#Three Things to Keep in Mind When Exploring the Catacombs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sluttyten · 4 years

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you will be my always

Part I: you can call me monster || Part 2: you can be my angel

summary: forever doesn’t really seem like too much to ask for when you know you’re in love with the supernatural world (and it loves you back just as much)

words: 22,000

pairings: jungwoo x reader, lucas x reader, jungwoo x lucas, jungwoo x reader x lucas

In the last month and a half, many things had changed. The rival pack was run out of town, leaving behind a sizeable amount of wealth as well as a witch and two vampires that they’d been keeping as something similar to pets, so Kun claimed the other pack’s cash and brought the new kids to the vampires for safekeeping.

YangYang, the young witch, quickly found himself welcomed by Ten. The vampires Xiaojun and Hendery seemed to come as a package deal, and for the first few days they were in the house they didn’t leave each other’s side much until Ten finally pried them apart and got them to hang out with everyone. Hendery apparently fell in love with Ten and Johnny and let them adopt him. Xiaojun fell in with WinWin, and could often be found hanging out with the wolf the second he stepped into the house, much to Yuta’s annoyance.

And when the last month of winter chill sets in, even several of the vampires decide that the city is too cold to stay in. Yuta, Taeil, and Xiaojun pair up with WinWin for a trip to Paris to explore the catacombs like true Parisian vampires.

And then there’s the matter of Lucas.

Specifically, Lucas’s crush on your boyfriend, his slightly smaller (but growing) crush on you, and the fact that the three of you slept together to bring in the new year.

Nothing else has happened like that between the three of you. Sometimes you think about it, sometimes you and Jungwoo talk about it when you’re in bed together, and he never seems to be strongly leaning one way or the other on actually inviting Lucas back into bed, rather he seems content with just fantasizing about it with you, so you don’t push it. But there are times when you catch Lucas watching Jungwoo and times when you catch him looking at you and you’ll feel that flare of lust in your belly, remembering his hands and his kiss.

But you don’t push it, and things go back to normal, just the three of you hanging out as friends.

And you go to school and bury yourself in classwork to distract yourself from the inner conflict of the desire you feel.

“What are you thinking about?” A foot kicks yours under the table, and you jolt, snapping to attention in the middle of the coffee shop on the edge of your university’s campus.

Jaehyun sits across from you sipping at his coffee, raising his eyebrows at you. Ten sits beside him, his iced coffee long forgotten as he scribbles sigils and enchantments down in a notebook.

The three of you are waiting for YangYang who has class for another half hour before you all head back to the coven’s place together. Outside, snow whirls past the windows, and you don’t look forward to going back out there.

Jaehyun’s foot taps against yours again and you frown at him.

“Nothing, Jaehyun. Personal stuff.” You glance down at your phone, the background of which is Jungwoo and Lucas making silly faces at you behind the camera.

Ten doesn’t even look up from his notebook. “She’s thinking about fucking Jungwoo and Lucas. Again.”

You fight the urge to swear at him, and Ten grins at you.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He finally puts the pen down and closes the notebook. “I don’t have to be a mind reader, everyone can feel the tension between the three of you, and once the pack told the rest of us about that menage a trois, it all made sense.”

You fold your arms across your chest and ignore the pair across the table and the way that they’re smiling at each other, so amused. After they continue trying to talk and you continue ignoring them, Jaehyun finally sits forward.

“We’re not judging you, if that’s what you think.” He says. “Plenty of people do that polygamy thing, and while it’s a bit odd for a human to be involved with a vampire and a werewolf, especially when human life spans are so short, that’s just…”

Ten harshly elbows Jaehyun and shakes his head.

“What?” Jaehyun looks between Ten and you. “This is kinda like something Taeyong and I talked about when we first got together. I told him how I didn’t want to be in a relationship where the only outcome could be one of us dying.”

“Seriously, Jaehyun?” Ten asks, then hisses, “You’re a werewolf. You live as long as you want or until something kills you. And you’re telling us, a human and a mortal witch, about that?”

“I didn’t know that werewolves live like that at the time.” Jaehyun mumbles and sips at his coffee.

You stare down at your fingers wrapped around your cup. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard parts of this. You and Ten already had a discussion about the issues of dating an immortal vampire when you have a human life span. And you hadn’t really thought about it again since then because you didn’t want to think about someday dying and just being another name in Jungwoo’s past. Now you learn that Lucas is essentially immortal too.

By the time YangYang shows up, bundled in a scarf and hat and coat and complaining about all the snow and cold, you’re still in a deep funk.

Ten jumps to his feet and shoves the notebook he was scrawling in earlier into YangYang’s arms and begins telling him about heating spells.

You follow and Jaehyun walks beside you, his head bowed against the cold wind, and when you reach the bus, he falls into the seat beside you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you. . . Existential, I guess.” He gestures around with his hands. “It’s just that when I started dating Taeyong, I thought werewolves were just as mortal as humans. So I kinda know what you’re feeling and I know that you probably don’t want to talk about it, so tell me about something else. Anything to get your mind off of it.”

“Why don’t you talk to me? Tell me more about you and Taeyong.” You tell him, and you lean your head back against the bus seat. “How do a vampire and a werewolf meet and fall in love?”

You watch as a lazy smile drifts across Jaehyun’s lips. He fiddles a little with the strap of his backpack.

“I haven’t always been a part of Kun’s pack. I was a lone wolf for a while after I was turned, my first several full moons were hell. Like the first time, I thought I was dying. The next few times weren’t much better, and every time it happened when I was out, off campus for the night. I would start feeling strange so I would go somewhere to be alone, feeling like I was going to be sick or that I was dying because my heart was pounding and my skin felt like it was crawling, and within the hour the transformation would start and I would black out and not remember anything until I woke up naked somewhere hopefully within the city.

“Most of us really just look like stray dogs when we transform, only some of us actually look like wolves. But that’s not my point.” He shakes his hand and starts messing with a bracelet on his wrist, one that you notice has thin silver lines on it, similar to Jungwoo’s daylight ring. But before you can ask, Jaehyun starts talking again. “It was probably my seventh full moon and I was at this bar, this was actually around the time when you and I had class together. You know that bar that our professor was always talking about? It’s on 52nd Street?”

You vaguely recall the place. Your professor would tell the class stories about how he went to that particular bar to observe and talk with people, trying to understand the connections between their psyche and social interactions.

“I went there that night because he was offering me extra credit,” Jaehyun says. “It was the full moon, but I figured I could gather some info and be out of there before the moon had completely risen. Anyway, I was at the bar taking notes on people and I lost track of time, and before I knew it, I could feel the change beginning to set in. It’s like an ache in your bones, your skin burns a bit and itches. So I ran out of there and I didn’t make it far before I couldn’t go any further so I moved into this alley and I was hunched there trying not to make too much noise, and then suddenly there was a guy in front of me and he was handsome like out of this world handsome, you know?

“You’ve met Yongie. Of course you know how handsome he is. And he took one look at me, put his hand on my forehead, looked at the moon, and told me to get up. When I tried to argue since I knew I would be transforming within the hour, he just snapped at me that he was taking me to a friend, an alpha. I’m pretty sure my bones started snapping before we got to the den and I passed out from the pain, so Taeyong had to carry me the rest of the way. I was in and out of it after that. Of course, by the time we got to the den, most of the pack had already completed the transformations, so Taeyong did what vampires are good at, and he held me down while I transformed so I wouldn’t hurt myself and his strength and the chill of his skin grounded me and he sat with me after I transformed and I can still remember it. That was the first time I was a wolf and could remember everything.

“He pet me like I was just a dog and kept talking to me. We were in the main area of the den alone since everyone else was locked in their bedrooms. Like, you’ve seen Lucas’s cuffs chained to the wall? That’s not just some kinky bondage thing,” Jaehyun grins and you cover your face. “Some wolves experience different sorts of transformation, some are more violent than others, so they actually have to be chained down to keep from causing serious damage in the change. But that night I was fine and Taeyong stayed with me all night and in the morning he was still there until I’d turned back. He had to stay the rest of the day, and he introduced me to the pack and Kun took me in, and I’ve not left ever since. And Taeyong took a special interest in me, and honestly I had a very special interest in him too.”

“And you started dating shortly after that?” You ask.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, not right away. Like I said, I had… reservations about going into a relationship with a vampire. But then I had a break from school and there was something Kun wanted me to go fetch for the pack, since I was the newest member he wanted me to do it, but since I’m new I would need some sort of protection since I didn’t understand the ins and outs of supernatural life, and Taeyong volunteered to go with me and claimed he’d always wanted to go to the city Kun said I had to go to. So we made a Spring Break trip of it, although it was definitely not like the breaks you see in the movies.

“No sunshine, no beaches, no getting drunk.” Jaehyun shakes his head. “We took a flight that left late at night and arrived at night. I didn’t mind being on a nocturnal schedule, like most of the nighttime where we were was daytime here, so it didn’t mess terribly with my brain. And it was while we were on this trip that Tae even indicated that he was actually interested in me.” You notice Jaehyun blushing a little.

“He was thirsty one night, and you can’t really just let a thirsty vampire roam the streets of a strange, foreign city. He might run into a bad pack of wolves or crazy vampire hunters or any number of bad things. So I offered to let him drink from me, and I know you know how vampires can get when they’re drinking. Some of them get really, really horny. And I’m not saying that Taeyong is one of them, because if I did say that, he would kill me, but after he was done drinking that night he was so embarrassed.” And now Jaehyun’s ears burn bright red. “When I suggested it was alright that he was feeling that way, Taeyong got more embarrassed and he tried acting tough and not embarrassed, but he was and I loved it.

“So it wasn’t like a Spring Break with the sunshine and the beaches and getting drunk, but it did involve nudity and drinking of a different sort.” He grins and runs his hands over his hair then reaches down to fiddle with his bracelet again. “I kinda consider that whole trip to be our first date because it was when I realized that I really loved him, you know. Like I thought he was great before that and I really liked him and we were close, like good friends, but that trip was the big step, and while we were there, away from all of this, it really cemented these feelings and I knew that the way I felt about him was real.”

“And what’s this bracelet?” You tap his wrist where he’s still messing around with the jewelry.

Jaehyun looks down and twists it around a few times before he nods at Ten who’s sitting a few rows ahead of you two with his head bowed toward YangYang’s over the notebook. “This is a gift from Ten. Shortly after I found a home with the pack and learned about the vampires and ghosts and everything being real, I walked in on Ten doing a spell in the bathroom at school. I think he nearly shit himself when I walked in and he was standing there with his lightning running over his fingertips. I think he would’ve wiped my memory, which he has threatened to do since then for a different reason, but when I told him I was a werewolf he relaxed a bit. Then I brought him around the pack and when we were talking about the full moon coming up, Ten listened and then made us these. They ease the transformation and make it less painful and quicker.”

“Clever.” You touch the bracelet again, and you swear you can feel a static tingle under your fingers. “Do you think it’s kinda similar to the ring he gave Jungwoo?”

He shrugs. “He made almost a dozen of these bracelets, but he’s only made the one ring. If I had to say, I think this is a less complex magic than the ring. But you’d really have to ask the magician and his apprentice.” Again he casts a look at the two witches. “I do wish the ring were an easier spell for him to do. I would love to give Taeyong a ring like that.” Jaehyun pauses and then sighs in a sweet, lovesick kind of way. “Or any ring honestly, but don’t tell him I said that.”

You pretend to lock your lips shut, his secret safe within. “I’m sure if you asked Ten, he could work on it, especially with YangYang and Jisung’s help. They could pool enough power to get Taeyong a magical daylight wedding ring.”

Jaehyun smiles and you see the tips of his ears are turning red. “Can you imagine me married?” He laughs and his eyes are far-off, a smile etched on his face. “Me married to a daylight vampire? He could come to see me play a whole basketball game. He could see me graduate at the end of the semester. And, like I said don’t tell him this, but literally the day after our first date I was already picturing marrying him, which is so stupid but shit Taeyong looks handsome in a tux, and I think a spring wedding would be so nice with cherry blossoms and sunlight.”

You can picture it. Jaehyun and Taeyong holding hands at an outdoor ceremony, smiling and crying because they’re both emotional guys. You can picture them living a happy life, living an actual eternity together as they swear to do in their vows.

You feel a knot settling in your stomach at all of this talk. You want that too. You want to be happy and have an eternity with Jungwoo.

When at last the bus comes to the stop near the vampires’ mansion, you nearly leap over Jaehyun and hurry out of the bus, running toward the house. Snowflakes bite against your cheeks, and in the distance you see the sunset burning through a break in the snowstorm.

You burst through the front door of the house, and you’re halfway up the stairs when Jungwoo appears at the top, looking worried.

“What’s wrong? Why are you running?” His voice sounds panicked, and you’re certain that he’s heard the loud pounding of your heart and it’s made him worry. You climb the rest of the stairs and don’t waste a second before you loop your arms around his waist and press your cheek to his chest.

“I love you, Jungwoo.”

Swiftly, Jungwoo lifts you into his arms and carries you the rest of the way to his bedroom. You’ve barely crossed the threshold of his room when you notice that you’re not alone in there.

You pull your face from your boyfriend’s chest and look across the room to where Lucas is sitting in the chair in the corner. He looks up when you drop to the floor.

“Lucas.” You say his name in a tone similar to the one you’d just used with Jungwoo at the top of the stairs. Somewhat tired, somewhat sad, somewhat needy. As you cross the room toward him, Lucas glances behind you at Jungwoo, and you don’t care what that means, you reach the chair and you climb in and sit on his lap.

Lucas’s hands go immediately to your hips, securing your place in his lap.

“What are you doing?” He asks, and once again he’s glancing between you and Jungwoo, confusion and alarm bleeding into his tone.

It’s then that you realize, while you and Jungwoo have discussed the threesome and have discussed Lucas since that morning on the first of the year, Lucas has mostly been in the dark on the subject. For all he knows that was a completely one-off occasion that neither you nor Jungwoo wants to revisit even a mention of.

But now you’re sitting in his lap, and he doesn’t know what’s happening or what to do. And when you look back at Jungwoo, he sort of seems to be in the same position as Lucas: confused, unsure what to do. So you just say the first thing on your mind.

“Let’s get away. All three of us. Let’s go on a trip together and just relax and have fun and escape the cold.” Jaehyun’s words echo in your mind, the part of his story where getting away with Taeyong has helped them cement their feelings in the relationship. “I know the cold doesn’t bother either of you, but I’m tired of it.” You lean back a little and feel Lucas’s fingers twist in the back of your shirt.

His eyebrows meet in the middle as he frowns a little. “Where would we go? And why? Don’t you have school right now?”

“Forget about that. I want to get away for a while.” You turn to look at Jungwoo. “Please, Woo. You mentioned Taeil has an island once, right? We could go there for the ultimate relaxation.”

“You want to take a vampire to a tropical destination? Even a sunburn-proof vampire’s going to be a bit hesitant about that.” Lucas laughs a little, but you don’t hear a no coming from either one of the men in the room with you.

You reach out a hand to Jungwoo, and he messes a hand through his hair and glances out the nearby window. The curtains are thrown open to show off the grayness of the snowstorm outside.

“Jungwoo, come on. Think about it. You, me, a beach.” You slide back in Lucas’s lap until your back rests against his chest. “And Lucas.”

Lucas’s hands tighten on you, and Jungwoo turns his gaze to your corner of the room again. His eyes are a hungry shade hovering just between his calm black and the angry red, like a warm, molten treacle.

The room is silent for a moment, so quiet that you think you can hear snowflakes brushing against the window, the world holding its breath while Jungwoo stares at you seated in the lap of his secret desire.

“Alright,” Jungwoo sighs finally. “But I’ll have to ask if we can borrow his island. And how to get there. No guarantees, sunshine.”

You bound out of Lucas’s lap and jump into Jungwoo’s arms again, wrapping yourself around him as he holds you up and spins around a few times before he settles you down on the bed. And as you look around at the two of them, you notice that they’re both smiling too.

The plane touches down, and all you can see is the glimmer of turquoise water, the gleam of white sand beaches.

Beside you, Jungwoo shields his eyes against the light and pulls his hat lower over his face as Lucas leans across him, trying to get a glimpse out the window. He whistles appreciatively.

You’re not quite to your destination yet.

The instructions Jungwoo got from Taeil said that this flight was only the first part.

When Taeil claimed the island as his several hundred years before, he’d made certain it was private, far away from nearby civilization. It was where he’d napped while Doyoung and Jungwoo were off exploring the world, and Taeil hadn’t wanted to be disturbed by human explorers, and therefore chose an island safely out at sea, the most moderately sized one that he could find. Not so big that it would draw unwanted attention, but not so small that it would get swept away in a storm.

After he’d woken from his nap, he’d had a house built on the island and it was a fertile little place with a decently sized forest on it that flourished with life. All sorts of little creatures and vegetation that he was pretty sure was edible for humans.

So it sounded as close to paradise as you could find, but even as the plane touched down on the tarmac, you still had a long way to go.

“Where do we go after this?” You asked Jungwoo again, slipping your hand into his.

“Take a smaller plane to an island. Then an even smaller plane from there to another island. Then we rent a boat and follow the coordinates he gave me to Tai Ilisam as the locals call it.” He starts playing with your fingers as the other passengers on the plane begin climbing to their feet, crowding the center aisle even though no one will be getting off the plane for at least a few more minutes.

On Jungwoo’s other side Lucas says, “What locals? I thought you said it was private.”

“It is.” Jungwoo smiles. “The last island we’re flying into, those people have names for all the smaller islands around, but Taeil says that they avoid Tai Ilisam because it’s haunted by a violent spirit that wrecks ships and feeds off the survivors.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Taeil we know.” You lean into Jungwoo’s shoulder.

Jungwoo shakes his head. “That’s the Taeil that I first knew. He’s tried befriending the island people since that time, but the legend lives on and they think that Taeil’s the descendant of the only person to ever survive a shipwreck on Tai Ilisam. He also said they probably think he’s possessed, and when we come back they’ll treat us like we’re possessed too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lucas smirks. “Do we think gold eyes will make them feel like I’m possessed?” When he leans forward, hiding his face from the aisle, you and Jungwoo have a clear view of Lucas’s wolfishly golden eyes.

A few minutes later, the plane begins to empty, and the three of you follow the rest of the passengers out. The layover isn’t long, just barely enough time to navigate through the airport to where your next plane awaits. That flight isn’t long, and you nap with your head on Jungwoo’s shoulder while Lucas peers out the window at the ocean passing by below.

You’re still hazy with sleep as you leave that flight and make it to the next plane which is tiny and barely more than a mail plane heading to the small island before Tai Ilisam. It’s a rickety plane that jolts and shudders and creaks and beeps too much for your liking, so you spend the entire flight clinging to both Jungwoo and Lucas, figuring that if the plane goes down, the two supernatural men are your best bet at survival.

But the plane touches down safely, the pilot thanks you for flying, and reminds you that he’ll be back at the same time the following week unless it’s storming, and if you want a flight back to do it then.

And then the last leg of the journey finally begins.

As Jungwoo treks ahead of you, using the notes he’s got from Taeil to find his way to the docks to find a boat to rent for the week, Lucas slings his arm over your shoulders and walks with you.

You straggle a bit behind Jungwoo, distracted as you pass through this town’s island. It’s a decent size, and you can tell that they do get the occasional tourist and they probably are the supply hub for the surrounding smaller private islands like Taeil’s island.

Lucas convinces you to stop in the marketplace because there’s all kinds of delicious food, and as he’s feeling more human than wolf at the moment, his appetite is more human, so the pair of you buy fruit and vegetables and meat and pack it all in a cooler before hurrying along to find Jungwoo at the docks, which the locals kindly direct you toward.

Tai Ilisam, it turns out, is a two hour boat ride away, so you climb in the boat Jungwoo rented and set out across the sea.

And when you see the island come into view, you gasp. The sand is a beautiful pink, contrasting with the vibrant blue of the water and the green of the island’s vegetation, and through the trees at the edge of the beach, you see shining glass.

Jungwoo pulls the boat nicely up to a dock, and Lucas helps him tie it up.

“Why did Taeil build a place here if he can’t live in the sun?” You ask, jumping from the boat onto the dock and you run to the sand, kicking off your shoes because you want to feel the sand between your toes.

A moment later Jungwoo is right behind you, grabbing your hand and swinging you around, spinning you across the sand like it’s a dance floor.

“He knew that if he ever needed to get away, such as escape from the rare vampire hunters, this would be the perfect place.” He says as you spin to face him. Jungwoo squints from under the bill of his cap. “He figured no one would think to look for a vampire on this tiny island where the sun shines so brightly, without humans around to feed on.”

Jungwoo grins wickedly and tightens his arms around your waist and bends you backwards until his mouth presses to your throat.

You close your eyes and dig your fingers into Jungwoo’s arms, sigh at the feeling of his lips, the hint of his teeth. You so badly want him to bite you right then, have his venom coursing sweetly through your veins.

“But now I’ve lured a human here and I have no plans of letting you leave.” He attacks your throat with little kisses, peppering them up your jaw and your cheeks.

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up as Jungwoo stands upright, and you stretch up on your toes and kiss him.

“Is this how it’s going to be all week?” Lucas stands a few feet off. Holding his suitcase in one hand, the cooler of food in the other, and your bag and Jungwoo’s are thrown over his shoulders. “Don’t tell me you invited me along to be a third wheel.”

Jungwoo turns to look at Lucas with a soft smile. “Jealousy is a good look, Lucas. I guess, there’s some stuff we all need to talk about.”

You detach yourself from Jungwoo and cross the sand between you and Lucas. You take your bag from him and Jungwoo takes his, and the three of you set off for the house just behind the cover of the trees.

Taeil’s island home isn’t elegant, it’s just a basic home built to withstand the strain of tropical existence. You’re not surprised to find that there’s only a single bedroom and a bare office, both windowless, and the windows of the house that look out onto the pink sand beach and the gorgeous ocean beyond are heavily curtained to not allow in any sunlight.

Lucas hesitates in the doorway of the bedroom, looking over his shoulder at the sofa in the large open main room. You can see the wheels turning in his head, and the moment he begins to turn to walk back to the sofa, you grab his hand and pull.

“You’re not sleeping out there. Don’t be ridiculous.”

The bed is massive, definitely big enough to comfortably fit Jungwoo, Lucas, and yourself. “You’re not third-wheeling with us.”

Jungwoo takes Lucas’s suitcase and sits it inside the bedroom, and then he steps closer and rakes his fingers through Lucas’s already wind-blown hair, messing it up even further. “I know we haven’t talked about that night. New Year’s Eve, I mean. We just kinda glossed it over, but she and I have talked about it a bit. And I’ve been thinking,” Jungwoo slips his fingers through Lucas’s belt loops. “I think it could be fun to see what else we can do.”

And right then you see it. A snap of a connection, a jolt of lust that glows within Lucas’s eyes, and you know that if you don’t separate them now, you won’t get to just relax totally peacefully on the island for this first night.

