[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.]
[There's another soft, eerie chuckle as his eyes don't look at Tifa...but at the black mist forming around her. Seeing it makes him slowly run his tongue over his lips, the potential taste of it drawing him in.]
...It's all right, Tifa.
[Such a sweet, quiet voice as he reaches out to lightly grab her chin with his fingertips as he's suddenly right up in front of her.]
[Her voice is small and scared, her eyes hesitating before she meets his, the red glow in them reminding her of another time... another version of him that she thought she'd never see again in him.]
[Her fears. Her nightmares. He can see that energy swirling around her, ripe for the taking. If it's from her... Surely it would taste the best?
And once more the scenery around them distorts and changes until they are in a dark dungeon-like cell with Tifa up against the cold, stone wall, bloody chains hanging next to her.]
[Whatever it is—if it's Eustace or something else—that has been trying to wrestle control over the dream, it's managed, because this was not supposed to be part of it at all. It was supposed to just be this little thing, some fun with the costume after winding down from a long day on their feet. A little fantastical indulgence...
But instead, it's bloodied chains that rattle when the room shifts, her back already up to the wall, her body stuck between it and Eustace's as he continues to loom over her.
In her head, she screams at herself to wake up, but it's as if these black wisps have somehow locked her in place, keeping the dream alive with her fear.]
What—!?
[The cuffs shackle around her wrists, as if the thought of them alone was enough to manifest it.]
Eustace, I don't know what's going on, but please wake up...
[It isn't normal for her to feel so afraid when he moves in on her like this, but there is a spike in that nightmare energy when she feels his teeth graze over her lips, and rather than return the sentiment or part them to invite him in...
She gives him a powerful nudge away with her leg. Not a kick, but close to one. As strong as she can make it without hurting him.]
[An apologetic look in spite of her growing panic, and among the vines, the black wisps grow thicker, darker. She tries to control them, to push them back before the thorns can scrape over her bare skin, but unlike the ones they usually share, they only seem to feed off of whatever this is, becoming stronger and more resilient as they snake around her legs.
She can feel fearful tears erupting in her eyes, and she slams them shut, refusing to look at him and to let them fall because she knows as soon as she does...
As soon as they tumble down her cheeks the way that they do, unbidden, and her breathing is running ragged gasps as the air feels like it's being pulled out of her lungs...]
Whatever you are, get back.
[Because it sure as hell isn't Eustace.
She'll try to ignite her flames to burn it all away, maybe even put up a wall between them until she can find a way out, or to at least threaten this thing that has taken over her dream and her husband, but even those are weak, barely moving past her fingertips and becoming more than just a warm, flickering spark.
And in one last ditch effort, she'll try to break her arms free, and when they only pull tighter, she'll cry out, biting back an uncharacteristic curse.]
[She stiffens and trembles, an unusual feeling when it's with Eustace, but she has to remind herself that this isn't him. This is either an illusion of the dream's making, or something had wormed its way in him, like one of those bleeding hearts... only worse. Worse because she can see it all happen right before her eyes, and she can't seem to do anything about it.
As he descends on her tears and then to her neck, she'll fight back, trying to move her head in a way that doesn't allow him access, despite how his breath may feel on her skin. She instead tries to focus on waking up, on trying to take the dream back, on anything but the heat of his mouth on her neck...
Or how her pulse races under his lips, beckoning him to taste, and for once, she doesn't want it to.]
Stop it...
[Bring him back... and get them the hell out of this fantasy turned nightmare...]
[Her words fall on deaf ears, the sound of her pulse, of the energy that flows in those veins drowning out everything else.
And without any further warning, there's the sharp sting of his fangs digging into her skin, breaking through as they sink further and further in, her blood, tinted black, trickling into his mouth...]
[It's such a strange, conflicting feeling. Sobbing and afraid under Eustace when something like this should exhilarate her, thrill her, and it had before. Even when his teeth had grazed just a little bit coarser than usual, it had left her wanting more... and for a single, intoxicating second, her mind confuses one sensation with another. For that single second before his fangs pierce her skin, she feels something else...
Which makes that fear when they finally do so much more palpable when he drinks it up. He will no doubt taste it there, as she tries to keep her breathing from growing too tattered and uneven, tries to keep herself from shaking.
Tries to keep the fear down and her head on straight...
There's a very sudden and very loud CRACK as the wall breaks open and a vine strikes forward like a snake, whipping at Eustace where his mouth is on her neck to swat him away... much to Tifa's surprise.]
[The taste is exquisite, a taste that makes him want to suck harder and drink in more. Drive that fear further and further so he can have more of it... And best of all, it's her fears, her nightmares... He's always indulged in her sweetness, but this? Now he could claim he truly had all of her.
