[The tears that had momentarily chilled on her cheeks in shock threaten to spill again at that simple, poignant answer. What is he doing? He’s staying with her, now, when she was afraid to be alone but so afraid to not be. Of course he is, it’s Liem, and after everything they’ve been through together she shouldn’t still be surprised, but…
Her lip quivers, and her fingers spasm anxiously when he takes her hand despite the stains and the claws and the strange, elongated and bony shape that she didn’t even properly recognize as her own. If she just dug her claws in… if she lost herself and dug her claws in, would it at least not be poisonous? She doesn’t want to test it…]
But now, you…
[Did that mean he couldn’t use those healing spells of his? Could he not change his shape anymore? She had to honor the risk he was taking and keep swallowing down the saliva rising her her mouth every time she took a whiff of how manna-rich he seemed.
She can’t help but look down at herself when he offers her assistance, down at what, admittedly, wasn’t helping her feel more like a person than a beast- her chin, chest, and hands still stained with fowl blood. There was… the river, or the little shower stall behind the barn, wet cloths from the kitchen… and it might be hard to change handcuffed like this, but…]
Please…
[The cuff around her slightly raw wrist brushes against her skin and pulls her eyes back to where they were linked, the soft glow of the charged cuff. She… she should buy a pair…]
I wish… I’d had these, when Liem was like this…
[If she had… Could he have been spared some of the pain of that cursed week? Would it have made it easier for him to keep control? Or with the curse… would it have even helped at all… ?]
[Liem fixes a look of confidence on his face as he takes Konoha's hand and begins gently to lead her away from the corpse beneath the linden tree, back towards the shelter of the barn. He's well aware of the danger that he's placed himself in; even without any paralytic venom, Konoha still has sharp teeth and claws, and she has always been stronger than him, even while not transformed. And he knows well that the effects of the bindings don't completely nullify this transformation's curse. Locked within her reach is not a safe place for him to be right now.
But that doesn't change his resolution to remain by her side. To some extent, he feels like he has to—not just because of what he did to her, but for the sake of every single person he harmed during those terrible nights months ago, and every single person she might pose a danger to if left to her own devices. He was never able to tally all the hurts he'd done during his vaguely recalled curse, and that unknown number still weighs on him. He doesn't want such a weight to lie on her conscience as well.]
Neither of us could have known that you would need such a thing.
[She would need to carry them with her all the time to account for a situation like that, where she hadn't been expecting to see him. She can't possibly blame herself for how things ended up happening.]
Besides… they were only a partial solution in any case. I used my own pair during subsequent nights, but it never helped completely.
[He's loath to say that eventually the blood-thirst had overwhelmed him even with them on, and he had ventured into the city to hunt regardless. That's not a comforting thing to hear right now.]
[It's easy to follow Liem, a bit shamefully so, when it means acknowledging she feels unable to lead in this state, taking the easy way out of just agreeing to what someone else offers for her. But there isn't... There shouldn't be need for shame or such things between them, not anymore, she should just go and be grateful, but what she is ashamed of... is that she doesn't look at the chicken corpse in the roots of the linden tree.
She's found something far more delicious seeming.
But walking is... disconcerting, and though she does her best to move towards the barn with him... it is slow going. She's learned how to operate two legs, but now she has two that don't move like human ones, she's some sick hybrid between forms, hunched down harshly both to match his height and also to try and minimize her presence. In the end, she has to manage the walk on three legs, using her oddly elongated arm as an occasional foreleg, and occasional tissue, wiping every few steps at the tears drying on her cheeks.]
Still...
[Maybe she'll buy a pair next she can anyway. And maybe it's scary, to hear him say that... it hadn't helped him completely. That first time she'd gone feral Chiron had still been at her side, and he had been physically capable of taking her down, but now... She wipes more tears off her face in between her awkward, shuffling steps, hoping that she feels herself weakening, hoping that strange sensation in her body is the poison shriveling, strength withering... because the bloodlust hasn't abated at all, gnawing at the back of her mind.
[Despite his desire to tend to Konoha properly, Liem tries not to hurry her along too much as they walk back to the barn. He's very aware of her awkward gait, the way she needs one hand to act as a makeshift foreleg as they progress, and he doesn't want to make things any harder on her than they need to be. He doesn't want her to feel any more dehumanized than her transformation has already made her.]
Not entirely.
[He pushes the barn door open a little wider so they can enter together, and scans the interior to see if anything else is obviously amiss. He's been here often enough that he knows already where Konoha's cloths and cleaning materials are kept, where her first aid kit lives in ordinary circumstances. But he wouldn't necessarily call these circumstances ordinary.]
When I was cursed, I felt wrung-out, empty, like I was withering to nothing and needed whatever I could get to sustain me. It was all-consuming. I couldn't think about anything else.
[He doesn't know if that's exactly how Konoha feels now. She seems more herself than he'd been for most of his curse, so maybe the Nuckelavee's absence has lessened the hunger that comes with his form.]
That's not normally how I feel. Normally my want for blood is more of a… lust. It's a very physical experience, and it can be overwhelming at times, but I don't feel like I'll waste away if I deny it.
[Konoha doesn't want these circumstances to be ordinary. No matter how she should have become used to the transformations, she'd gotten too complacent with assuming she would either be the barely-changed unicorn or the bipedal dryad, and this- at least the Nuckelavee had been sealed, perhaps that was why she was capable of regaining her sanity... and why her touch didn't leach his manna away, like his touch had drained her and left her near crystallization that dark night.
But he describes it as being unable to think about anything else, and she... She can think about other things. Can't she? Even as she follows Liem into the barn and finds that she's come up right behind him, close enough to inhale deep of his smell and how delicious it seems now, in a far more hunger-driven way than how she usually appreciated his scent...]
Oh, that's good...
[Com... paratively. She knew well about resisting lust, didn't she? She'd done it every time she went into season for years, and she'd survived, even if she'd been left feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. If hunger for blood could be like that...
She swallows, curling her free clawed hand around the key-shaped pendant once more to remind herself. Good, she could be good... She would be good... (Even if a voice in the back of her head wondered if it would be bad to indulge, just... just a little. After all, she wouldn't blame Liem if he gave in to the urge and asked, it was part of his nature, and if it was part of her nature, now-)]
Ouch-
[Thankfully, she hits her large rack of antlers on the doorframe, which pulls her abruptly out of those darker thoughts into a wince and hiss, accidentally jerking on his twist where they were bound together as she instinctively tries to reach for her head and cradle the bloody points where the antlers erupted from her skull.
At least... nothing in her home seems amiss beyond some traces of blood here and there in a line from her bed to the kitchen from where she'd paced back and forth trying to keep control of herself.]
[Konoha's pained hiss pulls a frown from Liem, more from concern than pain despite the sudden tug on his wrist. He lifts his free hand to trace gently over the base of one newly-emerged antler, stroking carefully at the bloodied skin of her forehead.]
Sorry about that, [he murmurs. He should have thought to caution her at the door, considering how much she already had on her mind.]
Let's take care of this, shall we?
[He lets his hand fall with one last stroke of her hair, then begins to lead her more cautiously across the barn, collecting some washcloths and heading over to the sink. Unfortunately, he doesn't think undressing for a proper shower will really be possible with them cuffed together like this, but even the cursory cleansing they can manage in her kitchen will still be an improvement. Liem turns the water on warm, then he starts with her hands, lifting the one he's cuffed and gently laving it under the flow of water. He's careful of her wrist, wary of the angry flesh there, but gently cleans as much of the blood and dirt from her skin as he can.]
