#vampire fyodor

Then you see him. He is a study in stillness, a shadow draped in black and deepest purple. Fyodor Dostoevsky. He doesn’t move, but you feel his attention like a physical weight, a velvet-wrapped chill that settles over your shoulders. His eyes, when they finally find yours in the gloom, are the color of old wine and older sins.

"You came." He states. His voice is not loud. It doesn’t need to be. It slips into the silence of the cathedral and fills it completely, a soft, melodic baritone that seems to resonate in your very bones. "How obedient."

You want to speak, to demand answers, but your throat is tight. He glides forward, not walking, but flowing across the stone floor. There is an unnatural grace to it, a predator’s economy of motion. You notice then how pale he is. Not sickly, but like alabaster, like marble kissed only by moonlight for centuries.

"Do not be afraid." He murmurs, now only an arm’s length away. A faint, cold scent reaches you: Frost, old parchment, and a metallic hint like a storm on the horizon. "Fear is so… mundane. What you feel, that tightening in your soul… that is recognition."

He lifts a hand... Long, slender fingers covered by a black glove tonight. He doesn’t touch you. He simply traces the shape of the air near your temple, and you feel a dizzying pull, a sense of your own thoughts, your memories, your deepest loneliness being gently skimmed.

"You see the world’s rot..." He continues, his gaze holding yours captive. "You taste it on the wind. You carry a beautiful, painful ability that isolates you. You are already half in the dark." A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "I am merely here to welcome you the rest of the way."

This is the seduction. Not with flowers or kisses, but with understanding. He sees the fractured parts of you, the parts you hide, and he doesn’t flinch. He admires them. He collects broken, powerful things.

"Why?" You finally whisper, the word scraping out.

"Chaos requires its instruments." He says, his head tilting. The column of his throat is pale and unblemished. You find yourself staring, wondering where the pulse would be, if he had one. "But also… eternity is terribly lonely. Even for one who seeks the salvation of annihilation. A companion who can withstand the gravity of such a goal… that is a rare find."

He closes the final distance. The cold radiating from him is not unpleasant... It’s a relief, like pressing a fevered forehead to a cool stone. His fingers finally make contact, tipping your chin up with a touch so light it could be imagined.

"I offer you no sunlight." He confesses, his breath a frosty caress against your skin. "No simple joys. I offer you truth. The profound, terrible truth of a world that must be unmade. And in the long, long night it will take to achieve it… my attention. My… sustenance."

The word hangs in the air. Your heart hammers against your ribs, a frantic, living drum. His eyes drop to the frantic beat in your throat, and for a moment, they seem to glow with a deep, amethyst light.

"It does not have to hurt." He promises, his voice dropping to a hypnotic murmur. “It can feel like… absolution. Let me show you.”

This is the choice. The warmth of a world that has always left you cold, or the chilling embrace of one who finds you perfectly, exquisitely made for the shadows. You don’t step back. His smile widens, just enough to show the faint, sharp points of his canines. It is not a threat. It is an invitation to a sacrament. When his lips meet the skin of your wrist, where your own pulse betrays you, it is not a bite of violence. It is a kiss. A slow, deliberate press of cold lips that makes you gasp.

Then, a pinpoint of piercing bliss, sharp and clean, followed by a wave of dizzying, intoxicating warmth that floods your veins, pulling from you and giving back something else entirely. Your knees buckle, but he is there, an arm of surprising strength around your waist, holding you upright as he drinks.

In your mind, unfurling like a black rose, are visions: Not of terror, but of a silent, still world. A world purged of the noisy, grating sin of ordinary life. A world where it is only the two of you, eternal, understanding everything and needing no one else.

He pulls away, a single, crimson drop staining his lower lip. He licks it away, his eyes heavy-lidded and full of a dark, possessive satisfaction. You feel weak, euphoric, and bound to him by a thread of shared essence.

"Moy milyy..." He whispers, my dear one, the endearment a secret in the dark. "Our long night begins now. And you will never be lonely again." He offers his arm. You take it. The stone cathedral, the moon, the distant city they all fade into a pleasant blur.

All that is real is the cold hand beneath yours, the profound quiet in your soul, and the thrilling, terrifying sense that you have finally come home.

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “…but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥︎～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

In the dark of the night, a tall man lurked in the shadows, his raven colored hair dangling in his face as the subtle wind gently pushed against it. His chilling gaze sent shivers down the spines of those who met it, instilling such a strong feeling of uneasiness that such unlucky souls made quick work of picking up their pace and fleeing. His fangs poked out of the corner of his lips, reflecting a shiny glare underneath the streetlights. His shadow stretched far in front of his body as he passed them and his footsteps created a small tapping sound as he made his way down the pavement. He was moving rather quickly to your home, hoping to arrive fast enough to avoid the rainstorms predicted by the earlier forecast. He could only move so rapidly though, as he hadn't fed in awhile and wasn't usually used to very much physical activity. One of those problems, however, would soon be fixed.

