So, like, no reviews here yet. But I have some on dA, so it's all good, I guess. :/

My Heart Has a Light

"My personality isn't always apparent

'Full of mystery,' they say, and get scared."


Unrequited love was almost as painful as losing Arthur. Alfred had accepted Arthur's new love, and the three traveled Europe, learning of vampyric history.

Wang Yao and Ivan Braginski were notoriously famous, Alfred learned, for their creation of the bond. The bond was sacred; it melded two vampyre souls into one. The vow was intimate and unbreakable, save the exception of Roderich Edelstein and Elizaveta Hédérváry. Many vampyres were already bonded by 1810: Ivan and Yao, Sadiq and Heracles, Toris and Feliks, Roderich and Gilbert, Arthur and Françoise, Tino and Bianca. Alfred wanted the same. He wanted that feeling of being with another vampyre, much like what he used to have with Arthur.

Alfred sighed, burying his face in his hands in the guest room in Ivan and Yao's mansion in Moscow. Everything was so confusing.

That nose… it was so rigid and perfect. And that amazing large frame and soft platinum hair. Not to mention those piercing, all-knowing violet eyes that seemed to just glance at Alfred and suddenly know everything about him. He was so mysterious, so great and powerful.

And he was taken.

There was a knock, interrupting Alfred's thoughts. "Yes?" he asked, suspicious of whom it was.

Arthur entered, a knowing look on his face. "You have such bad luck with men," he said, getting straight to the point, "and such good luck with women. Why try when you know what will inevitably happen?"

Alfred stood, frowning. "He doesn't have to find out." He pouted. "What he doesn't know won't kill him, and I'll get over it soon enough." He approached Arthur, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You know me so well it's scary."

"Of course," Arthur chuckled. "I may be Françoise's bondmate, but I've known you far longer, and you hold a special place within me. I'll always love you, you know."

"Then why did you leave me?" asked Alfred, his eyebrows creasing in worry. "I know it wasn't just the war." He'd never asked why Arthur left him. He silently learned to accept Arthur's decision and was truly happy for him, but he did have a right to know.

Arthur sighed, taking Alfred's face in his hands. "When you said I was your everything, I found it shockingly true. I taught you everything. I took everything from you, Alfred, and after a century, I knew you couldn't truly experience vampyre life with me glamorizing everything to perfection for you. You needed to test your powers on your own." He sighed, and he innocently kissed Alfred on his forehead. "I never told you this, but Françoise was the one that turned me from human to vampyre. When I returned to Southampton, it was the first time I'd seen her in eight hundred years."

"Why didn't you tell me about her before?" Alfred inquired, shocked to be hearing this for the first time.

"Naturally, I never thought I'd see her again. I didn't think I'd have to mention her. The sad thing was, I left her first. She was looking for a miserable soul, and that was me. Unfortunately, I wasn't miserable after my transformation, and I explored what I could do until I settled with you after the Mayflower," Arthur explained.

"But how did you—"

"Arthur!" a light, heavily French-accented voice called. "Mon cher, where are you?"

"Coming, darling!" Arthur called back, his hands dropping to his slacks, wiping on the fabric as if touching Alfred were unholy now. "Look, Alfred," he said. "Long story short, had it not been for her, that five year gap would have merely been a pause in an ongoing relationship. And, truth be told, I'm glad I ran into her again. Alfred, you need to experience love for its heartbreaks and happiness. If we were still together, you wouldn't know what it would be like to leave someone… and truly leave them forever. You need to experiment. Just… whatever you do, don't tell Ivan how you feel. It will only end in utter disaster, I assure you."

"I wasn't planning on it," said Alfred firmly. And he really wasn't. He respected Yao, the first vampyre after Dracula, who had seen so much in his eternal life. Yao had lost one love before, Alfred was told, and no way would Alfred want to steal Yao's bondmate. But it was nice to dream and fantasize.

"Well…" Arthur smiled, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. "Don't do anything you'll regret." He left abruptly, looking for Françoise.