As great as sex is, especially when one or both of them is involved, you just want a quiet, enjoyable night. Cooking the food you’ve brought, watching the sunset, maybe going for a swim before dark or building a fire or stargazing.

And maybe it’s a bit selfish, but you don’t want them to mess around together without you. Because Jungwoo is your boyfriend.

“Let’s go check out the beach.” You insist. “I want to take pictures to send home. My mom will be so jealous when she sees this place.”

Distracted, not only by your plans of exploration, but also by the talk about your mother, Jungwoo let’s go of Lucas. “When do I get to meet her anyway? Does she even know we’re together?”

You hadn’t told Jungwoo much about your history before university. He knew bits and pieces from things you slipped into casual conversation, but he had yet to meet your parents or anyone that knew you before you came to the university. You rarely ever spoke about parents or siblings or grandparents, and Jungwoo didn’t push.

“She knows all about you. You’re all I talk about when I call her, you and Lucas, and some of the stuff we get into.” You smile and reach for both of the boys. “Now let’s go before it gets dark.”

Maybe in the interim time you’d forgotten the shape of Lucas’s body or the feel of his skin under your fingers, the broadness of his shoulders, the shift of muscle under skin. But now you’re all too aware of every bit of that.

You gasp and clutch at his arm.

“You’re so clumsy!” Lucas teases, wrapping his arm around you so that the next wave doesn’t knock you over entirely. “No wonder Jungwoo’s so protective about you, baby.”

Lucas holds tightly to you as another wave rolls past, and the pair of you struggle a few feet further into the sea.

The taste of salt tingles on your tongue and you look around, searching for the shape of Jungwoo, sunbathing on a rock a short distance from the shore. He’s got his eyes closed, his arms folded behind his head, and he’s totally naked except for the ring on his finger.

He’s your destination at the moment. And as Lucas swings you around in front of him, blocking you from another wave while his fingers simultaneously tickle down your sides causing you to shriek with laughter, you begin to wonder if he’s helping you on your journey or hindering you, but also, you don’t really mind.

You climb up his body, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing your chest to his back, and your arms go firmly around his shoulders. Another wave crashes against you, washing over your lower half, and even Lucas stumbles a step forward.

Jungwoo doesn’t even look your way, too busy soaking in the precious sunlight he was denied for so long.

The rock he’s on isn’t nearly big enough for the three of you, but you climb on and sit beside him, carefully wringing out your hair onto his skin. You watch in amusement as Jungwoo opens an eye to look at you. His nipples perk up from the chill and you’re tempted to lean down and lick at his chest, taste the salt and sun on his skin.

Then a shadow stretches across the rock.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like a god?” Jungwoo asks, shielding his eyes a little as he looks up at Lucas. The sun sits behind his head, gilding his hair, and water drips from his body and you feel your heart drop into your belly, pulsing and fluttering, so you squeeze your legs together.

“All the time.” Lucas grins. He doesn’t sit down, there’s not enough room, instead he continues standing there, looking godly and too hot for you. After another minute you have to look away from him, casting your gaze toward the shore and the house.

This is your first full day on Tai Ilisam. Last night was short and none of you lasted too long after arriving. You walked some length down the beach, Jungwoo gave you a piggyback ride back to the house, and then you made a quick dinner and fell asleep, exhausted from the day of travel.

You’re convinced that after you fell asleep your vampire and your werewolf companions masterminded a wicked plan to make you as frustrated as possible all day long.

From the moment you woke until this moment sitting here on the rock, it seems that they’ve been doing as much as possible to make you horny.

You woke in bed between the two of them. You were halfway on top of Jungwoo with your leg thrown over one of his, his thigh pressed against your center. Lucas was beside you and at some point in the night your hand had fallen into his lap, and at the moment when you woke, your hand was lightly holding his slightly hard cock.

You were certain they planned it.

And then when you got out of the bathroom you found them in the kitchen, both shirtless, Jungwoo standing closely behind Lucas to watch as the wolf prepared a breakfast. And then you’d watched as Jungwoo ate his breakfast fresh from Lucas’s throat, his lips sealed against Lucas’s skin.

Then the morning passed in a blur of boys’ bare skin and too much hands as they rubbed lotion on you to make sure you were protected from the sun, and each touch on your skin drove you a little more crazy.

But you didn’t come on this vacation just for sex in an exotic location, you wanted to have other fun and explore the island. Feel the sun on your skin and the sea all around you. So that’s what you were doing right now. But you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to fuck both of them right now and every moment since dawn.

You shiver when you feel the coolness of Jungwoo’s ring against your skin, and for once his fingers hold warmth without taking it from you first.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks. “We can hear your heartbeat.”

You press your hand to your chest and realize that your heart is pounding.

Jungwoo sits up, his posture perfect even in this relaxed paradise, even on this less than comfortable rock. His fingers move high on your thighs, stroking in what could be an absentminded manner except that you know it’s not.

“Race you to shore!” You call, avoiding answering his question as you climb quickly to your feet, and you dive off the rock, swimming as quickly as you can toward the pink beach. But even then, when you stand and wipe the sea water from your eyes, Jungwoo stands there in all his naked glory, and Lucas laughs beside him, shaking his hair like a wet dog might.

The longer you watch the way that they’re both acting with you, the more you realize that Jungwoo is the one pushing you, teasing you, trying to get you to the point where you’ll be so turned on you can’t deny it anymore.

So you wait.

You relax for a while on the beach, reading a book and sitting in one of the three comfy chairs Jungwoo helped you drag down from the house’s enclosed back porch.

Lucas and Jungwoo wrestle and fight out in the water, howling with laughter so loudly you’re certain they’ve scared off any of the island’s wildlife. Once you look up when you notice they’ve grown quiet and they’re both watching you while Jungwoo talks to Lucas and you feel heat flooding your belly, and you want to part your legs and give them a tease or puff out your chest or something that will tease them back the way you’ve felt all day, but they turn away and go back to what seems to be trying to catch fish with their bare hands. But you swear that the next time you catch them looking you’ll do something for a show.

You don’t have to wait long.

You hear one of them coming out of the water, slopping toward you, and it’s Lucas.

Jungwoo stands out in the water, watching the horizon, and Lucas sighs and collapses down into the chair beside you, props his feet up and closes his eyes.

“Jungwoo was telling me something interesting.” He rolls his head to the side to look at you.

“Like what?”

“Well we didn’t get to talk really last night, you know. You and I fell asleep pretty quick after dinner, so there wasn’t much to say, but Jungwoo was just saying that you seem to like revisiting our time together.” His crooked smile snags at your attention and you can’t look away. “He said that you guys have talked about it sometimes like when you’re in bed, about to have sex, even in the middle of sex. Is it true that you —“

You don’t let him finish whatever he was going to say. The book you were reading falls into the sand as you move from your chair into Lucas’s, swinging your leg over his and you settle down into his lap, put one hand to the joint of his neck and his shoulder, and you lean in until you’re just inches from his lips and you brush some of his damp hair back from his forehead.

Lucas looks up at you with wide, soft eyes and his lips part around a sigh. You shift your hips ever-so-slightly against him and do that several times until you can feel him responding.

“Do you think he can hear us from here?” You whisper, circling your hips and you brush your lips along Lucas’s cheekbone then touch them to his ear as you continue, “Or is he too focused on the sea?”

Lucas’s hands slide up to your hips. “He can’t hear.”

Still moving, grinding along Lucas’s length, you whisper, “Did he tell you the things he told me when we were in bed? About how after that night he’s thought about you? He told me he had a dream, and vampire dreams are rare, where he had his fingers inside you and your cock was dripping wet for him. You were whimpering and whining his name. He said he fingered you until you were begging for him to fuck you, but instead he let me ride him and cum as many times as I wanted while you watched.”

You feel his cock twitch under you. His breath comes out shakily. You climb off his lap, satisfied with what you’ve done, the tent in his shorts is obvious.

And you leave him there, just like that.

“Jungwoo!” You jog across the beach, into the water, and you wade out to Jungwoo, who turns around to greet you.

You stand out there in the ocean with him for a while longer. He points to shapes on the horizon that you can barely even see, he catches tiny fish and cups them in his hands, and when he dives down into the water, searching for a shell to give you, he comes back up by swimming right up to you and kissing your stomach as he surfaces, then lifting you up before he presents you with a beautifully intact sea shell.

You’re so wrapped up in each other, that you don’t notice when Lucas leaves the beach and returns to the house until you’re walking out of the water and your eyes fall on the empty chairs.

“Where did he go?” Jungwoo looks around, holding tightly to your hand. He scans the water and the surrounding trees, he tilts his head in a way that tells you that he’s listening, and then he nods at the house. “He’s in there. I can hear the shower running. I still wanted to go walk further around the island.” He pouts a little and you squeeze his hand.

“Do you think I could have upset him?” You tug on his fingers. “He was trying to tease me, I think, about you telling him that we’ve talked about him in bed, and I told him about that dream you had.”

Jungwoo’s eyes darken a bit. “Do you think Lucas would be upset by that? He’s made of sturdier stuff than that.”

“I may have been grinding on him and telling him about that, then I left him hard and went to you.” You duck your head and drag your toes through the sand. “But in my defence, the two of you have been trying to make me horny all day, and I was tired of it. I wanted to have some fun.”

“So we’ll have fun. Come on, sunshine.” He starts toward the house, and you follow, falling into step beside him. Jungwoo swings your hands comfortably, and when you reach the house he plucks the shell from your finger and sits it on a nearby table, then he turns to you and very seriously says, “If you want this, like if you really, really want to have the three of us together again, are you going to be happy and comfortable if I have sex with Lucas?”

“That’s… Is that happening now?” You glance toward the door of the bedroom where you can hear the water running.

Jungwoo touches your waist. “He knows how we both feel, why not do it now? And don’t think that I don’t want you involved, I definitely do. Us and Lucas though?” Jungwoo shakes his head and whistles, “We’d be hot.”

His smile is innocent enough, but the look in your boyfriend’s eyes is anything but. You’d be crazy to tell him no right now, not when you can see how much he wants this, and then there’s how much you want Lucas too, and you know that whatever makes both of them happy is going to make you happy as well.

Jungwoo’s hand sneaks down from your waist to your ass, and you swat at his hand, and he pulls it away, smiling wider. “Remember that day in the library at home when you wanted to baby me?” He leans in and bends down so he can press his lips to your throat. “When you were biting me and wanted to call me a slut. I bet we can get Lucas like that for us, angel.”

You shiver as his cool fingers run up your spine, and when they reach the tie of your swimsuit top, he tugs on it lightly and everything comes undone. Your top comes apart, sliding off your shoulders. The last vestiges of your reluctance to have your boyfriend fuck his best friend with you disappear. You’re entirely completely totally ready.

“Lucas is waiting,” you whisper as Jungwoo’s lips move over your throat again. His fangs scrape lightly over your jugular, and his hands wander down to your ass again, though this time you allow him to touch, to push your swimsuit bottoms down your legs, leaving you naked and slightly self-conscious.

Last time, it seemed like everything just happened quickly. It fell into place and worked and you didn’t have a minute to doubt what was happening, it was purely based on desires and lust. But now you have time to think.

With each step through the house, through the bedroom, into the bathroom, you think about the sand on your body, the way your fingers and toes are pruned from being in the water for so long. You think about the shape of your breasts, the slight prickle of your unshaven legs and your overall hair situation. Jungwoo’s never complained about it, but now you find yourself doubting everything. A tight knot grows tighter in your stomach and you cling to Jungwoo’s hand as you step through the bathroom door together.

Steam fills the bathroom, creating condensation on the mirror over the double vanity and the window that looks out into the dense forest occupying the interior of the island. Lucas stands in the shower under the hot water, his back to the pair of you. His shoulders are turning pink from the heat of the water, but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all, and he just lets it soak over his body.

You’re not sure if he even really knows that you and Jungwoo are there until the moment Jungwoo steps into the shower and presses his cool hands on Lucas’s shoulders.

The werewolf spins around quickly. He looks first at Jungwoo, his eyes, his lips, and he doesn’t shy away when Jungwoo takes another step closer. Then he looks at you, noticing all of your beautiful bare skin, the shape of you hazy through the steam, the way that you’re holding yourself.

Jungwoo presses his fingers to Lucas’s chin, drawing his eyes (which grow more golden by the second) back to Jungwoo’s mouth.

“Why did you leave us out there?” Jungwoo asks. “We weren’t quite finished playing and exploring. I wanted to see the rest of the island, but then you were gone.”

You step closer, into the shower itself, and you let the warm water wash over you, rinsing away the sand that clings stubbornly to your skin. Lucas looks at you for just a moment, and then Jungwoo’s lips are on his throat. You see a flash of white teeth, a glimpse of red swiped away by a pink tongue, and then Lucas’s big hands are on Jungwoo’s hips to pull him closer.

“Now we’re going to have to play and explore something else.” Jungwoo says, fixing his mouth onto Lucas’s throat again, but this time he doesn’t bite, he just kisses across Lucas’s pulse. “She told me that she told you about the dream and how hard you were hearing about it. Is that why you came in here, Xuxi?”

Lucas groans, and you watch as Jungwoo’s hand disappears between their bodies. Lucas’s head falls back against the wall of the shower, and Jungwoo reaches up to cup the back of his head, his lips still busy on Lucas’s throat. You watch Jungwoo’s arm moving, and you can only assume that he’s jerking Lucas off.

“Jungwoo.” Lucas’s moan reverberates off the walls of the shower, and his eyes close in pleasure. “God, please.”

“Shh.” Jungwoo bites down on his throat again and Lucas’s legs buckle a little bit. Jungwoo’s hands move so both of them hold Lucas’s hips, and you lean back against the cold tile, the contrast between it and the steamy heat of the shower is electric on your skin, made better by the visual in front of you as Jungwoo grinds their cocks together between their bodies.

Lucas whines and bucks.

Jungwoo’s pretty lips curve against Lucas’s throat, and he manhandles him, twisting them around with their feet making quiet splashing sounds on the shower floor. And suddenly it’s Lucas whose back is to you, and you make your move to join in.

You slide your hands over Lucas‘s waist, fingers splaying over his skin, and you press up against his back, your lips brushing his skin.

He moans again, leaning into your touch and Jungwoo’s, unsure of which one of you he should fall into more.

Jungwoo’s lips unlatch from his throat, and your hands range higher until your thumbs flick over his nipples. It’s so easy to make Lucas fall apart you’re learning. The last time there wasn’t really too much time to focus on him, so you don’t think he was so pliable for you two, but right now he’s like putty in your hands.

“Are you gonna cum for us, Xuxi?” Jungwoo asks. You look up just in time to see him licking his lips while staring Lucas straight in the eye. “When you cum then we’re going to bed and she and I are going to take you apart bit by bit. That’s what you want right?”

Lucas bites his lip and just rocks his hips to meet Jungwoo’s.

“Lucas.” You speak for the first time, your hand dropping down until you can wrap your fingers around both Lucas and Jungwoo’s erections. You drag your lips over his skin, a quick hint of teeth. “Cum for us.”

You drag your hand up and down their combined lengths, and Lucas moans loudly, a choked off and stuttering sound that is soon swallowed by Jungwoo. And Lucas cums over your hand, his load hot and huge, you keep touching them both until Jungwoo pushes your hand away and he steps back under the shower’s spray. He rakes his fingers through his hair, moving the damp locks away from his forehead.

You’ve all three got Lucas‘s cum on you, so you take a few minutes to shower off, and as the water begins to run cold, you bolt out to wrap in a towel and dry off. The boys linger for a few more moments as neither of them are much affected by the water temperature, and also because Jungwoo’s very distracted by Lucas’s ass, which Lucas has been slowly touching throughout this shower time.

By the time they step out of the shower, looking flushed and damp, you’re reclining on the bed, your towel wrapped around your body.

“She looks lovely,” Lucas says, draping his arms over Jungwoo’s shoulders from behind. “And she smells so good. Can you smell her?” He lifts his face and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. Your body tingles and you squeeze your legs together a little bit, trying to ignore the pulse of need that goes through you right then.

Jungwoo reaches up to untangle Lucas’s arms from his shoulders, and with his hold on the wolf’s wrists, he pulls him around in front of him. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Jungwoo presses forward and you watch in delight as your boyfriend pecks Lucas on the lips and tells him, “Do you want to taste her, pup?��

Lucas moans.

“Go have a taste then.” Jungwoo gives him a light push. “She loves to be eaten out, Xuxi. She especially loves when I bite her thighs and eat her out. Though your venom will make her feel a little different.”

Jungwoo strokes Lucas’s hair again, and then the younger drops down onto the edge of the bed and turns to look at you. His eyes gleam faintly golden, and when he opens his mouth you see his canines look a little sharper. Different than whenever Jungwoo’s fangs start to really show, but still the appearance of sharp teeth sends a vague thrill through you.

“You’ve never been bitten by me, have you?” Lucas asks. The mattress shifts as he crawls into the spot between your legs.

His fingertips drag gently up from your ankle to your knee and then higher still. You shiver and bite your lip, try not to whine as you shake your head in response to his question.

“I’ve heard that it feels different than a vampire bite, but still very good. I’m not taking anything from you, just giving you something good.” Lucas’s fingertips meet the edge of your towel, and he lifts that golden gaze to your eyes, checking to see if you’re good, and when he sees no sign of hesitance in your eyes, he continues.

With a flick of his wrist, the towel falls apart, exposing your body to him and to Jungwoo. Jungwoo takes a step forward, his eyes flashing, his fangs peek out. A low growl sounds from deep in Lucas’s throat and he dips his head to kiss your abdomen, just below your navel. You gasp and reach down, running your hand over the back of his head.

“Once Taeyong, Ten, and I were having a discussion about our sex lives,” Lucas says, sitting up once more. “And Taeyong told us that when Jaehyun bites him during sex it feels like he’s high. Ten was curious, so I bit him, and he said it was just euphoric and we weren’t even doing anything sexual. Just sitting there while it raced through his veins.”

“Wouldn’t a bite turn me?” You gasp as his fingers skate up your inner thigh, ranging dangerously close to your pussy. “That sounds amazing, but I don’t want to be a werewolf, thanks.”

Jungwoo slides up the bed, suddenly there beside you, cradling your head in his lap. “No, sunshine. The bite is only effective at the full moon.”

Lucas nods, and again he lowers his mouth to your skin, gently nipping at your thigh. “I wouldn’t risk turning you. I would never intentionally put you in harm’s way like that.” He nuzzles against your thigh, dragging his nose closer to your center, and he makes that possessive growling noise again. “Now, enough talking, right? You smell like heaven, and I just want a taste.”

“Please.” You touch his hair and shift your hips on the bed. “Bite me if you want to, I don’t mind.”

Lucas dives right in, thumbs pressing to the sensitive joint to part your thighs more for him, and he licks right over your entrance, lapping there for a moment before moving higher to pay attention to your desperate clit.

“Fuck, Lucas!” You moan reaching out for anything, and your hand lands on Jungwoo’s thigh, holding tight. He licks and sucks and slurps and Jungwoo just holds you while Lucas’s tongue takes you to ecstasy. When you feel a sharp prick on your thigh, you glance down and see his lips pressed to your skin, a faint gleam of teeth, and when he looks up at you his fangs are tipped with blood. You whimper and he drops his head back down, returning to your pussy.

Soon you feel his venom starting to take effect. You feel light and warm and not in the way that means your orgasm is approaching, but just better than that almost. You grow more vocal, moaning and swearing, even laughing a little too.

Jungwoo smiles down at you, stroking your cheek and your hair, touching your lips with his fingertips. You roll your hips against Lucas’s face, riding his tongue deep inside you. Jungwoo touches your chest, stroking lightly to stimulate the sensitive skin of your breasts, tracing circles around your nipples and tweaking the pert buds.

You feel your orgasm shredding through you, tearing you apart like beams of light, sparking and shooting across your closed eyelids. Lucas keeps licking at you, moaning and grinding his erection against the bed, savoring every drop you’re offering up to his eager tongue.

“Lucas.” Jungwoo calls his name in a voice so soft but commanding.

Lucas breaks away from his last few lingering licks, looking up at Jungwoo with his eyes glowing. “Yeah?”

“Come here.” Jungwoo crooks a finger at the wolf, and then Lucas is shooting up, leaning over you to meet Jungwoo in a messy kiss, sharing the taste of you from his tongue to Jungwoo’s. Their mouths collide with a slight crash and moans, but the flash of tongues and teeth and your cum on Lucas’s lips takes over.

You lay there beneath them, Lucas’s body halfway over yours, your head still in Jungwoo’s lap. As Lucas shifts up onto his knees, moving higher to better be able to kiss Jungwoo, his cock swings forward between his legs, just almost within reach of your mouth. Even though you’ve just cum, a powerful fire blazes in your gut, hungry and horny, you want more. It’s probably thanks to his venom you feel this way, but you don’t care. You just need.

Lucas moans when your forehead touches his abdomen, and when he feels your lips around his tip, he actually startles a bit. “Still a bit sensitive, angel. Careful.” He hisses, but he rocks forward slightly.

You keep your eyes open, looking up as the two of them resume making out. Jungwoo’s mouth skates to the side and Lucas groans, dropping his hands to your hair, pressing you to take more of his length until you’re just consumed by his scent, the spice and warmth that you’ve come to associate with Lucas.

Jungwoo tuts, a noise of displeasure as he pulls Lucas’s hand away from your hair. You back off, breathing in deeply, rub your cheek against Jungwoo’s thigh.

“Don’t touch, pup.” He holds Lucas’s wrists in his hand. Though you see Lucas struggling against his grip he doesn’t seem to be able to break his hold. “Lay back, Lucas.”

He does as Jungwoo commands, sinking back across the bed, never letting his gaze waver from you in Jungwoo’s lap or the beautiful man himself, the whole reason that you’ve both found yourselves here in this situation.

Jungwoo’s hands move to your tits, pushing them together, massaging them. You sigh and lift your chest into the delicate heat of his hands, spreading your legs just a little as the tingling between them reaches a new level.

“Please,” You whine. “I’ve been thinking about you both all day. Just wanna have you both.”

“And you’ve been so good.” Jungwoo leans over you, presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re so wet, and you haven’t even touched yourself. Just had the one orgasm. Good girl. You just wanted to make our Xuxi feel good, didn’t you?”

Lucas moans, and when you tear your gaze away from Jungwoo to look at him, you see Lucas stroking his cock.

“I still just want to make him feel good. Look at him, Jungwoo. How could I not want to make him feel good?” You bite your lip and sit up. Jungwoo lets you move, holding you still against his chest.

“And what about you, sweetness?”

Jungwoo’s lips move over your bare shoulder, his tongue swiping lightly, and then you feel the prick of his fangs.

“This isn’t about me.” You sigh, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Lucas’s venom still trickles through you, and now as Jungwoo latches onto your shoulder, you feel his venom flushing through your veins as well. Your eyes flutter, body warming; you can feel your wetness dripping out of you onto the bedsheets.

Jungwoo sucks at your shoulder and Lucas’s fingers drift to your ankle, your calf, when he reaches your knee, Jungwoo pulls away from your skin and hisses, his fangs on full display and his eyes burning red.

