#vampire ben solo

[tarzelladraws]

Teefs! 🧛🏻

[marinersubmariner]

possession

[sweetrevxnge]

Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Seven

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Summary: Six long years had passed under the reign of the First Order. The bitter winters grew longer, and as they did, hope faded from the hearts of the citizens of Hosnian Prime. As a lieutenant in the Resistance cavalry, it was your duty to nurture that ember of hope. After a mission takes an unexpected turn, you are taken prisoner by a commander in the First Order, a mysterious man with an insatiable appetite—for violence, power, and you. In the coming days, you must keep the spark of your own hope alive from the dark confines of the Commander's castle.

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter-specific CW: torture (what fun!), period-typical sexism

A/N: the dead speak! lmao at least that's what it feels like coming back after an entire YEAR??? I kinda got sucked into playing 1,200+ hours of baldur's gate 3, romancing a certain vampiric elf time and time again, which gave me plenty of inspiration to continue this fic. I never meant to be gone for so long, so if you're still interested in this story, please let me know!

───────── ❅ 🦇 ❅ ─────────

What have you done?

To say that you were restless would be an understatement. The first order of business when you returned to your chambers was finding a safe place to store your stolen weapon, and now, hours later, you had yet to succeed. 

You paced the room, wearing holes in the soles of your slippers as you wondered if you had made the right decision. It was unlike you to have sticky fingers, but then again, these were unprecedented times. Boldness meant survival.

Above all, you feared Ren was privy to your thievery, despite his silence on the walk back to your chambers. The prick of blood seemed enough to distract him for a moment, or perhaps he was practiced in hiding his tells. Either way, the consequences of him knowing gnawed at your sanity.

Rey had tended the hearth while you were away, ensuring your chambers were kept warm and filled with the familiar scent of dry wood. Her diligence as a handmaid proved to be an unforeseen complication in hiding your contraband.

Instinct urged you to keep it close to your bed, but reason told you it would be found too easily there. Same with the lounges circling the hearth, whose velour cushions could conceal many things if asked to. Though a dagger lodged in one’s rear would raise many concerns, as well as promise unspeakable punishments to come.

For these reasons, you ultimately settled on the bookcase.

Towering in the corner was a collection of books and texts, dense enough to put even the most curious scholars to sleep. A perfect place to hide a dagger.

Dragging a footstool over as a makeshift ladder, you reached for a leather-bound book embossed with gold letters along its spine. Imperium Nunquam Fuit. Though written in Old Basic, you understood its meaning.

The Empire That Never Was. A phrase coined by Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin to describe the destruction of Alderaan during the Revolution. An unsavory way to speak about a fallen civilization—considering he was the man responsible.

You made quick work of hollowing the historical text, skimming the page you’d turned to before defacing it. This passage detailed the last of the Imperial attacks on Alderaan, near the end of the Rebellion. One of the more infamous sieges of the war, earning its place in history with a tithe of blood and destruction.

The lines of script told the story of how Imperial soldiers salted Alderaan’s lands and butchered the citizens—babes and crones included. The Empire was thorough, wiping out an entire civilization over a mere conspiracy. With few survivors, and even fewer successors, Alderaanian blood was a rarity. You supposed that was one of the many things that set General Organa apart from the rest.

Considering the contents, it was a book of little interest to the First Order—a perfect hiding place.

The point of your blade pierced the parchment with ease, as if slicing through a block of butter rather than a thousand-page text. Tragic as it was to ruin a book like this, what other choice did you have? Hosnian Prime’s Grand Archives likely stored dozens of copies; one locked away in the depths of the First Order’s fortress would not be missed.

The fit was snug, but it would do for now. As for the pages you’d carved out, they laid in a pile at your feet, a messy reminder that your room was not private.

You slammed the book shut and returned it, hurrying to clean the shreds of paper scattered across the red carpets. Despite your efforts, the fragments proved too difficult to clean with just your hands alone, forcing you to sweep them into your skirts.

As you carried the pieces to the hearth, a gentle knock sounded through the oak doors. “Gods,” you muttered as you rushed towards the fire, dumping the pages unceremoniously onto the crackling wood.

Another rap on the door.

“Just a moment, please!” It was impossible to hide the panic in your voice as you prodded at the withering pages with an iron poker. Time seemed to slow as you watched the flames engulf the ink, turning Alderaan’s history to ash once more.

“It’s me, my lady.” Muffled by the wood, Rey’s voice was barely audible over the fire, hissing with fresh fodder. If any good came from her being your visitor, it was her staunch etiquette. She would not barge in uninvited—unlike some of the castle’s residents.

Brushing the slivers of evidence from your gown, you opened the doors, mindful of the lingering ash in the hearth. “My apologies. I was…” You cleared your throat, smoothing out your skirts before finishing your lie. “Indecent.”

Demure as ever, Rey dropped her gaze as she curtseyed before you. “It’s no matter, my lady. I was sent to fetch you; the Supreme Leader requests your presence.”

The moment his name left her lips, cotton filled your mouth, forcing its way down your throat as you swallowed your fear. What reason would the Supreme Leader have to summon you—at this late hour, no less?

Your thoughts immediately turned to Commander Ren. Perhaps he had noticed your theft after all and reported your offence to Snoke. If that were true, you vowed to slice his throat first. 

“Did he give a reason?” you asked, trying to maintain your resolve.

Rey’s throat knocked in her slender neck. “He did not say.”

Part of you wanted to take the damned blade with you, but recklessness wouldn’t serve you. Though you did not recognize him as your ruler, you were not keen on adding treason to your ledger.

You sighed, coming to stand beside Rey at the door, shoulders pressed back and hands folded over your lap. “I’m surprised he didn’t send you with manacles.”

She said nothing, but the trace smile on her lips told you all that you needed to know. You couldn’t blame her for watching her tongue around you. Given what transpired last night, you would do the same in her position.

The two of you walked in near silence to the throne chambers, passing countless tall windows with panes stained a deep red, dark enough to block most light from entering. What little light did manage to seep through painted the halls crimson, giving the appearance of blood spilling over the floor.

The burned pages of text flashed in your mind.

Every step forward was committed to memory, including the number of paces between notable fixtures, as well as where each one stood in relation to your chambers. Still, there was no sign of an access point in this section of the castle. But your resolve did not falter. If there was a means of entry into this accursed fortress, there must also be a means of escape.

As you rounded the corner to another corridor, you glanced at your handmaid, noticing that her usual singular bun had evolved into three smaller ones, meeting the nape of her neck in a uniform line.

“You’ve changed your hair.” The observation came out as more of a question than a comment.

“Yes, my lady,” she said, delicate fingers reaching to touch the one near her collar. “An effort to be closer to the gods.”

You furrowed your brows. “How’s that?”

“As there are three of them, there are three knots. We servants are forbidden to worship openly, so we find other ways.” She closed her eyes for a moment, tilting her chin towards her chest. “Divine strength allows clarity of the mind.”

While you were not necessarily a pious woman, you were familiar enough with the gods from your upbringing to understand what she meant. As a child, you often prayed at your family’s shrine, asking for a bountiful harvest, good health, and, most of all, peace in the realm. For many years, they fulfilled your wishes. Now, your faith provided you with little comfort.

“Certainly,” you said, not wanting to discuss the subject any further. “Are we nearly there?”

“Just down this hall,” she said, her tone clipped. Either she was annoyed with the change of subject, or just as uneasy about seeing the Supreme Leader as you were.

True to her word, Rey came to a stop near the end of the corridor, leaving a short distance between you and the two looming oak doors, with iron enforcements woven into the grain and a guard posted on either side. Their faces were concealed by crimson veils, the signature regalia of the Praetorian Guard. Those tasked with protecting the ruler of these lands, whether they carried the title of Chancellor, Emperor, or Supreme Leader.

The warmth drained from your face at the sight.

“This is where I leave you, my lady.” Her face lacked its usual peachy hue, her freckles washed away by the candlelight. “The Supreme Leader does not allow us to enter these chambers, save for when he is passing judgment upon us.”

Standing before the faceless guards, you understood her unease.

“Will you be here to escort me back?” you asked, palms growing damp as you clutched the fabric of your gown.

“It is late. I must turn in for the evening.” She shifted her weight, eyes darting between you and the guards, whose presence seemed to loom over you from meters away. “Besides, I should think you do not require my assistance from this point.”

With that, she turned on her heels and retreated, her steps muted as she faded into the stretching darkness of the hallway. Turning to face the guards, dread settled in your stomach. Surely these warriors would not accompany you back to your chambers.

You studied them for a moment, the strategist in your mind seeking to understand what threat they posed. Both were tall and well-fed, given the size of their uniforms. The one to your left carried a bisento, while the other held a tall voulge, both equally unnerving. Their blades were pristine, foreign to combat. You wondered if the same could be said for those wielding them, too.

As if seeking to test your theory, they readied their weapons as you approached, each blade humming as it sliced through the air.

You came to a halt, the hair on the back of your neck now stiff. “I’ve been summoned by the Supreme Leader.”

The two remained poised to strike for a long moment before returning to their sentry state, offering one another a brisk nod as they pushed the heavy doors open, revealing the grand throne room. With tentative steps, you approached, pausing at the threshold.

Black marble columns lined the walkway to the throne, each manned by a knight of the Praetorian Guard, their crimson armor matching the First Order banners draped along the cobbled walls. Above the throne was the room’s sole window, with red stained panels filling the space between the spokes of the First Order insignia. Six steps carved of the same dark mineral as the columns led to the throne, lined with black velvet upholstery and a towering slate backing. Perched comfortably in the seat was Supreme Leader Snoke, draped in golden robes that flowed over his limbs like smelted ore, barely concealing the matching jewelry wrapped snugly around his fingers.

