[ CONSUMED ] receiver needs to feed on human blood, sender makes cuts in their skin for them to feed off of. / blood kink , accepting
there was nothing out here. the forgotten vale was well and truly forgotten. left to the wind , to the stone , and to whatever ghosts the snow hadn’t yet buried. the trio huddled together against the word wall's base as it stood a cold monument to silence , before valvari decided her time would be better spent hacking away at one of the towering dragon bones for the museum rather than resting. the fight with the drakes hadn’t drained her much it seemed. or it did and she didn't care. likely the latter. but for serana , her skin still burned faintly beneath her leathers [ . . . ] lit from within by the blood magic she'd stolen mid-battle. it had sustained her just enough to continue to stand until the twin dragons fell , not enough to sate when there was nothing else to feast from. so she sat there next to @arbitratour , spine pressed to the carved stone , gaze lifted toward a sky from which few souls had ever looked back , trying to distract herself from the gnawing teeth in her belly by thought alone and focusing on the rhythmic pace he set as a stone met his blade. it was wonderful , in its way. barely weeks awake , and already she'd seen more than she had in centuries past.
" do you find it strange— " serana began , voice soft with exhaustion , meant only to break the long quiet. but she's halted when mostafa moves. the deliberate sort of movement that meant he'd already quietly decided on something unbeknownst to her. nothing was exchanged between them , only silence as he pulled free a vambrace , rolled up a sleeve , and drew a small blade across the skin of his wrist. had she been younger ─── less tempered by time and quenched by discipline ─── the scent alone would’ve undone her. he knew that. she knew he knew that. he'd given the offer anyway. best not to look a gift horse in the mouth she supposes.
glancing skyward , she'd half-expected some celestial scolding meant to smite. some sort of flare of divine disapproval on his behalf. instead the stars remained indifferent. so her hand comes up , fingers curling gently around his forearm in wordless gratitude. then she leaned in. and drank.
the first rush was fire from the deadlands. heat tearing through her veins in sharp , living contrast to the glacial air of the harbour. it burned her throat , pooled molten in her stomach , threatened to sear the edges of her restraint. but she remembered :: these were only shades of a memory. his memory. with every swallow , she slips further into him. his pain. his faith. his years. each mouthful a wave that rose and broke , rose and broke , again and again and again until she remembered how to breathe between each one so that she wouldn't drown.
it's a tug of his arm , one not too gentle but unable to yank itself free from the vampiric clasp , that washes her ashore and snaps her free. with a quickness serana releases him , eyes falling to the ground below , sleeve coming up to immediately wipe clean any cruor that had dribbled down her lips to the curve of her chin. returning her to as close to normal as she could muster. " thank you , " is said simply but no less grateful. best not dwell on it. not with the way he refuses to meet her gaze as he too returns himself whole. digging into her bag , cool fingers proffer a small bottle of salve. " to heal your skin. " to rid it of any scars that would betray him to isran. then she falls quiet. any mention of how she'd been thinking of being trapped underground during his adventures felt too small a comment to bring up now.