I know it's hard to be like this. [He talks quietly as he moves his hands over hers.] To have cravings that seem… debased. But it's not your fault, Konoha.
[As pathetic as it feels to her, in a way, to want to be coddled at her age, in a shape that to her seems so monstrous that no one would naturally wish to touch it… She finds that she wants it, she does, to be pet and spoiled and told that everything was going to be fine, if she just closed her eyes and slept she would surely wake up better…
Konoha bites down another little pained sound and nuzzles into the touch on her bloodied brow, nodding a bit wretchedly. She wanted to be clean. To not smell her own blood, the chicken’s blood, in the hopes that perhaps without that his blood wouldn’t seem so appetizing. (Even though a part of her knows… it will still be just as manna-rich after she’s clean, it will still seem so—)
She follows him in her awkward shuffle to the sink, such a different gait than the swift, terrifying way of moving she’d displayed more under the influence of the Wechuge before. Obediently, she presents her hands for the washing, long spine hunching into a curl beside him, cloven hooves and odd cervid but two? legs akimbo on the dirt and rug flooring.
It feels good… his manna. Surely it’s working. That and the gem cuffs, they’re definitely working and they’re definitely going to make it easier not to want to dig her teeth into the side of his neck, that still looks so delicious even with all the fur she would get in her mouth-]
… how do you do it?
[Her voice creeps out in a shameful whisper, wanting and hoping that his experiences at abstinence will somehow be enlightening for her even with the inevitable differences between a natural dhampir and an emerald transformation.
Or maybe… maybe he didn’t really hold back from doing it, and just like so many other times he friends have kept secrets from her, it would turn out to be something he just hadn’t told her because he thought it would upset her, that it might scare her. She’s heard that one plenty.
And something twists, deep in her gut, hungry and wanting, as she surrenders her hands to his, pupils blown out as she watches him gently tend to her. Liem was kind… and he was good, and loyal, and he loved her enough, surely, to let her—
[Liem’s touch stays gentle on her hands as he washes first one, then the other, patting them dry with a towel with a mindful care for the rope burns on her wrists. The claws look a little less fearsome without the blood and dirt caked over them. They’re still strange, still warped almost unrecognizable from the gentle, callused hands he’s used to—but when they’re clean, they seem just a little bit more civilized. Like they could belong to a friend and not a beast.]
Ah, well…
[The question discomfits him a little, making him pause in the act of wetting a washcloth to tend to her face. The subject of his thirst, and his relationship with it, isn’t something he often speaks of, even with the people who are familiar with his nature. It’s not a topic that he’s used to thinking of without shame.
But after the small hesitation, he lifts the damp cloth to begin cleaning her face, starting first with her forehead and working his way gently down.]
In some ways, my world made it very easy for me to avoid drinking blood. I was not prepared to force myself upon the unwilling, and few would admit to wanting to submit to such a thing.
[This did not make it simple to suppress the desire to sink his teeth into something, to lap the blood from whatever flesh he might get his hands on—that of backyard fowl, of scurrying vermin, sometimes, in moments of desperation, even his own wrist. There was little satisfaction to be gained from such activities, but there were times that he simply couldn’t force himself to stop.
But it seems so personal to speak of such things. Even with the direct relevance it has on Konoha’s own situation, Liem can force himself only grudgingly to talk about it at all.]
There were of course times I did drink… from animals… or from a willing person. But… [He presses his lips together, pausing to fold the washcloth so its cleaner side is exposed. His voice is quiet.] It was never a frequent occurrence. To indulge with any regularity would be akin to dependence on liquor, or drugs, and such vices are meant to be below Abadar’s priesthood. They’re seen as destructive, to the self and to the community.
[The cleanliness... does help. Not as much as she wishes it would, but having no blood on her claws feels like a start. Or at least, she hopes it does. It makes her more eager to surrender her face to his ministrations and the warm cloth... and to inhale his scent so close, so appetizing seeming where his sleeve slides up to expose more of his wrist.]
Oh...
[She listens, she swears she's listening, because... If anyone knew about how not to drink blood it would surely be Liem? But if she were hoping for some innovative solution, some trick she hadn't been able to think of herself... she's disappointed. She has no right to be, but she is. It seemed the only way he kept himself drinking occasionally and not frequently was strength of will... the same sort applied to keep oneself off drink or vice... and before the Wechuge, Konoha had considered herself strong enough to avoid similar things. Now...]
Liem is so strong...
[Finally, her voice creaks out in a whisper, the hand bound to him yearning to tangle with his fingers but afraid to, for fear that even as cold as he was in comparison to her that it would be warm enough to stir something inside of her, that the feel of his pulse would make her ravenous. She has to swallow again, she's salivating too much at the idea--]
I'm afraid-
[Another swallow, to admit it, to try and put it into words. She wanted not to do it at all, she was afraid to find something as taboo as drinking blood to be delicious, but also-]
Even if... someone volunteered for that...
[Which is also... difficult for her to imagine, until she remembers that she had offered her blood to Chiron with no hesitation at all when he'd admitted that he needed mana to survive and it could be found there. Until she remembers that night in the forest when the Wechuge in Liem's shape had been savaging her neck and she'd thought... if he'd only asked, she would have given it to him. But that was... Chiron and Liem seemed strong, and used to those means and urges, but her- ?]
What if I couldn't stop... ?
[The chicken certainly hadn't survived her, had it?]
[Even as Konoha talks, as she confesses her worries bit by bit, Liem continues to clean the stains from her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. He rinses the cloth free of most of the blood, then returns one last time to clean her mouth, her jaw, her throat. For modesty's sake, he doesn't continue down to her chest. Not without asking at least.]
It's always possible something like that will happen.
[He admits it quietly, returning his hands to the sink so he can rinse the cloth one more time. Whenever blood drinking comes up, there's always the risk of cutting too deeply, of biting in the wrong place. Sometimes wounds bleed more freely than anticipated, or someone misjudges their limits, and indulgence turns to genuine injury. It can be a dangerous activity.]
It can be difficult to think about other things while drinking. And learning how much is safe takes practice. It's better to try hunting animals first.
[At least a killed rabbit or deer can be skinned and cooked later on. Control is less of an issue. As he considers the issue further, he squeezes out the washcloth and offers it to Konoha in a silent question.]
But if you're going to try, it's vital to make sure the other person has the ability to end things. You can't be on top of them, or hold them close while you're drinking, even if you feel in control.
[Personally, Liem finds his lap to be a very nice place for the person he's drinking from to be, but that might not be the kind of vibe that Konoha wants in this situation.]
[Even if she hates to hear it, Konoha appreciates that Liem is being honest with her, not sugarcoating anything... if the concept of drinking blood could be coated with sugar in the slightest. Her fangs prick into her bottom lip, tight enough that she nearly draws blood, but she can't do that, either... So she tries to focus on anything else. On the sound of Liem washing the blood cloth, diluting the scent... on the rustle of her hair as she cocks her head and sends strands of it caught in her antlers sliding or slipping down... on the new weight around her neck...]
I don't want an animal...
