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Castiel ([personal profile] freetobe) wrote2019-05-17 12:54 am
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otrazhenie: (n130)

11.30 hours after waking up

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-12-03 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The hunger threatened to consume her the moment she woke, but Elena held it together as best she could. Clearly, something had happened while she'd been trapped in the sunlit Beacon that wasn't here. A dream, a prison, where only a few of them had been for... too long. Far too long by the smell of it.

Leaving the little house she shared with Jon, she'd been overwhelmed by the smell of blood on the air. Old blood and new, scents she knew and didn't, all of it sang to her hunger, pulling at her instinct to feed on the first person she saw. But she didn't. She held it together long enough to find Jon, to get him home, to make sure he was okay

And then she'd disappeared. Running as fast as she could to the beach, knowing the forest was as safe as being around people right now, and she'd fallen to the sand, digging her hands in and wishing the rest of her could follow.

What am I going to do? It feels like hours pass as she sits there in the cold, a wind from off the water biting into her aching body. Her skin feels like paper, far too pale and beginning to show the veins beneath. Her bones scraped against each other, exhaustion warring with hunger, and with each second she can feel it creeping closer. Desiccation.

Help me. Please. Someone, please help... She needs to feed but she's so scared. She'll take too much, she'll kill someone, and even if they come back, how could anyone here trust her again? They'll be afraid of her, see her as a monster — and she won't blame them for it.

Please, help me. ]

Edited 2019-12-03 15:51 (UTC)
otrazhenie: (n121)

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-12-03 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Feathers and air, quiet rushes that cut through cold night air and into the echo of gentle waves. It's soft, like feathers themselves should be, but it's discordant in her mind where she hears only the constant flow of blood in veins.

Physically flinching away from him, Elena looks up with wide, frightened eyes, shaking her head as she moves further back. ]


Castiel. You— you shouldn't be here. I don't want to hurt you.

[ But she does, the predator in her insisting on it in a way that she almost can't resist. If he'd have fresh blood on him when he arrived, she'd be feeding on him right that second, and it's that knowledge that terrifies her. She's never wanted to be a monster, has struggled every day to retain what made her human, and losing control for even one moment will break her completely. ]

Please, you have to go.
otrazhenie: (185)

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-12-03 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She knows he means well with that attempt at reassurance, but she's seen what a vampire out of control can do. Even as young as she is, as weak when compared to Kol and the other Originals, she could do irreparable damage to him before he'd be able to stop her, and she couldn't live with that. The memories of the deaths she'd caused with her own hands still haunt her and she can't bear to add more to them.

But... maybe he really could help. Somehow. A tiny spark of hope curls into being within her and she goes still, watching him for a long moment as her fingers again dig into the sand. Every grain of sand is felt against her skin and she focuses on the sensation, trying to count each one in an attempt to overcome her instincts. Her need. ]


I need to feed. I need blood.

[ And she hates the way it sounds. Like an animal. Like a monster. ]
otrazhenie: (n138)

[personal profile] otrazhenie 2019-12-04 05:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ He doesn't have to explain for her to recognize that she is being both weighed and judged. She can feel it in the weight of his gaze, the way he seemed to look into her very soul. And... well, he is an angel. That's probably something he can actually do. There's no hiding from it if it is, and no point in trying — she's always been simply who she is, and if that now includes something monstrous...

But then. But then.

He leaves so quickly after saying that words that she's barely able to process them. If he'd taken an hour in his departure, she might have still been processing what he said. He's... helping her? And offering to take her down if that's what it comes to. As strange as it might be to absolutely anyone else, Elena appreciates that more than she could ever say.

So pray she does, as hard as she can, harder than she ever has before because it's the only thing keeping her rooted to that spot on the ground. One slip and she'll go running to the town, to all those heartbeats. And then he's back and a bowl is in her hands, a knife in his.

He's really doing this. She stares up at him in disbelief and hope, some part of her still so afraid — that she'll hurt him, that he'll take away this precious offer. ]


Thank you.

[ They're the only words she can say. And when the blood begins to spill, it takes more control than she'd known she had to stay perfectly still, barely even breathing as the veins darken beneath her eyes and she watches the bowl slowly fill. So slowly. ]

Stop.

[ It's not enough, barely half the bowl when she could drain him dry and still not be satisfied, but her control is slipping and she needs him to stop so she can drink. ]