the whole dream starts to shift, and she can feel herself losing her grip on it, like there's something stronger, more powerful at wielding dreamotion than her making it change.
It can't be Eustace, can it?
Where there was once a door is now the hallway, as if the house has spun around on its foundation while she remained where she stood... and hearing the rustle of his footsteps, Tifa runs forward into the darkness, the candles going out as she passes through...
This isn't a dream anymore. The nightmare energy is so thick that she can feel it seeping into the wound on her shoulder, making her legs feel heavy, and her lungs feel empty. She trips over her feet with a small cry in pain, and ducks into a random room, suddenly out of breath and hoping that she can find a place to hide...]
Wake up... wake up... It's just a dream.
[She repeats the words to herself again, but how much good is it really doing when all it will do is lure him to her? What good will it do when her heartbeat might as well be a beating drum giving her away?]
no subject
And he just continues to this slow walk, his low voice echoing both around her and in the distance.]
Tiiiiiifa.
[It's a quiet, almost playful voice as doors creak and glass shatter.]
I thought this was what you wanted...
no subject
What is going on?
...
She tries to wrest control of the dream back into her hands, but that only makes it worse for her when a trail of black starflowers blooms from where she crouches behind a crate out to the door.]
No, no, no...
[Tifa doesn't know if she should run from him or run to him and try to wake him, but all she knows is that she needs to run away from these flowers. So, she gets up and tries again, swinging the door open and rushing out, trampling on the blossoms on her way back into the hallway that twists and turns before her very eyes.
Twists and turns until she's faced with doors on all sides, and his footsteps echoing louder.]
Eustace!
[She cries out to him.]
What is going on with you?
no subject
Until—]
Found you.
[His voice whispers behind her ear, eyes glowing red in the darkness.]
no subject
Ah—!
[Tifa whirls around at the sound of his voice and means to grab hold of him—his wrists, his arms, his shoulders, whatever she can reach—to give him a shake.]
Eustace, that's enough. Wake up!
[But she freezes when she sees his eyes, the sight of them paralyzing her.]
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🎀 fin.