[She doesn't actually even realize she said it, quiet and reluctant, because what she wants more than anything... is what he tells her that she shouldn't. All the Wechuge body wants to do is take control from someone else, to hold them close enough to hear their hearts beating frantic and scared, to crawl on top of them and pin them down and dig her teeth in-
She slips up, and the fang digging into her lip does break skin. Even though it was her own blood, not the heat of something more delicious... it has enough manna in it to make her pupils dilate to more excited pricks of dark in the sickened color of her iris, makes a shudder run through her body even weakened as it was by the Gem bindings...
Konoha snatches the washcloth Liem offers her too quickly, too roughly, clutching it tight in her clawed hand and beginning to scrub, hard, at the blood staining her chest. If she just rubbed it off, if she just got rid of it... If she just kept sucking on her split lip, a rumbling, sick sound building in to the back of her throat...]
[Liem watches her scrub compulsively at the stains on her chest, her motions rough with a familiar desperation. He knows how it is to be overcome with the need to do something, anything to get your mind off of your desires. He knows about the urge to replace hunger and need with sex, with pain, with exhaustion, with whatever will serve to distract body and mind from the shameful obsession with blood.
But those distractions can be dangerous too—to the self, and sometimes even to others as well, in the end. Liem draws nearer, cupping his hand against her cheek and encouraging her to look at him. The hand cuffed to hers slides gently into her grasp.]
[She loves so much about him in this moment. He is so patient, and so kind. He trusts her, she can tell, she can see because instead of trying to wrest out of the cuff or keep his distance he steps closer, he touches her, he cups her cheek so gently in his hand, she can feel the shape of his brand against her skin... and for a second, she feels like she might be able to swallow down those urges again.
So she swallows, trying to clear the saliva from her mouth to answer him, but this time it goes down with hints of her own blood, her own manna, and just that-]
Liem, I'm sorry, I'm-
[Her voice cracks again, trying to look at his face but she can't stop going back to his wrist, so- so close to her face and she can sense the blood pumping sluggish and dark just beneath the thin skin there, so foul and dark but so rich with the manna part of what she desired...]
I'm going to do it, I know I'm going to try and do it-
[Maybe he could fight her off. She was much larger, more muscular, but she was cuffed... Except so was he, so what if he couldn't, he had- did he have a blade on him? Did she want him to use such a thing on her? No, of course not, that was even more terrifying, but-]
Tell me... Tell me you won't forgive me...
[It's the only thing she can think of that might prevent her from sinking her teeth into his wrist.]
[Even when Konoha admits that she's going to bite him, Liem refuses to take her statement as a threat. His thumb strokes the damp, freshly cleaned skin of her cheek. His hand squeezes hers gently, comfortingly. He doesn't consider pulling away; it's far too late for that, in any case.]
You know I will, Konoha. [He says it softly, reasonably.] Even if I said that I wouldn't forgive you, you would know it wasn't true.
[He can't condemn her for giving in to the same urge that had resulted in him attacking her all those months ago during autumn. Maybe it's tempting to do so, because some part of him still does condemn himself for that failure—but Konoha forgave him so readily, was so willing to place her trust in him even after he nearly killed her. He can't fail to grant her that same forgiveness, when he knows that harming him is the very last thing she would willingly do.
And she must know that, so what point would there be in pretending otherwise? He won't add to her shame and guilt by heaping blame upon her for something beyond her control. Instead, he'd much rather try to make the experience as painless as possible for both of them. It doesn't need to be a repeat of the harrowing experience Konoha had met in the woods, which had left a bite on her neck and a hoof-shaped bruise on his ribs.]
Even when she begged him to say it, she'd known it would be a lie. She'd wanted to believe that... that she could perhaps then believe that lie, just enough to reign in the foreign urges that were so close to overtaking her senses, but. That had been foolish, hadn't it? He had just wiped her face clean and yet hot tears stain her cheeks again so soon.
Because she is afraid. It had been easy to forgive Liem for attacking her as a Wechuge because... he hadn't been himself at all, seized completely by the curse. But she- She was herself, still, enough to blame herself and yet despite that... If she were being kinder, she might remember that she had no defense at all against an urge like this, new and hungry and all-consuming despite how strong-willed she normally considered herself to be. But its hard to be kind when what she keeps fantasizing about is everything he'd just told her was what you shouldn't do when drinking blood.]
I'm sorry, Liem...
[If she could at least... if she could at least follow the "rules". Don't be on top of them, don't hold them close while you're drinking, don't bite too deeply, don't bite in the wrong place, don't misjudge their limits... She repeats it over and over in her head. He holds her clawed hand so gently, but her grip grows tighter and tighter, quaking enough that it rattles the Gembinding cuff on her rope-raw wrist.
Liem would forgive her. She'd forgiven him. But just because she'd forgiven him didn't mean the experience itself hadn't been horrifying to her, that it didn't still occasionally appear in her nightmares, in scenes where his eyes were glowing in the bloody dark and his teeth were savaging her neck. She didn't want to be in his nightmares, so instead of continuing to try and hold it back, risking losing control-
A strange, mournful keen builds in the back of her throat as she nuzzles into his hand on her cheek, her lips curling back to reveal teeth grown even sharper than before, her jaw creaking open... and her fangs sink as gently as she can manage into his wrist, hesitating just a moment before she can't resist any longer and she pierces skin, her moan of relief muffled in a wet gag as his dark blood hits her tongue and begins to fill her mouth.]
[As much as he can while she's in the throes of this compulsion, Liem wants to ease the fear and disgust that Konoha ends up suffering. His fingers stroke along the back of her hand even as she clutches painfully tight at his own. He doesn't flinch or shy away when she turns toward his wrist and peels her lips back from sharp teeth, but simply tilts his arm slightly for her, his hand leaving her cheek so that her mouth can find his wrist.
And he doesn't cry out when she sinks her teeth into his flesh, but only gasps at the sharp sting, his fingers twitching involuntarily against her skin. His eyes are locked, transfixed, onto her as she latches unwillingly onto his arm. He's never been bitten like this before, without the frenzy of battle to dull the pain and distract from the sensation of his blood spilling reluctantly from the wound. His heart jerks against his ribs, but he has to force his still lungs to breathe through the urgent, nearly fearful fascination that keeps his focus unerringly glued to his wrist.]
It was disgusting, wasn’t it? It had to be sick, filling your mouth with the blood of a living creature. It was supposed to be wrong on a level so intrinsic that even Liem, who was born a creature that naturally fed that way, spoke about it in terms of restraint and shame. Konoha expects it to be that.
And then it isn’t.
When he’d described it like a lust… She had thought he simply used that word because he knew how her seasonal heats affected her. She’d thought he’d been comparing the urge to drink blood to those physical and mental needs— powerful and heavy, but still something that could be resisted if you really tried.
But that’s not it at all.
Liem doesn’t taste good, not really. His blood contains something stale in taste she will later only be able to assume is because of his sire… but the manna… is so, so delicious. Though she’d gagged when the flavor first filled her mouth, it was more about her attempt to mentally reject the act than the physical, and now- Now there’s no way the Wechuge part of her will let her risk wasting this precious meal.