Lucas withdraws, but that doesn’t matter because Jungwoo moves out from behind you, lithely pushing over Lucas, his hand on the wolf’s throat.

“Listen,” Jungwoo hisses. “You’re going to listen to us. She’s mine to touch now. I let you have your turn, but this right now isn’t about her. Not for you anyway.” He reaches down and cups Lucas’s balls in his hand. You shift forward to better see as Lucas whimpers, and that sound shoots straight to your belly. You remember Jungwoo’s words from earlier about getting Lucas to let you call him slut and bite him as you’d once tried to do to Jungwoo.

Seeing him now, like this beneath Jungwoo, all wide eyed and submissive, you fight the urge to coo at him and baby him. Still all you want is to make him feel good, but if you were to bite him and make him wait to cum….

Jungwoo dips forward and kisses Lucas again. And then you see Jungwoo’s hand on Lucas moving lower, and he presses a single finger inside Lucas’s tight opening.

“Ah, Jungwoo,” Lucas moans.

“You like that, pup?” Jungwoo asks, kissing Lucas’s jaw, and then he kisses right against the pulse point under his jaw. “You want to be stuffed full by my cock? God, in my dreams you’re always begging for it.”

“Fuck, yeah.” Lucas rolls his hips up. “Please, Jungwoo. I never thought— I always imagined—“

You slide down the bed, touch your hand to Lucas’s cheek, and turn his face toward you. “Be a good little slut for Jungwoo, Xuxi. Sweet boy, you look so desperate for him already, and he’s only got one finger inside you. Do you want more?”

Lucas nods and whines a little. You look at Jungwoo, and his eyes are aglow with lust, aroused even more as he watches you with Lucas like this.

Lucas brings your attention back to him when he whispers your name. “Kiss me,” he pleads.

You can’t deny him a thing. The warm manly smell of him fills your nose, and he tastes so sweet, kissing you with just as much passion and hunger as you pour into it.

Jungwoo’s hand moves up the back of your thigh, and when you feel him swat lazily against your ass, you moan into the kiss. Lucas groans and growls, breaking the kiss for just a second to swear at Jungwoo. You pull him back in, muffling your own pleased sound as Jungwoo’s fingers dip between your legs.

“You’re both so wet for me. Lu, dripping against your belly, and taking my fingers so well. And, sunshine, you’re soaked.” He slicks three fingers up between your legs, running them back and forth through your folds, against your clit. “Wish I could fuck you both at the same time.”

You wish he could too. You crave feeling your pussy filled. Lucas’s tongue brought you to a great orgasm, but it’s not as good as coming apart on a big cock. On Jungwoo’s cock.

“Listen.” Jungwoo says.

When neither you or Lucas moves to break the kiss, you receive a sharp smack on the bottom.

“Listen to me and look at me.” Jungwoo commands. As soon as he’s got both of your attentions, he continues, “I’m gonna work Lucas open so I can finally be inside you.” Lucas closes his eyes and hums, rolls his hips down against Jungwoo’s two fingers curled inside him, and then he opens his eyes again. Jungwoo smirks and then looks at you. “And just so you don’t feel left out, I want you to ride him. Give him the best orgasm we can.”

Jungwoo’s hand massages your ass again, and you moan, nod at him. “Yeah, Jungwoo.”

And then his fingers slide right inside your pussy, fingering you exactly the same as he fingers Lucas’s ass. Lucas makes the most beautiful helpless moans, and you watch as his cock jumps and leaks precum onto his abs, working himself down on Jungwoo’s fingers and moans your boyfriend’s name.

You caress Lucas’s cheek, lean close to kiss him, but then Jungwoo hooks his fingers inside you pressing right against your G-spot and swirling his thumb on your clit. “No, sunshine.”

Your thighs feel absolutely wet, and you clench around his fingers wishing you were fuller. You drop your head to Lucas’s chest, moaning and mouthing at his skin, and when Jungwoo’s shifts the way he’s touching you, you shift with him, throw a leg over Lucas’s waist and settle over him.

Jungwoo’s fingers leave you, and you press yourself down against Lucas, slide your wetness over his hard length. Your eyes flutter shut, lips brushing his throat as your breath sighs out, and then you feel the familiar cool touch of your boyfriend’s hand on your hip, on your ass.

“Sweet girl, you’re going to look so pretty with our Lucas inside you.” Jungwoo coos, and Lucas moans, bucking up against you. “And you’re going to cum so much inside her, won’t you. Gonna cum so hard with me inside you, right, Xuxi?”

The sweet sound of his whimpers turns you on even more.

And then you feel Jungwoo’s hand, slipping down over your wetness, and then Lucas’s tip glides up and down, guided by Jungwoo, before filling you in one smooth stroke.

“Oh, fuck, Lucas!” You moan, bouncing back to get him as deep as he can go, and even then you’re not surprised to find that there’s still more, which you feel Jungwoo taking care of, his fingers circled around Lucas’s cock, jerking up from his balls to your pussy. This is greater than the first time, hitting in different spots, and you’re so much more turned on this time.

A growl rumbles in his chest, a possessive sound as he rocks his hips up. “Feels so good. She’s so fucking wet, Jungwoo. So warm and soft, and she smells so good. Can you smell her?”

He touches your hair, lifting a section of it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“Yes,” Jungwoo’s voice is soft but so dominant. He leans low, pressing his chest against your back, his nose touches your shoulder and a second later you feel his lips. “She always smells so sweet.”

You moan, and push yourself up, your hands planted on Lucas’s chest so you can look down at him. He attempts to follow you up, but you put a hand on his throat.

His eyes flash golden and he grins, tilting his chin up to give you better access to his throat. Your fingers look small against his throat, and though your know your human fingers are frail and powerless against his werewolf strength, you still feel powerful in this position.

“Sexy,” Jungwoo whispers, smacking a kiss to your shoulder.

And you feel that. Sexy. Powerful. Desired and loved and adored. In control.

When you start riding Lucas, slowly movements on his cock, rolling your hips and grinding down on him in teasing circles, his hands fly to your hips and hold on tight enough to bruise. His hands are so large, spanning enough distance that when he spreads out his fingers his thumb easily reaches your clit, rubbing it in time with your rolling hips, and you feel Jungwoo moving behind you, hear Lucas’s breaths—the sighs, moans, quiet whines and all those beautiful sounds—as Jungwoo continues touching him, getting him nice and ready for Jungwoo to finally fuck him.

You can’t wait for that bit. Ever since Jungwoo admitted to you the contents of his dream, you’d fantasized about it. The way he had described everything to you was in such vivid detail, and although now isn’t an exact replica of his dream, you’re beginning to notice similarities that Jungwoo has orchestrated.

When you reach a hand back, your hand finds Jungwoo erect and he hisses, and his mouth lays over your shoulder and his teeth scratch against your skin. He rolls his hips into your touch.

You wrap your fingers around him, jerk him slowly. His fangs dig in deeper until you feel the sharp searing heat, the burst of pleasure as he breaks skin and his venom floods into your veins.

You gasp, going still on Lucas’s cock, your fingers around his throat flexing subconsciously. Jungwoo wraps one arm around your waist and then a moment later, the other, holding you tightly as he presses up and drinks.

And then Lucas breaks your hold on his throat, twists your wrist and his canines dog into your wrist, his tongue lapping sweetly over the wounds, tasting you, feeding you more intoxicatingly euphoric venom.

Your orgasm is uncontrollable. You feel it as if it is forcibly ripped through you, one second just a relatively near possibility and then suddenly it’s crashing over you, a tidal wave of pleasure rendering you incapable of anything else.

Moans and cries of their names, of “oh god” and “sweet hell”. You feel as if your vagina is trying to suck Lucas in deeper, clenching and pulsing.

He sits up and looses his grip on your wrist in favor of nosing in beside Jungwoo. You feel their hair brushing your cheek, jaw, throat. Jungwoo lets out a sound like a growl and then a moan, and then there’s a wet sound and your body is just overwhelmed, vibrating from the pleasure. You’re grateful for Jungwoo’s arms around you, for the two of them squeezing your body between theirs otherwise you would likely collapse.

You whine, shrug your shoulder, and they both instantly fall away.

Lucas slumps back down to the bed, his eyes a golden glow and he licks his lips clean. Jungwoo’s arms loosen, fingers trailing down your body as he moves his attention again to Lucas.

Still fully seated on Lucas’s hard cock, you lay forward, your head on his shoulder. You turn your head, body buzzing and weak and still so enormously turned on. You nip at his throat, place a kiss there and lift your head to kiss his lips again.

He moans softly, cock twitching inside you, and you think nothing of it really. But when he groans and pulls back with a quiet yelp and a swear paired with Jungwoo’s name, you get an idea of what’s happening.

“Shh, baby,” You touch his cheek, kiss him softly. “Relax. You’re gonna feel so good.”

Lucas drops his head back, his eyes already going a little dazed. But when you circle your hips, clench a bit around his cock, he moans for you.

“Keep doing that, angel.” Jungwoo tells you, his hand laying flat on your tailbone. “He’s relaxing. Still so tight though, Lucas. Relax, pup. Haven’t you done this before?”

“Only a few times. It’s been a while.” Lucas grunts. You kiss him gently, just a peck. “Had to distract myself from you somehow. None of them were like you, though. None as big.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Jungwoo moans and he pushes the rest of the way in. Lucas’s hips jump, fitting deep inside you again. “Feel so good, Xuxi. Just a bit more…”

Lucas throws his head back and a nervous yet delighted laugh breaks through him. He holds perfectly still other than the laughter, and you know he’s adjusting, and it only takes him a moment or two before he’s breathing normally again, biting his bottom lip and letting a soft moan slip out as he cautiously makes the first move, thrusting up into you, then dropping his hips back onto Jungwoo.

“Good?” You ask him, stroking his hair.

Lucas nods. “Good. I’ve done it before but none of them prepped me so good. This is like— oh shit!” He laughs out a moan again, reaching up to cover his mouth. “This is like something entirely new. That right there!” He moans and you feel him leaking precum inside you, a warm presence in your belly. “Oh, fuck, that’s it, Jungwoo!”

Jungwoo moans too, and it’s then that the rhythm of their thrusts pick up. You don’t move, don’t do anything more than press your lips down against Lucas’s and kiss him while your boyfriend fucks him up into you.

You swallow all of his moans, suck his tongue into your mouth, and Lucas hungrily chases your lips as you try to pull back for air.

These two make your breathless—your vampire, your werewolf—and yet you don’t think you can ever have enough of them. If they were to steal the very breath from your lungs, you wouldn’t mind as long as they were there with you.

Lucas’s cock twitches, blurting precum inside you, making your pussy an absolute mess of your cum and wetness and all.

And then he starts bucking his hips up recklessly, pushing back to meet Jungwoo’s thrusts. He whines and kisses you so hungrily and deeply, his breath hiccuping when your mouth isn’t on his.

When you look down at his face, his cheeks are flushed, his pupils are large dark circles lined thinly with gold. He looks so debauched and you love the sight, it brings back that urge from earlier, to tease him and make him crumble, you want him to feel submissive to you.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungwoo groans, slapping a hand against Lucas’s thigh as he drives his cock in deep, forcing Lucas deep inside you as well. “God, I can feel you getting close. You like this, pup?”

Lucas whines, and you can’t take anymore of it. You want to be the one to make him whine like that, to get him so undone.

“Are you gonna cum for us, Lucas? God, please I want to feel you cum for me. Cum inside me, baby.” You murmur the words right against his lips, raking a hand through his hair, the other with your fingertips pressing against his throat. You feel him swallow hard, his eyes almost look like they’re rolling with pleasure. And you have an idea of exactly what will take him over the edge.

You pull forward, keeping only the tip of him inside you, and you feel Jungwoo’s hand moving accordingly, jerking every inch of Lucas that isn’t inside you.

The smacking sound of Jungwoo’s hips against Lucas’s ass, the soft squelching sound of Lucas’s cock moving inside your wetness and Jungwoo moving inside of him, they all fade away as you lean in, your lips beside Lucas’s ear as you moan softly and beg quietly, “Fill me up, Lucas. Breed me.”

The guttural mix of a growl and moan that tears from his lips is unlike anything you’ve heard before.

Jungwoo’s hand flies over Lucas’s cock, you clench your pussy around his tip, and just like that he lets loose.

He lets loose a flood of cum, rocking up into your pussy, jets of his warm cum shoot deep inside you. Jungwoo keeps thrusting, keeps touching him, and pours out praises and sounds of his own. And it just keeps coming, hot and thick, and it’s that—Lucas orgasming inside you—that carries you into your own. Lucas growls and keeps fucking into you while throwing himself back onto Jungwoo, pushing more and more of his cum into you until you can’t take it anymore and it’s leaking out of you.

You hear Jungwoo’s moan as he cums at last, pulling out of Lucas quickly and his cums lays in stripes over your ass and Lucas’s abdomen, joining the mess already there.

You pull away and flop over onto your back with a whine as both of them turn their eyes on you, ready for more, but you wave your hand at them, at both of their still-erect dicks.

“Keep going. Have fun. I’m too sensitive and exhausted. I’ll just watch.” You close your eyes, suddenly so heavy you almost open them again. “Enjoy each other like you know you want to.”

They don’t wait for more.

You hear the crash of their bodies together, mouths and hips colliding, the air in the room feels electric, and they almost sound as if they’re growling at each other as they kiss. Teeth tear at each other, hands scratch over skin, and Jungwoo pushes into Lucas again, wild and powerful now that neither of them are worried about you between them.

Jungwoo’s hand goes to Lucas’s cock, flying fast and fucking into him just as quick.

The bed creaks, the headboard cracking against the wall. Lucas grabs Jungwoo by the back of the neck, and pulls him into a deep kiss as he cums apart again, shooting his load all over himself, and Jungwoo keeps going until Lucas is whimpering and twitching, muscles going loose and just truly letting go all over himself.

Jungwoo collapses forward, his forehead pressed to Lucas’s shoulder with a pleased sigh and a gentle kiss. He whispers something too quiet for you to make out, but Lucas’s fingers twitch at the small of Jungwoo’s back and he makes a happy hum.

Then Jungwoo’s looking at you, and your boyfriend looks so satisfied, so fucked out. He smiles and then all at once he’s beside you, gathering you into his arms and you feel so small and protected. He traces your cheeks and your nose and then pushes some of your hair back behind your ear.

“Hi, angel. How was that? Good?” He checks with you.

You nod. “So good. Loved it. I love you.”

When you feel Lucas shifting around, moving as if to leave the bed, you throw your arm over, slapping him in the chest. He stops moving.

“Stay.” You tell him. “Where do you think you’re going? Like, just to be clear this wasn’t just another one time thing. I don’t want it to be anyway. You both clearly enjoyed yourselves with each other. I enjoyed myself with both of you. Stay here, Lucas.”

“Was just gonna go clean up.” Lucas grins, gesturing down at his torso covered in all of your combined fluids. “But if you want to come cuddle me while I’m all a mess like this, then by all means…” He opens his arms.

Jungwoo snorts, tucks his face against your neck and reaches over to push at Lucas. “Go shower, Xuxi. We’ll be here when you get back.” He makes a happy noise when Lucas gets out of bed, his back facing the two of you. “God, I love his ass. I think you should give it a try sometime, sunshine.” He kisses your throat. “It’s so good.”

Your mind sparks at the thought of you taking Lucas apart with just your fingers in his ass, or maybe a strap on to fuck him with. You blush and stroke Jungwoo’s head, trying to push down your already rising arousal.

For now, you need just a short break.

The next few days are lost in a blur of sexual haze. You feel like you barely leave the bedroom, constantly tangled with Jungwoo and Lucas. Sometimes you’ll wake with Jungwoo’s head between your thighs, sometimes Lucas will tease you awake with his fingers or his mouth on your breasts. You’ve watched them roll around in bed, fucking and kissing with the sheer brutal strength of their supernatural abilities. You’ve had them both inside you, fucking you full until you’re sore and exhausted. Dozens of different positions, sometimes the three of you or only two or even just one of you touching yourselves while the other two just watch in satiated bliss.

By the time that you finally break free of the cloud of lust, you stumble into the bathroom while Lucas and Jungwoo stay cuddled together in bed. It’s not the first time you’ve come in here over the past few days, but it is the first time you’re unaccompanied, not distracted by wandering hands that pull you into the shower or onto the edge of the tub.

So now, without the distraction of the two men, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You look absolutely fucked. Your hair is a tangled mess, sticking out in odd directions, laying sort of flat in some places. Your eyes shine oddly and a faint headache throbs in the back of your head, beating in time with your heart, worsening when you glance at the bright sunlight coming through the bathroom window. And there are bruises and bite marks littered across your shoulders, throat, chest, and thighs. There’s even dried blood where your neck meets your shoulder. You touch it and find that the skin beneath is tender. Your throat burns and you sit down on the cool tile, close your eyes and try to rid yourself of the sudden nausea.

Lucas is the one who finds you like that.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, touching a warm hand to your forehead. “Baby?”

“I’m fine. I just got a good look at myself and I think it scared me.” You open your eyes and look up at him crouched beside you. “Is Jungwoo still asleep?”

He shakes his head. “He says he’s going out to catch us some fresh fish. Maybe some shark.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Lucas grins and laughs, reaches out to tuck some of your hair back into place. “Well we need to eat. You more than most. I’m sure we’ve taken it all out of you, that’s probably why you’re sitting here feeling unwell. You’ve barely eaten over the last few days.”

As if in reply, your stomach gargles hungrily.

“Come on. Upsy daisy.” Lucas helps you to your feet, and he goes to shower while you use the toilet and brush your teeth. By the time the pair of you emerge out onto the beach, Jungwoo’s walking back up the sand toward the house, dragging a small shark behind him.

“Good morning.” He calls out to you both. “I caught breakfast.”

You wished he was joking.

The boys start a fire, Lucas preps the shark and cooks it over the fire, and Jungwoo then watches while the pair of you eat. You’re not out there for long before you drag yourself back inside, tired and hot and still feeling a bit unwell.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Jungwoo asks a few hours later, crawling into the nest you’ve made on the sofa. His cool hands feel glorious on your skin. “If you’re sick, we should leave, get you home. Neither Xuxi or I has any medical expertise.”

You’re reluctant to agree with him. You don’t want to leave. This island is paradise, it is heaven. The perfect place for you to be at liberty to enjoy your two monsters, to be ravished and ravaged by them day or night without fear of being walked in on or judged by the rest of the coven and the pack.

In the end, it’s not your decision.

“Come on, angel.” Jungwoo speaks softly, and by the time you’re actually awake, he’s already got you lifted in his arms, his cheek against your forehead. You’re halfway down the beach, halfway to the boat where Lucas is already waiting, all of your luggage safely stowed inside.

“No,” you complain half-heartedly. “I’m fine. We don’t have to leave yet.”

But neither of them listen to you, and you understand because a moment after Lucas drives the boat away from the shore, you slip back asleep again.

You wake periodically. When the boat arrives at the dock of the small island where you had all set out from. You wake when Jungwoo passes you over to Lucas to hold in the back of the tiny shaky plane. They wake you to eat and drink something, keep you awake until you’re on the next plane and then for the next flight.

Each time you wake you’re cradled by one of them, and once when you open your eyes it’s night time and you’re on a larger plane, probably flying back home at last. All of the other passengers appear to be asleep, and you can hear Lucas’s heartbeat under your ear, feel Jungwoo’s fingers twisted with yours, and they’re having a quiet conversation over you.

“I’m worried.” Jungwoo’s saying, stroking the back of your hand. “Why is she still sleeping? Did we do something wrong?”

“No, nothing. It’s probably just a cold or something. We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry, Jungwoo.”

You drift off again only to be shaken awake to get off the plane, and as soon as you’re walking through the airport you start to feel yourself coming back, being more aware of everything than you’ve been since you woke up the previous morning now. Everything is so loud, and you start noticing all the people, some of them looking at you quite strangely.

Your head still aches and your mouth is dry. You pray you’ve not somehow contracted some strange disease from that island.

“We’ll get you home to Doyoung.” Jungwoo tells you. “He’ll know what to do.”

“Can we get something to eat? I’m starving.” You yawn, eyeing the food options as you pass through the airport.

Jungwoo runs a worried hand over your cheek. “Of course, sunshine. What are you hungry for?”

You squint at the places, reading menus and choices, but nothing seems appealing. “I’m not sure.” But there’s something that smells delicious and you look around for it, lifting your nose to inhale deeper. It smells sugary and nutty and your mouth waters. “This way.”

Lucas and Jungwoo follow as you start leading the way, following the delicious smell. Even when you notice that there are less of the shops over here, you follow the smell until you come to stand near an area where a woman stands alone in the doorway of a bathroom, digging through her purse with one hand.

“Baby, there’s nothing over here—“ Lucas says.

“Oh, shit.” Jungwoo swears.

At the same moment all three of you make the same realizations.

First, there are no more of the food stands in this area. And second, that woman is bleeding from a gash on her arm.

Jungwoo grabs at you, his hands not quite quick enough as you lunge, unable to hold yourself back at the sight and smell before you: sweet and nutty and warm, fresh blood.

You remember a time shortly after Jungwoo finally told you his story. A lazy afternoon at the coven’s house when you’d laid out in the sunlight on Jungwoo’s bedroom floor while he hid in the bed and watched you sun yourself like a cat.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, all of your bare skin exposed to the sunlight, dressed only in a bra and panties. And slowly, as the sun creeps across his bedroom, the shadows slinking closer and closer to your spot on the floor, Jungwoo moves as well. Soon he’s on the edge of the bed, then on the floor, inching forward as the light moves.

Soon he’s laying on the floor too, separated from you by only a few inches of sunlight, and he’s facing you, his deep eyes gazing right into yours. After a few minutes of this, Jungwoo breaks the silence to ask, “What are you thinking about?”

You don’t answer at first, holding that silence there as a safety cushion between your whirlwind of emotions and reality. But Jungwoo looks so curious, and his gaze draws the words right out of you.

“I don’t want to be just another name for you.” You turn your gaze up to the ceiling.

You feel Jungwoo’s fingers skating close to you, not touching you just yet, still held back by the sunlight. “What do you mean by that, angel?”

“You have a long past, Jungwoo.” You close your eyes, feel the gentle heat of the sun’s fading light. “Many, many names of people you’ve been with, people you’ve loved. I don’t want to someday just be another one of those.” You want to be his forever, but somehow you can’t make yourself say that.

His fingers close coolly around your wrist, and he tugs. Your body slides easily across the floor, brought in against Jungwoo’s chest and he wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“I love you. I genuinely love you the most of anyone that I have ever loved.” Jungwoo tells you. “The first moment I saw you, it was like I knew that I loved you, that I will love you entirely forever. Always.”

And though you always try to forget about it, to not think about Jungwoo’s life continuing for long after your own, right now the thought plagues you. “We don’t have always, though.”