The paragon of humility.

He was joined by another: the fire-haired General Hux. His gaze snapped to you as the doors creaked open, beady eyes piercing you like darts from across the chamber.

“Ah, my guest of honor,” Snoke crooned, clasping his hands before his chest in delight. His tone fell icy as he turned to address the General. “Leave us.”

Confusion spread across his pale features as he turned to face Snoke once more. “But, Supreme Leader, there is still much to be discussed.”

“Perhaps I did not make myself clear. You are to leave these chambers at once, General Hux, or you will be removed.” Snoke’s gravelly voice rumbled through the hall with the force of a thousand footsteps, and reluctantly, Hux obeyed.

You watched the scene play out before you from the safety of the doorway, your feet rooted to the floor.

Snoke relaxed in his chair once more, beckoning you in with a hand gesture. “Please, come in, darling.”

Willing your feet to move, you did as he asked, eyes flitting between the Praetorian guard and the approaching General Hux, whose expression could only be described as irate as he brushed past you, black coat fluttering behind him.

Your heart was lodged in your throat as you neared the throne, feeling like a lamb being shepherded towards the maw of a lion. You stopped in line with the last of the guards before the Supreme Leader, leaving some distance still.

Snoke watched you with keen eyes, a stark contrast to his stoic front. “I do hope you are well, my dear. I can only imagine the days spent in anticipation of your wedding are agonizing.”

You frowned. “Is that why you summoned me? To ask me about my wedding?”

“Of course not. But pleasantries are the foundation of any proper conversation.” The humor fell from his voice. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” The words left a sour taste in your mouth, like wine crafted from grapes plucked too early.

Satisfied, he settled back into his throne, resting his hands over the ornate armrests. “See? Deference needn’t be cumbersome.”

His mocking tone made your vision red, but you held your tongue. Invisible threads tied you to him and his guards, each one pulled taught in the silence. It would take nothing more than a misstep to cause one of them to snap.

He spoke again, this time with authority. “It has come to my attention that you are unaware of what is expected of you as a noblewoman.”

You let out a terse exhale. “I suppose I am. Perhaps that is because of the conditions under which I am becoming one.”

A thin smile curled on the Supreme Leader’s lips. “These are unprecedented times, lieutenant.”

The emphasis on your title made your skin crawl. Snoke was calculated, sadistic. With his power, he was untouchable. The red veils surrounding you served as a constant reminder of his invulnerability.

“Now, I am curious. How did you manage that?” he added, tilting his head in intrigue. “A commoner like yourself rising to the rank of a commanding officer is no easy feat—even more so for a woman.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I hardly see how this is relevant to my new status as a noblewoman.”

Despite your outward naivety, you knew too well what being a noblewoman would entail. You’d known from the moment your betrothal was announced. You were to be the docile wife of a commander, providing him an heir, a spare, and a warm bed whenever he pleased. Your military career would be swept away by the title of Lady Ren, all traces of your independence lost to time. You couldn’t think of anything less appealing.

“As a Lady of the First Order, you will be granted privileges seldom given to others, such as this.” Snoke motioned to the surrounding space, and you found yourself unable to decipher his meaning.

He isn’t referring to having an audience with the ruler of the realm as a privilege, is he?

He continued, “The safety of the castle. Our stronghold. You will be protected within its walls.”

Oh. Of course.

You suppressed a scoff. “I find that hard to believe, considering Commander Ren has attempted to strangle me twice over since my arrival.”

“I see,” he mused, pressing an index finger to his lips in thought. “My mercurial underling. If only his mind were half as quick as his temper.”

Somehow, your first instinct was to defend Commander Ren from his inflaming remark. While the Supreme Leader was correct about Ren’s temperament, he didn’t see the side of him that you saw—however infrequently it may have showed itself. There was a tenderness to him, fleeting in nature, like a luminescent star ripping through the night sky. You saw it in his eyes as he sat before your hearth, again when he laced your bodice.

Or perhaps what you felt was just the lingering effects of his charm.

Snoke’s rough voice broke your reverie. “Nevertheless, I’m sure Commander Ren had his reasons. Just as I’m sure whatever actions may have led to these outbursts will cease henceforth, won’t they?”

Before you could answer, a searing pain sliced through your skull, its barbed tendrils reaching into the deepest part of your consciousness. Every muscle in your body became succinctly rigid, frozen in place as an invisible force suspended you midair. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to call out; for the gods, for your mother—even for Commander Ren.

“You will behave yourself, insolent girl, or you will be disposed of.”

Despite your efforts, no sound would come from your throat. An eternity seemed to pass as the Supreme Leader kept you trapped, holding your feet to the fire of his anger. Mustering every ounce of strength, you forced your chin down in agreement, hot tears distorting your vision.

Without moving a muscle, he relinquished his hold on you, your knees cracking against the marble floor in an instant. The violet fabric of your gown pooled around you like the blood of a slain enemy, collecting the tears that fell from your chin.

Before you could find your voice, the creak of wood and subsequent rustling of armor behind you swiped your attention. The guards had readied their weapons, aiming at something other than you.

You flinched as the doors slammed shut, followed by a heavy—yet quick—footfall.

“What is the meaning of this?” Commander Ren’s voice was biting, filled with untamed fury as he entered the grand hall. His cloak rippled behind him like the night sea, silver sword in hand as he marched forward.

You scurried backwards on your tender palms, caught between his rage and the throne. He drew closer, only stopping at the intersection of two of the guards’ blades.

“Commander Ren, what a welcome surprise,” Snoke crooned. “Your bride was just leaving.”

His eyes found yours in an instant—wild and dark. Silently, you pleaded for his cooperation. If he were to strike at the guard, your life would be forfeit.

Outnumbered by eight blades, he stowed his own. “What have you done?” he demanded.

Though he was looking at you, his question was directed at the man atop the throne, whose enthusiasm at his subordinate’s display was palpable.

“Nothing you have not already done yourself,” Snoke growled. With that, he stood to his feet and stepped down from his throne, closing the gap you’d deliberately left and standing over you. “See her back to her chambers, Commander.”

A snarl flashed across Ren’s face as he pushed past the guards and kneeled before you, extending a gloved hand for you. Though he was quiet, his eyes were heavy with guilt.

With legs like a new foal, you accepted his help, gripping his hand like a lifeline as you stood. “Thank you.” The words floated from your mouth, burning your throat as they passed through.

He only nodded in return, guiding you away from the chamber. Because of his intrusion, the outer guards were now sealed inside, allowing some privacy in the dimly lit hall.

Ren came to a halt, moving both of his cool hands to rest on your shoulders, inspecting you. “Are you hurt?”

Averting your eyes, you shook your head dismissively, ignoring how your knees seemed to rattle with every step.

He let out an amused hum. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you will, Commander,” you managed to say through your dry mouth. “I’m fine.”

At that, the two of you carried on in silence, meandering through the castle, passing knights and servants alike down each corridor. Ren’s emotion rolled off of him like heat from a flame, slowly dwindling the further you were from the throne room.

As your legs regained their strength, so did your voice. “How did you know I was in there?”

“Does that really matter?”

“I’d say so. For all I know, you’re the reason he summoned me in the first place,” you argued, head spinning as you tried to recognize your surroundings. Only when you realized these walls were unfamiliar did your pace falter. “Stop!”

He obeyed, meeting you where you stood. “What?”

“Answer me.”

He let out a terse breath. “No, I am not the reason he summoned you. Come, we can discuss this later.”

At that, he began his stride again, but you didn’t follow. “No. I will not take one more step. Not before I know where you are taking me, as it is clearly not my chambers.”

“I’m bringing you somewhere private,” he finally answered.

“Are my chambers not private enough?”

“By the gods,” he hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “As I’m sure you’re well aware, it is unbecoming of me to be seen entering your chambers before we are wed.”

You scoffed. “How pragmatic of you.”

Ignoring your comment, he continued, “After your encounter with the Supreme Leader, I think it’s best if we avoid unnecessary speculation—for your sake.”

You couldn’t argue with him. If Snoke was inclined to submit you to the rawest agony over the slightest display of defiance, you could only imagine what else he was capable of.

“Fine,” you conceded, seeing reason in his words. “But let it be known that my cooperation does not reflect my satisfaction with this decision.”

A smile ghosted over his lips. “I know.”

[aberrantcreature]

The Count and the Maiden 🩸🦇

[cas-backwards-tie]

ADCU Masterlist

A/N: Just making a separate masterlist for this because I have a fair number of these and also there's a bunch of different characters!

Kylo Ren

Call Me Kylo | Officer!Reader ↠ You're tasked with getting the Commander's signature to finish your assignment. Unfortunately, you can't find the Commander anywhere.

Correspondence ↠ The Supreme Leader has a lot on his plate, leading him to neglect certain things... like himself, for example.

Nothing But A Monster | Vampire! AU ↠ Forced to accept help from a mysterious stranger, you find yourself in a predicament of sorts.

It’s The Small Things ↠ Kylo finds your optimism odd in place of the First Order.

The Meaning Of Care | Officer!Reader ↠ Kylo Ren takes care of you when you're sick? That's something you never would've seen coming.

Clyde Logan

Pinball & Motels ↠ Roadtrips, A present for Clyde, and the one-bed trope? What more could you ask for?

A Day Off ↠ Clyde finally takes a well-deserved day off.

Flip Zimmerman

Frenzied Rendezvous* ↠ Flip finally has his way with you after enduring your teasing all night long.

Pale

Early Mornings ↠ Pale wakes up to find you making breakfast. It's like you plan on staying or something. Wait... do you plan on staying?