By the time he reached the gate to your yard, a soft rain had started to fall from the dark clouds above, blocking out any and all light from the stars and moon. All that was left to guide Fyodor through the darkness was the incandescent glow that shone through your window. His hair and hands were slightly damp, and as he tried to climb up to your window, his grip kept slipping. After a few attempts, he finally made it onto the roof, huffing and puffing as he took a breather. Once he felt that his heart was steadily beating again, he crawled over to the clear panes and knocked. His eyes scanned your room through the glass that was made blurry by the rain, droplets falling down the window in thin rivulets. Your body quickly came into view as you did a little jog over to open the window up and let him in.

"You didn't get caught in the rain, did you?" Was the first thing you asked him. He stared blankly at you with a damp face, hair, and outfit. "No." He replied sarcastically, slinging his leg over the sill and entering your room. You laughed a little bit, steadying him by holding his shoulders before turning to exit your room. "I'll grab you a towel." He hummed and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The knees of his pants were roughed up, a remaining indication of his struggle to get up onto your roof. When you returned with a towel for him, you noticed and commented on it. "It must have been difficult getting up there. There's always the front door, you know." You say, raising an eyebrow and draping the towel over his head, drying his hair up for him. To you, he seemed to have an odd affinity for climbing through windows and nearly fatiguing himself by doing such a thing, but he really just didn't want to encounter your roommate. What you didn't know was that the guy you lived with was his mortal enemy. Fyodor was simply petty enough to enter your home through the window rather than the door because he knew that the brunette man liked to hang in the living room with whichever woman he comes home with, if one at all, and that's where the door was.

"I can't do that." He'd tell you, his tongue tracing the point of his right fang. Your brows furrowed and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. "Why not? You literally wind yourself every time you climb up here." You say, drying his scalp underneath the top layer of his hair. "It's rude to ask a vampire that." He tells you, so seriously that you almost believe him. "And it's even ruder to comment on my physical abilities. I get up here just fine." You let out a skeptical hum and nod. "Okay, sure." You toss the towel at your laundry basket on the other side of the room and grin when you make it in. "Look at that, I'm a baller." You say, turning to him. "You should go pro, Myshka." He says, peeling the dampened coat off of his body and tossing it over the back of your desk chair. "Do you want some dry clothes? Your..." You gesture at his whole body. "Vampiric attire doesn't look the most comfortable for cuddling. And kissing. And etcetera." You offer, already making your way to your dresser before even hearing his answer.

"That would be nice, thank you." He says, already starting to remove his shirt. He took the clothes you had lended him and headed to the bathroom connected to your bedroom to change. When he emerged again, he looked much more comfortable and huggable. "Are they good?" You ask, looking him up and down and concluding that they fit him well enough. He nods and puts his wet clothes in the hamper with the previously discarded towel. "They fit me just fine, thank you." He says, approaching you and putting his hands on your waist. "Good, didn't want you to get my bed all damp with your wet butt." You tease, ghosting your fingertips over his spine with a grin. "Oh please, that bed has gotten wetter because of you on several occasions." He bluntly mutters, tracing your jawline and bringing your lips to his to give you a sweet and hungry kiss. You were still a bit stunned by his words, even after the two of you pulled apart. "Wowww, okay. I guess you're right, though. Tonight's probably gonna be one of those nights again, yeah?" You ask, twirling some of his long, black hair around your finger. "Hmm, maybe if you taste satisfactory enough." He says, brushing his thumb over the most recent puncture mark he had left in your neck to draw your blood.

"We both know I taste more than satisfactory." You respond. "I think it's just a matter of how hungry you are." You tilt your head to the side, awaiting the pinch of his bite. "Maybe." He responds in partial agreement, leaning down and finally sinking his fangs into your skin. After a moment of his sucking, the blood finally hit his tongue and he hummed, having missed the sweet feeling of his hunger being satisfied. It had been a week and a half since he last fed, and sure he could go for longer than that if he really needed to, but you just tasted so sweet- how could he not crave it? The crimson, wine-looking liquid that escaped his tongue trickled down your chest, but he scooped it up, making sure that his fingertip was facing the ceiling to keep the delicious substance in place for when he was ready to pull out of your neck and lick you clean. He usually hated messy food, but when it was your blood smeared on your chest and his hands, he thought of it almost as dessert.

Once he finally got his fix, he pulled away, licking his lips and teeth clean of your cherry colored fluids, wearing the dark color like a lip stain. He then sucked the excess blood off of his finger. "Mm, you taste magnificent, darling." He says, closing his eyes and catching his breath. He leaned in and kissed right below your ear, his bitten down fingernails touched your skin as he tightened his grip to pull you in further, making you furrow your brows at their rigid texture. "Are you sure? Maybe you should kiss me here so I can taste too.." you whisper, pressing your pointer against your lower lip. He smirks and sighs, leaning further into you, his lips hovering a solid inch away from yours. "I suppose, if you're so insistent on tasting yourself on my tongue."

