THE TORN
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@alucardrakul
THE TORN
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@etienneulven location: the keep? or did they find that cabin? notes: vague <3 but here's a jumping off point
These days it was hard to be apart - so they rarely were. Alucard found himself shadowing Etienne's steps, even when trying to work his thoughts would drift to the presence of the wolf. He'd listen for the telltale sound of his footsteps in the floor above - awake with a start in the middle of the night to find him breathing beside him. All was well - and yet all Alucard felt now was fear, fear that once again, this would all be over.
"Hey." Simple. Short. Sweet. The affirmation came daily, because at every turn Alucard found himself holding a breath he didn't know he needed as badly as he did.
Gavin Leatherwood
Person: @alucardrakul Location: Caer Glass, thee Lab It's been days and every time he walks by he hears something breaking and every time he raises a hand to the door and promptly leaves before his skin can make contact with it. Three of them were missing, it wasn't something that was lost on him, he'd had his own fair share of throwing things around after Progress Day. But while he'd been frustrated, he had lost colleagues, peers. That wolf had come to Caer Glass and had immediately moved into the dhampir's quarters, he'd glimpsed the inky shadow wolves and those that looked like ghosts running together in the courtyard, Alucard had lost more than just a peer. Isak chooses not to knock, instead he opens the door and slips inside, Alucard would know it was him anyways. Inside, the lab was in disarray, the dhampir's back to him, and Isak closes the door behind him and practically tucks himself against it's frame. "Have you fed?" Arms across his chest, his tone is quiet, he's not there to ask if the other is alright, anyone with eyes could see his distress.
What was it they were fighting for, again?
Amid the wreckage of whatever future Alucard was meant to design, he could see only the sum total of everything that was missing. A wolf at the foot of his coffin with pained, aging eyes, and too many questions that Alucard didn’t have the answers to. Had he fed?
No, no of course not.
Like a door snapped shut, the a’dam fell around Etienne and all at once the dhampir felt all but cut off from the thrall. Their connection was there, gossamer-thin but present until now. Alucard hadn’t fed since that morning, two weeks later and if the door had closed, the click of the lock was a nail in their coffin. He’d felt that moment come to a close - when the last of him finally left Etienne’s system and the last of the wolf had washed from Alucard’s system.
The cloak he’d forgotten that morning was still slumped over the back of a chair in their chamber, the furs that Etienne insisted on piling in their coffin remained, and all the places where their skin had pressed still remembered the wolf’s impression. All these things were true, and yet-
And yet-
What was it they were fighting for, again?
Only half dressed and less cognisant, garnet eyes and gaunt features craned unnaturally to stare at the legionnaire behind him. Alucard’s lab was in ruins and the narrative was clear: he did not wish to be disturbed. Blood he’d long-stopped crying dried and matted against his face, and flaked where it fell on his chest. Either from fatigue or malnourishment, but Alucard couldn’t conjure anything beyond the rage that simmered beneath still waters.
“Get out, Isak.”
looking good
I want to swim
SABRINA CARPENTER & GAVIN LEATHERWOOD
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GAVIN LEATHERWOOD Photographed by Doug Inglish for Behind the Blinds
@etienneulven location: Aventia notes: in which we're gonna write Etienne getting captured
The anguished screams of the darkspawn were a lot to take in, but the dhampir suffered the relentless, tortured wails of the Dark One’s army as the Kossith continued to mill about the city of Aventia below. Not too long ago, Alucard had failed miserably in his charge to try and defend the city, failed to lead an expedition in the mountains to find the root of the army’s intelligence - but fortunately Riandur had been there to pick up where the legionnaire fell short. It comforted Alucard that while he settled into silence, he did not share in his suffering alone.
Etienne, at his side, had fought this losing battle as well. Now foreign warriors made taking back Aventia seem simple, the legion of the dead was known for taking an any means approach - but the Kossith bordered on cruelty. If it was even possible to feel sympathy for something like a darkspawn, the screams of these mindless creatures were enough to invoke something akin to pity. The dreadnought in the harbor, the lingering occupation, Alucard did not like it, but it was not the legion’s job, or place, to involve themselves in politics.