Jungwoo holds you closer, absorbing the sun-heat of your skin into his own, and he stays quiet. What words could he possibly say then? Did you expect him to offer you eternal life, a bite that would make you like him? Is that even something that you would want—trading eternal life for blood-drinking and never again feeling the sun on your skin, never again being free as you are now? Or did you expect him to placate you with sweet words about you being his forever, never loving another after you?

“You smell so warm.” Jungwoo’s voice is scarcely more than a whisper. “Feel so soft. If I could have you like this forever, my angel, I would be the happiest monster to exist.”

But forever cannot be like this: a human and a vampire. Only a human and a vampire, then a ghost or a memory and the vampire who once held you.

From that moment on, in the back of your mind, you hold that wonder, that possibility or dream or hope that maybe someday Jungwoo would give you that bite to make a promise of forever come true.

When you wake hours or days later, your entire body aches. You feel as if your bones are bruised, your skin feels sensitive even though you’ve not even moved, and even when you just hear a quiet noise nearby you want to roll over and muffle your head under a pillow except the thought of actually moving to do so has your muscles throbbing. Even through your eyelids, you can tell the world is bright, glowing reddish but you are so reluctant to lift your heavy eyelids.

When you actually open your eyes, you’re surprised to see Ten sitting there in front of you. His eyes are closed and he’s holding your hand.

At first you think he’s asleep, but then you realize that his mouth is moving almost imperceptibly, chanting words under his breath. Your vision shimmers, barely-there golden lines zig zag and cross in beautiful whorls and patterns over your skin. He’s casting some kind of spell.

You soon notice Jisung and YangYang, the other two witches are sitting behind Ten, their brows drawn together in equal concentration.

“What’s going on?” You ask, and your voice comes out in a horrible rasp. “What happened?”

The door bangs open, and you turn to look, expecting Jungwoo. Your whole body flares with pain, and all you have time to see is a mass of dark brown hair, and then Lucas is over top of you, his face buried against your neck, his hands cradling your head.

He’s so warm, wrapping you in his body heat and that comfortable smell of ginger and cinnamon and now something citrusy as well. Despite the aches of your body, the protests of your muscles, you press into Lucas’s welcoming touch, your cheek against his hair.

“Xuxi,” you sigh, “What’s happened? Where’s Jungwoo?”

Distantly, you notice Ten letting go of your hand. Lucas goes still and sits up a bit so he can meet your eyes.

“Do you really not remember?”

“What?” You frown. Last thing you clearly remember was being on the airplane, getting off the plane was a bit fuzzy and most after that was just gone. “Tell me. Someone tell me?” You look over at the trio of witches. Jisung and YangYang avoid eye contact, looking everywhere and anywhere else.

Lucas’s fingers tenderly brush your throat. “We were a bit careless on the island, you know? Sometimes we let our instincts get the better of us.”

You feel his touch lightly trace down over your shoulder where he bit you deepest. You can still feel the slight scar tissue indentations from his teeth, but they’re healing.

“We perhaps bit you too much.” Lucas says. “And when you weren’t feeling well that last day, I think Jungwoo was just really worried about you, he wasn’t cautious or thinking much at all about how much of his venom was in your veins, nor the effect that it would have on you. Do you really not remember what happened in the airport when we landed back here?”

You reach up, grabbing at his wrist until Lucas pulls his hand away. “Where is Jungwoo? Stop avoiding the answers I’m asking for, and just tell me. What happened?”

“Jungwoo’s okay, don’t worry about that.” Lucas soothes you, stroking your hair placatingly. “He’s just hiding in the library because he’s worried and blaming himself.”

“Blaming himself for what?”

“You need to relax. Take it easy.” Ten waves his hands at you. Behind him YangYang and Jisung leave the room. “Lucas, stop being an ass. I’ll tell her.”

You level your gaze on Ten.

“You had so much vampire venom in your veins it’s a wonder you didn’t just spontaneously turn into a vampire.” He says. “You had a fair amount of werewolf venom too, and you’re lucky you’ve still got another three days until the full moon otherwise you’d be feeling a bit more, uh, canine-ish right about now. But judging by what they told us when they dragged you into the house, you only attacked once there was fresh blood in the open air around you.”

Suddenly you’re all too aware of how sensitive you are right now, how thirsty, how good Lucas smells to you, almost better than normal.

Your voice seems to abandon you as you rasp out, “Am I a vampire now?”

Both Ten and Lucas look at each other and then back at you. A knot of tension grows in your belly. In these few moments of silence your mind divides itself, exploring two different paths. One, you as a vampire, living your eternal life with Jungwoo and even with Lucas, bound to the night. Or two, a life where you’re still human, where you can live in the day time and see all the sunrises and sunsets, where you can enjoy simple pleasures like seeing yourself in the mirror or eating and drinking, feeling a cool breeze, or the heat of a blush spreading through you as your lover touches you.

In that moment, you’re not sure what you would like the answer to be.

“Well?” You prompt them both.

The bedroom door opens before they answer, and there stands Jungwoo. His expressions reads like a kicked puppy. Doyoung stands behind them, his face serious and revealing nothing, and he gently pushes Jungwoo through the door. Before the door closes behind him, Ten slips out as quick as he can, leaving with Doyoung so you can be alone with Jungwoo and Lucas again.

“Jungwoo!” You sigh, reaching for him, your heart aching to hold him close.

He falls into your arms, pushing you flat into the bed, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deeply.

“You’re not a vampire, angel. Fuck, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you were, if it was my fault that you became a monster like me.” His words are muffled, cool against your skin. “Unforgivable.”

You bury your face against his shoulder as well, wrapping your limbs all around him. “I would forgive you, Jungwoo. I would even thank you.”

“Don’t say that.” He whines, and he pulls his face away, rolling over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. “Shit, it’s all my fault. All of this. Every part of this was foolish, reckless, entirely careless with your humanity.”

Lucas sits there watching the pair of you, his attention more set on Jungwoo now.

You sit up, and the world wavers just a little bit, but you steady yourself with a hand on Jungwoo’s unmoving chest.

He stares up at you, eyes perfectly black. “What?”

“Jungwoo, you fool.” You tap your fingers over his unbeating heart. “How many times have I got to tell you, you’re not a monster. Lucas would agree with me I’m sure. You’re sweet and tender, radiant and kind. You are not a monster, and if I could be anything like you I would be grateful. If I could be a vampire as well, spend eternal life with you even if it means drinking Lucas’s blood every day and sitting inside from sun up until sun down, only having the stars and moon without the sun. Jungwoo, you would be my Sun in this dark, dark world.” You put your hands to his cheeks, and tell him, “I want forever with you, no matter the cost. Turn me, let me be like you.”

He whines, twisting his face away. You feel Lucas’s broad warm hands on your hips, pulling you back a bit, lifting you from Jungwoo’s lap and back into his own. Jungwoo covers his face with his arms, mumbling denials and something about curses and Twilight.

Lucas presses his lips against the side of your head. “You should have seen how panicked he was at the airport. We caught you before you could reach that woman. If you’d even so much as taken a drop of her blood, there would have been no turning back. We’re actually really lucky that drinking werewolf blood won’t turn you into a vampire, now that I think about it. And then you were clawing, scratching, trying to bite at us. Jungwoo calmed you down by using some vampire charming thingy he does. But then he panicked while I helped you out to the car, and as soon as we were back here he shouted at everyone, made them all come help. The witches have been here at your bedside ever since, casting spells to purge your system of all the venoms. Sorry about that.”

His lips are hot against your shoulder, and your skin is so sensitive that it almost tickles.

“You don’t need to apologize. Neither of you do. I’ve been around all of you for long enough that the idea of being a vampire or a werewolf or any of that stuff doesn’t bother me or freak me out. All of you manage just fine, you’ve shown me that not all of the monsters are monstrous. Even being a witch seems amazing, like from what I’ve seen, the intricacies of the spells is fascinating, and the little visible traces of spellwork really show how talented Ten is.”

Jungwoo sits up, cocks his head slightly to the side, and just stares at you.

You sigh. “Jungwoo, I’m sorry, but I think you need to accept by now that I have kind of completely surrounded myself in this supernatural community, and wanting to be a part of it myself is not abnormal. It’s probably super normal especially considering the relationship I’ve found myself in with two members of the community.”

Lucas, oddly at that moment, sniffs your shoulder. You flinch.

“What are you doing?” You try to twist around.

“Sunshine,” Jungwoo holds up his hand, his ring on his finger right before your eyes. “What does my ring look like to you, in detail.”

You frown at him. “That’s a stupid question and completely off topic, too. We’re talking about you turning me into a vampire.”

“Answer him.” Lucas’s voice drops low, rumbling through his chest against your back.

“It’s black.” You shrug. “A black ring. Why?”

Jungwoo ever so slightly relaxes, and Lucas releases his hold on your hips that you hadn’t realized was so tight before. Both of their reactions are suspicious, and neither of them answer you, so you continue.

“And, like, it’s got all those fine little silver lines on it.” You reach out quickly to grab Jungwoo’s hand, holding his ring up so it catches the light. “I guess those are like the physical manifestation of Ten’s spell, right? Because it looks really complicated, not as easy to look at as the bracelet’s you wolves wear.” You tap at Lucas’s wrist with your other hand, the finely wrought bracelet that matches the one Jaehyun and the others wear. “Or those sigils he’s drawn on the windows and doorways. And all of those are definitely neater than YangYang’s messy scrawl.”

Lucas’s hands on you suddenly move you off, flipping you over so you’re on your back again, both of the boys looking down at you.

“What was that for?” You groan, trying to quell the nausea suddenly blooming in your belly at that sudden motion. You squeeze your eyes shut until you feel Jungwoo’s hand on your cheek, his fingertips ranging up into your hair, fine points of coolness against your temple.

It’s Lucas who answers, his voice low and gentle, drawing your attention to his face as he says, “Are you a witch?”

“What?” You sit up so quickly that your vision flickers and you almost crack your forehead against Lucas’s. “No, I’m not a witch. Don’t you think I would know? That I would’ve said something before now?”

Jungwoo takes your hand then and lifts it to his lips, the tip of his nose against the back of your hand, and he breathes in deeply.

“I’m not a witch. Don’t be silly.” You pull your hand away.

“No,” Lucas laughs humorlessly. “You just see the marks left behind by magic spells. Not witchy at all.”

Jungwoo shakes his head, and then he lifts a hand to cradle your cheek, tuck a few strands of hair back from your face. “I knew there was something that drew us together that night.”

You shake your head in denial. “I’m not a witch. I would know. Ten’s told me before that witches would have manifested their powers by now. Maybe I’m just, like, I don’t know, sensitive to magic or something like that. And stop sniffing me!” You shrug away from Jungwoo and Licas, trying to slide off the bed, but as soon as you stand up the world wavers with big black spots across your vision.

“Woah, careful, babe.” Lucas’s arms wrap around you, drawing you back into bed. “Just lay here, okay?”

Jungwoo shifts around and you make yourself comfortable against him.

Lucas doesn’t join you, he just looks down at the pair of you, and when he turns to leave you whine loudly. “Don’t go! You’re not leaving me—not leaving us, Lucas. You’re part of this now, if that trip taught me anything it’s that I definitely want you both. So come cuddle.”

A happy, dopey grin tilts his lips. “Okay.”

“Ah, Wait.” Jungwoo holds up a finger. “Can you close the curtains first? And let’s watch a movie.” He touches your hair, petting it back from your face, and he asks, “What do you want to watch?”

You think for a moment, then you smile and look between the two of your boys. “Have either of you seen all of the Twilight movies?”

Jungwoo groans, cursing the series under his breath, but Lucas barks out a laugh and hops into motion.

After missing out on two weeks of classes, your return to campus is odd and full of excuses. You lie to all of your professors that you were actually in the hospital with an illness (featuring a manufactured Doctor’s note signed by Taeil who apparently at some point in his long life got his doctorate and is technically a certified physician), and you lie to all of your classmates and acquaintances in the same way.

It’s actually your roommates that are truly the issue.

When you walk in the door of your apartment, shivering and just craving a nice warm shower, you find both of the girls curled together under a blanket on the sofa eating ramen as they watch some reality show.

“Oh, look. She does still live here.” One of them says.

“Of course I do.” You kick your shoes off beside the door. “I told you I was going on a trip. We were gone for a bit longer than I expected.”

Both of them exchange a look. You spot a set of eyes rolling, and then the petulant, “Sure because you were around so much before you left on this trip? You’ve barely been around since November. It’s like you’re paying for a storage facility, not a place to stay. Why do you even still live here?”

Her words, although true, are like a punch to the gut. Both of your roommates stare at you with barely concealed dislike, and you’re not sure when their moods suddenly turned. You used to be such good friends with both of them, but now it seems that they’ve created a closer bond than you realized and now you’re shut out.

You turn to your room without another word, shutting the door perhaps a bit harder than necessary.

They have a point. You don’t really live here anymore. All your time is spent with Jungwoo and Lucas, you’ve spent most nights at the coven’s house, only coming home to change clothes or get a few hours away to concentrate on schoolwork.

You dump your books onto your bed, emptying out the bag you carry at school, and instead you stuff a few outfits, phone charger, your laptop, the necessary things, and then you leave without another word to your roommates.

By the time the bus drops you off in front of the house, the cold wind whips through the street, strengthening as a late winter storm blows in, already spitting tiny flecks of ice. The house is quiet as you step inside. The rooms are all dark, and you spot Doyoung’s coffin in the middle of the living room, the lid closed to show that he is actually napping right now. You climb the stairs, pass the quiet doorways of the other vampires, nearly jump out of your skin when you realize that Xiaojun is quietly hanging from a curtain rod over the window at the end of the hallway, nearly blending in with the curtains. He lifts a finger to his lips, but other than that remains completely still.

You keep walking, and at Jungwoo’s door, you pause. Inside you hear a rustle of movement, and there’s something else that makes you hesitate.

Maybe it’s the echo of your roommate’s voice asking you why you even live there, the tone of her voice making you feel so unwelcome in a place that up until a few months ago you had really and truly considered a home. But then you’d met Jungwoo, and it’s only now as you stand outside his doorway that the thought plagues you: what if he doesn’t want you there either.

An odd sound and sense of movement behind you startles you out of your thoughts. The floor creaking as if there are quick footsteps rushing down the hallway, an eerie giggling. You push through Jungwoo’s door without a second thought, just wanting to put something between you and whoever is playing in the halls.

“Oh, sorry.” You freeze at the sight before you.

Lucas is there.

Jungwoo is halfway on top of him, a leg slotted between Lucas’s thighs, their busy lips pressed together, and Lucas’s hand twisted in Jungwoo’s shirt. They break apart when you speak, though Lucas looks dazed and immediately moves forward again, trying to entice Jungwoo’s mouth back onto his.

“Don’t be sorry.” Jungwoo says, struggling to sit up a bit, and struggling even more to hide his fangs with his lips. “Xuxi, stop for a second.”

He presses Lucas flat with a palm against his chest, and Lucas whines and lifts his hips up against Jungwoo’s leg.

“Angel, everything okay?” Jungwoo reaches his other hand out to you. “You look sad.”

You don’t take his hand, instead you walk around to the other side of his bed and just crawl in, curl up on your side, and drag the blankets up to your chin. Both of the boys look at you, but you just shake your head. “It’s nothing. You can continue, I just wanna take a nap.”

Lucas snorts. “You want me to unleash my horniness with you taking a nap beside us? Come on, just tell us what’s wrong. Jungwoo’s right. You’re clearly upset.”

You sigh heavily into the blanket and close your eyes. You feel the heat of Lucas’s skin just a moment before he actually touches you, his hand covering yours on the blanket. And then you feel Jungwoo moving lightly, his body slinking over yours until he fits himself behind you, wrapping you safely in his arms. He whispers, “What’s the matter, sunshine?”

So you tell him. You tell him about the things your roommates said. You tell him about your feelings that you experienced standing right outside this door. You spill a lot of pent up things that you hadn’t known that you were really feeling until they all come pouring out.

And as soon as you’re done speaking, Jungwoo’s arms squeeze you slightly around the waist and he says, “Move in with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Jungwoo touches his lips to your cheek. “Move in here with me. It’s honestly kind of silly that I haven’t suggested it before, but I thought you were still happy with your living situation, but if you’re not, then you should move in here. I mean, you’re here anyways, and when you’re not I wish you were.”

Lucas knots his fingers with yours. “If it weren’t so dangerous, I would say you could move in at the den.”

“Oh, right, because moving into a house full of vampires is such a safer idea.” You laugh. “Jungwoo, do you mean it? Do you want me to really move in here?”

“I always want you here. I have plenty of room, and I am in love with you, silly. Why wouldn’t I really want you to move in? I’d invite Lucas to move in too if I thought that he would say yes.”

Lucas’s hand slides from yours, moving behind you to touch Jungwoo. “Yeah, I love you lots, but I still want some sense of independence from both of you.” When you look over into his eyes, Lucas’s gaze is deep and penetrating, and he tells you, “I love you. I don’t actually know if I have said those words to you like this, but I want you to know that I am in love with you. With both of you.”

“Aww,” Jungwoo coos. “I love you two too.”

He rolls over, reaching to drag Lucas closer, crushing you between them. You whine and laugh and try and squirm your way free, and when you do both of your boys smile at you, all three of you doped up on love.

When you try to actually break away from them, Lucas wraps his arm around your waist, trying to rope you back in between them. You squirm some more and whine, and it’s only when you tell them that you just want to go take a bath that he finally lets you go.

“Go back to doing what you were doing.” You slip over Lucas’s body, head for the bathroom door. “I’ll be in here if you need anything.”

“Mm, I think we’ll be fine,” Lucas tells you, already drawing Jungwoo back over top of him.

Before you’ve closed the bathroom door behind you, you see their mouths collide again. Some part of you wishes you would’ve stayed to watch, but you know they need their privacy too sometimes. So you draw a nice steamy bath, and sink into the water knowing that someday very soon, you’ll be here with Jungwoo forever.

Moving out from your apartment took probably ten minutes. Your roommates were mildly startled when you opened the door to allow in an entourage of good-looking strong guys. Jungwoo, Lucas, Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Johnny were all there to help you move out.

You’d been packing for a few days, fitting all of your belongings into boxes, finding people to take the furniture you no longer needed since your boyfriend’s place came full furnished already. There wasn’t too much you really needed moved, but Jungwoo insisted that the quicker it was done, the better. Thus, the whole team of them assembled to make carrying your boxes and your bookshelf and things much faster.

It was fortunate your lease was up at the end of the month anyway. And as you found out when you told them that you would be leaving, it was even more fortunate considering they weren’t planning to stay either because they were hoping to move into a smaller place. Because they were dating (and you really weren’t sure when that development had occurred. Had you really been so blind to their lives?). So they wanted a one bedroom.

It all worked out.

Moving in took a little bit longer because your bookshelf didn’t want to fit up the staircase and the young vampires tried to help carry in boxes, but one of them busted open across the front lawn and you had to chase down the scattered clothes in the dark.

By the time it was all said and done, all the boxes and furniture you were keeping was stacked in Jungwoo’s room to be dealt with at a later time, you were hungry and the wolves were hungry, and the vampires all agreed that it was a good night to go out.

The Leaky Cauldron looked nearly the same as the last time you’d seen it. The only difference was the lack of a werewolf presence other than those wolves that had come with you. It seemed a more peaceable atmosphere, but nevertheless you clutched Jungwoo’s hand tightly as you walked inside, flashes of what had happened the last time you were here refused to leave your mind.

“Relax,” Jungwoo murmurs to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you slide into your seat. “We’re safe here. There’s no one left that wishes us any harm.”

Lucas is on Jungwoo’s other side, and he nods as he hears what Jungwoo says. “And if anyone tries to pick a fight with either of you, I’d like to see them get through me.”

Jungwoo snorts a laugh and shoves at Lucas’s shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

They push back and forth a few times until Doyoung glares at them. Everyone places their orders: the vampires order pints of blood to taste, the wolves order their meat cooked rare, and you choose something to drink and something to eat that doesn’t seem so supernaturally-based.

Taeyong and Jaehyun sit across from you, and Jaehyun has his head resting on Taeyong’s shoulder, a wistful look in his eyes. That look reminds you of his story, the one he’d told you on the bus that day you’d decided to go away with Jungwoo and Lucas. It’s the look of a man absolutely smitten. A man who is so in love that he can think of nowhere better than being right there.

You watch them for a while, lost in the cuteness of the way they are with each other, the absolute comfort of the way they fit together. You wonder if you look like that with Jungwoo, with Lucas, all three of you together. You look at them, completely distracted from everything else in wonder of how their future is unlimited. Neither of them will age or wither. They’re both immortal as long as Jaehyun chooses to continue this way. They have absolutely forever.

And you want that.

You want so badly to be someone’s always.

Spring comes and goes. You get used to the pack and the coven changing around you. Sometimes they’re all there, sometimes a few of them will leave for weeks at a time to adventures around the planet. There are an odd few weeks toward the end of the spring semester when the whole coven clears out for a bit, leaving only Ten, Jaehyun, and Lucas behind to keep you any company.

Even Jungwoo leaves.

“They’ll be back.” Lucas tells you, wrapping you up in his arms, stroking his fingers down the length of your spine. You shiver closer to him. “They’ve done this before. It’s a vampire thing.”

You’re glad for his company, keeping you less than lonely in the sheets. You end up sleeping over at the pack’s den several nights. The coven’s mansion is too cold and dark and scary without the vampires occupying all of its silent rooms. The den is completely different: loud, bright, filled with laughter and the warm smells of food and alcohol.

Kun and Jaehyun cook while Lucas and the pups entertain you with games and stories. Mark and Jaemin are always eager to show off their songs they produce in their bedroom studio. Kun even tries to impress you with magic tricks.

And while it is great fun to be entertained by the werewolves who you definitely don’t spend as much time with as the vampires, your favorite entertainment comes in the form of Lucas. Late at night, his bedroom door shut soundly and the night view from his windows lays the city bare as he takes you apart on his fingers, his tongue, fucking you into a moaning mess.

Lucas is insatiable. You’re sure that if he actually fucked you to the point that you passed out from the pleasure, he would keep going. And this night is no different. He’s given you three orgasms already, with short breaks in between for you to suck his cock, but now he’s got you on your hands and knees, looking out at the city lights while he kneels behind you.

“So pretty.” Lucas trails his fingers between your legs, his fingertips gathering up your wetness. You shiver, needing him to just fill you up, give you that fourth orgasm, fill you up with his cum as well. “And you smell so good, baby.”

“Shut up.” You push back, but Lucas pulls his hand away. “Lucas, fuck, please. I know Jungwoo likes this teasing shit, but not me. Not now. I just wanna feel--”

He pushes forward, impaling you with his cock. Your words cut off with a loud moan, and Lucas curls his hand over your mouth, his fingers muffling your sounds as he pushes two of them into your mouth, hooking them against your cheek as he fills your pussy from behind. “Are you going to be loud for me? I love when you moan like this, so rarely do you do it when it’s just one of us.”

Lucas draws back and then snaps his hips forward, pulling his fingers from your mouth to smear the spit over your lips and cheek.

“Fuck,” You moan. “I like it when you’re rougher. Usually you and Jungwoo are only really rough when you’re together for me.”