He closed the gap and kissed you once more, his nose nudging your own as your lips moved together in a passionate pattern. His tongue ran acrossed your bottom lip, and you responded by opening your mouth to let him in. You could, infact, sense the metallic taste of yourself, quite easily, too. The taste of blood obviously wasn't one of your favorites, but Fyodor made it good. The only way your body could react to his lips and tongue on your own was by leading him over to your bed and continuing the kiss on his lap, your arms draped over his shoulders and your eyebrows knitted together desperately. Your hips moved against his ever so slightly, but it was enough to turn the both of you on. Fyodor grabbed you to hold you in place, pulling away from the kiss to speak. He was still hardly an inch away, and you could feel his breath against your skin.

"Stay still and be good, okay?" He muttered, his voice lower than usual. You gave a quiet 'mhm' and pushed his bangs out of his face. "We should take it slower. Wouldn't want to move to fast and get too excited. Your..less than appreciated roommate might hear and want to join..that freak." He mutters. You laugh at him under your breath. "You don't like him?" He shakes his head and chews on his lip. "He's a little bit promiscuous and shady for my liking. I do not." He affirms, his hands making their way to the small of your back. "So THAT'S why you won't go in through the front door and you prefer my window. You don't wanna see him! You're so petty, Fedya." You tease, poking his cheek gently. He swats your hand away and groans. "I never said that, but yes. Seeing that oaf is less than ideal, especially when I'm here to see you." You roll your eyes. "Dazai isn't even that bad. You must have caught him on a bad day whenever you formed this vendetta of sorts." Fyodor frowns and pinches you, giving you a rather exasperated look at the idea of his rival not being 'that bad.' "His only good quality is his intellect, which I see as a meet challenge. Other than that, he is undesirable to me. Enough about him, focus on me." He says.

"Oh, ofcourse." You grin, cupping his cheek and pulling him back into the kiss, running your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp soothingly. Soft moans were exchanged throughout the rest of the night, but the two of you generally decided that cuddling was more preferable in the moment than anything more intimate besides kisses, so that's how you ended the night- in the arms of your vampiric lover with the sound of his steady heartbeat right beneath your ear as the two of you chatted about anything and everything. The both of your voices were just above whispers, the soft lighting from the lamp on your nightstand added to the calming ambiance of your bedroom, allowing the two of you to peacefully fall asleep together, various types of hunger satisfied that evening.

It was raining, the dark clouds sharing your sorrows as you tried to shield yourself from the water drops. The bread you stole tasted better than what was given to you at the church, even when it was soggy. It gave you some substance, even if it still left your stomach growling. How long could you last like this?

It was freezing, the clothes on your back in worse wear than before. You kept your head down as the water drops slowly slid off of your bruised skin when something soft was thrown on you, slightly jumping.

Peeking out from underneath the heavy coat, you were met with the same violet eyes, a quick gasp leaving your lips.

“It’s troublesome to see you in this position. Had that much time passed since our meeting for the church to have fallen on hard times?”

You meekly shook your head no, finding yourself curling underneath his coat. “No sir, the church is still flourishing. I just…I was only causing them headache so it was best for me to leave.”

“I’m not under the impression that it was your choice.”

And he would be right, but you were too full of shame to admit it.

“Tell me- do you wish for a better life? One where the so-called people of God wouldn’t leave you to die on the streets?”

You do, you’ve always wished for it. You’ve wished to live comfortably- you didn’t have to be rich, or live like royalty, but you’ve wanted to live securely. Not where you would have to sleep on cobblestone, scrounging for food any chance you could get.

You wanted to live, and not have someone find your corpse underneath a bridge eventually.

“I do.” You were desperate, and if this was your only chance at fulfilling your desire and not death, you’re taking it.

“Then come with me, and I’ll give a life more than deserving.”

He held his hand out, a slight chill shooting through you when your fingers met his. Even if this did lead to your demise, a small part of you was content that you were able to meet this man once more, being sucked into his gaze once more. It was a sight that you felt like you shouldn’t have seen, dark locks framing his sharp features as the rain slid off his skin. He was beautiful.

Was he an angel sent by God?

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Please, address me as Fyodor.” He pulled you up, gently adjusting his coat on you. The rain had seem to calm down as soon as he appeared, and he led you away and to the start of your new life.

The castle he brought you to was far away from the town and deep into the woods, but God was it magnificent. It was just like you imagined from the stories your mother would tell you.