He doesn’t even resist. No, more than that, he even turns his wrist and the veins there for her taking, his fingers stroking comforting lines along her knuckles where she clutched as his hand like a lifeline. Without the part she’d actually feared the most, the horror she felt at the idea that she might do to him as his cursed body had done to hers, savagely ripping into his throat and scoring his body with her claws in an out-of-control, bestial rage… Those capabilities and desires are suppressed by the Gembindings hanging on her wrist. And in their absence…
Konoha’s shoulders slowly stop shaking with sobs, her tears growing cold on her wet cheeks. Her hand gradually stops crushing his, slackening as her body gets what it wanted so very badly. Her throat bobs heavy as she swallows her first mouthful, then the next, taking his blood straight into her body, warm (but not quite hot enough) and rich in manna that almost felt like it tasted familiar…
And the next sound that escapes her, as she digs her fangs just a little bit deeper into that freely offered flesh, the Wechuge part of her delighting in the sensation of his pulse spilling spurt after spurt of salty and slightly rot-sweet blood onto her tongue… is more akin to a wanting moan.]
[As Konoha's sobs slowly begin to subside, as she stops shaking with desperation and horror, the tautness in Liem's body stops hinging on his worry for her and begins to be caught up instead by a pure, full-body fascination. A small, pained noise escapes him as her teeth dig more deeply into his arm, and a slight shudder ripples through him at the feel of her drinking down his blood. But he doesn't pull away, and as Konoha moans against the skin of his wrist, his eyelids flutter with dizzying excitement.
He swallows, digging a fang into his lip and gently worrying the flesh there while Konoha suckles at his wrist. The feeling isn't quite pleasure and isn't quite arousal, but it's intimate and thrilling and impossible to ignore for even a single second. He couldn't be more keenly aware of her lips on his skin even if she was kissing him instead of biting him. Liem finds himself subsiding slowly against her, attracted by her near-feverish heat even as she slowly drinks the life from his veins. He sighs as he leans his forehead into the crook of her neck.]
[If she doesn't break the rules... If she doesn't break the rules then it will be alright. That's what rules are for. Maybe- Maybe she will drink enough and the Wechuge will be full and she will pull her fangs from his wrist and he will forgive her, he will, and she'll help him bandage the wound she's left and they could pretend it never happened-
His blood doesn't even taste all that bad anymore, like a bitter drink that seems awful in sips but is strangely palatable in gulps. Her eyes are mostly closed, fluttering against warm cheeks with remnants of tears still glistening in her lashes as she sucks as gently as she can on the flesh he's offered her. Not too much, of course... But she wouldn't definitely, because- Because that was why she'd given in instead of holding it, so that she could do it while there was still sense in her head, so she could hopefully take gently of something freely offered instead or rip it forcefully from an unwilling body. She wouldn't.
Slowly, her fangs slip free of his wrist, her tongue eager and quick to drink up the sickly dark blood that wells to the surface, unwilling to waste a single drop.
And then... she breaks a rule. No, not breaks, surely, just... bends. The clawed hand laced with his disentangles to awkwardly pull upward and drag him with, somewhere to near his waist, where she might slip her fingers around his smaller body and hold him tighter to her, in an embrace that is warm and comforting and familiar but twisted and not. Don't hold them close, it was surely just... a guideline.
Her tongue is near black with his blood, it's smeared across her lips now when she presses them in a soft kiss to his chill skin, her pupils mere pinpricks in a blown-out, glowing iris. She was in control. She had to be. She would be.
So why does she sink her teeth back in just a bit further higher on his wrist with a wet, aching sound of hungry want?]
[As Konoha eases into a willing, wanting concession to the relief that he's giving her, Liem becomes increasingly aware of her body stooped over him—of the heat of her skin, the caress of her tongue against his wrist, the familiar smell of her unbound hair. He listens to the thumping of her heart in her chest, still familiar even in this form with its single chest and single pulse. Even in this warped shape, it's still Konoha.
It's still she who pulls back to lap at the blood welling from the wound on his arm. It's her whom he savaged so terribly half a year ago, and who refused to let her fear of that night follow her into their relationship. It's Konoha, so he doesn't object when her clawed hand pulls free of his own and gathers him closer against her. If there is anyone in this world whom he would trust with his life, it would be her. He shifts against her with a gasp as she presses a kiss further up his wrist.
When she sinks her teeth into him a second time, the noise that escapes Liem's throat is just as wanting as hers. But he stills the titillated shudder that wants to run through him, and pulls back from his nuzzle against her neck.]
Konoha. [His tone is firmer than before.] That's enough.
[Konoha will never fully understand what it is to be Liem, to be a dhampir born of a dead sire and a dying mother whose body naturally craved the crimson lifeblood of living being. But now, with the Wechuge possession warping her flesh and infiltrating her mind... She might have gained just a little more insight.
His pulse is heavy and constant in her mouth and in her ears, slow and trusting until he realizes something may be wrong, accelerating gradually as she takes and takes, his blood filling her mouth and coating her tongue and lining her throat as she takes him into her. His breath is soft and rousing against her neck. His body is solid and warm (well, cool) against hers. And as she drinks and drinks... she starts to feel as if she knows the taste.
It's her she detects first, hints of earthy warmth that makes up the manna she's enjoying far more than the flavor of his half-foul blood. Her mixed with him, the manna lovingly given rather than taken, soothing enough that it makes her shoulders drop and her clawed hands rub just slightly up and down his back as if to soothe. There is a manna there mixed with a warm sensation she equates with glowing that can only be Matt, something crackling with shadow but ultimately bright that feels like Nikolai, something sweet and sour that can only be Jester, something soft and curious she feels she might know but can't quite put her finger on, something more bitter but interesting... All the people in his life who have left their Synchronic imprints on his manna.
Liem almost sounds like he likes it... Sharing it with her. The gasp, the sweet wanting sound, they all drive her to drink deeper, to take more, to fill her belly guiltlessly with her own soft, wet moan, fangs spasming just a bit deeper into his flesh and veins, caught in the feedback loop of life that connects them. Heart, breath, blood, manna... She barely hears him when he tells her she's taken enough, even though she feels the absence of his cheek nuzzling into her neck, feels him shift. She just wanted a little more, one more mouthful...]
[But when he shifts, the mismatched jewelry around her neck shifts too. Worn leather and folded bark, carefully polished linden seeds with just one burnt, a fae-blessed flower pressed in glass, and now-
Konoha's hand slowly leaves his back to scrabble up her chest and find the source of the burning sensation between her breasts, the warmth that requires her immediate notice, something, something was there. She finds the key and curls it in bony fingers, remembers that he had given it to her not moments ago, trusting her even like this...
And finally, her fangs release his wrist with a last gurgle of dark blood, swallowing her sick feast laced with delicious manna as her gaze slowly begins to lose its somewhat hypnotized, glazed over look. She squeezes her fingers tighter until the bit of the key bites into her palm and reminds her... Swallow. Try to speak, but it's just a wet sound. Swallow again, until-]
Liem...
[Swallow once more, and try to keep the gag down. It she threw it up... If she reject it she'd just be hungry again, what if she took more of it-]
[The longer Konoha goes without responding to his warning, the more Liem considers pushing her away by force, and the more he wonders if he's even capable of such. Would she even notice if he tried to pull away now? If he was able to manage it, would she be startled back to sense or would she just pursue him again? Would struggling make it more difficult to resist her new predatory instincts? He has enough familiarity with the curse to be unable to say with confidence which it would be.