By four in the morning, Alfred was quite tired, and ready to rest the day now that the heavy curtains were drawn. He examined his face in the mirror; he was much healthier looking now that he had fed. Pity, she was extremely cute, too. But everyone had to die, and Alfred had brought her there peacefully. Color was brought back into his cheeks, and his hair looked less stringy and softer. His eyes were deep and mysterious behind Matthew's glasses, and his smile could dazzle any being.

Still, he wasn't as beautiful as Ivan. Ivan always looked amazing, even when he was hungry. Those violet eyes retained their intimidating intensity, and his pale skin was always clear and perfect.

He's with Yao, he's with Yao, he's with Yao, Alfred kept reminding himself, taking off Matthew's glasses for the imminent day. Unrequited love was so complicated.

There was a soft knock. "Come in," Alfred said, straightening his shirt.

Of course, who should step in but Ivan? "The room is to your liking, da?" he asked, a pleasant smile on his face. "I never had the opportunity to ask." That accent. It was so Russian and silky.

"It's great," Alfred deadpanned, trying not to show his true feelings. "I have a lovely view of the… garden." What was behind that curtain? Alfred had glanced through the window and saw nothing but a lone tree, a fence, and snow. Always snow.

"It blooms beautifully in the spring," said Ivan. Alfred wasn't sure what "it" was. "You know…" Ivan approached Alfred with his supernatural speed. "You have gotten much paler since your arrival in Moscow. Da… you are much more beautiful this way, dorogoy."

Alfred blushed uncontrollably. Didn't "dorogoy" mean "dear" in Russian? Was he… flirting? "Thank you." Alfred averted his eyes from Ivan's at all costs.

Ivan pursed his lips, pondering. Alfred still kept his gaze away. Did Ivan always wear that scarf? Alfred distinctly remembered Ivan wearing it every day since his arrival.

"You are flushing, Alfred," said Ivan observantly. Shit. "You do not have a fever, do you?" He placed a hand underneath Alfred's bangs, feeling his forehead.

"N-no, I—" Alfred felt a weird sensation in his mind. Like something were invading him mentally. It couldn't have been Ivan… could it?

Ivan quickly pulled his hand away, that smile still present on his face. "Nyet, I was wrong." He walked toward the door slowly. "Have a nice sleep, dorogoy."

With a skeptical look, Alfred dressed for bed, wanting to forget this weird encounter as soon as possible.


"Dorogoy…" It was a faint whisper, calling Alfred awake.

"Wha—" Alfred's eyes shot open, his vision hazed with sleep. Ivan hovered above him, his violet eyes ever observant. "Ivan?"

Instead of saying anything, Ivan pressed his lips to Alfred's. Alfred took in his musky scent, the way their lips moved together, everything. Something this vivid could not be a dream.

"Vanya…" Ivan whispered, his lips moving to Alfred's jaw line. "I want to hear it tumble from your lips."

"Wh-what about Yao?" This was happening way too fast.

"Who?" Ivan's large, callused hands ran down Alfred's clothed torso, sending shivers toward Alfred's nether regions. So real. This just couldn't be a dream! But there was something telling Alfred that it might be.

"Your bondmate," Alfred clarified, frowning. "The love of your… afterlife?"

Ivan laughed, the same light, church bell laugh Arthur had… only Ivan's was far more sinister. "Alfred..." he called teasingly, his hands pulling Alfred's nightclothes up. Up until now, Alfred didn't realize Ivan was only wearing his trademark scarf. "There is only you. Just like to you, there is only me."

Alfred blushed furiously, embarrassed by Ivan's lack of clothing, the way Ivan was touching him oh-so perfectly, and Ivan's words. This. Could. Not. Be. Happening. He tried pinching himself, but nothing happened. Damn. Then why did he feel so out of place?

"React," Ivan growled, his lips ghosting over Alfred's neck. "Give in. Don't question it and feel."