Solo Triplets

A Quiet Night ↠ The boys want to take you out on a proper date.

Ben Solo

Fairytale Mess* ↠ Sleeping with Ben Solo doesn't seem like such a bad idea when you're both under the influence.

Paul Sevier

Extraordinary ↠ Paul attempts to go out and have a social nigh. After everything that's happened... things haven't changed him that much, have they?

Daniel Jones

Late Night Confessions ↠ Dan wakes you up with a drunken phone call.

Multi-Character

headcanons

Breakup Headcanons

[safraneeek]

@huxloween Day 11: Vampire

[reyloscoven]

Collages of my 4 favorite ships 🥰🥰

[danae-darthnoire]

i forgot to share it on here!

i wrote a little something for Reyloween2024

“I can give you what you crave. What you’re hungry for.”

Her eyes widened and her pupils swallowed her irises completely. Benjamin had no idea how she was resisting the hunger he knew roiled in her stomach, how she still seemed to be fighting it even as her body worked on eating itself.

[piglet26]

Top Four Romances I'm Furious Didn't Get a Happy Ending

4. Jack and Rose

Blame the door. Blame Rose. Blame James Cameron. Blame science. I don't care. I, and everyone else, HATED that Jack died. After all that.......... he dies? Seemingly in a dumb way.

James Cameron has obviously expanded on his decision making skills regarding deciding to kill Jack. Obviously while it was about Jack's science and the pure significance of the sum of loss the true meaning was......Rose. Rose went from her mother, to Cal, to Jack. She was always dependent on someone for survival, status, guidance or permission to live. If she had gone with Jack she'd be living Jack's life. Jack dying is what forced Rose to finally take control of her own life. I get that. It's noble. I also wanted Jack to live. The audience did as well and it did look like if she just moved over.... he would have.

Don't even get me started on "My Heart Will Go On" cause imma cry.

3. Buffy and Angel

Probably the greatest more tragic romance ever. A couple that defined the 90s with electric chemistry that saved this couple from being creepy instead made it sweet and chaste. Angel fell in love with Buffy the moment he saw her. It was her that motivated him to become A Champion. He gave her the iconic Claddagh ring.  That night, they slept together for the first time, which resulted in Angel experiencing the "moment of true happiness" required to end his curse. He was alleviated of his soul, and reverted to the guiltless, sadistic Angelus........ breaking viewers hearts. Especially this viewer. While Spuffy grew on me and Bangle grew apart..... it became clear even in the worst of times they were connected by the heart.

A romance destined to end in disaster all the same. This one was for the history books.

2. Augustus “Gus” Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster 

Working through their illnesses together, the two manage a relationship that is mature beyond their years. Part of what makes the end of this romance so difficult to watch is the fact that though Hazel is much sicker than Gus, his cancer ends up making an aggressive and unexpected return. We should have known it wasn't going to end well, but we were hopefully, THEY were hopefully. The scene when Hazel gets the phone call that Gus passed away, pain just pain. Shailene deserved at least the very a nominiation.

Reylo

We could have had it all. Ben and Rey could have had the best of both worlds, powerful light and powerful darkness, a balance. Their love story could have brought balanced to the force.

Ben had felt alone and abandoned for a really long time, and had tried to channel those feelings to gain more power, but was clearly failing and having doubts. Then along comes a girl with whom he shares a fate-like connection, with a similar past of parent abandonment/betrayal issues, who opens up to him & seems convinced that he is meant to be someone better.... will become someone better.

But the internet is why we can't have nice things. Reylo benefited from it's fandom, it also was severely wounded from people determined to paint Reylo as something that it wasn't due to their own issues.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Reunited

Summary: He finally found you and he won’t let you slip away from him again. 

Warning: mentions of death, vampire sex, stalking, being a bit of a creep, smut, dubcon a bit, blood blood blood, a dash of necrophilia i think. a bit of grammar error. Used a line from Bram Dracula the movie.

A/N: I wrote this because Adam Driver needs to play Dracula. Enjoy!

»»————-　♡　————-««

You knew someone or something was following you. You could feel a presence near you for a while now. It’s been weeks with the same feeling. Whenever you were out, shopping or even going to work you felt like you were being followed then the dreams started to occur. The dreams would start off with you being inside of an old, decaying chapel with the walls and pews rotting. The dream would be so vivid that you can feel the cold air in the chapel as you walked to the altar. There was a man by the altar, you could never see his face but he was always there giving his back to you. Whenever you were about to face him, the dream would shift. 

The white ceiling and bright fluorescent lights would be beaming down on your face. You were being rolled on top of a gurney. Shouting and the sound of machines beeping bounced off the peach colored walls of the hospital made you feel uneasy. The dream will shift quickly to another scenario. You were running with someone in the woods. You would look behind your shoulder to see a group of men chasing you in the woods. You were pulled closer to the man you were running with when a gunshot was fired. 

The dreams had gotten so violent and horrific you started to wake up in a cold sweat and tears streaming down your face. After the second week of these dreams, you started to notice things around your apartment were missing or certain things would be out of place. Clothes or jewelry would be missing then your bed would be made. It was the fourth week when your coworkers had invited you out for drinks. You immediately accepted wanting to have a drink and try to forget everything going on. You didn’t tell anyone about these dreams, you just hoped they would go away. 

You let out a sigh as you walked down the street, you should have gotten a ride back home after drinks with your coworkers but you had told them that the fresh air would do you good. Crossing the street into an empty alley you came to a halt. You always took this shortcut to your apartment but tonight something was off. You held on tight to your shoulder bag. The feeling was starting again. You had the feeling of someone staring at you but nothing compared to the night before. You felt a presence in your bedroom, rolling on to your side in your sleep. You opened your eyes and sat up right away when you saw a figure at the corner of your room quickly turning on the lamp on the nightstand. You looked back at the corner and saw the figure was gone. 

The feeling in your gut screamed at you to go the other way but all you wanted to do was to go home. You took a deep breath and quickly walked inside the ally. There were only two lights, one from the beginning of the alley that you just passed and the other one at the end. You can see cars passing by and a few people walking by as well. You felt a bit at ease when the street light provided you with a bit of light so you wouldn't trip on your face. You were halfway through the alley when you stopped. You heard  footsteps behind you. You felt your heart drop at the sound. You held your breath when you looked down at the pavement and saw a shadow next to yours, it was bigger than your shadow.

“Don’t be afraid.” Your eyes widen at the sound of the deep voice behind you. You felt a hand grab your upper arm making you cry out. The person behind turned you and pushed you against the brick wall of the alley. 

Before you can shout out, the person covered your mouth with his hand. You looked up at him, he was tall and he was handsome. Skin like a porcelain doll, beauty marks were scattered all over his face. His nose was large, below you saw a pair of pink lips. He had a bit of stubble over his chin. You looked back at his lips.  You have never seen such inviting lips before. Looking up, you saw his eyes were almost black. You knew his hair was a dark color, it blended so well in the dark

“Finally found you. I was looking everywhere for you.” He said softly, making you flinch when he got closer to you, his hand was still over your mouth as he leaned down. You frowned at his words.

“Don't shout, okay?” He tells you. You nodded, he removed his hand from your mouth. 

“Please don’t hurt me. Please.” You told him, making him shake his head at you. You whimpered as his cold hands cupped your face. You were shocked when his thumbs glided over your cheeks. His touch was so gentle but yet his large fingers were cold.

“Look at me.” He pulled you from the wall with your face in his hands. You clenched your hands on his forearms. Your nails digging into the leather jacket he wore. He dragged you into the middle of the alley where the light was a bit brighter. 

“Look at me.” He commanded. You started to feel a sense of comfort as you stared into his eyes. You saw a hint of red glowing around his iris. 

“Sleep now.” Your body obeyed him, you shut your eyes and fell in his arms. He leaned down to pick your lower half in his arms. He began to walk down the alley. You wanted to shout, you wanted to cry but all you can do is let out a whine. Seconds away before falling into the abyss of a deep sleep, you heard him speak. 

“I finally found you, my love.”

The sound of wood crackling welcomed you out of your sleep. Opening your eyes you saw a large collection of pillows around you, all of them were different shapes and colors. You sat yourself up on the bed pushing the blanket off of you. Your eyes widened by how enormous the bed you laid on. Carefully you began to push yourself off the edge of the bed, moving the pillows to the side. You shivered as your toes touched the cold concrete floor. You walked away from the bed and let out a shocked gasp by the room around you. Room looked like it came out straight from a catalog of the medieval age. The fireplace at the end of the room burned providing some kind of warmth. You looked around your surroundings, hundreds of candles were lit around the room. The candles were placed around the bedroom. The wax of the candles softly dripped onto the gold trays that were underneath. You couldn’t find any window, there were enormous red velvet curtains covering the walls of the room. 

‘What the fuck is this place?’ You told yourself as you walked to the fireplace. You jumped at the sound of a door unlocking. You noticed a door near the fireplace opening. 

You froze when you saw him, the stranger. He leaned against the door frame as he stared at you. He was barefoot and wore a black tee along with dark jeans. You blushed under his gaze, no one has stared at you like him. He looked down to your chest then to your bare feet. You just then realized as you looked down at yourself, you wore a nightgown. A gown that was completely see through. He had changed your clothes while you slept. 

‘What kind of nightgown is this?’ You told yourself as he stared at your breasts through the gown. He could see you trying to cover your breasts with your arms as you looked at him with a red face. 

Without noticing from your embarrassment, his eyes lowered to the patch of hair that rested on your mound. You heard him inhale loudly, his jaw clenched hard. He could smell you. He can smell the fear and excitement running through you.