But that's not why he remains calmly in her embrace. He peels himself away until he's no longer tucked so firmly against her, but he makes no move to pull further than that. Because he still has complete confidence that she won't drain him, that she'll stop herself before he's in danger of losing consciousness. He placed his faith in her the moment he cuffed himself to her, and he still believes in that decision.
So he says again, like he's calling her back from wandering out of sight,]
Konoha. Konoha.
[And when she does release her fangs from his arm with another heady stab of pain, he smiles reassuringly at her. Carefully, he strokes the fingers of his injured arm along her hair.]
I'm fine. Just a little— [He pauses, breathless.] A little lightheaded. Do you feel better?
[This time, when tears spring to Konoha's eyes... they are of relief. Though there is a small glistening in the corners, a hitch of her breath that could become a sob, and a tremble in her bloody lip... Konoha manages not to lose control again. Either sort of control. The glow in her eyes dies away as her body registers that she's full enough, that her belly is content with its blood and manna meal. She is afraid to release the key-shaped pendant that served this time as her anchor to sanity, but as he strokes so gently through her hair, even with everything she'd done...]
Liem...
[Her clawed, bony fingers uncurl from the bite of the key to shakily reach for the hand that had held hers again, the chain of the Gembindings rattling too loud in her ears. She hates it, the answer to that question. Because it was... a shameful, twisted up nod to cover the fact that she couldn't bear yet to say it aloud. She did feel better now, the insistent, sharp edge of her cravings blunted by the indulgence... and as long as she didn't remind herself that it was blood sloshing around in her stomach....]
Let's... You should sit down...
[He looked even paler than usual. With something to do, to focus on and demand of herself that she see it through for his sake, Konoha reaches for the towel he'd left by her sink that had been bloodied with chicken blood wiped from her chin. Now, she has Liem's to wipe from her face, quick and desperate, before she just... grabs a clean one, to press firmly over the piercing wounds she'd left in his wrist and forearm.]
Here...
[More than escorting she's more like half-carrying him out of the kitchen clasped to her breast, clumsily grabbing supplies as she goes. She leads him to the bed of hay, reeds, and mismatched cushions, urging him down into the thick straw and soft pillows so that if he had to faint.... It wouldn't be far at all to fall. And beside him grows a pile of bottled tea, snacks, another towel, the first aid kit... and a narrow wooden box tied shut with silk cord.
But once she's there... just staring at him, their wrists bound tight... Konoha falters over trying to make her scary body move, pacing almost like an unsure dog on a short leash back and forth until she finally figures out how to fold her two digitigrade limbs under her and get down, looming above him and unable to resist trying to get closer, he still smelled like food-]
Does it hurt... ?
[Her claws struggle with opening the first aid kit.]
[Liem bites back a hiss when Konoha presses the clean towel against his injured arm, which throbs more insistently with pain as she puts pressure on it. There's no easy cure for the ache now that his wrist is shackled alongside hers, so he just firms the set of his jaw and lets the feeling wash over him. It seems to sting more now that she isn't actively drinking from him anymore.]
Thank you…
[He keeps the cloth pressed against his arm as best he can with his hand shackled, and subsides gratefully against Konoha as she guides them both through the barn to her bed. Darkness breathes at the edges of his vision as they make their way there, making him glad for her warm, solid shape supporting him until he sinks down onto the hay.
The sight of her fumbling with the first aid kit almost prompts him to reach for it to open it for her, but he doesn't get further than a twitch of his fingers. He needs to keep putting pressure on his arm, and besides which, it occurs to him that Konoha will probably feel better if she can manage it herself. Instead of reaching to help her, he says reassuringly,]
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Her lip quivers, and her fingers spasm anxiously when he takes her hand despite the stains and the claws and the strange, elongated and bony shape that she didn’t even properly recognize as her own. If she just dug her claws in… if she lost herself and dug her claws in, would it at least not be poisonous? She doesn’t want to test it…]
But now, you…
[Did that mean he couldn’t use those healing spells of his? Could he not change his shape anymore? She had to honor the risk he was taking and keep swallowing down the saliva rising her her mouth every time she took a whiff of how manna-rich he seemed.
She can’t help but look down at herself when he offers her assistance, down at what, admittedly, wasn’t helping her feel more like a person than a beast- her chin, chest, and hands still stained with fowl blood. There was… the river, or the little shower stall behind the barn, wet cloths from the kitchen… and it might be hard to change handcuffed like this, but…]
Please…
[The cuff around her slightly raw wrist brushes against her skin and pulls her eyes back to where they were linked, the soft glow of the charged cuff. She… she should buy a pair…]
I wish… I’d had these, when Liem was like this…
[If she had… Could he have been spared some of the pain of that cursed week? Would it have made it easier for him to keep control? Or with the curse… would it have even helped at all… ?]
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But that doesn't change his resolution to remain by her side. To some extent, he feels like he has to—not just because of what he did to her, but for the sake of every single person he harmed during those terrible nights months ago, and every single person she might pose a danger to if left to her own devices. He was never able to tally all the hurts he'd done during his vaguely recalled curse, and that unknown number still weighs on him. He doesn't want such a weight to lie on her conscience as well.]
Neither of us could have known that you would need such a thing.
[She would need to carry them with her all the time to account for a situation like that, where she hadn't been expecting to see him. She can't possibly blame herself for how things ended up happening.]
Besides… they were only a partial solution in any case. I used my own pair during subsequent nights, but it never helped completely.
[He's loath to say that eventually the blood-thirst had overwhelmed him even with them on, and he had ventured into the city to hunt regardless. That's not a comforting thing to hear right now.]
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She's found something far more delicious seeming.
But walking is... disconcerting, and though she does her best to move towards the barn with him... it is slow going. She's learned how to operate two legs, but now she has two that don't move like human ones, she's some sick hybrid between forms, hunched down harshly both to match his height and also to try and minimize her presence. In the end, she has to manage the walk on three legs, using her oddly elongated arm as an occasional foreleg, and occasional tissue, wiping every few steps at the tears drying on her cheeks.]
Still...
[Maybe she'll buy a pair next she can anyway. And maybe it's scary, to hear him say that... it hadn't helped him completely. That first time she'd gone feral Chiron had still been at her side, and he had been physically capable of taking her down, but now... She wipes more tears off her face in between her awkward, shuffling steps, hoping that she feels herself weakening, hoping that strange sensation in her body is the poison shriveling, strength withering... because the bloodlust hasn't abated at all, gnawing at the back of her mind.
Making her whisper, as they reach the barn,]
... do you feel like this all the time?
[Hungry for something it wasn't right to take.]
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Not entirely.
[He pushes the barn door open a little wider so they can enter together, and scans the interior to see if anything else is obviously amiss. He's been here often enough that he knows already where Konoha's cloths and cleaning materials are kept, where her first aid kit lives in ordinary circumstances. But he wouldn't necessarily call these circumstances ordinary.]
When I was cursed, I felt wrung-out, empty, like I was withering to nothing and needed whatever I could get to sustain me. It was all-consuming. I couldn't think about anything else.
[He doesn't know if that's exactly how Konoha feels now. She seems more herself than he'd been for most of his curse, so maybe the Nuckelavee's absence has lessened the hunger that comes with his form.]
That's not normally how I feel. Normally my want for blood is more of a… lust. It's a very physical experience, and it can be overwhelming at times, but I don't feel like I'll waste away if I deny it.