“Thought you liked me sorta submissive?” He strokes your hair back and leans forward to kiss at your neck. “Thought you liked me best when I’m doing what you and Woo tell me?”

“I like you any way I can have you.” You grunt, sinking back into one of Lucas’s thrusts. “I want you any way for forever. We’ve got it good like this. You, me, Jungwoo.”

Lucas wraps his arms around your upper arms, tugs you up so you’re kneeling with your back against his chest. One hand slides around to grasp at one of your tits and he thrusts rapidly into you, snapping his hips forward, pulling you down onto him until you feel so incredibly full, like his cock is pushing into your guts, pulsing inside you.

“Sweet-smelling angel,” Lucas touches his lips to your ear, and you shiver in his arms, squealing in delight when his fingers drift lower to touch your clit. “Love the way you feel around me. I just wish Jungwoo could be here too, to see how good I’m making you feel. He’d reward me so good, wouldn’t he?”

You grind down on his cock, moaning for him. “He’d fuck you like you’re fucking me, bite you until you’re blissed out, and jerk you off until you’re cumming for him. God, Xuxi, I want you to cum. Love it when you cum in me.”

His hands go tight on you, touching you intensely, pulling that last orgasm from you like he’s taking it right from your soul.

Lucas swears, buries his face against your shoulder as he pulses inside you, spilling his load, and as his teeth prick against your shoulder, you swear it feels like his cock is swelling and filling you even more.

You collapse forward with a moan and Lucas follows, laying his hot, damp chest against your back, his cock still firm inside you. His lips and teeth still catch on your skin. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his venom inside you now.

“Are you trying to turn me, Lucas?” You ask, reaching up to clasp his hand over your chest. “The full moon draws near, I can see it i all of you, the wolf overtaking the man you are.”

“I think Jungwoo would properly murder me if I turned you.” Lucas whispers, his nose drawing a line up your throat. “And I wouldn’t ever dare. I would love eternity with you. Me, you, and Jungwoo for forever sounds ideal. But making you a werewolf for that? Never. This is such a curse, and if I could give it up I would. That reminds me, you should go stay back at the mansion for a few nights, maybe Ten’ll stay with you?”

You squirm to get more comfortable in his arms. “Maybe. Maybe I’d like to see what you’re like as a dog. Bet you’re playful and cuddly. You seem like you’d want to play fetch and hump pillows.”

Lucas nips at your shoulder again. “Hush. Go to sleep. I can feel how sleepy you are.”

You graduate by some miracle at the end of the Spring. The coven returns just in time, and your boyfriends and the wolves and witches stand in the audience and cheer and howl and hoot when your name is called and you walk across the stage for your diploma.

The summer passes in a haze of work: you receive a promotion at your job, working new long hours that leave you exhausted by the time you leave. The summer also brings a brief break between Ten and Johnny; a misunderstanding led to a horrible argument that woke the whole house in the middle of the day, and Ten refused to speak to Johnny for nearly three weeks (but he complained to you about it nearly every day). They mended things once they spoke, and Ten swore he was never leaving Johnny again.

Autumn brought with it warm sweaters, hot drinks, and Jungwoo cradling you against his chest while Lucas napped across Jungwoo’s lap, tucked under his arm. Your one year anniversary comes, and the coven and wolves hold a wild party that lasts from dawn on the 31st until dawn on the first of November. You get ragingly drunk and sugar high, and your ridiculous boyfriends roleplay as doctors and you as the patient.

Winter arrives just the same, cold nights wrapped up warmly with your boys. Days bundled up in coats and scarves, grabbing lunch and coffee with Jungwoo, going ice skating with Lucas, Christmas shopping with the both of them.

A year passes quickly, and Christmas is slightly less wonderously momentous. Ten doesn’t perform any fantastic spells to make a vampire capable of walking in daylight. But, halfway through the evening when everyone’s sitting around opening gifts and playing games, a drunken Jaehyun pulls Taeyong down into his lap, takes his face between his hands and asks him, “Won’t you marry me?” And Taeyong surges forward to kiss him enthusiastically as a yes.

And then, everything is good for a little while until the peacefulness and fun of the year finally winds to a close on New Year’s Eve.

It happens on a night when the rest of the coven is gone. Johnny and Ten keep disappearing off to Ten’s place now that they’re back together, Taeyong and Jaehyun left for a vacation deep into the north where the nights are deep and hunting is fun. The others are out roaming, at the Leaky Cauldron, or over at the pack’s den. And tonight it’s just the three of you on the anniversary of when the three of you started, now cuddled up like this, binge-watching a show while you and Lucas try to explain a few things to Jungwoo who hasn’t ever seen any of the series before.

Jungwoo runs his fingers through your hair while you stroke your thumb along the back of Lucas’s neck. It’s all very comfortable and warm and you lay your head back on Jungwoo’s shoulder, nearly ready to fall asleep.

Lucas hums and reaches up, tapping the back of your hand. “This part. Have you seen this bit? I love it. Woo, watch closely and listen.”

“How am I supposed to listen when you keep talking, pup?” Jungwoo teases.

“Shh!” Lucas sits up, covering Jungwoo’s mouth with his hand and laughing. You miss whatever’s happening on the screen, too distracted by the way that Jungwoo gazes at Lucas, the way that Lucas slips his hand away to kiss Jungwoo. They kiss hungrily. The relaxed atmosphere of just a moment or two before is consumed by their passion.

You whine and lean up to kiss at Jungwoo’s throat, touch Lucas’s neck with your fingertips. He draws away, his lips on your cheek and throat until you turn your head and your lips meet his. Lucas’s lips are soft and warm, and he melts at your touch. You turn your head, and then you feel Jungwoo’s lips on the other side of your throat, a hint of teeth, the hot swipe of his tongue.

You could so easily fall into this, just let the lust fill you up, but you want more. You’ve been wanting more for so long, but every time you ask, Jungwoo tells you no. But you want it.

“Can I ask you for something?” You murmur, licking your lips when Lucas pulls back for a moment.

“Anything.”

“Whatever you want, angel.”

“Turn me, please.” You sigh, twisting your fingers in Jungwoo’s hair, tugging in an attempt to get his mouth to your throat. “Please. I love you. I want to be yours, both of yours, always. Make me like you.”

Jungwoo pulls back, trying to untangle your fingers, but you hold tight.

Lucas touches Jungwoo too, his fingers on your boyfriend’s cheek. “Just do it, Woo. She wants it. She wants us. She knows what she’s asking for.”

A long moment of hesitation as Jungwoo looks down at you, searching your eyes, but you just tilt your head back, exposing your throat to him. “Just a bite, Woo. And any human will do to fill me up on.” He touches your neck, looks back over at Lucas, then back down at you.

“This isn’t a joke. It’s irreversible.”

“I know.” You take hold of his hand. “And I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you forever. If it’s not this, then I’ll ask Lucas to turn me, I’ll go to Ten for a spell, I’ll search to the ends of the Earth for something. Anything.”

“You really think you’re living in that Twilight, don’t you?” Jungwoo asks. “A love triangle with a vampire and a werewolf, the need to become a vampire.” He tuts and shakes his head. “I really hope you don’t grow to hate me for this.”

Lucas sits back, watching as Jungwoo cradles the back of your neck, tilting your head to give him clear access to your throat. You shiver, a natural fear response as you feel his breath, feel the brush of his lips and his teeth, then the fangs. An ever so slight pinch and then sharper and a burn.

You gasp, your hands flying up to his shoulders.

Lucas takes hold of your hand.

The pressure at your throat increases, the hands on you are warm and tight. You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the feeling as everything gets fuzzy and hazy, close and muted, until it all just fades away....

It’s all very different when you wake. You feel it instantly.

You can feel the dry burn of your throat. You can hear the wind in the trees outside, cars on the road. Hearts beat nearby and someone moves across sheets. You can hear the young vampires giggling up in the attic, and the creaking of someone shifting down on the first floor. You can tell it’s still night time outside, the sun not yet above the horizon, and the new year has likely only just begun; you can hear hear celebrations, the crackle of fireworks somewhere in the city, and cheers in the houses nearest to the coven’s.

It worked. You know it did.

You can still taste the metallic burn of blood on the back of your tongue, tingling with something that you instantly recognize as magic, as Ten. It was his blood that completed your transformation, and you can hear him several rooms away, his heartbeat different from the heavy sounds of the few werewolves in the house.

And then something shifts, much closer, dragging your attention away from halfway across the house to right here in this bed that is so comfortable and familiar.

Heat radiates from just beside you, smelling of cinnamon, and without opening your eyes, you know it’s Lucas, looking down on you.

“Lucas.”

And then there are fingers nearing you, you can sense the shifting in the air. A familiar touch, still cool, though significantly less cold than they once were. So tender, loving. You hear the sound of Jungwoo’s shoulder brushing against Lucas’s, both of them leaning close to see you. His fingers trace the curve of your cheek.

“Jungwoo.”

You open your eyes to the world and see forever looking back down at you.

a/n: it’s been one year exactly since I posted part 2 of this so lol I’m sorry, but here it is! The third and final part of this series. It went several different ways than I was originally intending for it to be, but I think I’m pretty happy with this ending. As usual, if you liked it, please let me know, reblog it, like it, message me.

And happy New Year!

#jungwoo #nct #nct smut #jungwoo smut #luwoo smut

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riizev2 · 4 years

Text

The Living Timeline of Riize Wintersong

RPing is hard. Keeping track of nearly three years of continuity is harder. Here is my organized timeline of Riize’s life for those interested in RPing her now that I’ve returned. I recognize that this is based primarily on my own recollection of plot events, so I have chosen to tag in as many blogs as possible for those interested in hearing the other side of these stories.

However, times change. A lot has happened in two years and my recollection is far from perfect or impartial. In that vein, this is going to be considered a living document. It may change as new information is brought to my attention. Furthermore, some of the people mentioned here are not on good terms with each other (or with me lmao), so take some of this with a grain of salt. This might end up being more for me than for you.

That leads to what’s in brackets. Certain story beats that happened previous have been decided to be written out of continuity for a variety of reasons. Out of respect to the wishes of those involved, certain characters have been omitted even though they did have canon interactions with Riize previously. If I feel that the scene in question is still required to understand Riize’s current characterization, I will leave them in with brackets. The names and occupations of those involved will be changed for the sake of obscuring the identities of those involved and to open up future revisits to old topics now that I have more control over certain elements of Riize’s past.

I’m organizing it by patch because using the IRL timeline might awaken Blizzard’s lore department. Bold information was originally supposed to be proper nouns and important events but it got a little bit away from me. Just fucking kidding I deleted one word and half the hyperlinks broke and all the bolding disappeared so nothing is bold now. Also Tumblr ate this post twice so I’m kind of trying to get it up before it happens a third time. If edits need to be made, I will write a reblog with the changes as they happen (unless it is basic grammar or more comprehensive formatting)

With that said, let us begin.

Backstory:

Riize Wintersong was born in Darkshore to a priestess and a druid. Her childhood was largely uneventful, training under her mother as a Priestess of Elune while spending her spare time exploring the coastline. As she grew older, she decided that her true love was the sea and became a sailor. Travelling around Western Kalimdor, she became a rotating member of various trade ships that provided food and supplies to other kaldorei settlements on the continent.

In the lead up to the Third War, Riize joined the Alliance Navy and sailed much of Azeroth. During this period she learned much about dwarven and gnomish engineering and worked to maintain the components of ships. While only obtaining the title of Seamen, these years kindled her love for tinkering.

Riize left the military after fulfilling her tour of duty in Northrend. Like many she did experience whispers of the the Old God Yogg-Saron, but did not yet begin her study of the Void until far later. During her time as a civilian she fished and sailed for recreation purposes. After the Cataclysm she returned to the sea as a hired hand on any vessel that would take her. This began her integration into less savory groups.

Riize’s status as a sailor-for-hire was the status quo leading into her playable first appearance in...

Patch 7.3

At this time, Riize is a member of the pirate gang the Dreadwing Vultures. Operating under the professional alias of ��Nine,’ she sailed with the group for fun and profit. While occasionally brushing against the machinations of Unit Eight, her time with the group was generally enjoyable. Around this time is her first meetings with Corine Blythe, Saelkath Alzarah (@saelkath-alzarah) , and Kat Hawke (@kat-hawke).

[During this period Riize would begin dating one of her fellow Vultures. The two of them would spend long nights getting high and listening to vinyl records. While their life trajectories eventually moved in two different directions, she still values their time spent together greatly.]

Riize begins to make ties with the independent intelligence agency The Silent and a few of its high ranking members through their establishment at the Golden Keg. She begins to take up the place of one of their previous agents as an informant within the Dreadwing Vultures. This position does not last long, as the Vultures soon move to Ironforge and afterwards shutter completely.

Shortly after this event, Riize begins to study under Saelkath in the ways of the Void. Reaching into the darkness, Riize’s exploration is noticed by beings lurking in the Void and mentally affected irreparably. While initially curious, she finds herself drawn to understanding the Void and the denizens within with more fervor. She convinces Saelkath to reveal to her the rituals of the Cult of C’Thun and soon becomes a member herself.

[However, shortly after reemerging with her new focus on the Void, Riize is captured and held captive by a masked Light zealot in the Hinterlands. Detained and tortured for over two weeks, Riize was eventually able to escape into the woods. While too weak to fight, she swore revenge on the one who imprisoned her.]

Patch 7.3.5

While examining a job board in Stormwind Riize comes across a flier directing people towards Easterly. After communicating with The Silent, Riize chooses to enter the newly reforming House Draconis on an information-gathering mission. She meets the House’s heir, Strixena Draconis, and begins to establish a friendship with her. She completes her induction after kidnapping a priest of the Light out of Stormwind on Strixena’s behalf. She is initiated into the House shortly after. While initially believing she escaped Stormwind without notice, Riize ends up crossing the Warden Elyza Morrowbranch (@morrowbranch) who was more than capable of overpowering the newly minted Lady’s Hand. Beating aside, Riize chooses House Draconis over her previous bonds and affirms her loyalty to Strixena.

Riize’s involvement with House Draconis does not go unnoticed by those who knew her and soon she finds herself interrogated by Director Hawke. Remaining affable post-kidnapping, the two enter a tense truce. Working with Saelkath and her previous student Iceilla Nightbane (@iceillanightbane), Riize partakes in off-the-record assistance on a small handful of missions on Unit Eight’s log.

During a heated argument between the two of them, Riize slices Strixena’s face and leaves her permanently scarred. Agreeing that her delving into the Void is making her lose control of herself, Riize is isolated within the barren White Room deep under Easterly’s catacombs. She is kept in solitary confinement for six weeks, with her only outside contact to the world being twice daily visits from Strixena to bring her food. While originally planned as an act of love, Riize begins to go mad. Her connection to the Void deepens in secret. When she is released she rekindles her vow of loyalty to Strixena and is rechristened as Riizen Draconis, the Phoenix of Easterly.

While working as a founding member of House Draconis’s intelligence branch, the Lady’s Hand, Riize meets the Arbiter of Dead Sun Harbor Eilithe Duskbringer (@eilitheduskbringer). While working together during the opening of the House’s gunsmithing store in Stormwind (Dragon’s Breath Smithing) the two kaldorei would develop a lasting friendship. Fulfilling her duties to the House, Riize recruits Joskinar Soulshread (@joskinar) into the Lady’s Hand. Near that time she also meets Aurelia Voidsong (@smoke-and-stilettos), Headmistress of Sordasa Academy. The Academy would act as the research division of the House, providing a vast bevy of knowledge to those who would seek it. Riize, Jos, and Aurelia would soon form a polyamorous relationship.

Patch 8.0

Strixena and other key members of House Draconis are jailed by a mysterious figure. Riize is not targeted, though the time spent away from Strixena eats at her. She tries her best to maintain the organization in her stead but is slowly pushed further and further out of power by inter-House politics. She settles into running the House’s business ventures while awaiting her sister’s return.

During a Unit Eight expedition to Ahn’Qiraj with Saelkath and a mage in SI:7’s employ, Riize witnesses the full power of her teacher’s magic and is horrified. Barely able to push through the ritualist’s powerful psychic influence, Riize helps destroy the artifact they came to collect to free Saelkath from its hold. While the trio are able to return to Unit Eight’s headquarters safely, Saelkath’s mind is shattered and she loses all memory of Riize. Heartbroken, she leaves her teacher in the medbay and disappears into the night. Riize never sees her beloved teacher again.

Eventually Strixena reemerges before the House as a Death Knight, a specter of vengeance unleashed upon the world. House Draconis begins to act again, though with far less of Riize’s input. Not long after, Dragon’s Breath Smithing is shuttered. The intelligence branch that Riize helped Strixena found is scrapped as well, resulting in her joining Aurelia in Sordasa Academy.

Things grew more dire over the coming months. War loomed on the horizon and the temperament of her sister grew even more volatile. The final straw came in the one-two punch of the closing of Sordasa Academy and the ultimatum that re-entering the House’s inner circle would require letting go of her attachment to her partners. Riize, Aurelia, and Joskinar would all leave Easterly for the old Voidsong Manor in the dead of night. She never saw her sister again.

Patch 8.1

The War of the Thorns escalated further, far from Riize’s gaze. The Void’s hold on her grew ever deeper until the Burning of Teldrassil snapped her from her stupor. Journeying to Darkshore, Riize learned that her parents had evacuated to the presumably untouchable kaldorei capital only to be lost in the fire. Riize had not seen her family in decades and never got to say goodbye.

Patches 8.1.5 through 8.2.5

AKA the period I wasn’t playing WoW

Riize, Joskinar, and Aurelia married in private far from the world. The trio would spend the following year together in seclusion, enjoying relative peace together far from the world and the war raging around them. While it was peace at the cost of ignorance, it was a much needed reprieve from the pain that had preceded.

Patch 8.3 through Past and Present

The rise of N’Zoth and the emergence of Ny’alotha took an unseen toll upon the Void-Blessed Night Elf. Visions began to infiltrate her mind showing her memories of lives unlived and roads not taken. In time it became impossible to distinguish the visions from reality. The usually energetic kaldorei would soon spend hours of the day bedridden, barely able to navigate through the illusions that danced before her eyes.

Now

Riize re-enters a world that is unfamiliar during a time of uneasy peace. The public has turned its hatred upon the Void-aligned and allies have become few and far between. Familiar faces have disappeared, replaced by an endless stream of vitriol. Still, Riize searches for answers and closure to a life that has escaped her...

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studiopoprocks · 4 years

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Secret Santa Christmas Fic!

This is dedicated to my wounderful secret Santa @new-noveltea I hope you enjoy this, and I hope it’s not to late. Let me know if you don’t like it so then I can re write it! It’s pretty rushed. Thank you so much for participating in this with me! And I hope you have a wonderful Christmas❤️

Word count: 4.7k

Ship: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

You could see the beautiful snow falling outside your window, a sign of what was to come. December 24 Christmas Eve. To many, this night was to celebrate family and togetherness, drinking delicious warm apple cider or hot chocolate while sitting by the beautifully decorated Christmas tree. At least that’s what you have read in books. Although you did have quite a few Christmas trees around the palace, it wasn’t you who got to decorate them. Put in place for the Christmas ball the king and queen put on every year.

“Um excuse me miss.” You turned your attention from the decorated pines outside over to your maid Uraraka, “you’re going to need to change into your dress soon, your majesty.”

You let out a small laugh at her pleasantries, “No one is around, you can drop the ‘miss’” it was hard to miss the sparkle that appeared in the brunettes eyes.

She made a b-line to the rooms walk in closet, excitedly talking about tonight, “Okay, we have to pick out the most extravagant dress you own. People must remember that you were there!” Although you loved your friend, as she practically grew up with you, her words were starting to bug you. Just like your parents, this ball was to kick off you becoming old enough to finally be wed. Now of course you wouldn’t be forced into an arranged marriage, but the pressure was still there.

Somehow while being wrapped up in choosing your evening gown, Ochako had noticed the change in your mood, “What’s wrong hun?” Sometimes she was just too perceptive. However, you knew she really cared about you and wouldn’t let it drop until you told her. “Do you not want to do the plan anymore?” She asked with concern.

“What plan?” Dumbfounded, your interest peaked.

“Didn’t Deku tell you?” She gasped when you shook your head, “of course he didn’t… anyways our Christmas gift to you this year is letting you leave the castle and explore the town on Christmas. We’ve been planning this for months! I can’t believe him!” You could only sit and stare. You had been let out of the castle many times, but never near Christmas as you always have so many duties to attend to.

“Now hurry up, we need you out and about so it doesn’t look suspicious when you-“ Ochaco added air quotes, “retire to your room” you could almost scream you were so excited, but instead settled in giving her the world's biggest hugs.

“Thank you so much! You’re the best friend any princess could ask for!” You shout into her ear. Although you wished you could hug her till the party, it would make putting on a dress rather difficult.

Of course she had chosen the most extravagant one you owned, a cream white dress, one that had so many rhinestones on it, that it looked identical to the freshly fallen snow on the ground. A magnificent dress to say the least, although it did itch a little in the back due to the lace detailing. You would definitely stick out in a gown like this.

“Okay so I’m meeting you where at 10:45?” You questioned.

“No, not me. You’ll be meeting Deku at the doors so he can accompany you to your room.” She explained, as she guided your form to the vanity. “I’ll meet you both there once your parents are informed of your absence. Remember to mention earlier to them that you are feeling tired.”

“Then you’ll tell me how you’re going to get a well known princess into town?” You asked as she started brushing the knots out of your hair, nodding her head at your question. Flinching at a rough knot, you continued to listen to what you would have to do.

The excitement kept bubbling up every few minutes. You were finally going to do it, sneak out on the most wonderful day of the year, and experience a real Christmas. You’re heart felt like it was growing three sizes like the grinch, and it was a delightful feeling. The constant chatter between you and your maid almost made you late for the ball. But hey, it’s called fashionably late for a reason, unless that wasn’t a thing in medieval times…

Thankfully to Ochaco and your parents, you were far from being late. Already waiting for your knight Midoriya to escort you to the ballroom, which you could hear all the way from your chambers. Makeup that made your face feel heavy, hair that if you left too long up, would give you a headache, and a dress that itched in the worst places. However you did look stunning, or at least that’s what Izuku said. So what’s beauty without a tad bit of pain? Plus you’d be in and out of it within 5 hours. Then you would be free.

“Ready to go?” You cheerfully asked your knight as you saw him approaching.

“Always ready m’lady.” You laughed at the last part, no matter how hard you tried, he always had to refer to you as upper class.

“Thank you so much, both of you.” You smiled as you hugged Uraraka before allowing Deku to lead the way. Even though you likely knew more about the castle and how to get around then he did. The ball room wasn’t hard to find, down the hall, turn left, then turn right at the kitchen and keep going until you hit the grand staircase. After that take the closest left hall and it’s just down there. But anyone could find their way if they just listened for the music.

It was beautiful, likely the best band in the village. But they definitely were loud, you could probably use a headache as an excuse if the plan goes astray. But for now, you would have to push those thoughts of escape down, and socialize at the Christmas part of the year.