“It’s your favorite nightgown.” You looked at him with curious eyes when he spoke. He pushed himself off of the door frame and shut the door behind him with a bang.

“The nightgown. You were thinking what kind of nightgown it is. It’s your favorite.” He said it so nonchalantly that it scared you. 

“I think you have me confused.” You said looking around, trying to find a way to escape. 

“No.” The man said, shaking his head as he walked toward you.

“It’s you.” He said as you walked away from him but failed. He was too fast for you to even get away from him. You gasped when he push you against the cover curtain walls. His hands gripped your hips hard making you wince. You placed your hands on his chest trying to push him off but he didn't budge. 

“Who are you?” You asked looking up at him. You instantly regret asking him that. He was staring at you with those black eyes again. 

“I've been called many names.“ He spoke as he leaned against you. You felt his lips against your forehead, you gasped when his hands went down to your ass as he pulled you against his chest. He squeezed your ass giving it a slight shake. The gesture sent shockwaves throughout your whole body. 

“Names?” You asked as he pulled his lips away from your forehead. You tried to ignore his hands on you.  

He hummed as he kept touching your ass. You whined under your breath by his action. He started to lift the gown from behind, all the way up to your hips. He let out a satisfied groan when he felt bare ass. 

“Adam, Kylo, and Ben.” He mumbled under his breath as he bunched the gown into his fist and held it against your hip. 

“The list goes on and on.” He continued. 

You were about to push him away when he grabbed the back of your legs. You cried out when he lifted you. Your legs wrapped around his hips he leaned you against the wall. 

“Please.” You let out a sob when you felt your bare cunt against the front of his jeans. You move your hips trying to get away from him but all you did was rub more against his now hardened cock. 

“Your pussy is so warm.” He told you as you kept moving your hips trying to get away. He dropped his mouth open slightly and without a word he leaned down to your chest. You can feel his wet tongue; the thin fabric of the gown was wet from his open kisses. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders in fear of falling. He gripped your ass harder when he felt you shift. His long dark hair covered his face. You saw it reach down to his shoulders as he stood up a bit to lean over to your other breast. His teeth nipping at your nipple make you wail. 

“Fuck.” You cried out. He moaned as he pulled away from your breasts and began to kiss your neck.

This was wrong. Completely wrong. Your mind was telling you to push him, hit him. Make him free you at once. You needed to leave. You wonder how long you have been here. How long have you been asleep? Was your family looking for you? Your friends?

“Relax, my love.” You froze when you heard a voice inside your head. 

“You hear me, don't you?” You realized Kylo had stopped kissing your neck and looked at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Yes.” You answered inside your head. Kylo let out a wide smile, showing his white slightly crooked teeth. He was quick to carry you towards the bed. He threw you to the bed like a rag doll. You quickly turned around and started to crawl away from him. 

“Noo!” You screamed when you felt his hands on your ankles. You gripped the sheets as he pulled you to the edge of the bed making a few pillows fall over to the floor. 

You began to kick and waved your arms. 

“Stop!” He yelled at you as he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them behind your back. You groaned from his large frame over you. The edge of bed sank under his weight. He moved his hips as he gripped your wrists tightly making you cry out. 

“Please. Don’t. Please. I’m not who you think I am. I’m Y/n. Please. I’m Y/n.” You cried to him. You gasped when given a harsh thrust against your ass making you curl your toes. 

“It’s you, my love. You promised you would remember. It’s been so long. I haven't had a woman’s touch in so long. I only want you.” The stranger whined to you as he kept grinding against you. You shut your eyes when thrusting against you once more. You could feel you cunt getting wetter. 

“It’s me.” He said pushing himself off of you and letting your wrists free. You gasped when he grabbed your legs and flipped you on your back. You frowned when you saw he was naked. It was impossible that he removed his clothes so quickly. You stared at his broad shoulders and toned stomach. You can see his happy trail leading to his cock hanging between his lean thighs. 

He was thick with neatly trimmed hair around. You saw a visible vein on the side already throbbing. You quickly closed your legs so he wouldn’t see your wet cunt through the gown. Wincing at his rough touch he grabbed the hem on the gown. The sound of fabric was so loud it scared you. You were open to him. He spread your legs, his hands lower to the back of your legs. He pushed the back of your legs to spread over. He had you in a mating position. 

“Please! Please!” You cried out as you felt him lower himself on you. He looked at you with a smile. You shook when you felt his cock against your cunt. 

“Draga mea, eram atât de singur fără tine.” (My love, I was so lonely without you.) He tells you before moaning to you as he places a hand next to your head and uses the other to stroke himself against your cunt. 

“What?” You cried at the foreign language he spoke. You didn’t understand him. 

He slapped the head of his cock on your cunt a few times. You licked your lips at the wet sounds he made as he slapped against your cilt. He groaned as he saw your clit peeking out of your folds. He bumps the head of his cock against it making you moan. He played with your slick.

“Kylo.” You yelled remembering it was one of the names he told you. He looked at you when you shouted the name. He froze and stared at you. 

“Lubirea mea.” (My love) He whispered as he placed both hands on either side of your head. 

“Yes.” You told him, looking up at him. You had no idea what he said but by the look of his face he looked so happy. 

“Please, Kylo. Let me go.” You begged as your hands went up to cup his face. Moving his hair out of his face as you begged him once more. You thought probably by doing this gesture you will make him stop. Kylo slowly dropped down over you. Your hands never left his face as he used his arms to cage your head. Those black eyes stared at you again. It scared you and you  looked away from him. You stared at the curtain walls ahead of you. He took a deep breath as he kissed your cheek. You dropped your hands and gripped the bed sheet. 

“It’s been too long since I last saw you. I missed you. Your face, touch, body. Your soul.” He whispered looking down at you. Your brows knitted together when you looked at his face. He looked like he was about to cry. 

“Please.” He begged you. 

“Please. I need to be inside of you. I want to feel you..” He said as he started to kiss your neck. You let out a gasp when licked the side of your neck and made his way to your face. 

“I missed you.” He told you as he kissed the corner of your lips making you cry. He stopped when he saw the tears. 

You begin to sob louder when you feel him licking your tears away. You didn’t understand why you felt so heartbroken by his words. His large body was between your legs. His cock rested against your cunt. Your cheeks and eyes were red from crying but your lower half had a mind of its own. You knew it was wrong but why? Why was your body reacting in a different way? 

“Please.” You whispered to him, grabbing his face harshly making him look down at you. 

“I’m scared. Please.” You said looking into his eyes. Hoping that those words will get through him and stop this craziness. 

“Kiss me and you won’t be.” He told you. 

“I won’t stop. You told me to do this. Don’t you remember?” He questioned as he moved his hips making you gasped when you felt his cock slide between your folds once more. 

“You're so wet.” He groaned as he leaned down to your face. 

“Your body remembers.” He tells as he bumped your nose against your cheek.

“Kiss me.” He pleaded as you looked at his eyes, your heart started to slow down and your mind started to go blank as you kept staring at his eyes. You didn’t get scared when you saw red glow around his pupils. 

“I have crossed oceans of time to find you. Now that I have you. I won't ever let you leave.” He told you. 

You met his lips with yours and kissed him, opening your mouth to let him in. You felt it. Pure adrenaline and warmth spread deep in your chest. He was rough and needy with his kisses almost like he was dying. He kissed you like you were his only salvation. 

You cried out when you felt him nip your bottom lip. You pulled away when you tasted cooper. You looked up at him. His lips were stained red with your blood. You saw his tongue lick his bottom lip. He let out a low moan after licking his top lip.  

“Fuck.” 

You shouted when he thrust inside of you without warning. You threw your head back as he stretched you out. You grabbed his shoulders tightly, holding on for dear life. You felt him pushing more into you. He moaned loudly as he gripped your outer thighs. He looked down to see your pussy wide open on his cock. 

His eyes darken as he could hear your heart beating faster, your sweet blood rushing through your veins as you moved your hips. He could see your breasts bouncing from his movements. 

“Fuck..oh.” You cried, bringing your head up to look up at him. He was surprised when you held on his neck and pulled him for another kiss. He gladly kissed you back. His tongue played with yours as he began to pull out and push himself back into you. 

His chest puffed in pride with every whimper you pour into his mouth. He began to thrust repeatedly into you at a harsh pace.

With no strength left to push him away, you let him consume you. You let him use you. It felt too good with every thrust you could feel him deep inside of you. His balls slapped against your ass, his grunts above of you made you clench tightly around. You whine when you pull the back of your legs towards your chest. He grabbed your legs, letting it dangle on the crook of your arms. 

You looked at him and saw he was staring at you with hooded eyes. His mouth parted open as he moaned. 

“Feel so good! Missed you. Missed this pussy.” He moaned as he dropped a leg down to bring a hand to your chest. He tweaked your right nipple with his thumb and index finger. 

“You’re so big.” You cried out with a whine as you felt the head of his cock hit your g-spot. Your toes curled as he hit it again. You felt his fingers go up to your lips. Without thinking you grabbed his wrist and opened your mouth. You welcomed his large fingers into your mouth. He let out a whine when you started to suck on his large fingers. You sucked his index and middle finger in as he fucked you. Whimpering and drooling on him, he felt himself about to cum. It’s been too long. Too long since he fucked, too long since he felt a woman’s touch, your touch. 

You look just as beautiful as he remembered years ago. You haven't changed a bit, hair was a bit different but same eyes and the same pretty lips. You took him the same. 

He looked down at you, he let his fingers slip out of your mouth and dragged his fingers down to your chin, to the middle of your throat then between your breasts. He laid his hand flat on your stomach. You were about to cum too. He can feel your stomach tighten with every thrust he gives you. He found your pussy, his fingertips touching the soft hair. He groans under his breaths as he touches your throbbing wet clit. 