"I-I…" Ivan's lips upon Alfred's again made his mind blank. Yes. Give in. Like the first time with Arthur. So easy…

He tried to let his mind go, not trying to think about how wrong this was. When Ivan kissed him, Alfred complied. When Ivan's lips sucked on his neck, Alfred let out lust-filled moans. But Ivan was too much like Arthur. The way he kissed Alfred, the way he moved… Alfred knew if he closed his eyes he could picture Arthur right over his body. Maybe he could pretend it was Arthur; maybe that would help him deal with this strange situation.

Ivan's cold hands undressed Alfred quickly, feeling the warm skin underneath. All the while Alfred let go, kissing and responding like he was told to do. Bare skin made contact, and Alfred was shocked by how real it all was. Maybe this wasn't a dream. Maybe this was real, and Ivan really was ravishing him.

Alfred gasped as those torturing lips moved down his torso, kissing anywhere and everywhere. Those hands were making him forget everything, and the soft ends of the scarf tickled Alfred's sides. Ivan reached for something on the wooden nightstand, but Alfred could not tell what it was with his hazed mind.

"Spread your legs," Ivan commanded, his lips moving back up to Alfred's neck. Alfred complied, knowing this was the only way he could find release. Ivan's cold fingers probed his entrance, slick with some sort of lubricant. Alfred hissed, not used to the sensation. He hadn't been with a man in about thirty-five years, and it was almost new again.

A second finger was added, and Ivan began to scissor Alfred's insides, making the younger vampyre wince in slight pain. Ivan kissed all his fears away tenderly, reassuringly, and Alfred relaxed a bit, picturing Arthur doing this. Yes. Arthur, with his piercing green eyes and lithe body. Because with Arthur, Alfred felt safe, at peace. Not with Ivan. Ivan was bonded, and whenever Alfred pictured his first love, it was the Arthur that did not leave him. The one that loved Alfred as a partner, as someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

"Looks at me," Ivan growled, sounding hurt. "I told you to let go, yet you are holding back, Alfred."

"I-I'm sorry," Alfred whimpered, meeting Ivan's intimidating, violet eyes. "It's so hard to forget…"

Ivan gave Alfred that crooked smile again. "Then maybe I can help, da?"

Alfred nodded tentatively, and prepared for the pain.

That was most definitely not Arthur. Alfred let out a hoarse scream, wondering why it seemed as if no one else could hear them. Maybe everyone else was out…? Alfred could not think; he whimpered as Ivan buried himself completely inside.

"Ah… fuck," Alfred hissed through clenched teeth, trying to adjust to Ivan's size. How could he possibly picture Arthur when Ivan was so damn large?

Give in, give in.

Yes. So easy. Let go and feel. Succumb.

Alfred brought his hands to Ivan's face and kissed him deeply. "Please move… Vanya," he whispered, beginning to truly lose himself.

Ivan smirked again, knowing he had Alfred right where he wanted him. "See, dorogoy? See how easy it is to give in to your emotions? It is in our nature as vampyres." He thrust slowly, eliciting wanting moans from Alfred.

Alfred blanked his mind, letting the lust take over. He focused on how Ivan was moving, how he was making Alfred feel, how he clutched at Ivan's pale back, wanting more. It was delicious and wonderful, but somewhere deep in Alfred's subconscious he knew it was wrong. But as he moaned for more, Ivan moved faster, throwing Alfred over the edge. This was sex at its rawest, passionate and primal. And it was so, so real.

It's not a dream. Alfred's eyes shot open at this realization as Ivan's hand snaked between them to grasp Alfred's erection. No dream could be so vivid, so real.

This is really happening.

They moved together, the sounds and feelings pounding within Alfred. Ivan was really being unfaithful to Yao. He was really buried inside Alfred, calling him pet names and kissing him like a lover. And Alfred wanted to blame himself, but he knew it was not his fault. He was going to keep his feelings a secret, but damn it, Ivan found out and acted.

As Ivan hit that spot, Alfred cried out loudly, the pleasure almost at its maximum peak. He could feel himself growing closer to release and arched his back, waiting for that moment.