10:13 pm

The adrenaline was rushing through you as you waited in your chambers. The reality of this whole situation was finally hitting you, and it felt like a brick wall. Yes you were excited to leave the castle, but there were so many what ifs. What if you were caught? What if your parents found out and forced you to marry due to your disobedience? What if- A beautiful red dress snagged your eye. It was simplistic, as there wasn’t any diamonds or other precious gems littering it. It wasn’t even a gown, as it looked as if it only came up to just above the knees. Simplistic yet an elegant design.

Seeing the note Ochaco had left about putting it on, you made fast work of the itchy glitter bomb you were currently wearing. Proving to be a much more difficult task without any maids. Yet you still did it, and thankfully the new red dress was much easier to put on. Along with the addition of some very cute matching black knee high boots to keep you warm.

So there you were standing in your room, waiting for the people who would help you escape for the night. Unbeknownst to you the adventure you were about to begin.

11:27 pm

wrapped up in a cloak, you felt the slight cold nip at your nose as your two best friends opened up the door that led to your freedom. You had traveled all through the catacombs, only getting lost once or twice just to get here. The cold making the small tears in the corners of your eyes become chilled.

“I can’t believe this, this means the world to me, and I’m so thankful to have you both! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you, but I’ll do my best!” You smiled as you bid your farewell to Izuku and Ochaco, for the next day would be yours to do as you please.

Hugs were exchanged as you made your way towards the village. The darkness and the slow falling snow, giving off an eerie yet mystical experience. Within about three minutes you were in the town square, practically alone, aside from the few people who had stayed up to enjoy the night. There was a swelling feeling in your heart as you looked around at all the lanterns and lights, they rocked in the slight breeze, but their glow was never disturbed. There were beautiful tall pine trees, no inch left uncovered. Fresh bread and peppermint followed you as you made your way around the village.

However lost in your own thoughts and wounder, you had forgotten to watch were you were going, and bumped into someone carrying about three expertly wrapped boxes. The sudden noise they made as they hit the snow covered ground brought you out of your dream like stage, and quickly you bowed your head.

“My apologies! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, it’s just the scenery is so gorgeous that I didn’t realize I was going to bump into someone.” A small chuckle could be heard beneath your bowing form.

“You’re right, it is quite beautiful tonight, but it’s really no biggie, no harm done.” The man smiled up at you as he continued to pick up his boxes. Quickly you sank to your knees, helping with one that had fallen nearer to you. The man looked young, probably somewhere between Izukus and your age. He was handsome, a symmetrical smiling face, framed by spikes red hair, and piercing but soft red eyes. What really drew your attention however was his strangely sharp teeth, and how they looked so harmless as he smiled at you.

With two presents, the man stood up, brushing off the excess snow from his legs. Looking around for the ministry girl he had just met, he realized you were still on the ground looking up at him. He could see the childlike wonder in your eyes, as they sparked around your breathtaking form. Snapping out of it, he offered you his hand. Surprisingly, you placed the last package into it instead. With a slight laugh, he put the presents neatly down and tried to help you up again. This time you finally accepted, and he pulled you up with ease. His strength not unnoticed by you. After brushing off the residual snow, you bowed again.

“Thank you for helping me up.” Standing back up straight to see a curious look in the strangers eyes.

“You’re not from around here are you? Do you need help finding your way back to the castle? I don’t mind-“

“NO!” You rudely cut him off, “I mean… I’m not from around here, but that’s because I wanted to see what the town is like on Christmas.”

The man in front of you could tell something was up, although he wasn’t sure who you were, you didn’t exactly scream threat. You had the same predicament, without much outside knowledge you could be naive and possibly used if the wrong person came around. But whether it was the spirit of Christmas, or some other outside force, the two of you felt no unease from the other. Even so, it was still shocking to hear what he said next.

“Well it’s not Christmas yet, and it’s getting late. If you don’t have a place to stay you’re welcome to come with me, I have a few friends who I’m with at the moment and I’m sure they would understand.” He offered, “Oh! And my name is Kirishima, Eijiro Kirishima.”

You knew it was a dumb idea to follow a stranger you had just met. What if he saw through you, and found out you were the princess, or kidnapped you! Yet the kind offer and smile on his face pushed all those thoughts away. You may have been a princess, but you could handle yourself if it came to it. As long as you kept the knife your guard gave you, your training should let you get enough time to escape.

“I happily accepted Mr. Kirishima! However, I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you my name… for security reasons.” It wasn’t exactly lying, but it didn’t feel good either way.

“I understand.” The smile on his face never once leaving, “also just call be Kirishima, Mr. is was too formal.” You agreed as titles were something you disliked as well. They often felt overpowering, which is why you would ask your staff to never address you as princess, unless you were around company.

“I have to get two more gifts before we leave, Kay?” You nodded, unsure of where he would get them as many of the stores were closed. Nonetheless you followed him through the streets, basking in the Christmas decorations as you passed. Some houses even having snowmen in front, half melted from how warm the past week had been. If only it was that warm now, your hands had always been on the cold side, but they were starting to feel numb. Subconsciously you rubbed them together, bringing them up to place them inside your cloak. Crimson eyes watched your movements, regretting the fact he didn’t bring gloves of his own to lend you.

Instead he decided that he would do the next best thing to warm you up, “You looked cold, and my hands tend to be very warm.” He said as he grabbed your hand, noticing how soft and cute it felt within his own.

“Oh, umm thanks.” You mumbled, a little flustered at the redhead, who’s skin matched his hair. It definitely wasn’t unwelcomed as you could feel your fingers again, plus you couldn’t deny that he was cute.

It was nice walking beside Kirishima. Although the conversation stayed on more trivial things, like what was the best Christmas gift the two of you had gotten, you felt comfortable. Deeper and more personal questions played like a movie in your mind, but it seemed unfair as you couldn’t answer then if he had been the one to ask. So you kept quiet, and continued on with a question about Christmas traditions. That’s what the presents were for, Kirishima did something called a gift exchange with the other members of his group.

“Speaking of gifts, this should be it!” Pointing to a tiny house on the corner, you could make out a small bread symbol in the window. “Sero loves this place!” He smiled as you walked closer to the cute little house. You could smell the fresh pastries and ingredients even before you made it inside. Although it did pack a bigger punch the closer you got to it. Once inside you felt like you were in the gingerbread house from Hansel and Greatel, except the house was made from bread and other starchy foods. Every breath felt like you were eating something new and delicious.

You excused yourself to browse the shelves, as your companion talked to the elderly woman who seemed to own this wonderful place. Donuts to cinnamon buns, to cream puffs, to bagels, to… and that’s when you saw something. Although you never had any big Christmas traditions with your family, there was one thing you always loved from when you were a small child. The store provided little brown bags as to put your sweets in, so picking up a rather large one, you placed the baked good inside.

“Oh you’re buying something?” Kiri asked as you made your way to the front to pay.

“It’s just something I eat every Christmas morning with my family. I usually make it, but seeing as I’m spending Christmas away, I thought I would get it now.” You smiled, still keeping the pastry a secret from the man.

The woman just smiled at your exchange. It was a comforting feeling to see such young kids being respectful and enjoying themselves, “will that be everything dearie?” She asked, snapping the two of you away from each others eyes.

“Oh yes thank you.” You smiled, giving her double of what it cost. Refusing to take it back after the transaction, even though it was hard to say no to such a soft eyed woman.

“My heavens. Thank you so much hun, I hope you and your fiance have a lovely Christmas together.” Surprisingly, neither of you decided to correct the woman on her assumption. The unnoticed glint in her eye showed she knew you two weren’t together, but it would still be fun to joke around a bit. “Merry Christmas! And tell your mother that Ms. Collins says hello.”

the little bell above the door rang as the two of you exited, “Do you know her?” The red head asked.

You shook your head, “no idea, but I would be surprised if she knew who I was.” To any normal person your comment would have seemed weird, but the man beside you just brushed it off and continued to the local book store. You didn’t even know you had one of those in town. Heck you didn’t even know if they actually existed as you tended to read from the royal library, or your personal collection. You thanked your lucky stars that Ochaco told you to bring some money on your excapapaid, because you were about to blow it all on books.

If you have ever seen the part in beauty and the beast where Belle is given the castle library, then you could probably imagine exactly how the little town girl felt, as this was the exact feeling. Although it wasn’t as big as the palaces library, it was comfier and cosier than anywhere you had ever been. There was even a little postal office attached at the right hand corner, which is where Kirishima went as he left you to look around. You skimmed each book, seeing if you had it, and locating your favourites just to see if they had them in stock. Books about daring princes and slaying dragons, about horror and romance.

It was a hard decision whether you liked the bakery or the library more. This small bit of freedom from outside the castle was already some of the most fun you’ve ever had, even though you were starting to get a tad sleepy.

“Ready to go?” You felt a small tap on your shoulder.

“Already?”

“Sorry, but if we want to make it to my camp with enough time to sleep then we better start moving.” You could tell he seemed tired too.

“Alright fine, so how do we get there?” The poor boy visibly tensed at your question, glancing around frantically until his eyes landed on a man out in the street. “Oh hey! Mr. Gum, do you mind letting me buy something from your shop quickly?”

The blond just stared back, taking a second to remember who this random kid yelling at him was, “OH Kiri, how are you? Merry Christmas!” The large man smiled, “and I see you got yourself a partner! Nice to meet you!” He said tuning his attention to you, “I’ve seen you before, don’t you work in the castle?”

“Umm well not exactly…” You definitely recognized the man, he was one of the guards who would sometimes patrol the gardens of the palace, or stay at the walls to fight off any mythical beasts that wanted to kill the royal family. But he retired soon after failing to kill a horrendous dragon, or at least that was what the rumours said.

“Oh well, I figure it out soon enough.” Oh how you wished he wouldn’t, “So what was it that you needed so bad?” He questioned, pulling out the keys to his store.

“One of Mei’s inventions, the feet sword things.” Okay maybe you were hanging out with a crazy person. “Those! I need two.” He said pointing at some sort of shoe with a horizontal sword at the bottom. They looked strange, but the man agreed to it anyways. They did look pretty cool though, but the price was a bit much even for you. You could sense the boy next to you cringe, so in the heat of the Christmas moment, you

Pulled out your coins and paid for the two of them in full.

Kirishima tried stopping you, even asking the man behind the counter to not take your money, but you just simply explained, “think of this as my payment for taking me around the town for the first time in many years.” Smiling as the blond handed Kiri the shoes.

“That’s where I know you from!” He suddenly shouted. You’re smile instantly flipped, as your heart crept its way into your throat. Your eyes held a silent beg, asking the man in front of you to not reveal who you really were.

“You’re the-“ he started but surprisingly you were not the one to cut him off.

“Sorry Mr. Gum but I think I’d rather hear about my companions past and life from her. But thank you for the skates!” He quickly rambled on, grabbing your hand and signaling that you two should probably be leaving.

“Oh I didn’t mean anything like that, I simply meant that she was the little girl who once gave me a flower, long long ago when I wasn’t feeling so cheerful. Trust me, she’s a good one son.” He winked at the boy beside you, laughing as he saw his face reddened. The joking continued as the gentleman ushered the two of you outside and directed you to the frozen river. “Merry Christmas you two!” And with that he left.

It was silent as Kirishima helped you put on the strange sharp shoes, trying his best to figure them out. He had kinda figured out his own, but he insisted on helping you as it was the manly thing to do, but he still had trouble.

“(Y/n)” you whispered. The boy at your feet raised his head, tilting it to the side as if to ask what you had just said.

“It’s my name, I thought I should finally tell you.” You smiled down at him as he tried saying it a few times to commit it to memory. It felt nice to hear him call you by your name, especially since many just addressed you by some sort of title. You felt comfortable, or at least as comfortable as you could be as he stood you up on the frozen ice.

Almost falling forward, a strong pair of arms steadied you. Reaching his hand out to both help the two of you, and to continue to keep your hands warm. But mostly because you needed each other to make it like 2 feet without falling. Honestly, it didn’t take you too long to get your balance, as you’ve had to learn many new things quite quickly as a child. But poor Kiri seemed to be getting worse, especially since he had to carry the presents he had gotten for his friends. It was still pretty cute watching him try his best to stay up, even if he wasn’t very graceful.

“How are you good at this already!?” He asked as you gave him your hand to steady his form.

“I don’t know, but how did you even get to the village, and why didn’t we just take that way?” You questioned. Sadly he stiffened again, becoming ridged and losing his balance. With his hand already interlocked with yours, he pulled you down with him, and basically on top of him. It was a shock, as you stared down at the boy Beneath you in a strange position. “I guess you fell for me.” You started laughing.

“Fell hard is more like it.” He joined in, rubbing his hip that had hit the ice hard. The two of you continued to laugh, Kiri even complaining that he couldn’t breathe. But the boy beneath you stopped suddenly, fear in his eyes as he looked towards the trees on the side. Tilting your head you attempted to follow his gaze, but he quickly turned your attention back to him as he shouted “NO!”

That’s when it lunged. A huge scaly beast with piercing yellow eyes, focused on your figure. Within seconds it was millimeters from your face, yellow electric sparks emitting from the dragons form. Never in your life had you been that scared, and so of course you froze. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, but not because of the beast, but because of the boy who had flipped your positions and placed himself in harm's way instead of you. He glared at the beast, baring his sharp teeth as a warning, and somehow it worked. You could see the yellow beast returning back to the forest, but only in a blurry haze as you felt yourself drifting out of consciousness.

7:07 am

“Hey are you okay” a strange voice was talking to you. It was weird, the only person aloud in your chambers was your maid/friend Ochaco, and unless she had a terrible throat cold.

Slowly you opened your eyes, coming face to face with an attractive redhead, relief flooding his features. He pulled you into a hug, muttering something about being glad you were okay, and that he was worried. You hadn’t realized how cold you were till his body heat started to warm you up. So when he started pulling away, it’s no surprise that you didn’t let him go. But this position remained you of something that happened last night…

“What happened?” You said worried.

“A dragon showed up.” He started blatantly.

“Yes but how, how did you get it to leave us alone! It was huge and terrifying! Dragons could kill you without a second thought.” You explained, subconsciously checking over him for any wounds the beast may have left.

A sad smile crossed his face, “Do you really believe all dragons are merciless killers?”

“Well, I mean that’s like saying all humans are nasty and evil. But I have yet to meet a friendly dragon…” You stop talking noticing how each word made the man in front of you sadder, “but hey, I could be totally wrong! You probably know something that I don’t, and I’ve never had much contact with them besides from last night. But I trust you.” You took a deep breath looking into the red ones across from you, before noticing your bag. The one with your Christmas traditions.

“Let’s get to know each other over some coffee cake.” You smiled as you brought out the treat for the two of you to share. It was calm and you complimented the tree you could see outside of the tent. Decorated with what looked to be homemade ornaments, different colours, sizes and shapes, all holding a special meaning to the ones who made them.

“My name is princess (Y/n) (L/n).” And you explained why you had snuck out of the castle, why you wanted Christmas to be special, and why you valued spending time with Kirishima. “It was a magical night, something nothing could ruin. You’re the first person in my life who hasn’t been paid to be by my side!” You could feel the tears coming to your eyes, and Kiri could see them. Brushing them away, he led you outside his tent.

“Just don’t freak out please.” Now when people say that, your first reaction is usually to freak out. Yet as the man's skin turned into red scales, and his pupils became slits. Two magnificent wings sprouted from his back, as horns and a tail accompanied them. Eijirou Kirishima was a dragon, or more specifically the imaginary creatures known as shifters. The surprising thing was you never felt a hint of fear, not even when you noticed the other dragons circling around you.

Slowly you walked up to the shifter boy, placing your hand along the beautiful scales. The uneasiness on both your faces melting into an understanding comfort. “Merry Christmas Eijiro.” You smiled, as a large leathery wing came to swoop you up to his face. Holding you there as he shifted back to his human form, hugging you tightly. “Merry Christmas (Y/n), oh and Kaminari apologizes about last night, he thought you were hurting me.” He laughed and you two continued to enjoy the others embrace, as the snow fell around you. It truly was a wonderful Christmas.

#secret santa #for my beautiful secret santa #kirishima eijirou #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #fluff #2019 #mha kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader

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telesthisia · 4 years

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HANDY DANDY RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET FOR PRINCESS ZELDA (A Link to the Past)!

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

mun name: Amber!! ooc contact: My DMs are always open for mutuals and non-mutuals alike (I think at least, if not don’t be afraid to send in asks either I try my best to get to them ;v;)! I do have a personal blog but weeps.... me no longer active on there. And a twitter but weeps once again, it’s an oc twitter despite my yellings of off topic things. MY DISCORD TOO!! Though my activity is very inconsistent somedays I’ll be on others not so much! Don’t be afraid to ask for that uvu

who the heck is my muse anyway?

HOHO!!! For those who never touched The Legend of Zelda in their lives, I’m sure it’s pretty dang confusing to see more than one design of both Zelda and Link, I’ll try my best to explain this! The series follows a very, very convoluted timeline filled with plotholes, as such the Links and Zeldas we see throughout different titles of the game are actually reincarnations who are destined to seal away whatever darkness may threaten the lands known as Hyrule.

The Zelda I play as is the princess of Hyrule during a point in the timeline known as “Downfall Era” where the Hero of Time in OOT lost against Ganondorf in the final battle; Ocarina of Time is the reason for why there’s multiple timelines with each having their unique era depending on the choices in that game. The Downfall Era is known for having games known as A Link to The Past, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Time, Link’s Awakening, A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes, The OG Legend of Zelda, Annnnd Adventure of Link! The Zelda I play as comes from A Link to The Past as well as the Oracle series and I guess Link’s Awakening despite having no appearance. The events of A Link to The Past and Oracle Series has deeply affected my Zellie in that she suffers from unspoken traumas as well depression. See, before the events of ALTTP there was a war known as the Imprisoning War, that war ended where the seven sages seal away Ganon. Peace reigned for a while until a series of plagues and droughts struck which affected the kingdom. It wasn’t until the antagonist of the game, a wizard by the name of Agahnim, would put an end to the misfortunate blighting Hyrule with his magic, gaining favor with the king. He was able to worm his way into court and from there act on his plans in breaking the seal to the sacred realm where the triforce and Ganon rest. Doing so, he must capture the seven maidens who are descendants of the seven sages and sacrifice them in order to break the seal and well, guess which princess happens to be one of those seven maidens? Suffice to say, he was successful in breaking the seal with Zelda being the final sacrifice. Here we find out that he’s actual the alter ego of Ganon (don’t question it too hard) and we also find out she’s not dead! Hooray! But she is trapped in a plane known as The Dark World, once the sacred realm corrupted by Ganon’s greed. So as all LOZ stories goes, Link saves the day. Happily ever after, right? Well... no, see unlike in the game where the ending is happy and everyone who died is alive I follow both the 90s comics and Himekawa manga where those who died in the games did not come back to life. This includes Zelda’s father, Link’s uncle and some of the maidens. It’s very bittersweet in that, the day is saved and Ganon is gone forever but at the cost of loved ones no longer coming back.

Well... Ganon comes back! In the oracle series! Two years after ALTTP, Twinrova tries to resurrect him by using the blood and body of Princess Zelda, meaning she can actually die this time around. But Link saves the day once again. Which leads us today, the main verse of the blog which is a year after Oracles and three years after ALTTP! NOTE: That my smash verse more or less follows this timeline I have in place for this blog.

things you should know

I sound like a broken record but. She’s a glass canon of sorts. Where she’s very powerful thanks to blood of the seven sages, the light force, and having hylia’s blood in her veins. As such, she’s very powerful and her magic super potent which is why so many people wanna sacrifice for dark rituals... BUT!! She has super power health issues that affects her magical stamina and body as such she can’t even use half her powerful magic and this upsets her greatly. It’s a small headcanon of mine because in the games and manga, she doesn’t really do much despite being a powerful magical princess. Keep in mind that ALTTP came out before the retcon that is Skyward Sword and before they decided to add more to Zelda’s abilities throughout the course of the series... so my brain went to: she’s powerful but can’t use magic too much due to poor health. It worked!! Before smash came along but I swear I’m not at all salty. To be fair, it was my fault for assuming things but imagine: glass canon Zelda. It sounded super cool at the time!

She represses a lot if only for the sake of her nation and to appear as a good leader for her people. As such, she’s almost always calm and has a gentle smile on her face despite radio static sounds resounding in her thoughts. Give her time, she’ll open up and show you her playful side!

She’s been surrounded by death considering before ALTTP, during ALTTP and kinda with Oracles if you count Twinrova, as well as having a connection with the spirit realm due to freaky PSI powers. So, she doesn’t really have a negative view on death and has actually gained that edgy romanticist view as the result of her life experiences. She’s very much someone who likes to live life to her fullest as the result... and well, it doesn’t help that she’s aware of her short life span thanks to her future vision. Something she won’t reveal to anyone more than likely as to not worry them. She’s more or less accepted her fate... speaking of which

She hates fate/destiny/etc but accepts whatever happens because again clairvoyance has proven that there’s no changing what’s been planned. So, she doesn’t bother fighting against it. But, what impresses her are those who manage to overcome destiny, something that Link does sometimes which is why she looks up to him. He’s that variable that the future can’t keep track of due to how ever changing he is.

She loves exploring creepy places, ruins, caves, and dungeons that are scattered throughout her kingdom, for both history and the spooky aesthetics of it! So if you see her outside the castle she’s more than likely getting ready to explore some spooky place. She’s almost always wearing her cloak but there are rare moments where she’s not either ;v; she’ll always go by the name Elle... worth mention she doesn’t bother hiding the mark of the triforce on her right hand.

Speaking of which, only people from the capital known as Castle Town and even some from Kakariko village as well know of the princess’ appearance. Various small towns throughout the land of Hyrule however, only remember her appearance from ALTTP where her hair was a more golden blonde rather than the platinum color that it’s taken from the various fear and stresses from her life. And also, she’s more freckly due to not wearing coverup when outside the castle. Ok well,,,,, here’s the best side by side comparison I have...

If you ask her what the light arrows are, she’ll look at you funny. She comes from a time where silver arrows are a thing :’) the few things that can defeat Ganon

Closet romantic, as in she loves love and wishes for a romance of her own but when it comes to her own feelings she’s an idiot due to repressing feelings.

what she’s been up to:

main verse: Which is during the events of Skyward Sword, as such she’s no longer in Skyloft nor does she have the full knowledge that she’s Hylia but Zelda is suspecting that there’s a connection there. She does not know how to wield her magic as it comes and goes in spurts. She’s seen throughout the Surface so she can be anywhere! Even in other timelines due to using the Gate of Time, we can just say that something screwed up causing for her to end up in another time period or even verse! LOZ series is pretty flexible in time travel.

where to find her:

Graveyard + Sanctuary: It’s a soothing place to visit and also to pay respects to the fallen in ALTTP.