“Please.” He heard you cry out as you began to move along with his thrust. 

“Doing so good, Iubirea mea. You take me well.” He praises you. 

The sound of your wet sopping pussy was loud. He started to breathe loudly when he felt you dripping down his balls as he swiped your clit under his thumb. 

“Oh..Oh..Kylo. Yes, Iubirea mea..” You cried out with a nod when you felt your orgasm coming near. 

His eyes shot up to you and saw you with your head thrown back as you gripped the sheets beneath you. You told him, Iubirea mea. 

He quickly rubbed your clit faster and harder making you cry out. He was going to make you remember. He’s going to pound the memories of both of you together. He’s going to cum deep inside of you so you can remember everything. He knew he had to turn to you now. He wasn't going to lose you again. Not like last time. 

Not again. Never again. He won't lose you this time. 

Moaning loudly as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, your eyes widened as you came over his cock. Clenching around his cock so tightly you felt him lean over you. He let out a ghastly growl and let his mouth drop open, his canines grew into sharp fangs. His eyes turned into pitched black, his large fingers turned into sharp claws as he gripped the bed sheets, ripping the sheets. 

You let out a scream as you saw the man in front and inside of you transforming into a creature. His face was the last thing you saw before he went for your neck. His fangs sank deep into your neck. Your cries turn into moans of pleasure as he keeps sucking your neck while he thrusts slowly into your sensitive cunt. 

Nails rank down his bare back, all you can hear was the sound of ringing. You felt like you were high, your bones turning into jello, arms and legs felt heavy. All you felt was his thick cock sliding in and out of you. The bed moving from his harsh thrusts. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone.  

You felt weaker, your hands dropped on to the bed as sweet pleasure from between your legs disappeared and the pain from your neck grew. 

Unable to say anything or move you just stared at the ceiling. You felt the bed shift underneath you as he moved you into the center of bed. Tears pool in your eyes as the pain grows stronger. It felt like your body was on fire.

“I know, lubirea mea.” He whispered as he gently removed himself from you. He was back into his normal form. He looked down at your cunt. You were dripping, plump lips slick with your cum. He couldn't help but lean down to licked your slit, sucking your clit clean. He gave a kiss inside your thigh and quickly got up to work.

His large frame quickly placed pillows near the headboard of the bed. When he was done, he gently grabbed you. He hummed to you and kissed your cheeks. Your vision grew weary. Spots began to appear, you were losing breath. You moaned from the pain. 

He groaned as he leaned against the pillows where the headboard is. He had pulled you on top of him. His hard cock still stood up as he saw your blood dripping down from your neck to your breasts. Your legs were on either side of him. He lets out a groan as he slips into you. He pulls you chest to chest. Your head laid on his collarbone. 

“You’ll feel better.” You tells you as he started to fuck you from underneath. 

He wraps an arm over you keeping you in place as the other hand squeezed your ass. He continued to fuck you and the pain was disappeared by pleasure but you were still feeling out of breath. Your vision was going dark as he fucked you hard. He heard your heart stop when he came inside of  you. He let out a loud moan as he held you. He looked down at you to see you, your eyes were closed, lips parted open. He shut his eyes and enjoyed his orgasm. His hand gave your ass one last good and hard squeeze before going up to rub your back softly. Your dead body laid on top of him as he still remained inside of you. 

He opened his eyes and waited as he stared at the fireplace ahead of him. He held you in his arms. He brought his hand to his blood stained lips. He let a small whine as his claws grew. Bringing a claw to his lip he scratched his bottom lip. Dark blood ran down his chin to his bare chest. He brought his hand to your face. You’re already getting cold, it’s working. He lifted your face up as he stared down at you. 

“My beautiful love.” He said. 

He pressed his bloodily lips against yours. He kissed you. He sucked his bottom lips letting the blood pool in his mouth. He opened your mouth to let his blood drip into yours. Proud of his work, he finished it off with another kiss. Swirling his tongue with yours coating it with his blood. 

You knew you were dead. You had to be dead because why would you be standing in front of a chapel. You stood in front of the entrance, tall wooden doors were in front of you. You can see the crosses engraved in the wood. 

You've been here and seen these doors in your dreams before. Pushing the doors open you stood in awe at the chapel. It was different from the one in your dreams. Your eyes roam at the pews then at the walls it wasn’t decaying anymore, everything looked brand new. Magnificent biblical paintings hang from the walls. The clerestory windows near the paintings were lit up from the sunlight. You looked ahead and saw a man at the altar. He had his back towards you again but he wore silver armor, his helmet was by his feet along with his sword. 

You walked to the altar and stood next to the man. It was him, the stranger, the guy who fucked you and bit you. He had tears running down his face. He was dirty and bloody. He looked like he just had to come back from a battle. You saw him sob as he looked away from you then to the ground. You followed his graze and gasped. 

There you were on the floor of the chapel dead. The gown you wore was wet with blood. You saw him fall down on his knees and let out a scream. You look at him as he picks up your body and hugs your dead body. You cried out as a pain shot through your head. You knelt to the ground due to the pain. You shut your eyes tightly as memories came back to you. 

You were young when you met him, he was called Adam. Heir to a throne, you were his betrothed. You were happy with him until he had to leave for war against his rival. You killed yourself when you heard the news that Adam was not found when the war was over. He had died, everyone told you. Two weeks had passed and you couldn’t take the pain anymore but Adam came back, he was alive and survived. People told him you were spending your days in the chapel, praying for his soul. He had gone on a treacherous journey to stay alive and one back to you. He had to tell you right away that was alive. He had run into the chapel to find you. He found you on the ground with your throat slit open, knife still in your hand as you bled on the ground. The guards and the priest found him wailing over your dead body.

Adam desecrates the chapel and renounces God right then and there. He had prayed to God to keep you safe while he was making it back to you. He grew angry at God and made a deal with the devil to give him powers to avenge your death, to kill all those people that told you he was dead. He sold his soul for you but of course when making a deal with the devil it came with a price. He became a blood thirsting vampire.  

You laid your head on the ground of the chapel screaming as you remembered 200 years after your death he found you again. He found you in England. You were about to be wed, he couldn’t let that happen. He introduced himself as Phillip. He made you remember about your past life with him but he didn’t turn you in time. Your husband found both of you in bed. Furiously, he gathers a group of men to kill Phillip in the woods but before he could kill Phillip you jump in to save him. Once again you lay dead in front of him but in your final moments you beg him to find you again and make you remember no matter what. 

About 7 decades later he found you once more but in the states.  He found you in the southern states working in a diner. He introduced himself as Ben and to his surprise you fell in love with him without the need to remember. So he didn’t say anything about the past until he felt horrible for not telling you the truth. One way or another you were going to figure out his true self. So the following night, he was going to tell you the truth and ask if you wanted to be like him. 

He had asked you to come to his place. He wanted to pick you up from your house but you told him and you didn’t mind the drive. He waited but you never came, hours later he received a call from the hospital saying you were brought in. Ben rushed to the hospital and was told you got hit by a drunk driver. He cried when they took you to surgery. He was sitting in the waiting room waiting for the surgeon to come out. He stood up when he saw the surgeon enter the waiting room. He knew what had happened when the surgeon approached him with a face. He can hear the surgeon's heart pounding. He can smell your blood mixed with hibiclens soap. You had died on the operating table. They were unable to bring you back, you bled to death. He wanted to see your body. Ben had learned from others like him that he can transfer you even after death but it was the sound of crying that made him stop. He noticed your family walking into the waiting room and asking the nurse for you.

Ben stood a few feet away from the funeral, your family did for you. Ben couldn't do it, he couldn't take your body. He left the funeral as they placed your coffin on the ground. He kept walking away vowing that the next time he found you. He wasn't going to let you slip away from him. 

It took him a long time to find you again. Too long. He was growing restless every year. He traveled through states and countries for you. He couldn’t find you. 

He went back to his hometown where he had resided years ago. He was driving down the street one day, he stopped at the light and froze when he saw you crossing the street. He felt his chest was about to explode. There you were. You had a smile on your face as you talked on the phone while walking. You quickly walked across and began to walk through an alley. 

So he stalked you for a few weeks, found out where you lived, and where you worked. He often found himself standing in your room at night staring at you. He liked watching you sleep, the sound of your breathing and light snores. He would walk towards you and hold his hand out above your head. Manipulating your mind so you can dream about your past life. 

He would walk around in your apartment. He would touch everything you own. He would lay in your bed to smell your sheets. Pressing your pillow deep into his face. The first time he laid on your bed, he started to sob as he brought your comforter and sheets close to his face so he could smell you. He noticed you were catching on. You would look over your shoulder every now and then. He had to act fast. He didn’t know how long he could control himself. 

He stared at the fire as he held you in his arms. You are safely tucked under his chin. Hands touching your bare back. It’s been a while now, he kept touching you, holding you in his arms. He let out a toothy grin when he felt your body starting to move. 

He did it. He turned you. 

You opened your eyes, feeling so sore you gently pushed yourself up. Groaning when you subconsciously clenched around his cock. He bit back a moan as you opened your eyes while moving your hips. He stares at you as you let out a yawn and look around. You had dried blood on your mouth and chin. Your eyes are larger now, he can see the red ring around your pupils.  

“My love.” He calls out to you softly. His hands were on your hips as you looked around. You looked down at him, Kylo stared up at you with a smile. He was mesmerized by you, his eyes were wide as he stared up at you. You were about to speak when you let out a cough, you felt your throat dry. You were so thirsty. You shut your eyes when you felt him shift under you, the head of his cock was rested on your sweet spot. 