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But he describes it as being unable to think about anything else, and she... She can think about other things. Can't she? Even as she follows Liem into the barn and finds that she's come up right behind him, close enough to inhale deep of his smell and how delicious it seems now, in a far more hunger-driven way than how she usually appreciated his scent...]
Oh, that's good...
[Com... paratively. She knew well about resisting lust, didn't she? She'd done it every time she went into season for years, and she'd survived, even if she'd been left feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. If hunger for blood could be like that...
She swallows, curling her free clawed hand around the key-shaped pendant once more to remind herself. Good, she could be good... She would be good... (Even if a voice in the back of her head wondered if it would be bad to indulge, just... just a little. After all, she wouldn't blame Liem if he gave in to the urge and asked, it was part of his nature, and if it was part of her nature, now-)]
Ouch-
[Thankfully, she hits her large rack of antlers on the doorframe, which pulls her abruptly out of those darker thoughts into a wince and hiss, accidentally jerking on his twist where they were bound together as she instinctively tries to reach for her head and cradle the bloody points where the antlers erupted from her skull.
At least... nothing in her home seems amiss beyond some traces of blood here and there in a line from her bed to the kitchen from where she'd paced back and forth trying to keep control of herself.]
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Sorry about that, [he murmurs. He should have thought to caution her at the door, considering how much she already had on her mind.]
Let's take care of this, shall we?
[He lets his hand fall with one last stroke of her hair, then begins to lead her more cautiously across the barn, collecting some washcloths and heading over to the sink. Unfortunately, he doesn't think undressing for a proper shower will really be possible with them cuffed together like this, but even the cursory cleansing they can manage in her kitchen will still be an improvement. Liem turns the water on warm, then he starts with her hands, lifting the one he's cuffed and gently laving it under the flow of water. He's careful of her wrist, wary of the angry flesh there, but gently cleans as much of the blood and dirt from her skin as he can.]
I know it's hard to be like this. [He talks quietly as he moves his hands over hers.] To have cravings that seem… debased. But it's not your fault, Konoha.
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Konoha bites down another little pained sound and nuzzles into the touch on her bloodied brow, nodding a bit wretchedly. She wanted to be clean. To not smell her own blood, the chicken’s blood, in the hopes that perhaps without that his blood wouldn’t seem so appetizing. (Even though a part of her knows… it will still be just as manna-rich after she’s clean, it will still seem so—)
She follows him in her awkward shuffle to the sink, such a different gait than the swift, terrifying way of moving she’d displayed more under the influence of the Wechuge before. Obediently, she presents her hands for the washing, long spine hunching into a curl beside him, cloven hooves and odd cervid but two? legs akimbo on the dirt and rug flooring.
It feels good… his manna. Surely it’s working. That and the gem cuffs, they’re definitely working and they’re definitely going to make it easier not to want to dig her teeth into the side of his neck, that still looks so delicious even with all the fur she would get in her mouth-]
… how do you do it?
[Her voice creeps out in a shameful whisper, wanting and hoping that his experiences at abstinence will somehow be enlightening for her even with the inevitable differences between a natural dhampir and an emerald transformation.
Or maybe… maybe he didn’t really hold back from doing it, and just like so many other times he friends have kept secrets from her, it would turn out to be something he just hadn’t told her because he thought it would upset her, that it might scare her. She’s heard that one plenty.
And something twists, deep in her gut, hungry and wanting, as she surrenders her hands to his, pupils blown out as she watches him gently tend to her. Liem was kind… and he was good, and loyal, and he loved her enough, surely, to let her—
The roil in her gut turns to disgust.]
cw: self-harm
Ah, well…
[The question discomfits him a little, making him pause in the act of wetting a washcloth to tend to her face. The subject of his thirst, and his relationship with it, isn’t something he often speaks of, even with the people who are familiar with his nature. It’s not a topic that he’s used to thinking of without shame.
But after the small hesitation, he lifts the damp cloth to begin cleaning her face, starting first with her forehead and working his way gently down.]
In some ways, my world made it very easy for me to avoid drinking blood. I was not prepared to force myself upon the unwilling, and few would admit to wanting to submit to such a thing.
[This did not make it simple to suppress the desire to sink his teeth into something, to lap the blood from whatever flesh he might get his hands on—that of backyard fowl, of scurrying vermin, sometimes, in moments of desperation, even his own wrist. There was little satisfaction to be gained from such activities, but there were times that he simply couldn’t force himself to stop.
But it seems so personal to speak of such things. Even with the direct relevance it has on Konoha’s own situation, Liem can force himself only grudgingly to talk about it at all.]
There were of course times I did drink… from animals… or from a willing person. But… [He presses his lips together, pausing to fold the washcloth so its cleaner side is exposed. His voice is quiet.] It was never a frequent occurrence. To indulge with any regularity would be akin to dependence on liquor, or drugs, and such vices are meant to be below Abadar’s priesthood. They’re seen as destructive, to the self and to the community.
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Oh...
[She listens, she swears she's listening, because... If anyone knew about how not to drink blood it would surely be Liem? But if she were hoping for some innovative solution, some trick she hadn't been able to think of herself... she's disappointed. She has no right to be, but she is. It seemed the only way he kept himself drinking occasionally and not frequently was strength of will... the same sort applied to keep oneself off drink or vice... and before the Wechuge, Konoha had considered herself strong enough to avoid similar things. Now...]
Liem is so strong...
[Finally, her voice creaks out in a whisper, the hand bound to him yearning to tangle with his fingers but afraid to, for fear that even as cold as he was in comparison to her that it would be warm enough to stir something inside of her, that the feel of his pulse would make her ravenous. She has to swallow again, she's salivating too much at the idea--]
I'm afraid-
[Another swallow, to admit it, to try and put it into words. She wanted not to do it at all, she was afraid to find something as taboo as drinking blood to be delicious, but also-]
Even if... someone volunteered for that...
[Which is also... difficult for her to imagine, until she remembers that she had offered her blood to Chiron with no hesitation at all when he'd admitted that he needed mana to survive and it could be found there. Until she remembers that night in the forest when the Wechuge in Liem's shape had been savaging her neck and she'd thought... if he'd only asked, she would have given it to him. But that was... Chiron and Liem seemed strong, and used to those means and urges, but her- ?]
What if I couldn't stop... ?
[The chicken certainly hadn't survived her, had it?]
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It's always possible something like that will happen.
[He admits it quietly, returning his hands to the sink so he can rinse the cloth one more time. Whenever blood drinking comes up, there's always the risk of cutting too deeply, of biting in the wrong place. Sometimes wounds bleed more freely than anticipated, or someone misjudges their limits, and indulgence turns to genuine injury. It can be a dangerous activity.]
It can be difficult to think about other things while drinking. And learning how much is safe takes practice. It's better to try hunting animals first.
[At least a killed rabbit or deer can be skinned and cooked later on. Control is less of an issue. As he considers the issue further, he squeezes out the washcloth and offers it to Konoha in a silent question.]
But if you're going to try, it's vital to make sure the other person has the ability to end things. You can't be on top of them, or hold them close while you're drinking, even if you feel in control.
[Personally, Liem finds his lap to be a very nice place for the person he's drinking from to be, but that might not be the kind of vibe that Konoha wants in this situation.]
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I don't want an animal...