“They made it look easy.” Was all Alucard said instead, no small amount of bitterness in his voice. Again, he thought about Veilcrest, about the innovations born from Progress Day - the weaponry that was promised couldn’t come quickly enough. The Last Battle demanded it.
Photos taken by Mekhi Turner
A hand slips from Alucard's shoulders to grip lightly at the back of the dhampir's hair and for a second he was curious. Gently, his fingers take purchase in dark locks, and he pulls. Just enough to pull Alucard's head to the side so he can nip lightly at the spot just below his ear. "You like the biting." It's not a question, he could feel it in the way the body against his tensed and it always gets him curious what else would warrant such a reaction. His free hand slides from the dhampir's shoulder, over the dip of his lower back until his fingers were able to skim the top of Alucard's underwear. Without much warning, his sink into the side of his lover's throat and there's nothing tentative about it, the skin between his teeth cool and pulseless. The growl that leaves him is low and possessive as he bites down even harder, almost at his own threshold of too much. A coppery taste touches his tongue and it's not a deterrent. Etienne pauses there, just holds Alucard's skin between his teeth, growl vibrating against it as his back arches against the earth. Jaws unclenching, he presses a kiss to what would be a bruise for just a moment as his thumb slides over the sharp line of Alucard's hip. "Can I try something?" He can't possibly get any redder than he is anyways and he'd blame it on the fact he was half hard in the middle of the woods under the light of the moon for daring to ask.
"You could say that." Alucard muttered, his spine curving as Etienne tugged his head to the side, the sharp tug at his hair sending a jolt of something electric down his back. It was a slow burn, that familiar ache of want coiling tight, drawn taut like a bowstring. And then Etienne's teeth were at his throat again, sinking in, harder, sharper - possessive in a way that made something in Alucard keen.
The pain barely registered before it bled into pleasure, a rich, decadent thing that flooded his senses. His fingers clenched at the wolf’s ribs, sharp nails biting into heated flesh as his own mouth parted on a silent gasp. Etienne's growl vibrated against his skin, low and rough with a dark promise that sent a tremor through Alucard’s limbs. He could feel the sharp press of teeth lingering even as they relented, as a kiss was pressed to the abused skin, searing in its tenderness.
A laugh, quiet and breathless, curled from his lips, though there was nothing amused about it. He was dizzy, untethered, his fangs still aching, his body thrumming with the aftermath of hunger and something deeper still. The hand at his hip, warm and wandering, was an anchor and a temptation both. He could feel the heat of Etienne's breath against his skin, his question murmured like a confession between them, the words unraveling in the thick air.
Alucard exhaled dead air, slow, deliberate, like savoring the last taste of wine on his tongue. A flash of garnet, a glint of the dhampir's fangs in the moonlight:
“Anything."
Gavin Leatherwood | Behind The Blinds (2025)
GAVIN LEATHERWOOD Instagram Story 3/25/25
Alucard's body tenses beneath him and Etienne can't help but feel quite pleased with himself over it. Every noise the dhampir makes is purposeful, out of emotion and not necessity and that thrills him. Yet another growl and he's about to really bite down when he finds himself on his back on the forest floor again. And then Alucard's fangs are at his neck and there's no moment of pause, they sink into the soft sinews of the column with ease. While he is familiar with the act by now, Etienne doesn't think he'll ever actually be used to it. It is the same every time, his body tenses as his fingers cling to Alucard's shoulders, his head tipped back and breath coming in soft pants. There's pain but only for a second and then white hot thrum of pleasure beneath his skin as his nails bite crescents into bare flesh, his back arching. And then as soon as it'd happened, it was over and Alucard was mouthing at his jaw, mouth sticky and bloodstained and Etienne wondered if that was supposed to be a deterrent. It wasn't. His head tilts back against the ground, fingers soothing over skin he'd scratched at only to sink in slightly again. "Probably all the mead." He teases, breath still uneasy and heart pounding in his chest. "How is it fair that you get to taste me?" It's cheeky, he's far too aware of the fact that a thin layer of fabric are keeping them from being bare to the moonlight. Shifting just slightly, his teeth nip at Alucard's earlobe, tugging lightly.