Fyodor gave you everything- warmth, food, clean clothes, your own room. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes, Fyodor noticed. He gently wiped them away, whispering that there was no need to cry anymore. You declared that you would do anything to pay him back for saving you- and he chuckled, saying that the time to take up your offer would eventually come, but not tonight.

You weren’t sure how soon he meant, until he appeared in your room in the late hours of the night. A pang of fear struck through you quickly, but you forcefully swallowed it down. He kept his word even if it was short lived, and you were grateful enough to get that.

Fyodor called your name, ushering you into his arms.

“Your heart is beating so fast- there’s no need for you to be scared.” He whispered, planting a few kisses along your neck, trailing down. His lips brought a chill down your spine. You should have known that he wasn’t human, even before you saw the sliver of his fangs. You went to push him away as he pinned you down on the sheets below.

“I’m simply giving you the life that you’ve always wanted. A life that you deserve- being by my side is more than fitting.”

The pain was excruciating, tears rolling down your cheeks as you couldn’t even choke out a scream. You could hear him slurping, feeling your own throat becoming wet. Your vision went blurry, and it was a battle to keep your eyes open, that you were greatly losing.

You accepted death without a further fight, going limp.

The next time you opened your eyes, something warm was dripping on your lips, a metallic taste filling your mouth. But it was delicious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to get more, not realizing or even caring that it was coming from Fyodor himself, snatching his wrist and latching onto it for dear life.

You looked like a demon, a savage animal with his blood smeared on the corners of your mouth, panting with a hazy look. No further explanation was needed for what you had become. You were horrified while Fyodor remained stoic, not showing any sympathy for damning you. In his eyes, he kept his word- he gave you a better life, even if it was as a creature of the night.

Time had passed, and your new way of living became your new normal. Seeing blood and draining it from anything with a heartbeat made you squeamish no longer- you never enjoyed it, but it became tolerable. Fyodor trained you, showing you the ways to survive while still treating you as before, gifting you new outfits and the fanciest trinkets. It was like before, except now you were both feasting on blood.

You grew closer to him, feeling a pull in your chest that wouldn’t reside if you weren’t with him. He began having you sleep in his room. Your heart would have been beating at the sight of the large coffin, but gripping your chest reminded you that this was fitting for you both. But soon, you began to look forward to it among other things.

You were attached to Fyodor, not having the possibility of even imagining life with another. He had to have know it too, the lingering touches he would leave to your chilled skin. You were in love with him, and him turning you only acted as twisted sort of wedding vows, with endless promises.

It was only the two of you for years, with you doing whatever he needed or wanted, even if he hadn’t asked for you to do it. He was the only one you had room for in your heart, and continued to treat you ever so gently, like a porcelain doll. If this was eternity, you found yourself to be ecstatic.

Until he brought another person home.

Then another.

And another.

To the point where he was sharing his resting place with others, and not you.

You were obviously heartbroken- were you not enough for him? Had he grown tired of you? Had you done something wrong? It was hard to swallow your worries down, especially when they would trail behind him all the time, him sending you away to bring back food for them.

You couldn’t bite your tongue anymore, crying out in distress when he began to retreat back to his quarters. You were bitter, jealous, and above all hurt.

“I thought- I thought you cared about me.”

“What gave you the impression that I don’t?”

“These strangers that you’ve brought into our home,” you crossed your arms. “Why did you turn them? Why did you bring them here of all places?”

“The same reason that I brought you here- to give them a better life.” He tilted his head, giving you that same stoic look from the night he turned you. “They were suffering as you once were. Why would you would be the only person I saved?”

His words made your heart shatter, tears welling up in your eyes. You should have been the only one here with Fyodor, not with other people that would give him the same glance that you do. It was selfish, but you deserved to at least have something just for yourself for once in your life.

It was childish to cry over it, but it hurt. God, did it hurt.

But Fyodor was there to wipe your tears away, just like he did when you were once human. “There’s no need for your tears, darling. I’ve treated you well for your years with me, have I not?”

You sniffled, nodding your head.

“And that won’t change- you’ve done so well for me, even when you were still mortal. You’ve never crossed me wrong, and I still desire you- but there are others that need to be saved just like you were.”

Fyodor brought you close, cold fingers grasping your chin. “They can be of good use to us- place your trust in me as you’ve always done.”

You found yourself getting sunken into his gaze once more. You were blinded by your feelings, shame turning into reassurance. He was right- Fyodor has never led you astray, so you had no need to doubt his words.

So you didn’t.

Even if he said the same to the others, you were special to him- the only one that meant something to him. He saved you, and gave you a better life than you could dream of.

You’ve coated your hands in blood for Fyodor, both mortal and immortal, but it was all in his name, to assure that he didn’t have to do more than he has already done.

Even when you leapt in front of him, a wooden stake driving through your chest, a solemn smile staining your bloodied lips while the one you loved glanced down, sharing a smile that should have been out of place, you had no regrets.