[She doesn't actually even realize she said it, quiet and reluctant, because what she wants more than anything... is what he tells her that she shouldn't. All the Wechuge body wants to do is take control from someone else, to hold them close enough to hear their hearts beating frantic and scared, to crawl on top of them and pin them down and dig her teeth in-
She slips up, and the fang digging into her lip does break skin. Even though it was her own blood, not the heat of something more delicious... it has enough manna in it to make her pupils dilate to more excited pricks of dark in the sickened color of her iris, makes a shudder run through her body even weakened as it was by the Gem bindings...
Konoha snatches the washcloth Liem offers her too quickly, too roughly, clutching it tight in her clawed hand and beginning to scrub, hard, at the blood staining her chest. If she just rubbed it off, if she just got rid of it... If she just kept sucking on her split lip, a rumbling, sick sound building in to the back of her throat...]
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[Liem watches her scrub compulsively at the stains on her chest, her motions rough with a familiar desperation. He knows how it is to be overcome with the need to do something, anything to get your mind off of your desires. He knows about the urge to replace hunger and need with sex, with pain, with exhaustion, with whatever will serve to distract body and mind from the shameful obsession with blood.
But those distractions can be dangerous too—to the self, and sometimes even to others as well, in the end. Liem draws nearer, cupping his hand against her cheek and encouraging her to look at him. The hand cuffed to hers slides gently into her grasp.]
Slow breaths. Talk to me.
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So she swallows, trying to clear the saliva from her mouth to answer him, but this time it goes down with hints of her own blood, her own manna, and just that-]
Liem, I'm sorry, I'm-
[Her voice cracks again, trying to look at his face but she can't stop going back to his wrist, so- so close to her face and she can sense the blood pumping sluggish and dark just beneath the thin skin there, so foul and dark but so rich with the manna part of what she desired...]
I'm going to do it, I know I'm going to try and do it-
[Maybe he could fight her off. She was much larger, more muscular, but she was cuffed... Except so was he, so what if he couldn't, he had- did he have a blade on him? Did she want him to use such a thing on her? No, of course not, that was even more terrifying, but-]
Tell me... Tell me you won't forgive me...
[It's the only thing she can think of that might prevent her from sinking her teeth into his wrist.]
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You know I will, Konoha. [He says it softly, reasonably.] Even if I said that I wouldn't forgive you, you would know it wasn't true.
[He can't condemn her for giving in to the same urge that had resulted in him attacking her all those months ago during autumn. Maybe it's tempting to do so, because some part of him still does condemn himself for that failure—but Konoha forgave him so readily, was so willing to place her trust in him even after he nearly killed her. He can't fail to grant her that same forgiveness, when he knows that harming him is the very last thing she would willingly do.
And she must know that, so what point would there be in pretending otherwise? He won't add to her shame and guilt by heaping blame upon her for something beyond her control. Instead, he'd much rather try to make the experience as painless as possible for both of them. It doesn't need to be a repeat of the harrowing experience Konoha had met in the woods, which had left a bite on her neck and a hoof-shaped bruise on his ribs.]
It's all right.
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Even when she begged him to say it, she'd known it would be a lie. She'd wanted to believe that... that she could perhaps then believe that lie, just enough to reign in the foreign urges that were so close to overtaking her senses, but. That had been foolish, hadn't it? He had just wiped her face clean and yet hot tears stain her cheeks again so soon.
Because she is afraid. It had been easy to forgive Liem for attacking her as a Wechuge because... he hadn't been himself at all, seized completely by the curse. But she- She was herself, still, enough to blame herself and yet despite that... If she were being kinder, she might remember that she had no defense at all against an urge like this, new and hungry and all-consuming despite how strong-willed she normally considered herself to be. But its hard to be kind when what she keeps fantasizing about is everything he'd just told her was what you shouldn't do when drinking blood.]
I'm sorry, Liem...
[If she could at least... if she could at least follow the "rules". Don't be on top of them, don't hold them close while you're drinking, don't bite too deeply, don't bite in the wrong place, don't misjudge their limits... She repeats it over and over in her head. He holds her clawed hand so gently, but her grip grows tighter and tighter, quaking enough that it rattles the Gembinding cuff on her rope-raw wrist.
Liem would forgive her. She'd forgiven him. But just because she'd forgiven him didn't mean the experience itself hadn't been horrifying to her, that it didn't still occasionally appear in her nightmares, in scenes where his eyes were glowing in the bloody dark and his teeth were savaging her neck. She didn't want to be in his nightmares, so instead of continuing to try and hold it back, risking losing control-
A strange, mournful keen builds in the back of her throat as she nuzzles into his hand on her cheek, her lips curling back to reveal teeth grown even sharper than before, her jaw creaking open... and her fangs sink as gently as she can manage into his wrist, hesitating just a moment before she can't resist any longer and she pierces skin, her moan of relief muffled in a wet gag as his dark blood hits her tongue and begins to fill her mouth.]
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And he doesn't cry out when she sinks her teeth into his flesh, but only gasps at the sharp sting, his fingers twitching involuntarily against her skin. His eyes are locked, transfixed, onto her as she latches unwillingly onto his arm. He's never been bitten like this before, without the frenzy of battle to dull the pain and distract from the sensation of his blood spilling reluctantly from the wound. His heart jerks against his ribs, but he has to force his still lungs to breathe through the urgent, nearly fearful fascination that keeps his focus unerringly glued to his wrist.]
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It was disgusting, wasn’t it? It had to be sick, filling your mouth with the blood of a living creature. It was supposed to be wrong on a level so intrinsic that even Liem, who was born a creature that naturally fed that way, spoke about it in terms of restraint and shame. Konoha expects it to be that.
And then it isn’t.
When he’d described it like a lust… She had thought he simply used that word because he knew how her seasonal heats affected her. She’d thought he’d been comparing the urge to drink blood to those physical and mental needs— powerful and heavy, but still something that could be resisted if you really tried.
But that’s not it at all.
Liem doesn’t taste good, not really. His blood contains something stale in taste she will later only be able to assume is because of his sire… but the manna… is so, so delicious. Though she’d gagged when the flavor first filled her mouth, it was more about her attempt to mentally reject the act than the physical, and now- Now there’s no way the Wechuge part of her will let her risk wasting this precious meal.
He doesn’t even resist. No, more than that, he even turns his wrist and the veins there for her taking, his fingers stroking comforting lines along her knuckles where she clutched as his hand like a lifeline. Without the part she’d actually feared the most, the horror she felt at the idea that she might do to him as his cursed body had done to hers, savagely ripping into his throat and scoring his body with her claws in an out-of-control, bestial rage… Those capabilities and desires are suppressed by the Gembindings hanging on her wrist. And in their absence…
Konoha’s shoulders slowly stop shaking with sobs, her tears growing cold on her wet cheeks. Her hand gradually stops crushing his, slackening as her body gets what it wanted so very badly. Her throat bobs heavy as she swallows her first mouthful, then the next, taking his blood straight into her body, warm (but not quite hot enough) and rich in manna that almost felt like it tasted familiar…
And the next sound that escapes her, as she digs her fangs just a little bit deeper into that freely offered flesh, the Wechuge part of her delighting in the sensation of his pulse spilling spurt after spurt of salty and slightly rot-sweet blood onto her tongue… is more akin to a wanting moan.]