The thick, rhythmic pounding of Etienne’s heart, the siren’s call thrumming through his veins. It filled the spaces between them, pulsed in the heat beneath his hands, curled in the air like incense, cloying and intoxicating. The hunger in him did not fade, even as his own body cooled from satisfaction; if anything, it deepened, sharpened, became something more potent than simple thirst.
Alucard pressed closer, drawn like a tide to the moon, the scent of iron and warmth still thick in his mouth, staining his tongue. It was a slow thing - the way he traced the damp path of his bite with his tongue, sealing it closed with lazy intent, savoring the way the wolf’s body reacted beneath him. The press of nails against his back, sharp crescents carved into his skin, the slow arching of a body that was never truly still.
It was the pulse that undid him. A steady drumbeat beneath his lips, hammering against his teeth, urging him to sink back in, to drink deeper, to claim until nothing remained between them but breath and blood. He could feel it everywhere - against his mouth, beneath his fingertips, in the way the heat of Etienne’s skin seeped into his own. A living, breathing thing, writhing beneath him, offering itself up in quiet surrender. Alucard managed to resist still, but his fingers twitched, his body shuddered - with the wolf, all the dhampir came to learn of was want.
A groan built low in his throat, dark and wanting, his fangs throbbing from stem to tip with the potent need to sink back into flesh, to drown himself in that molten, storm-swept taste. But he held himself there, lips parted, tongue tracing the faintest outline of the pulse just beneath Etienne’s jaw. Lips mingling with tongue, teeth grazing Etienne's battered flesh. The temptation to lose himself entirely was so close, a razor-thin line between hunger and the dark - lust, life, love.
He shuddered, breathless despite his dead lungs that never needed air to begin with, and let his lips part against the wolf’s skin, pulsing and waiting, he tasted the honey from the mead at Etienne's reminder, then felt his lips part to catch the moonlight.
"Then bite harder - and I'll bite back."
Alucard’s fingers eased from their grip, trailing instead to rest lightly at Etienne’s sides. The heat between them hadn't faded, but shifted, less a fire set to consume, more an ember left smoldering, warm and steady in the dark.
Etienne had asked, voice low, teasing, but Alucard could hear the truth beneath it. Could feel it in the way he was still pressed close, the way his fingers curled lightly into the fabric at Alucard’s waist, as if reluctant to let go. “Worse,” Alucard murmured, lips barely moving, the word a ghost of a thing between them. He let his fingers skim up, tracing the line of Etienne’s ribs before settling over his heart, the steady rhythm beneath his palm grounding. It’s always worse.
“Let’s go back to bed.” Quiet, intimate, pleading quietly. He tugged lightly on Etienne's fingers to lead him to the comfort of limbs tangled beneath heavy furs, the safety of the coffin, and the quiet of their dark.
Etienne doesn't press any further, he lets the word hang in the air between them and he offers the slightest nod of understanding. They would cross that bridge when they came to it, for the moment he was just content with the fact Alucard had talked about his father at all. Lips pressing to the side of the dhampir's face, right against his cheekbone, he takes a second to just feel the cool touch of Alucard's palm against his chest. Etienne wishes he could keep him there, right where his heart was, surrounded by his ribcage. Like he could keep him safe there. He lets himself be led, he curls into what he's considered 'his' side of the plush coffin, tight against Alucard's side. His face finds the side of the other man's neck, his cheek against his shoulders as they lay there wrapped in furs. He has one hand under his pillow and the other over Alucard's still heart. He wished he could climb in there, too. In a way, he felt like he was already there.
END