One of the three provinces (my rendition of Hyrule is a little bigger than the in game map so don’t be afraid to add places that aren’t in ALTTP but in other titles, I know I tend to do): aka anywhere in the fields, she’s a woman plagued with wanderlust and doesn’t like being confined to one place

Kakariko: the villagers who know her true identity are hella nice to pretend that it’s not the princess but Elle! Guards tend to be here after a certain time though, so to avoid them she always avoids going to the village when it’s nearly sundown

Ruins, catacombs, abandon shrines etc: again she likes creepy or historical places or both!

Haunted Grove: Well... it’s haunted! So :’)

Castle: it’s possible to meet her here too! Whether as princess or someone sneaking either out of the castle or back into it.

current plans:

Lead her kingdom to the Golden Age, something her father tried to do before his demise. While wishing to see Link once more.

desired interactions:

I would love the usual adventure threads!!!

FRIENDSHIP!! She needs friends, pls!!

ENEMIES!! It’d be fun to write a more angry Zel who doesn’t get along with someone!

ROMANCE!! I’m a sucker for cuteness ;v; and slow burn ;v;

HORROR AU!! HORROR AU!!!

Creepy gothic threads of Zelda running into a creepy cryptid in a gothic castle on a stormy night.... this is very specific but listen, cries...

Comfort thread ;v;

things that bother me:

People who know she’s the princess right off the bat ticks me off ngl. A-ok if you muse is unaware of her otherwise!

PEOPLE WHO KNOW THAT SHE’S FROM A BLOODLINE OF A GODDESS AND SAGES DHSJAKJADB no one really knows that the royal family actually did descend from gods, unless your muse is an immortal and is aware of the events that goes on they shouldn’t know this fact. The only thing the public is aware of is how the royal family have mystical powers different from the population.

uhhhh that’s about it? Mostly metagaming pft, not too much bothers me now that I think about.

tagged by: i pirated it ;v; from myself!

tagging: whomst ever! i recommend doing this since it’ll help a ton with those who still are unsure with your muse but feel too nervous to ask questions.

#dash games.#ah yes.... where amber spews a bunch of words #i will add to this but eyyyy partners check it out if you wanna know some things #anyway uhhh writings coming out soon uvu

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clansayeed · 4 years

Text

Bound by Choice ― II.i. The Prestige Waltz

PAIRING: OC x OC x OC (Valdas x Isseya x Cynbel) RATING: Mature (reader discretion advised)

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Choice ⥽

Before there were Clans and Councils, before the fate of the world rested in certain hands, before the rise and fall of a Shadow King ― there was the Trinity. Three souls intertwined in the early hands of the universe who came to define the concept of eternity together. Because that was how they began and how they hoped to end; together. For over 2,000 years Valdas, Cynbel, and Isseya have walked through histories both mortal and supernatural. But in the early years of the 20th century something happened―something terrible. Their story has a beginning, and this is the end.

Bound by Choice and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Choice is the only book in the series not based on an existing Choices story. It is set in the Bloodbound universe and features many canon characters.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Choice/series tag list!

⥼ PART II ⥽

— Paris, 1582. Vampires across Europe gather beneath the bones of Paris for merriment, reverence, and to honor the lives lost in a holy war. But some see this not as meace, but as an opportunity to decimate the enemy ranks no matter the price. And, as Serafine Dupont comes to learn, other's lives are a sacrifice the Trinity is willing to make.

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Beneath the streets of Paris the dead dwell restless. They take up masks and dance through the night. They celebrate freedom and life. And do so, unknowingly, for the last time.

[READ IT ON AO3]

Paris, 1582

She’s a breathtaking thing on his arm. Of course in this the age of beautiful things she still glows radiant; the star that outshines the moon.

As she always has. As she always will.

Long fingers wind through Cynbel’s golden locks absent and curious. She leaves it up to him to solve the labyrinth of the dead and instead finds herself contented in gazing upon him.

“You haven’t worn your hair this long since Venice.”

“Kind of you to notice.”

“I like it.”

“I should hope so. You spend countless hours in my company, darling mine. If you found me repulsive I can’t imagine what I would do with myself.”

Not a heartbeat passes and Isseya’s grip grows violent; feral. Nails digging into his scalp and a sudden tickling warmth on the back of his neck where blood drips down and threatens to stain his collar.

“Really, Iss’,” his sigh is long-suffering, yet he does not decline her apology of handkerchief dabbing away the mess, “do try and keep civil tonight. You know how important the evening is to me.”

Yet he knows her too well not to feel the falter in her footsteps. The way her mockery of breathing stills and leaves them as permanent and dust-covered as the rest of the catacombs through which they wander with purpose.

“Indeed.”

He would ask if she was having second thoughts about the whole affair but what would that change? Nothing.

What’s done is done. And by the end of the night he will reap what has been sown with a madman’s delight.

Up ahead the darkness gives way to shadows dancing in ritual abreast of the walls of stone and bone. Before they get too close Cynbel stops them; pulls his darling girl against him — allows himself to be pinned against the tunnel and knows her natural desires of dominance will placate her.

Even now.

And she falls into the role as easily as he gives it. Pulling his arms up, up against the linen of his sleeves catching on the stone, to hold him in place. She inhales harsh against the confines of her corset and he, too, feels suddenly tight in the chest.

“You know what this reminds me of?” she practically sings into his neck — has him sofuckingglad he decided to forgo that awful stiff collar and luckily she doesn’t mind that he can’t possibly form words right then.

“London,” Isseya answers her own question in bites across his throat, “and the rack Our Beloved had brought from the Tower… how you stretched and begged for it to end.”

Glad though he is that the attempt at distracting her with delightful things has worked Cynbel can’t help but wonder what price he’s about to pay for it. Not that he isn’t stiff in his hose — but they do have to make an appearance at some point in the night.

And Valdas will start to get worried if they do not show their faces soon.

She pulls back with eyes dark and greedy. Not too far, though, when he snaps blunted teeth forward to claim her lower lip for his own. Watching, transfixed, the way it comes back to her shining wet under the distant candlelight.

“Because I wasn’t tall enough already?”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Cynbel snakes an arm around his lover’s waist and, all teasing aside, claims her in a familiar kiss. Familiar in that they have explored one another so intimately and so often that their bodies are one in the same; that the fabric and flesh between them no more than a false reality.

They part; trade lips for foreheads, and breathe in the silence together. As one.

“Should this night be our last night…”

He stops her there. A finger to her lips that curls to lift her chin. She is a proud creature, his darling Isseya; her head simply demands to be held high.

“Stop. You think me so foolish—nay—so weak? This is merely another night, one of many passed and many to come.”

“You cannot control everything.”

“Watch me.”

He has every confidence that they will survive the trials soon to come. They have weathered every storm, every war, every plague. This, too, they will overcome.

The masques they take from their hips to fasten are as rich as they are detailed. Perfectly carved to their features and even now he gazes upon her with a reverence. Such beauty, and to be seen beautiful by it, was worth living for.

She takes his offered hand and with it some of the fire in his eyes. No words between them, they move as one to round the last steps before the tunnel opens outward and upward into splendor.

The vaulted ceilings are a surprise; as far down beneath the earth as they are. A promise of life and freedom that the world above could never truly give them not even in the nighttime. Chandeliers hang high overhead with candles deep in their flames.

Across the ballroom — they are not the last to arrive. Similarly decorated vampires coming alone and with companions at two doorways just as open and inviting. From all corners of Paris they flock here tonight.

He looks and finds Isseya surveying him warily. So much for distraction.

“A bit cramped in here, wouldn’t you say?” There are more attendees than you assumed.

“We’re under the greatest city in the world my love. I’m sure we’ll find the room.” Then we improvise. Nothing has changed.

Nothing has. If anything their chances of living through the things to come have only grown higher.

Even in the crowd their hearts yearn for who they know stands within. Can feel themselves drawn to him, pulled along by a force more powerful than their understanding.

Yet in crossing the length of the room they are seen; more than that they are witnessed. The status their masques signify earns them collective gasps and bows alike; lesser hoping to placate what they only understand to be more than they are. More than they ever will be; for some tonight.

There are always casualties in war.

Together Cynbel and Isseya come across the only masque that could earn their respect; the only thing older than they. Would bow together anyway, would dirty the hems and knees of their finery if that was what he asked of them. Because that is the proper way to treat a god.

That is the proper way to treat their god.

Valdas looks them over with warmth that quickly ignites hot, passionate. He has always appreciated the beauty of his beloveds but this night there is a sense of urgency and finality with every action in which they partake. The greater the risk the greater the reward.

Hungry is their god — who cannot wait even for Cynbel to come up from his bow of respect before grabbing onto the man’s doublet to pull their mouths together. A kiss met with equal fervor and delight, and no less devoted when shared to their darling.

Those old enough enough to remember the days before reservation and propriety, few and far between though they are, say nothing. Those left avert their gaze and know better than to challenge masques so revealing.

“I was starting to worry you’d lost your way.” Valdas glances between his lovers; their mischief not lost on him.

“We simply took a scenic path.”

“And did it suit you?”

“As only death could.”

When they turn out to observe the party so far it is as they do everything — together as one. His gods touch finds its way into his hair and Cynbel pays no thought to it. It is sacrament, after all.

“Were the rumors true?” asks Isseya in a low breath. It earns the pair of them a heavy sigh.

“Indeed.”

“Then we should away.”

Cynbel stifles a derisive snort. “Absolutely not.”

“What you have set in motion is all the more reason.” When she speaks it is earnest and out of love. They know this. But equally she knows they are warriors first. That they crave blood for sport as well as feast.

“While the idea of the Godmaker’s head on one of their silver blades is enough to send me into a passionate heat —”

“Cynbel.”

“We’re among alike company, Valdas.”

“You don’t know that for certain.”

“Really,” the taller man scans the crowd with a knowing eye, “I do.”

A hush falls over the crowded ballroom — dashes away Isseya’s idle fancies of fleeing before they are found. None other than the man himself could garner such a reaction.

Between them the Made-God grows tense. His lovers share arms around him on instinct — natural and without hesitation.

They enter in deadly beauty, arms lain together with an air of presentation. See us, it says, and know your place under our heel. The response it draws is immediate. None dare allow themselves to be in the way of the King and Queen of Vampires.

And they bask in the attention like gluttons. The Bloodqueen smiles much in the same way as when they last had met — the sultry curve of lips that keeps the viewer in a trance only so that they cannot gaze up to see how it does not reach her eyes. And him — he smiles because he means it. Because he need not ask for respect from the masses, not anymore.

They stop in the middle of the floor and are given a wide berth. Gaius tightens his grip on the handle of his masque before he lets it fall from his face; the only one who could dare to pull off such an outrageous act in present company.

“Friends, subjects, loyalists;” he addresses the gathering with pride already swollen in his chest, “your welcome to this our finest achievement has been a gracious one. To see you all gathered here, to see so many of our kind in one place and pridefully so, is a gift the value of I could never have imagined.”

“Always the wordsmith, Gaius mon chér.”

She emerges from the adoring crowd a vision in red. Velvet gown swept up in dainty hand as she comes up on Cynbel’s open side without so much as a glance. The filigree of her masque dazzles in the firelight; intimate gold that frames the upper half of her face to both conceal and reveal.

A bold choice none but the hostess of the evening could aspire to.

She greets Kamilah as an old friend; takes their hands together and presses delicate Parisian kisses on either cheek. Knows the eyes of nearly every vampire in Europe are upon her as she gives a flourishing curtsy with the kiss she bestows on Gaius’ ring.

“I cannot tell you how pleased I am you could attend us tonight,” continues she, “though I will admit I was near to giving up — what with my last five invitations all met with refusal.”

Something flashes in Kamilah’s eye. Has her hand back on that of her King quickly — in restraint.

“Not refusal, Serafine. We were merely indisposed.”

And she understands. “You shall have to regale me the tales.”

“Shall we now?” asks Gaius with a raised brow. It earns him a coy smirk from the Lady Serafine.

“I insist. But now is the time for revelry! Continuer, mes amis!” On her signal the musicians resume their tune, tentative conversation growing strong once again.

To hide would be a fool’s notion. And the Trinity have been called many things, but fools not a word among them.

Demons and the Devil himself. Bloodthirsty pagans. Hellish temptations.

But never fools. The world knows better than that.

The Godmaker and his firstborn share a long look even as heads in their decorated masques and boisterous dress weave between them. Kamilah’s stare goes hard at the sight of him and for that Cynbel cannot help but feel accomplished in some way.

And because he’s in such a delightfully cheery mood — because he knows — he grins and dares a cheeky wink.

Dares only in that the sudden sting of Isseya’s claws on his upper arm is so very very worth it.

They know what must be done, now. At their god’s back the lovers stand as they approach.

“Valdemaras,” Gaius says as he offers his ring in the same way. And without hesitation—he knows better by now, they all do; this tenuous arrangement of theirs—Valdas bestows his kiss.

“Augustine.”

Nothing could ruin the Golden Son’s jubilance. Nothing.

“Little lotus,” he croons to Kamilah even as her mouth turns downward, “you’re looking in good health.”

Whatever she wants to say, she doesn’t. Bites her tongue enough for the brightest flash of copper to make the tip of his nose twitch.

Their darling goes still as stone when the Godmaker bows to her; nothing reverent but more of a courtly finesse. But as he waits she comes to realize it is her he waits upon; offers up the back of her hand clutching her fan in pale knuckles for him to kiss.

See, we can be civil. Now you must be, too.

Palpable tension such as theirs isn’t lost on the other guests, though, especially on one so close as their hostess. Who takes everyone by surprise when she dares speak of it.

“Ah, c'est intéressant,” as a loose curl falls in the eyeline of her masque, “the stories those looks could tell. Friends of yours, Kamilah chérie?”

She hesitates, as if deciding whether or not to answer.

“I believe you know of them by reputation,” — obviously, as Isseya made quite sure of that upon their arrival earlier that season — “what is that silly name of yours again, Cynbel?”

Lucky his masque hides the curl of his upper lip.

“If we’re to speak of silly things —”

“I present my lovers; Cynbel and Isseya,” Valdas interrupts, probably best for them all, and takes both of their hands in offering to the Lady, “you may call me Valdas.”

A flash of recognition in the Frenchwoman’s calculating gaze.

“Ah… Les Trois Amants.”

Isseya’s chin raises with pride. “And you can be no other than tonight’s hostess, no? Mademoiselle Dupont.”

“Please, call me Serafine.”

“Such informality…”

“It breeds a certain… intimacy, non?”

Her lovers need not worry of her — but what they know and what they do are different things. None in their little circle miss the way Valdas’ hand tightens over hers and the angle of Cynbel’s body as if to cover her from such intimate eyes. Instinct for them both; to claim and be claimed by one another for all to see.

Thankfully the pleasantries are made to end there. The soft tunes of conversation dying on instrumental lips as the concert prepares to begin playing for the first dance of the midnight hour.

“Mademoiselle, may I have he honor of your prestige?”

Even Gaius has a hard time concealing his surprise when Serafine’s hand comes out in offering to Isseya. Objectively they all understand — know the worth of a millennia by virtue of living it. But some things just simply aren’t fucking done.

Isseya knows this and still accepts. Takes their hands with a sparkle of mischief in her eye before they away to take up positions within the circle gathering on the dance floor.

Paranoia only begins to breed when Cynbel watches the Godmaker’s hand fall on the middle of Valdas’ lower back. “My prestige is yours, Valdemaras.” Not that he is given the choice — is already being led to follow.

Which leaves…

“No.”

Cynbel’s eyebrows barely raise in surprise. Not that he’s entirely inclined to do so with her, either, but they seem to have little say in the matter.

“You would rather take the first dance with someone so mundane?” He sweeps a lazy gesture across the floor. “You know none save our companions are even close enough in age.”

Kamilah’s eyes narrow; she scans the floor for those left unpartnered as though someone will spring miraculous from the stone with enough years under their belt to not serve as a grave insult to her.

He doesn’t have to look. No one else will do.

“I doubt one dance will be the end of you, little lotus.” Offering his hand in defeat for them both.

“You give yourself too much credit.”

“Luckily ‘tis not my credit you need, but my prestige.”

They slide in together, hand in hand, moments before the waltz begins. No effort made on behalf of either to keep the disdain from bleeding through their garb to stain the floor at their feet.

This is simply the way things are done in polite society. They know this. Both of them helped shape it in their own way. They’ve certainly had the time to.

With their betters paired off it was simply the only way to save face. For either of them to dance with one of the lesser attendees would have been tantamount to suicide of status. No other vampire in attendance could have been over a millennium—not even the Lady Serafine. But being a hostess had its perks, and Cynbel could attest… his darling Isseya was so very worth it.

One of the violinists drags the first note out; a true delight to perform for an audience with hearing unsurpassed.

Cynbel lays his hand on the cusp of her waist. Kamilah squeezes his hand hard enough to grind bone. Good, he would expect nothing less than resistance.

Humans held court to catch a glimpse of their betters. For their kind it was this — La Valse de Prestige, the Prestige Waltz. Faces trained on their partners all around but eyes unable to help themselves in how they wander.

There is no slow build. There is only the abrupt beginning, and the flurry of the dance.

Here lay the ability—nay the obligation—to pass judgment on one another. On who danced with whom; on what masque partnered with another. For many it was a matter of life and death. For the likes of the Trinity, of the Godmaker and his Queen it was a chance to see a new breed of blooded potential. For the rest; a fruitless attempt to climb the staircase.

Only it wasn’t so much a staircase as a sheer cliff dropping off into an abyss.

Even in the confines of her dress Kamilah’s movements are limber and fluid. He hardly has to guide her at all.

“You look well.”

“If you are attempting to make me falter —”

“Which would look terrible on behalf of us both. Can I not give a simple compliment?”

“No, you cannot.”

Hands joined they follow the motions; fling themselves outward with faces turned away. Cynbel sees Isseya in almost direct opposite. Their eyes meet and as one they see their beloved focused on his own movements on the far curve of the room.

And they pity him. Know firsthand how beautifully he can dance… but in the hands of the Godmaker he is made mortal again — if only for a short while.

His exact argument against coming tonight, and why they had never ventured to the crypts with their beautiful promises of community before.

If they were lucky, perhaps the events of the night would change that.

What was the phrase, ah yes. To kill two birds with one stone.

“For a man so craven to violence, you feign deep thought quite well.”

Blue eyes unfix themselves from a rapidly-changing distance to lay on the Bloodqueen. “Was that you asking what my mind wanders to?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why say anything at all?”

Of course he knows why; the din of hushed conversation is all around them. Attuned ears catch the familiar bell of Isseya’s laughter. A couple at his back carry on a hissed debate over Cynbel and Kamilah’s statuses — why their masques are so revealing and embellished.

They are a gaping void of silence in comparison. But he’d rather she say it.

She doesn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Very well,” clicking his tongue—he dares to be civil with the woman who nearly left him to join the ashes that littered Pompeii, “when did you and the Godmaker set sights on Paris?”

“France has been home to our court for several decades now.”

Our court. Two words that drag his sights along the room. Surely not this court, not with the surprise at his attendance as there had been. “And before that?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“I’m writing a memoir.”

“Of course you are. Always such a learned thing you were, preferring the company of books over bloodshed.”

Rouged lips tick in her effort not to smirk. Personally he finds her wit humorless and dry.

“If you must know… we only recently came up from the Mediterranean. There was rumor out of Venice that sent us into hiding; a hunter who had felled the great Bloodqueen.”

She is strong but still so young. What a difference two thousand years makes; in the eyes and in the mind, in the control of the body. But there is still a mystery that can render even the oldest of their line a prisoner to their impulses.

He knows it well.

He lets their eyes meet; holds her captive with the light stroke of his thumb along the outside of her index finger. A direct touch; a private one. But enough to release the sudden grasp of iron at his words.

There is a part of Cynbel that relishes in her silent suffering. Because even the sight of her reminds him of Rome, of his Lord taking a knee to keep his lovers alive.

And then there is a part that feels her pain as his own. Who remembers the howl of his own bleeding lungs at the sight of the sword that nearly came down on Isseya’s neck. Too soon, too soon.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” is all he says. And he hopes that, even if for the rest of their dance, she believes him.

The music ends as abrupt as it began. Almost as if the musicians were taken in the middle of the piece — but they all know better. The Prestige Waltz is a symbol as much as it is a dance. And are they not all to be ended with a swift act of a cruel fate?

Around them bows and curtsies of thanks. The orchestra starts up a far more leisurely tune. The formalities are done.

Cynbel gently pries himself from the little lotus’ grasp. Kisses the back of her hand and risks everything to whisper against her skin.

“I would not be displeased if you survived tonight.”

Kamilah tugs her hand back and the inevitable question that he will not answer is poised on her lips — but the return of his lovers is reason enough for Cynbel to take a more permanent leave of her.

“I like her.”

He snaps a look to Isseya, very nearly alarmed, before the realization that she stares at Serafine with delight edging on desire.

“She certainly knows how to throw a party.”

They both linger in a half-silence; so familiar now that a voice should follow but it does not. And has them turning, in sync, to Valdas’ silence with curiosity.

They comfort him as only they can; her touch on a cheek, his hand at a waist. Giving him only the praise and adoration their Made-God deserves even when he looks as he does now — when he looks as though he does not.

Such times are when he needs it most.

When Valdas finally speaks it is with crimson eyes. Once following the Godmaker’s eyes move across the floor now given just as intensely to Cynbel much to his surprise.

“Your amusement for tonight must be postponed.”

Surely he speaks madness. “Not even your divinity could do such, darling.”

“Do whatever you must — but none shall come upon us tonight.”

So foreign is how Valdas pulls from his lovers’ touches that they are left, for a moment, unmoored.

“It cannot be done.” Cynbel repeats in fewer words. Harder, clipped.

“It must.”

“It. cannot.”

The hand Valdas runs over his own face trembles with the weight of him. “Then we are all doomed.”

He tries all he can; reaches out but finds his touch rejected — outright rejected. Tries to speak but the words simply never ring right in his ears. Companionship for as long as they have had comes with its share of arguments but this…

Something so small, so inconsequential. Yet the disappointment brimming from his Love and Light is… rattling to say the least.

Yet the answer is as plain as day.

“Does he know?”

Here in their secrecy they dare not chance a look. Cynbel has already risked enough saying what he has to his consort.

It’s a relief to them all when Valdas shakes his head. “Not quite. But that means so little. And with him here… they could never hope to win anyway.”

“It isn’t my intent to let them win. And should he fall prey to their righteous hands… well all the better.”

Not for the first time Valdas silences him with a kiss. Bruising and harsh; holding his jaw in place because he is commanded to accept such a gift. As if he could do anything less.

“Cynbel, my Golden Son…” They pull from one another with obvious reluctance. Foreheads resting as their blind hands search and find sanctuary in that of their third.

He isn’t prepared to hear the crack in his love’s voice. It wounds him far worse than a stake ever could.

“Please. Save your appetite for another night.”

“What is done cannot be undone.”

Isseya steps between them. Steals a kiss in offering from them both. The temple of her always demanding more, more, more that they give her without hesitation.