But just as he's about to drink in more, to lose himself in this strange pleasure, there's that loud CRACK and he's struck hard in the face. The force of it tears his teeth out from her skin and send him reeling, swearing as he the blackened blood smears his lips as he glares angrily at the vine.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flamekthunder) wrote2025-04-07 09:12 pm
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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.]
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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...]
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...
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.]
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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...?
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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.]
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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—]
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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.]
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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?]
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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...
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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?
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Until—]
Found you.
[His voice whispers behind her ear, eyes glowing red in the darkness.]
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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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...It's all right, Tifa.
[Such a sweet, quiet voice as he reaches out to lightly grab her chin with his fingertips as he's suddenly right up in front of her.]
I just need...a little more...
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[Her voice is small and scared, her eyes hesitating before she meets his, the red glow in them reminding her of another time... another version of him that she thought she'd never see again in him.]
You're scaring me, Eustace...
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Yeah... That's exactly it...
[Her fears. Her nightmares. He can see that energy swirling around her, ripe for the taking. If it's from her... Surely it would taste the best?
And once more the scenery around them distorts and changes until they are in a dark dungeon-like cell with Tifa up against the cold, stone wall, bloody chains hanging next to her.]
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[Whatever it is—if it's Eustace or something else—that has been trying to wrestle control over the dream, it's managed, because this was not supposed to be part of it at all. It was supposed to just be this little thing, some fun with the costume after winding down from a long day on their feet. A little fantastical indulgence...
But instead, it's bloodied chains that rattle when the room shifts, her back already up to the wall, her body stuck between it and Eustace's as he continues to loom over her.
In her head, she screams at herself to wake up, but it's as if these black wisps have somehow locked her in place, keeping the dream alive with her fear.]
What—!?
[The cuffs shackle around her wrists, as if the thought of them alone was enough to manifest it.]
Eustace, I don't know what's going on, but please wake up...
[She really, really doesn't want to hurt him.]
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It won't take long...
[And then his lips takes hers in a slow kiss, one that has his teeth and tongue running over it as if hunting for a little of that taste.]
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She gives him a powerful nudge away with her leg. Not a kick, but close to one. As strong as she can make it without hurting him.]
This is my dream.
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If you'd just stay still...
[He'll once more approach her, thorny vines now appearing to try and grab at her.]
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She can feel fearful tears erupting in her eyes, and she slams them shut, refusing to look at him and to let them fall because she knows as soon as she does...
As soon as they tumble down her cheeks the way that they do, unbidden, and her breathing is running ragged gasps as the air feels like it's being pulled out of her lungs...]
Whatever you are, get back.
[Because it sure as hell isn't Eustace.
She'll try to ignite her flames to burn it all away, maybe even put up a wall between them until she can find a way out, or to at least threaten this thing that has taken over her dream and her husband, but even those are weak, barely moving past her fingertips and becoming more than just a warm, flickering spark.
And in one last ditch effort, she'll try to break her arms free, and when they only pull tighter, she'll cry out, biting back an uncharacteristic curse.]
Stop—!
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...
But then it changes back, those same tears and voice making his lips twist into a more sadistic smile as he's back on her again.]
...Lovely.
[A dark whisper as he licks up those tears, savoring the taste of that fear contained within them before he travels down her jaw to her neck...]
I'll make it quick.
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As he descends on her tears and then to her neck, she'll fight back, trying to move her head in a way that doesn't allow him access, despite how his breath may feel on her skin. She instead tries to focus on waking up, on trying to take the dream back, on anything but the heat of his mouth on her neck...
Or how her pulse races under his lips, beckoning him to taste, and for once, she doesn't want it to.]
Stop it...
[Bring him back... and get them the hell out of this fantasy turned nightmare...]
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And without any further warning, there's the sharp sting of his fangs digging into her skin, breaking through as they sink further and further in, her blood, tinted black, trickling into his mouth...]
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Which makes that fear when they finally do so much more palpable when he drinks it up. He will no doubt taste it there, as she tries to keep her breathing from growing too tattered and uneven, tries to keep herself from shaking.
Tries to keep the fear down and her head on straight...
There's a very sudden and very loud CRACK as the wall breaks open and a vine strikes forward like a snake, whipping at Eustace where his mouth is on her neck to swat him away... much to Tifa's surprise.]
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But just as he's about to drink in more, to lose himself in this strange pleasure, there's that loud CRACK and he's struck hard in the face. The force of it tears his teeth out from her skin and send him reeling, swearing as he the blackened blood smears his lips as he glares angrily at the vine.]
What the fuck!?
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🎀 fin.