“Thirsty?” Kylo asked as his hands went up and down your body, he couldn't stop touching you. 

“Mmmm.” You moaned as you nodded, placing your hands on his chest moving your hips back and forward. 

“Come here.” Kylo said, grabbing your wrist to pull you down to his chest. You watched as the nail of his index finger grew into a claw. Kylo had dragged the claw over his chest. 

“Hurry.” He says, pushing your head to his chest. You knew what to do. You moaned as you licked his cut. Your hips swayed in happiness, licking up his blood. 

“Good.” He told you as you rose up from his chest. His cut was already healed, he brought one your hands to his lips kissing your knuckles then your palm. 

“I missed you. I couldn’t find you for so long.” You gave him a nod and leaned over to kiss him. You licked the dried blood from your lips. 

“It has been too long,” You mumbled against his lips. 

“What should I call you now?” You asked, pushing his locks of hair behind his ears. 

“It’s been Kylo for years now. Kinda got used to it.” He said kissing the side of your temple. 

“Kylo.” You repeated his name with a smile. He grinned when he saw your own fangs growing. 

[reylobonkaimegstieloshamir]

Okay but why is this song screaming Oshamir and Reylo and Bonkai 🔥🔥🔥

I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy, I wanna be a gangster 'Cause you could be the beauty and I could be the monster I love you since this morning, not just for aesthetic I wanna touch your body, so fucking electric I know you're scared of me, you say that I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears and that's fucking pathetic

I wanna make you hungry, then I wanna feed ya I wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa I wanna be a champion, I wanna be a loser I'll even be a clown 'cause I just wanna amuse ya I wanna be your sex toy, I wanna be your teacher I wanna be your sin, I wanna be your preacher I wanna make you love me, then I wanna leave ya 'Cause, baby, I'm your David and you're my Goliath

Because I'm the devil who's searching for redemption And I'm a lawyer who's searching for redemption And I'm a killer who's searching for redemption A motherfucking monster who's searching for redemption And I'm a bad guy who's searching for redemption And I'm a blonde girl who's searching for redemption And I'm a freak that is searching for redemption A motherfucking monster who's searching for redemption

[fandomrantsandtwittertakes]

[spock-in-awe]

Hey, so, I made up a term and wrote a whole thing. Hope you enjoy.

Inspired by the concept of liminal spaces, liminal space characters are narratively stuck, their subjectivity seemed rendered inert. They are resistant to transiting to the next phase, on the brink of possible transformation if only they could figure out the how of transforming. However, this arrested character growth is designed by skillful hands to be temporary, and the resulting arc of change is heightened by that seemingly fixed–and problematically so–starting place.

An inherent trope among these characters is a bridging multiple worlds, identities, or contexts. They inhabit an “in-between,” a space of discomfort, uncertainty, waiting, and denial (relating to the personal, the public, or reality itself). Narratively, there might be an impending change on their horizon that they work to avoid, sacrificing pieces of their own ethical system to reach that aim. They might be running from their past actions, straddling multiple spheres of existence, or haunted by what they’ve done but unable to face the consequences. Others might be so committed to completing a task bestowed upon them they barely assess whether they are capable of even doing so. In worse emotional places are those characters who complete the task set before them, only to realize it was a horrible mistake.

At the root is their relationship to subjectivity. Who directed their understanding of self? When did that occur? Was it purposefully manipulative or purely environmental? To move through the liminal space, they must define their own subjectivity, and take control of their own identities after being buffeted by expectation, lineage, or limited opportunities.

One of the most persuasive liminal space characters of the last ten years is Ben Solo, or Kylo Ren, in the Star Wars universe. He is born under incredibly traumatic circumstances, his lineage being a splinter of the light side and the dark. Impossibly high expectations are thrust upon him before he enters the world, so too is a sinister invasion intended to corrupt him in the womb. He is purposefully kept ignorant of his grandfather’s actions, deprived of an opportunity to come to terms with the damage wrought those decades prior. Ben’s parents don’t quite notice how calculating the dark side is, or avoid doing anything about this understanding, until they send him to his uncle’s Jedi Temple. Even under his Master-level uncle’s observation, Ben struggles to integrate everything that is seemingly at odds inside him; the pull to the light, the pressure of the dark. Consequently, he is left in a state of fractured identity, split between what is acceptable and unacceptable, unable to find his place in a galaxy ruled by strict binaries. This tension boils to the surface as rage, violence, hopelessness, and subservience to those he turns after his family members fail him.

Another excellent example is Spock in the Star Trek universe. He is born half human, half Vulcan, a duality that leads to lifelong struggles not only within himself, but in the galaxy, as well. While he must suppress his emotions through training and social expectation, his internal system of rationality is encouraged during his childhood on Vulcan. Despite his father’s choice to partner with a human woman, Sarek seems to resent Spock’s individuality. In Vulcan schools, Spock is bullied by his peers for that part of his identity of which he has no control. In a more recent iteration of Star Trek, it is revealed that Spock also has a form of dyslexia, setting him further apart from those he might otherwise find a connection with. He is a unique individual, someone whose adversities aren’t recognized by those he encounters–let alone seen and validated–and so he is left to find a balance within himself with little support. His world is also one of defined boundaries, clear parameters for acceptable behaviors. This path isn’t easy for him, especially when he seeks to relate to those he finds himself drawn to, or forced to spend time with. Depending on the era of Star Trek, he deflects the advances of those around him, or falls under the influence of an alien biologic, for example, wherein he is allowed to express emotions, and later confesses that being under the pollen’s influence was the only time he felt happy.

Both these examples share a commonality: they are pushed a certain direction in response to family obligation, social expectation, or environmental constraints. This can even go as far as childhood abuse or neglect that carries on through their lives. From the clay of their childhood experiences, the liminal space characters are taught it doesn’t matter what they want for themselves; they must accept and perform an identity according to what people around them dictate as acceptable. For Ben Solo, it is dutiful Padawan to his own detriment, while as Kylo Ren, he is a conflicted tool used by those he bows to. Spock defaults to appearing as a distanced and capable science officer, hiding any internal tumult he may experience. Both have suffered for their struggles and crave relief.

For some, there is a distinct lack of agency often assigned, something that happened at the start of their journey that was entirely out of their control. Ji-Ah, a liminal space creature from Lovecraft Country, is possessed by a spirit that wreaks havoc on those she encounters. She did not consent to the spirit’s arrival–her mother invited it in for reasons all her own–and the human Ji-Ah loses her identity in the process. What is intriguing about this arc is how the spirit is the one to change, not the negated human within. That person was lost, replaced by a spirit who transforms for the better.

San, from Princess Mononoke, was abandoned by her parents in the forest. She was discovered by the Wolf Clan, whose leader Moro takes the human child in as her own to raise entirely as if she were a wolf. As San grows up with deep hatred of humans, she must confront the truth of her existence; that she comes from them, was abandoned by them, and now commits her life to stopping their destruction of the natural world. Her transition through the liminal looks similar to her starting place, living as a wolf, yet her internal conflict finds resolution through connecting with a human man she can trust.

To achieve their goals (which are usually not intrinsically motivated but outwardly so), they may suppress their innate tendencies. These often include compassion, empathy, tenderness, or caretaking. This leads to immense conflict, both externally as they aim to reach certain objectives, or internally as they combat or try to eliminate this intense intrinsic struggle. This conflict may cause violent behaviors, mental instability, or emotional chaos. When these characters are coded as “villains,” they often cause intense harm to others and themselves. They do this usually out of desperation to survive, to fit in, or perhaps to avoid perceived judgement. Depending on the narrative, they are given an opportunity to make amends for this harm. But usually in western media, they are not redeemed, let alone offered the chance to atone for the damage they inflicted while they struggled to actualize as their true selves.

The heroic versions, of which the Star Trek universe has many, benefit from extra layers of character depth, which offers an arc that builds effectively over several seasons. Whether it is an android who observes humans around himself and wishes to emulate their mannerisms, or a previous human-machine hybrid forced to sever herself from the greater machine organism, these characters depend on the external to define their identities. It takes much longer for them to find that truth within themselves.

Other characters fall into a middle ground between villain and hero coding. One such example is Ed Teach, or Blackbeard, in Our Flag Means Death. He inhabits the world as a fulfillment of his own stereotypes and exaggerations. He claims to care about little and presents a bravado to match the fearsome illustrations in history books. But eventually we see his immense dissatisfaction with the role he has been performing. His liminal space, similar to the rest, is that of moving away from this project front toward authenticity.

Joel Miller, a character originated in the Last of us video game and portrayed in a streaming show of the same name, begins as a regular man. He has a daughter, a brother, a job. It is only because of horrifying circumstances that he is forced to transform. He makes himself cold, violent, and ruthless. There can be no remainder of his previous self. Until he encounters someone to protect, and protect, he does, much to his own aggravation. His circumstances are some of the most dramatic across narratives, and how he integrates, or fails to integrate, his warring selves has fascinated audiences for over a decade.

Neither of these previous two examples have conclusions in their streaming narratives at this point. Both are left on the cliffhanger of violence, of rejection of social expectation around them. Both revert to a previous state of being, but in different ways: Ed to his Blackbeard persona, Joel to his protective father role. Whatever results from these decisions (however conscious or reactionary they are), is inconsequential. And therefore, potentially read as villainous once more, buckling under the pain of the past and fear of that suffering’s return.

The character Spike in Buffy the Vampire Slayer willingly suffers for his previous actions. Over time, he begins to recognize what he has done, takes action to make amends, and fights for his redemption. Though by the closure of the show he is deprived of what he most craves–connection–his final actions are entirely the opposite of his original ones. He countered the vampire tendencies within himself, found wholeness, and dedicated himself to a goal that was selfless.