With a few more thrusts, Alfred came in Ivan's hand, and Ivan was more than willing to clean it up with his mouth. He continued moving inside Alfred, almost spent as well.

Alfred shuddered at the feeling of Ivan's release filling him, making him feel like a dirty whore. Where was the justice? The reassurance that this was somehow right? He was so overwhelmed…

"Sleep," Ivan instructed, pulling himself out of Alfred.

Before complying, Alfred noticed Ivan's left hand, the one he had so ruthlessly used to bring Alfred to his climax, still had a gold band around his ring finger.


When Alfred woke again, he felt well rested, and surprisingly not in pain. It seemed Ivan had taken the liberty in redressing Alfred. It was still nightfall, so he could not have slept more than a few hours.

Then why did he feel so relaxed and rested?

Before he could think, there was a knock at the door. Alfred shuffled around, leaping up from the bed and putting Matthew's glasses on.

Ivan smiled from the other side; it was definitely not as sinister as a few hours ago. "I trust you had a nice sleep?" he asked. "Did you have good dreams?"

What the—? Alfred glanced at Ivan skeptically. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Ivan sighed. "Sit down," he said, "and we'll talk."

Alfred obeyed, and Ivan sat in one of the red velvet chairs that decorated the intricate room. "What happened?" Alfred asked.

"You know how we each have one special ability? How each vampyre is blessed with a different gift along with our other powers?" Ivan started.

"Like how I can lift an elephant with my bare hands and how Françoise can see through the thickest walls?" Alfred guessed. He'd learned of the Gift when he effortlessly lifted his and Arthur's bed one night. After freaking out, Arthur had explained that each vampyre was given another ability along with his or her other powers, and sometimes it could take up to a century to activate. Arthur, for example, could manipulate people's thoughts through physical contact, but it only worked on humans.

"Wait, so the night you met me…" Alfred had tried to put two and two together. "You pinned me against the tree and made me believe I didn't want to hurt you!"

"You couldn't even if you tried," Arthur had insulted, smirking.

"And you manipulated me into having sex with you!" Alfred had cried. "Holy shit, Arthur, is there anything you haven't done to change me?"

"Okay, I'll admit, I didn't mean for that to go as far as it had." Alfred remembered how cute Arthur was when he blushed. "I was just going to have you lift your head up so I could give you a proper bite, but your mind was too active and I needed to weaken it!"

"Arthur Kirkland, you are so dead!"

"Can't kill what's already dead, love."

"Da, exactly," said Ivan bringing Alfred back to the present. "Do you know what my gift is?"

Alfred shook his head.

"Through physical contact, I can surface dreams and feelings through the subconscious," Ivan explained. "It helps people find solutions to problems."

"It was a dream?" Alfred shrieked in disbelief. "It felt so real…" The blush on his cheeks was very prominent.

"Er… that is one of the many ways my gift works. Arthur did not tell you? He was supposed to have done so the night before. " Ivan crossed his arms.

Alfred jogged his memory. He remembered Arthur looking at him like he wanted to explain something further, but didn't do so. That's what it must have been. "He did not," Alfred confirmed, shaking his head again. "So… you knew."

Ivan did not deny it. "I did," he said, nodding. "I can tell when one is infatuated, Alfred. And I am truly flattered. But I am Yao's, and I always will be. I just figured through my gift I'd make you realize what you wanted. Did it work?"

"I guess." Alfred shrugged. "I learned I couldn't fall for a bonded man. It's too dangerous."

"But even more to not say anything to said man, Alfred," said Ivan knowingly. "Bottled emotions are never healthy." He stood and walked toward the door. "I hope I have no inconvenienced your search for true love."

"Not in the slightest." Alfred smiled. "It just… made me more aware."

Because Alfred sure as hell wasn't making this mistake again.

So yeah. Weird, right? It seems like Alfred's never gonna have a happy ending. Just wait. It only gets worse.

Next Chapter: It is now 1850 in Paris. Alfred meets a vampyre with a past almost as tragic as his.