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He swallows, digging a fang into his lip and gently worrying the flesh there while Konoha suckles at his wrist. The feeling isn't quite pleasure and isn't quite arousal, but it's intimate and thrilling and impossible to ignore for even a single second. He couldn't be more keenly aware of her lips on his skin even if she was kissing him instead of biting him. Liem finds himself subsiding slowly against her, attracted by her near-feverish heat even as she slowly drinks the life from his veins. He sighs as he leans his forehead into the crook of her neck.]
Konoha… Not too much…
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His blood doesn't even taste all that bad anymore, like a bitter drink that seems awful in sips but is strangely palatable in gulps. Her eyes are mostly closed, fluttering against warm cheeks with remnants of tears still glistening in her lashes as she sucks as gently as she can on the flesh he's offered her. Not too much, of course... But she wouldn't definitely, because- Because that was why she'd given in instead of holding it, so that she could do it while there was still sense in her head, so she could hopefully take gently of something freely offered instead or rip it forcefully from an unwilling body. She wouldn't.
Slowly, her fangs slip free of his wrist, her tongue eager and quick to drink up the sickly dark blood that wells to the surface, unwilling to waste a single drop.
And then... she breaks a rule. No, not breaks, surely, just... bends. The clawed hand laced with his disentangles to awkwardly pull upward and drag him with, somewhere to near his waist, where she might slip her fingers around his smaller body and hold him tighter to her, in an embrace that is warm and comforting and familiar but twisted and not. Don't hold them close, it was surely just... a guideline.
Her tongue is near black with his blood, it's smeared across her lips now when she presses them in a soft kiss to his chill skin, her pupils mere pinpricks in a blown-out, glowing iris. She was in control. She had to be. She would be.
So why does she sink her teeth back in just a bit further higher on his wrist with a wet, aching sound of hungry want?]
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It's still she who pulls back to lap at the blood welling from the wound on his arm. It's her whom he savaged so terribly half a year ago, and who refused to let her fear of that night follow her into their relationship. It's Konoha, so he doesn't object when her clawed hand pulls free of his own and gathers him closer against her. If there is anyone in this world whom he would trust with his life, it would be her. He shifts against her with a gasp as she presses a kiss further up his wrist.
When she sinks her teeth into him a second time, the noise that escapes Liem's throat is just as wanting as hers. But he stills the titillated shudder that wants to run through him, and pulls back from his nuzzle against her neck.]
Konoha. [His tone is firmer than before.] That's enough.
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His pulse is heavy and constant in her mouth and in her ears, slow and trusting until he realizes something may be wrong, accelerating gradually as she takes and takes, his blood filling her mouth and coating her tongue and lining her throat as she takes him into her. His breath is soft and rousing against her neck. His body is solid and warm (well, cool) against hers. And as she drinks and drinks... she starts to feel as if she knows the taste.
It's her she detects first, hints of earthy warmth that makes up the manna she's enjoying far more than the flavor of his half-foul blood. Her mixed with him, the manna lovingly given rather than taken, soothing enough that it makes her shoulders drop and her clawed hands rub just slightly up and down his back as if to soothe. There is a manna there mixed with a warm sensation she equates with glowing that can only be Matt, something crackling with shadow but ultimately bright that feels like Nikolai, something sweet and sour that can only be Jester, something soft and curious she feels she might know but can't quite put her finger on, something more bitter but interesting... All the people in his life who have left their Synchronic imprints on his manna.
Liem almost sounds like he likes it... Sharing it with her. The gasp, the sweet wanting sound, they all drive her to drink deeper, to take more, to fill her belly guiltlessly with her own soft, wet moan, fangs spasming just a bit deeper into his flesh and veins, caught in the feedback loop of life that connects them. Heart, breath, blood, manna... She barely hears him when he tells her she's taken enough, even though she feels the absence of his cheek nuzzling into her neck, feels him shift. She just wanted a little more, one more mouthful...]
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Konoha's hand slowly leaves his back to scrabble up her chest and find the source of the burning sensation between her breasts, the warmth that requires her immediate notice, something, something was there. She finds the key and curls it in bony fingers, remembers that he had given it to her not moments ago, trusting her even like this...
And finally, her fangs release his wrist with a last gurgle of dark blood, swallowing her sick feast laced with delicious manna as her gaze slowly begins to lose its somewhat hypnotized, glazed over look. She squeezes her fingers tighter until the bit of the key bites into her palm and reminds her... Swallow. Try to speak, but it's just a wet sound. Swallow again, until-]
Liem...
[Swallow once more, and try to keep the gag down. It she threw it up... If she reject it she'd just be hungry again, what if she took more of it-]
Liem, I'm sorry... Are you okay... ?
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But that's not why he remains calmly in her embrace. He peels himself away until he's no longer tucked so firmly against her, but he makes no move to pull further than that. Because he still has complete confidence that she won't drain him, that she'll stop herself before he's in danger of losing consciousness. He placed his faith in her the moment he cuffed himself to her, and he still believes in that decision.
So he says again, like he's calling her back from wandering out of sight,]
Konoha. Konoha.
[And when she does release her fangs from his arm with another heady stab of pain, he smiles reassuringly at her. Carefully, he strokes the fingers of his injured arm along her hair.]
I'm fine. Just a little— [He pauses, breathless.] A little lightheaded. Do you feel better?
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Liem...
[Her clawed, bony fingers uncurl from the bite of the key to shakily reach for the hand that had held hers again, the chain of the Gembindings rattling too loud in her ears. She hates it, the answer to that question. Because it was... a shameful, twisted up nod to cover the fact that she couldn't bear yet to say it aloud. She did feel better now, the insistent, sharp edge of her cravings blunted by the indulgence... and as long as she didn't remind herself that it was blood sloshing around in her stomach....]
Let's... You should sit down...
[He looked even paler than usual. With something to do, to focus on and demand of herself that she see it through for his sake, Konoha reaches for the towel he'd left by her sink that had been bloodied with chicken blood wiped from her chin. Now, she has Liem's to wipe from her face, quick and desperate, before she just... grabs a clean one, to press firmly over the piercing wounds she'd left in his wrist and forearm.]
Here...
[More than escorting she's more like half-carrying him out of the kitchen clasped to her breast, clumsily grabbing supplies as she goes. She leads him to the bed of hay, reeds, and mismatched cushions, urging him down into the thick straw and soft pillows so that if he had to faint.... It wouldn't be far at all to fall. And beside him grows a pile of bottled tea, snacks, another towel, the first aid kit... and a narrow wooden box tied shut with silk cord.
But once she's there... just staring at him, their wrists bound tight... Konoha falters over trying to make her scary body move, pacing almost like an unsure dog on a short leash back and forth until she finally figures out how to fold her two digitigrade limbs under her and get down, looming above him and unable to resist trying to get closer, he still smelled like food-]
Does it hurt... ?
[Her claws struggle with opening the first aid kit.]
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Thank you…
[He keeps the cloth pressed against his arm as best he can with his hand shackled, and subsides gratefully against Konoha as she guides them both through the barn to her bed. Darkness breathes at the edges of his vision as they make their way there, making him glad for her warm, solid shape supporting him until he sinks down onto the hay.
The sight of her fumbling with the first aid kit almost prompts him to reach for it to open it for her, but he doesn't get further than a twitch of his fingers. He needs to keep putting pressure on his arm, and besides which, it occurs to him that Konoha will probably feel better if she can manage it herself. Instead of reaching to help her, he says reassuringly,]
It's not too bad. They just sting some.
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