As Spike was for some time, these characters can be confused about where they belong and crave that understanding and connection. There is a deep ache to be understood, though few of them acknowledge this desire. In fact, many go out of their way to deny it, to pretend otherwise. 

The character of Nimona, originating in the graphic novel of the same name, traverses the murky landscape of being a shape shifter. She camouflages her deep interest in finding a companion by presenting herself as a “sidekick,” someone for the villain mastermind to rely on and trust. She is uncertain of herself, carrying the wounds of centuries past, convincing herself that violence and domination are paramount. When she bonds with her new friend in unexpected ways, her deeper needs rise to the surface. But these are frightening. It is only when she is shown radical acceptance and safety does she integrate her various parts at the end of the story.

Killian Jones in Once Upon a Time jostles between presenting his desires in a joking manner, and hiding them beneath layers of anger. He is bound by revenge and denies anything in conflict with that goal. His swagger is an exaggeration, a front or projection, which is a common detail across these stories. If he claims to be a heartless villain, no one will discover just how victimized he once was.

These characters may herald chaos or drama within the narrative, amusement or disquiet for the audience. A character like Draco Malfoy in the Harry Potter series is written from the outset as a direct–if youthful–antagonist. Yet later in the story, insight into his wounded mental and emotional state arrives, eliciting the reader’s compassion. He was inculcated in an environment of bigotry and toxic superiority, of which he must decide personally to move beyond. 

Liminal space characters can appear unique in their behaviors and presentations when compared to those around them. Perhaps this is because of a heightened defensiveness, or anxiety, or refusal to engage with typical romantic situations. 

For those who are deliberately off-putting and aggressive, sarcastic and aloof, or extremely isolated by design, the audience must confront their own biases, as well. When the narrative is effective, we as consumers may empathize with these struggling individuals. We may understand why they have taken the steps they have, protected themselves, lashed out at others. 

What I love most about liminal space characters is the potential for them to heal the dueling perspectives within themselves. These characters at some point must question themselves, and when done successfully, the audience does the same: How capable are we of forming our sense of self? What does harm look like? How do we live with our mistakes? How do we shape ourselves? Is it possible to make a new choice after a long pattern of harmful behaviors? Where does this character go after discovering they have wronged so many? When is that redemptive effort enough?

Both the characters questioning themselves, and not questioning themselves (ie following external demands), may lead to feelings of loneliness and rejection. Prince Zuko of Avatar the Last Airbender rotates entirely around his father’s acceptance, and whatever he must do in order to receive it, he will. There is no cost too high, and he questions nothing. Until he stumbles into a bond with a supposed adversary, which begins to shift his perspective. This is a common trope within these stories, as well, the mirror opposite coming into sharp relief by comparison.

Frustratingly, there are far more male-presenting liminal space characters than female ones in the duality of Western media, so the “adversary” is often portrayed as female (I’m optimistic this will change as more diverse writers share their stories). In a compulsory heterosexual context, there is potential for romance, as well. This is perceived in the canon text and also by fans through their own stories. An opposing character–such as Kitara in Avatar the Last Airbender, Rey in the last Star Wars trilogy, or Captain Kirk in Star Trek–may help these liminal space characters realize they are not a lost soul, no longer a victim to their circumstances. They can offer an opposing viewpoint: what if you took a different path? You’re not required to stay this way. It’s never too late.

Hope gives the liminal space characters the sense they can make new choices and change. Hope is the kernel, the light slanting through clouds, the assurance nothing is permanent, not even a limbo state of the mind.

[sweetrevxnge]

Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Five

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Summary: Six long years had passed under the reign of the First Order. The bitter winters grew longer, and as they did, hope faded from the hearts of the citizens of Hosnian Prime. As a lieutenant in the Resistance cavalry, it was your duty to nurture that ember of hope. After a mission takes an unexpected turn, you are taken prisoner by a commander in the First Order, a mysterious man with an insatiable appetite—for violence, power, and you. In the coming days, you must keep the spark of your own hope alive from the dark confines of the Commander's castle.

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Next Chapter

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3k

Chapter-specific CW: compulsion, light emotional manipulation (but it's ok bc he's a hot vampire)

A/N: "how am I supposed to live laugh love under these conditions?" -y/n to kylo probably

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“After you, my dear.”

The threshold of the doorway was all that stood between you and the prospect of freedom. Or at least, so you thought.

Moonlight peaked through the dark clouds above, flooding the spacious courtyard Ren had brought you to with silver light. Disappointment sank through you like a stone—not that you were expecting him to loosen your invisible lead enough to allow you to roam an open area of the castle’s property. All things considered, this was generous.

Tentatively, you stepped out into the night, disregarding your lack of footwear as you followed the ivory tiles lining the path. Short, frostbitten hedges surrounded you, perfectly manicured despite their leaves being brittle and sparse. Snowflakes dusted the earth, falling like tiny, frozen kisses on your skin.

Woven throughout the foliage were dozens of rosebushes, their thorns now all that remained of their beauty. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the garden in bloom, with rays of sunlight bathing the roses until their petals unfurled, inviting bees to collect pollen from each colorful bundle. But spring had long since passed. The stems had morphed into skeletons, their wilted petals cracking under the blanket of frost. It was oddly beautiful; something that was once so vibrant, now faded and cold, preserved by winter’s embrace.

Around you stood the high walls of the castle, with elegant archways and stained windows. Everything felt venerable, even down to the footsteps immortalized in the tile from centuries of tread, aging the fortress well beyond the Empire’s rule. Judging by the weathered state of the walls encasing you, the castle was likely constructed during the Grand Republic’s reign, dating it beyond the past three hundred years. To think that there was a time when its halls had been occupied by diplomats—ones who placed the interests of the people above their own aspirations. Much like the garden, their memory had faded in the presence of the First Order.

You stopped in front of two black iron benches arranged in the center of the court. They accented the focal piece of the garden: a pond, sheathed by a layer of glistening ice. You pictured a family of ducks paddling through it in the summer, creating tiny ripples as they splashed the cool water onto their feathers. The irony of peace existing in a place of such violence.

“What do you think?” Ren asked behind you, joining you in observation of the frozen water.

Releasing a long breath, you answered bluntly, “It’s hard to say. Everything’s dead.”

He chuckled at your honesty. “Yes. But even now, there is a certain beauty to it, wouldn’t you agree?” He stepped closer, pressing his chest flush against your back, offering you no heat. There was nothing warm or soft about him. For all you knew, he was made of marble beneath the layer of black fabric—his body temperature suggesting as much.

You instinctively pulled away, turning to face him. Quick breaths passed through your lips, the wisps of vapor lingering in the air like ghosts. Ren was frightening and beautiful, making him the most dangerous kind of monster. Not the kind that mothers warned their children of through tales, hoping to deter them from venturing too far into the woods, but the kind that the ladies at court would gossip about. The handsome devil.

“From a certain point of view, I suppose,” you finally said, turning your back on him once again. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing—even if he had heard your inner dialogue earlier.

Ren walked alongside you as you continued to meander through the garden. Even the slightest brush of his arm made the hair on the back of your neck stand. Although, in fairness, the culprit could very well have been the winter air, too.

You considered making conversation with him, less because you were interested in what he had to say, but rather as a pleasantry in return for the change of scenery. When you opened your mouth to speak, you found that the words were lodged in your throat, impossible to push out. Perhaps it was the icy air burning your airway, or another force entirely. Regardless, you continued to walk in silence, sorting through your thoughts—as you suspected he was, too.

It seemed as if the tile path had transformed into shards of glass by the way your feet ached, each step sending a wave of pain through your nerves. Determined to stay outside as long as possible, you ignored it, slowing your pace to accommodate.

“You’re shivering,” Ren stated, as if you were somehow unaware of your chattering teeth.

“Yes, I know.”

“Would you like to go inside?”

You froze in place, but unlike in the forest, this was not his doing. He came to stand in front of you, tracing your face with eyes as black as obsidian.

“I doubt that decision is mine to make,” you countered. The illusion of free will—as if you weren’t trapped in this castle because of him.

“You would be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, yes, how could I forget? The man who slaughtered my entire squadron—my savior.”

His jaw tensed. “It’s not as if I was acting of my volition. I was merely protecting my men, keeping my oath. Surely that is something you can understand.”

Of course it was. But you had failed to do that, and now you would spend a lifetime being haunted by it.

“Enough,” you said, tearing your eyes away from him as you turned to face the withering garden. The frayed threads holding you together snapped, allowing the flood of emotions to pour in. As it did, you wondered if it would always be like this. Reminded of the carnage every time you laid eyes on him. Sentenced to a miserable existence with the man responsible for your nightmares.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder. You shuddered at the touch. “For what it’s worth, their deaths were wholly unnecessary.” There was a trace of remorse in his words, quickly replaced by his usual tone. “But such is the nature of war, my dear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your tongue before you could say anything else. When you opened them again, Ren was standing in front of you, close enough to hide the moonlight behind him. 

“Why did you do it?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, fighting desperately to hold back your frustration.

He furrowed his brows, confused by your question. “The Supreme Leader’s orders were clear–”

“No,” you snapped, a harsh edge replacing the weakness in your voice. “I mean, why did you capture me? How is it fair that I should be the only survivor, condemned to live out the rest of my days under your thumb?”

As soon as the words had left your mouth, you wished you could reach out and shove them back into the depths of your mind. He didn’t deserve to see you like this, brimming with raw emotion. It was a state you reserved only for those closest to you, those who you would likely never see again.

Ren was silent, stoic. In a moment like this, you wished you possessed his ability to probe minds. Instead of offering you an answer, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone and jaw, tracing a line as light as a whisper over your skin.

Immediately, the tension in your shoulders dissolved, washed away along with every concern occupying your mind. Despite his cool touch, warmth rose to your cheeks.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that this arrangement could liberate you in ways you’ve never imagined?” His voice was silky, falling on your ears like a symphony of angels. A soft cloud settled over you, eliciting a strange feeling within your chest as you gazed up at him, searching his black eyes for an answer to his question.

“I have not, my lord,” you whispered, the words leaving your tongue like a prayer.

Ren’s lips parted, revealing brilliant white teeth as he grinned, amused by your response. “Of course not. And why should you have? Such thoughts have no place in a mind as troubled as yours.” He swept his fingers over your cheek again, soothing you.

You nodded into his hand. The cold that gnawed at your fingers and toes was nothing more than a distant sensation, an ache quelled by his touch. He glanced down at your figure, frowning at the sight of your dress. In the time that the two of you had been standing outside, a light layer of snow had melted into the thin fabric of your gown, clinging to your skin. With deft fingers, he tied the strings of your cloak into a small knot and smoothed the fabric over your shoulders.

“Now, let’s go inside. I can’t have my bride freezing to death,” he said in a low tone, leaning closer to your lips. “Next time, I advise you to wear more fitting attire.”

Next time. Intoxicated by his words, you nodded in agreement, your eyes still fixed on his.

As if you were a sack of feathers, he hoisted you off the ground, holding you as he did in the forest. Only this time, there was no fear in your heart, no panic closing off your throat. With your hands clasped behind his neck, he carried you back into the castle, moving swiftly through the courtyard. Although the taste of freedom was dwindling with every step he took, you were content—almost pleased—to be returning to the safety of your chambers.

Your head felt as light as the cushions of the chaise lounge as Ren set you down upon it. The memory of where his hands had gripped you remained after he released you, leaving your skin tingling at each spot. In the darkness, it was nearly impossible to see him moving through your chambers, an issue remedied by a fire roaring to life in the hearth.

Satisfied with his work, Ren stood behind the sofa, peering down at you laying across it. Golden flames flickered in his eyes, softening his strong features. Your cloak had shifted, exposing more of your nightwear than you would’ve preferred. But you didn’t mind. In fact, you liked it—how the sleeves had fallen past your shoulders and the hem of the dress had gathered above your knees. You felt ethereal, basking in the glow radiating from the hearth. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this relaxed.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you relished the warmth spreading through your toes. “Who should I thank for starting this fire—you or your magic?” You made a vague gesture with your hands, wiggling your fingers as if you were casting a spell.

He chuckled quietly, moving to sit in the chair across from yours. “Neither. Thank the tinderbox that was left on the mantle.”

Propping yourself up with your elbow, you turned to face him, letting your dress drape over your hips. The knot at your neck loosened with every movement you made until you finally grew tired and pulled it free, shedding your cloak onto the sofa. Under any other circumstance, you would be scrambling to cover yourself. This was completely unlike you—to allow anyone other than your handmaid to see you like this. Harlot, your mother would say in her scolding tone, coupled with a scowl. But she wasn’t here—only Commander Ren.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re incapable of starting a fire, given everything else you can do.”

“Unfortunately, I was never any good at it,” he said, his eyes wandering to the golden flames. “Pyromancy, however, has always been one of my strongest suits.”

The conversation stalled for a moment as you watched his fingers glide over the armrest, hypnotized by the patterns he traced in the black velvet. His veins mingled with tendons as he moved—an intricate dance beneath his ivory skin. Somewhere deep within you, an ember flickered to life, its warmth spreading throughout your being. It was unusual, but not unwelcome.

“How can you do these things?” you asked, your voice floating through the air like the wisps of a dandelion.

He sighed, rolling his tongue over his teeth in thought. Finally, he said, “I was raised by witches.”

Your eyes widened—not in shock at his answer, but because he had answered at all. Rey’s words echoed in your mind. Commander Ren is a very private man.

“Witches? As in, multiple?”

He snickered softly. “Just two.”

“I see,” you whispered, watching him intently. There was something inherently alluring about him, an appeal that had drawn you in the instant you laid eyes on his portrait. An indescribable—yet persisting—quality. A charm.

After the success of your first question, you found the courage to pose another. “What were they like?”

A beat passed before he spoke, unease filling your stomach as you waited. The look in his eyes told you that your valiant effort was in vain. “What else did the handmaid tell you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his seat.

His words hit your chest like a thousand stones, shattering your confidence. Rey had warned you—begged you—to not discuss the matter of the Commander, fearing the consequences awaiting her if she did. Guilt crashed into you.

“Nothing. She said nothing else,” you stammered, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. With pleading eyes, you turned to him. “I swear it by all the gods.”

Ren stood to his feet, shushing you as he strode toward you. “There’s no need to call upon the gods, dear. I believe you.” His long fingers caressed your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. “I also believe that the girl is sensible enough to want to keep her head attached to her body. You asked her about me, didn’t you?”

Your heart slammed into your ribs, as if it were attempting to leap out and crawl into Ren’s hands. There was no use in arguing—he already knew the truth. The outcome of your fate depended on any ounce of respect you could earn from him. Lying now would be a disservice to everyone involved.

“Yes, I admit, I asked her to tell me what she knew of you, but she refused. It was only after I continued pressing the matter that she finally answered. Please, have mercy on her, she is innocent–”

He silenced you by pressing a finger against your lips. “If I beheaded every servant who spoke ill of me, the castle would be swept by ghosts.”

You said nothing, an unspoken understanding passing between you. While you believed him, there was also validity in Rey’s fear. Even the servant boy cowered in his presence. If one thing were true in this life, it was that rumors carried weight, and at times, merit.

“Why do they fear you so much?” you asked as his thumb brushed over your chin.

Ren let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers down your neck, pausing at your pulse point. “People fear what they do not understand.”

The air grew thick in the silence. A familiar sensation embraced you, igniting every fiber of your being under his touch. Much like the fire in front of you, the ember in your belly became an inferno. Your gaze fell to his pillowy lips, imagining what they would feel like against yours—what they would feel like on every inch of your skin. As soft as sin, probably. His eyes were coals, twinkling in the amber light, a tell that your thoughts were not as quiet as you had hoped.

“What do you fear most, darling?” he asked, his voice low and inviting. “I imagine that a woman like yourself doesn’t fear much, but everyone has their weakness.” He tilted your head slightly to the side, eyes wandering down your neck. “What is yours?”

Blood rushed in your ears, making you dizzy. Through the haze in your mind, a tiny voice broke through, begging you to resist him—resist the urge to bend to his will. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to barricade your thoughts, and as his eyes bore into yours, irises now a deep shade of red, his devilry won.

“Purpose.” The word passed through your lips like a specter, carrying a cadence that was foreign to your ears. “I fear a life without purpose.”

Satisfaction radiated off of Ren. “I see. And that is exactly why you were the only survivor.” He stretched his hand over your throat, applying gentle pressure to either side of your neck. The rhythmic drumming of your heart pulsed through his fingertips. “Because your purpose is so much greater than serving the Resistance.”

“What do you believe my purpose is, Commander?”

The backlight of the hearth cast a halo around him, deifying him. Ignoring your inquiry, he said, “The night is almost over. I suggest you get some rest.”

With that, he left you, somehow more cold and alone than you had been before. As the latch clicked shut, the haze lifted, quickly replaced by dread. Your vision tunneled on the fire in front of you, the black edges snuffing out your surroundings, narrowing your view to only the flames dancing over the logs.

As you stood from the lounge, your knees buckled, forcing you to summon all your strength to reach the bed before collapsing. Chest heaving, you stared up at the canopy, hoping to find anything but flecks of light dancing across your eyes. The voice in your head was shouting now, building to a deafening pitch, its message clear.

In the wake of his presence, two things remained: your distrust of Commander Ren and the strange warmth that had settled in your stomach.

[everren]

To Search the Ends of Time

A Vampire Reylo AU by @everren & @ev3rmichelle

Rated E | Alternating POV | Ch 5/14

The history books remember the papacy of Snoke - the so-called Occult Pope - as a reign of terror. Kylo Ren is only interested in what came before.

For four hundred years, he has stalked the world, searching for the ancient alchemy once wielded by Snoke to defy death and bind him to the earth in an eternity of bloodshed. With it, he will take back what was stolen from him.

But when a new lead takes him to the most unexpected of places, he is forced to confront the possibility that not all is as it seems.

Perhaps the past is not as cold and dead as he thought. Perhaps no one is ever really gone.

A Dracula-inspired Reylo AU, set in an alternate version of our world, in which love can span centuries and blood can conquer death.

POV GUIDE

'Still Falls the Night' - Kylo - Odd chapters

'Still Falls the Rain' - Rey - Even chapters

CHAPTER INDEX

The Professor

The Scholar

The Museum

The Past

The Palazzo - 🩸 NEW CHAPTER! 🩸

The End - Coming soon!

The Climax - Coming soon!

The Beginning - Coming soon!

The Hunt - Coming soon!

The Thrill - Coming soon!

The Kill - Coming soon!

The Darkness - Coming soon!

The Light - Coming soon!

The One - Coming soon!

[andrinanightshade1]

Scholarly Pursuits

(E, 2 chapters, 11K words)

"In the gloom of the library, at some ungodly hour when only demons and insomniacs frequent, Rey first caught the scent of him."

Ben Solo spends the midnight hours in the University Library, ignorant of the dark maiden who hungers after him...

Content warnings: Blood, death, smut, stalking

Read it on AO3