“You cannot fault him for that.” Because she knows her strengths Isseya punctuates her words with a forlorn twinkle of the eye. Squeezes Cynbel’s hand behind her and he knows — knows even gods are made pliable under such a gaze.

The music picks back up before Valdas can speak. All around them the cacophony of merriment and delight and they cannot let their worries cut through such a veil lest they be discovered… something even their Maker knows.

“On your head be it.”

His dismissal is clear. And something Cynbel will not take lightly. He takes that benevolent hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Trust that I will keep you safe, my Light, my Love. As I always have.” He dares to look upwards and is met with tragedy in dark eyes. “As I always will.”

A shock of red pulls from the dancing crowd towards them and the Trinity pull from one another — close but not uneasily so.

When the Lady Serafine takes them in her mirth wavers for the briefest moment. Something that cannot be helped — something about them has always roused suspicion even in the merriest of souls.

They are close; closer than can be defined with words in any language, closer than anyone can understand. That kind of devotion creates a wall between them and the world.

It is meant to.

“I had hope to pull you into the revelry… but perhaps it would be out of turn of me.” Even with half of her face hidden her hesitance is transparent.

Valdas steps forward — one breath quicker than his lovers — and offers their hostess his arm.

“We would be the ones out of turn to decline the lady her dance.” He muses; smiles down as she takes his upper arm softly, tugs him towards the mingling array.

The look he throws back to his lovers is a reassuring one.

Enjoy the night while you can.

The intent is to take the hands of the next partner — something the rest of the circle does with ease.

Yet as Cynbel looks down… down… down until he rests his eyes on his would-be partner he stops and finds himself unsure.

How is he to proceed when his partner is…

“Are you well, monsieur?” Yet even when the child asks it is clear he has no intention of letting the taller vampire get away so easily. Grasps Cynbel’s hands with his own and the comparison in size is almost astounding enough to trip his feet. As it is — he’s now more conscious of every step than ever.

“Quite.” Not as smooth of a save as he would prefer, but better than none.

A familiar trilling laughter whirls his head to the sight of Isseya with an unfamiliar man. Her eyes, as ever, fixated on her golden lover. Much to her partner’s obvious chagrin.

The child whirls the pair of them wild and free and with all the abandon of youth.

“The pleasure is all mine!”

“Indeed.”

Help me, his silent cry to Valdas; who has taken up with a slim woman obscured fully by her masque. His act of generosity for the night.

As predicted the moment his lover pulls himself from her grasp she is flocked by other, less prestigious attendees eager to bask in the attention given by someone so old.

He approaches them calmly — calmer than Cynbel would like but appearance is everything even at the eleventh hour — and easily slides his lover from the young man’s embrace.

“Forgive me, Marcel,” he muses to the child, “but I find myself wilting without my beloved’s touch.”

Marcel, with an air of familiarity Cynbel doesn’t quite understand, coos at the pair of them before skipping off to a different part of the room. His boisterous demeanor seems equally repulsive to his chosen victim; a surly man with a surlier masque in armor that doesn’t quite shine like it should.

He keeps note of that. The only one adequately prepared for what is to come.

“I know that look.”

A crooked finger under his chin draws Cynbel’s attention away and to the center of his world. To the hesitance he sees still but not without its own resignation. That his god humors him still is a blessing without compare.

“What look?” He’s always feigned innocence terribly.

He interrupts the purse of Valdas’ lips with a kiss. Tangles his fingers in dark hair like staining himself with shadow and cares little for anyone who might be watching. Their kind may try to keep up with the social niceties of humanity but they will never be ruled by it.

“You are not the only soldier here, my Golden One.”

“Good, then they may stand a fighting chance.”

“And will you rally them?”

“Hardly. This is between Baltasar and myself; another battle in our seemingly endless war.”

He continues even when a hand claps over his mouth. Even when his god’s eyes bleed red and chance hasty looks to assure they are unheard.

To utter such a name in present company may very well doom them all.

“Relax, my divine love — I would not speak were I worried of discovery.”

“I doubt that.”

“You doubt me?”

“Only in that I know your desire for bloodshed is enough to fill the Seine to brimming.”

The smile such a compliment earns is, obviously, not meant for so. Yet even at the pout of Valdas’ bottom lip Cynbel cannot help but feel proud to be known as such.

He gathers his Maker close with one arm; protects him from the world as he always has. As he always will. “Everything I do, I do for you and Isseya.” Peppering kisses across his tanned throat just shy of the stiff collar. “Even now it may seem petty or trifling, but when we are free of their wretched hounds at our heels you will understand.”

It takes longer than he’s used to but eventually the inevitable comes — eventually Valdas does yield to each touch. Though not without a sigh of his own; his own way of saying he does not approve, but he will not stand in the way.

It is a middle ground to which they have grown familiar.

He is always forgiven.

It is a break in the heavy clouds which have hung over the vampires of Paris for too long. A brief flicker of moonlight which they bathe in, frolic through not unlike the pagans of old. There are even a few times in which — only to be certain there is no suspicion to be found — Cynbel looks to see true enjoyment on the Godmaker’s carved features.

A sight that makes him ill.

Following a dance that certainly could have been performed with the entirety of her ensemble but was much better enjoyed in nothing but her underclothes, Isseya drapes herself over the back of the chair both her lovers occupy. Not a space to fit two grown men but like everything they make it work.

She leans forward expectantly and devoted as they are the men comply; showering her throat with kisses and bites worthy of the envy the less prestigious among their kind have thrown their way all evening.

“Do you think they might begin to grow suspicious?” she asks idle; winding her clutches at the backs of their heads as possessive as they are thoughtless. An act of instinct.

Cynbel flicks the tip of his tongue over the shell of her ear. “Why would they?”

“We’ve a reputation for abandoning these affairs for our own.”

“They should be honored by our continued presence.”

“And yet whispers abound.”

He pulls back to watch his lovers where their temples touch. To bask in the glow they create together. Almost seems a shame to ruin an evening of their radiance but… no.

That’s just a little seed of doubt. Something to carve out of him like fleshrot.

“That my heart —” thumb brushing over Isseya’s lips, “— and my soul —” other hand cupping the strong angle of Valdas’ jaw, “— continue to doubt me so is insult enough. Lest they forget that I do this for them and the pleasure I take from it is not solely selfish in nature.”

Walking away from them is a difficult thing; always has been, always will be. But difficult things are merely difficult — not impossible. And one more word from them against him may just be the spark that ignites his smothered temper.

He hears them call out but resists the impulse to turn back. Leaves the merriment through one of the few doorways and casts off his masque as he does. Prestige, masques; he could care less for the things that can be bought and bribed into.

Let them meet him across a battlefield with naught but their hands as fists and see, then, that he will always win. Such is the way of the soldier, of the hunter. Of the primordial creatures they are yet seem to have forgotten.

He throws a fist in a fit of rage. Watches it collide with the wall of bone with a sickeningly delighted crunch that breaks the face of a skull off into little pieces. So fragile, so withering.

So fucking satisfying to see.

“At what point do they cease to become faces?”

Without her masque she is of the same beauty, though perhaps with more emotion about her now no longer hidden.

Serafine’s fingertips trail along the rows of foreheads; some still with places for the eyes and jawbones and some not unlike the poor victim of Cynbel’s rage.

Dirt and bone dust gathers on the heavy fabric at the train of her dress. She doesn’t seem to mind.

He holds her gaze as he reaches out to an almost perfectly preserved skull. Caresses the voided eyes with his fingertips and hooks his thumb through a gap in the teeth. All it takes is the slightest twitch of muscle — no longer preserved almost or not.

Serafine flinches; a telling thing he does not miss.

“I would assume when I do that.”

“I mean the faces behind the bone. To whom these lonely heads once belonged.”

He regards her with a glint in his eye. “I heard tell of the far-reaching influence of the Mademoiselle Dupont but I had no idea she knew so many.”

The coy smile that tugs at her lips is forced. An easy thing — the hallmark of a woman used to the machinations of courtly intrigue. She could learn a thing or two from his darling girl; she does so without tell.

But the silence between them echoes. Hard and bright. It makes him sigh.

“If one sees a sea of bones and plucks them by identity, they will do so regardless of whether they are alive or dead.”

A bold thing to admit. There is power in truth but when the truth is soaked in the blood of ages…

“I am sorry if this is not the answer you were looking for.”

“Non, no… I would rather the reality than a beautiful lie. We carry such lies enough, do we not?” Cynbel raises an eyebrow; there is no vanity in the way she tucks a lock of curls behind her ear. “You and I would be no different than these bones, were our bodies to show the years. Yet we remain beautiful well into eternity.”

“Some more than others.”

“Indeed.”

But that isn’t the reason the hostess abandoned her own affair. Now is it?

When she looks from one dead thing to another Serafine is met with expectant eyes. She has the decency to feign a flush.

“Forgive me—but what sort of hostess would I be were I not to entertain all of my guests?”

“You have entertained us enough.”

“‘Us?’”

Cynbel stills his exploratory hand. “My lovers and I.”

Us — we — always a unity. Together even when they are apart.

The woman nods. “Ah, oui. I count myself among the lucky few to have been graced with their prestige this night. But not yet from you. It leaves a woman to wonder why.”

“I doubt it has escaped your keen notice, Mademoiselle Dupont, that my social skills are lackluster in comparison to my better selves.”

“And you would not stray from such notions even for the sake of propriety?”

It makes him snort a laugh — a noise that takes his companion by surprise. Brings an easily-detectable pity to his eyes.

“Now it is I who must be forgiven.”

“For what, monsieur?”

“For in any way giving you the impression that I am proper.”

Laughable, really. A joke he will think of fondly for years to come when all this is done.

And should she have any doubts in his words he would have those cast aside, too. Closing the gap between them in a single stride. Escape through such narrow corridors more than a fleeting whimsy as he leans against the burial wall to take her in.

Cynbel would be lying if he said the minute trembling of her under the touch of his thumb was not exciting.

There is a different fear in their kind than that of humans. Humans are always afraid. But vampires… no no. Vampires fear with reason, cause; knowledge. They fear things that deserve to be feared. Things that have earned it.

And he has earned it so.

“A room full of admirers, the progenitor of our lineage, the prestige of the Bloodqueen—of Les Trois Amants, or two of three anyway, tucked beneath your skirts…”

With thumb and forefinger Cynbel raises her chin; easily tilted upwards to his unabashed amusement, “I find it hard to believe a hostess with such pretty achievements to crown herself with would willingly follow a single solemn soul because of something as silly as duty.”

The change under his hand is equally a delight. How Serafine steels herself; hardened eyes and a clenched jaw and command dripping from painted lips.

“Believe me, or do not. That is —”

“I do not believe you, no. I believe someone sent you out here to me. A little lotus, perhaps?”

Regret, like a shooting star in the endless sky. There one moment and gone in a flash; burned behind the eyelids but never to be seen again.

He should not have told her.

Inconsequential.

“You would do well to back. away.”

The chance to answer—or act—never comes. Not when the ground rumbles over their heads and noises foreign to all but the valiant begin to trail in on the same chord as the silenced orchestra. Then the thundering boom of a cannon, of doors blown from their hinges and the singing opera of swords torn from their sheaths.

“Finally…” Cynbel exhales like ecstasy; picturesque like the trembling waif on her wedding night.

The armies of the faithful have arrived.

#bloodbound #bloodbound fanfiction #choices fanfiction #gaius augustine #kamilah sayeed #serafine dupont #oc: cynbel #oc: valdas #oc: isseya #oblv: bound by choice #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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kes-au · 4 years

Text

Cult Unawares

You have been kidnapped by a cult preparing to sacrifice you to their god. Problems? You’re immortal, the god they worship is a close friend of yours and the entire cult was the result of a prank you forgot you pulled centuries ago.

Jared returned to consciousness with an irritated snarl, he did not have time for this bullshit. Things were finally moving, pieces falling into place and he wanted to watch while that tepid little man who thought he could take a dragon’s hoard without consequence realised his horrible mistake.

He sat up, assessing himself, yep, still in human form, and then his surroundings, small, square room, single basic bed, single basic window with bars, at least they’d had the courtesy to draw the curtains. Now should he sneak, or blast his way out of here?

Then he noticed the insignia above the door. He looked around again. Shit, the damn thing was everywhere. That was one of the problems with the type of human attracted to cults, they tended to go overboard on everything.And now he was going to have to deal with the consequences of what, at the time had been an epically good prank.

Dragons, now as always, were few and far between and with any small society, they all knew, or knew of each other. Of the dragons he knew, his closest friend was Daemon and they had whiled away many tedious decades by constructing huge and elaborate pranks to confound, then amuse, the other.

It was generally agreed that Jared’s creation of a new religion, with Daemon as its unwitting god, was the best of the lot. The icing on the cake was the incorporation of the one magic suppressing rune that actually worked on dragons into the main motif of the cult’s key symbol.

Whenever a Daemon-cultist caught sight of his friend, they would start chasing after him in some sort of religious fervour, brandishing this magic-blocking rune. It had gotten slightly out of hand for a little while, but a nicely staged defeat and death of Daemon at the hands of a rather glorious angel who owed him a favour had put an end to the worship.

Jared had razed the temples a few years after they’d all been abandoned and thought no more of it.

That had been well over two hundred years ago, maybe more like three, or even five. It was a bit hard to keep track. He’d forgotten all about it but it appeared those idiot humans hadn’t. Or some new group of twits had discovered it and wanted another go.

The upshot was that he was stuck. His magic was useless until he could get away from these damn runes. He couldn’t even transform back into his real body.

He wondered why the group had decided to kidnap him. Movement outside the door made him hope he was about to get answers.

The door was flung open and three wild-eyed, bearded men rushed the room, stopping just inside the door when they realised he was sitting on the bed, blinking at them in confusion.

A fourth man waited until they’d all looked at each other for a bit, then strolled in. Jared groaned internally. If this guy was in any way in charge, this was going to get very tedious, very quickly. Anyone who thought heavy robes, stinking dirt and a deranged grin was a good look, tended to also like things like torture, sacrifice and lots of screaming. Provided they weren’t the ones being tortured or sacrificed. Jared had done some research into this in the past.

“Rejoice, miserable boy, for you have been chosen!”

Boy? Jared couldn’t decide between a snort of disbelief and an eye-roll of disdain, so he did both. They didn’t work as well together as he’d hoped.

One of the guards glared, “I don’t see why the honour should go to an unbeliever. Only the most holy should be sacrificed to the great Demon.”

Jared facepalmed, they couldn’t even get their own god’s name right! This was not going to go well.

The old fanatic started to shriek, "You are being brought before the greatest and most powerful being in the universe, you will be awed and overwhelmed before his magnificence."

"He's going to be seriously underwhelmed by you if you don't get his name right."

Another of the guards looked at him blankly, "What?"

Jared eye rolled again, "His name is Daemon, not Demon. A demon is a little red guy with a pointy tail and horns, hangs out in hell and pokes people with a pitchfork. Daemon isn't red, or small and he finds hell tedious."

Old guy was close to frothing at the mouth, "Silence! How dare you blaspheme in the temple of our Most Mighty."

"Just trying to keep you out of trouble."

The curious guard asked, "So how do you know all this?"

Jared considered the 'old friend' explanation but decided it might be pushing things, "I'm an archaeologist who specialises in lost religions and cults. The Daemonist one was quite interesting, although short-lived."

The guard opened his mouth again but was cut off by the priest (at least Jared assumed that's what he was), "Enough! Bring the unbeliever to the main altar."

Jared pouted, he was rather warming to the topic and thought the guard showed a glimmer of intelligence that was most unusual for someone who'd chosen to not wash for a month and run around with dangerous weapons and no training while screaming unintelligibly.

One of the other guards grabbed Jared's upper arm and pulled him off the bed, then hustled him out of the door in the wake of the old man. The other two took up the rear.

Jared looked around the corridor, very few lights, more damn symbols. This lot needed to find better things to do with their time.

He was taken down several more corridors. The lighting system was rudimentary to say the least, a bunch of what looked to be camping lanterns, hung at irregular intervals, with cables hanging from the ceiling or wall in between each. So, he could wipe out pretty much all the lights in this area from a single point. They really had no idea what they were doing.

He was led through a door and stopped, blinking, trying to adjust to the bright light. He rolled his eyes again. Looked like he didn't do a good enough job of flattening one of Daemon's minor temples.

The roof of the main hall was completely gone and he was standing in the full glare of the mid afternoon sun. Other than the missing lid, the whole thing looked irritatingly whole and undamaged. He must have been distracted that day.

He frowned, trying to remember. Ah, that's right, his angel had dropped by and convinced him to go exploring in a nearby catacomb. He'd added some very nice pieces to his hoard in that trip.

HOARD! He growled. All this messing about was keeping him from getting revenge on that smug little worm who'd made off with his treasures. It was time to focus.

Of course he was still completely surrounded by that cursed rune. He wondered what form the sacrifice was going to take. It was likely to get a bit embarrassing rather quickly. Immortal beings had a nasty habit of not dying, even if they were cut off from their magic. The immortal part was a feature, not an accessory.

He looked around at the row of silent, robed and hooded figures lining the walls of the room as he was herded towards the central altar and Jared wondered what would happen next. Sacrifice had played no part in the original religion. It was a prank, hurting anyone, even silly humans, was completely against the rules.

He’d made sure every temple built to Daemon had included a throne for their god to sit on to receive their worship. Daemon, of course, had never gone near a single one.

This throne, however, was occupied.

He surprised his captors by shaking off their hold and striding forward, stopping on the near side of the altar, frowning at the figure perched on the great stone chair behind it.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Um, I’m Demon.”

“The god this temple was built to worship was Daemon and I can assure you, you’re not him.”

The figure’s eyes widened and they glanced from side to side, then lowered their voice to a whisper that carried every bit as far as their normal voice had.

“Can you maybe not let on? I’m trying to get hold of him, or Jared, and I hoped upending one of their old jokes would catch their attention.”

“Why?”

“Why should you not give me away?”

“You’ve already done that yourself you twit. Why do you want to get in touch with Jared or Daemon? And why the hell didn’t you just email?”

“You can do that?”

“Well I can. I’m waiting to hear why you can’t.”

“BLASPHEMER!”

Jared looked around, ah yes, the old idiot and his guards. His questioner from earlier was now hanging on to the goggle-eyed priest, holding him back, while pretending to hold him up. Jared made a mental note to do something nice for him at some point.

He grinned and hopped up to sit cross-legged on the altar, “So which of us is blaspheming? Me, or the impostor on the throne?”

He wasn’t sure if it was his words, or his actions that sent the shockwave across his audience, it was fun either way.

The person behind him ignored the humans, "But you know how to get hold of them?"

Jared spun to face him, he'd hear if any of those twits tried to sneak up on him, "Of course I do, but I'm not going to until you tell me who you are and why I should."

The answer came from behind him, "He wants to meet his father."

Jared turned slowly, to a new figure, standing in what had been the grand entrance, and was now a grand couple of pillars. She had her back to the sun but he knew that voice.

"And who might his father be, angel?"

She walked forward, and the hooded congregation started to scramble for any exit they could find. No one in their right mind stayed around when an angel looked angry.

Jared, on the other hand, leaned back and watched her approach with a grin. That rune blocked her magic too.

She stopped when she stood right before him at the altar, "He's yours Jared."

Jared speared upright, grin gone, "And you didn't tell me? What the hell angel? That's low."

She looked down, shamefaced, "I made the mistake of telling management I was pregnant. They scooped me off duty and away from all contact so fast I never had a chance and once he was born, well it just got harder and harder."

There was a scramble on the throne behind them, "Wait a minute, HE'S my dad?"

Jared looked at the slender young man jumping onto the altar to join them, the resemblance was striking, "Apparently so, and you have a lot of explaining to do. I refuse to believe your mother brought you up thinking that starting cults and organising human sacrifices was acceptable behaviour."

#wordsnstuff #story prompt #words n stuff

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sneakend · 5 years

Photo

Here’s part 2/3 of the Halloween horror movie rec list I made. [part 1] [part 3]

✄ ✄ ✄

Murderous animals

Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid (2004) (x)

“A scientific expedition sets out for Borneo to seek a flower called the Blood Orchid, which could grant longer life. Meanwhile, they run afoul of snakes and each other.”

Black Sheep (2006) (x)

“An experiment in genetic engineering turns harmless sheep into bloodthirsty killers that terrorize a sprawling New Zealand farm.”

Jaws (1975) (x)

“When a killer shark unleashes chaos on a beach community, it's up to a local sheriff, a marine biologist, and an old seafarer to hunt the beast down.”

Tremors (1990) (x)

“Natives of a small isolated town defend themselves against strange underground creatures which are killing them one by one.”

Zombeavers (2014) (x)

“A fun weekend turns into madness and horror for a bunch of groupies looking for fun in a beaver infested swamp.”

Vampires

30 Days of Night (2007) (x) (x)

“After an Alaskan town is plunged into darkness for a month, it is attacked by a bloodthirsty gang of vampires.”

Bloody Mallory (2002) (x)

“Heroines Mallory, Vena Cava and Talking Tina fight the fallen angel Abaddon and his accomplices vampire Lady Valentine and succubus Morphine.”

From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) (x)

“Two criminals and their hostages unknowingly seek temporary refuge in a truck stop populated by vampires, with chaotic results.”

Thirst (2009) (x)

“Through a failed medical experiment, a priest is stricken with vampirism and is forced to abandon his ascetic ways.”

The Twins Effect (2003) (x)

“It's a high-kicking battle on the dark side when an ace vampire slayer and his beautiful sidekicks wage the ultimate martial-arts showdown with one of the most dangerous of the undead.”

What We Do in the Shadows (2014) (x)

“Viago, Deacon and Vladislav are vampires who are finding that modern life has them struggling with the mundane - like paying rent, keeping up with the chore wheel, trying to get into nightclubs and overcoming flatmate conflicts.”

Zombies

Dead Snow (2009) (x)

“A ski vacation turns horrific for a group of medical students, as they find themselves confronted by an unimaginable menace: Nazi zombies.”

One Cut of the Dead (2017) (x)

“Things go badly for a hack director and film crew shooting a low budget zombie movie in an abandoned WWII Japanese facility, when they are attacked by real zombies.”

Planet Terror (2007) (x)

“After an experimental bio-weapon is released, turning thousands into zombie-like creatures, it's up to a rag-tag group of survivors to stop the infected and those behind its release.”

Pontypool (2008) (x) (x)

“A radio host interprets the possible outbreak of a deadly virus which infects the small Ontario town he is stationed in.”

Train to Busan (2016) (x)

“While a zombie virus breaks out in South Korea, passengers struggle to survive on the train from Seoul to Busan.”

Versus (2000) (x)

“There are 666 portals that connect this world to the other side. These are concealed from all human beings. Somewhere in Japan exists the 444th portal.... The forest of resurrection.”

Witches

The Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016) (x)

“A father and son, both coroners, are pulled into a complex mystery while attempting to identify the body of a young woman, who was apparently harboring dark secrets.”

The Blair Witch Project (1999) (x)

“Three film students vanish after traveling into a Maryland forest to film a documentary on the local Blair Witch legend, leaving only their footage behind.”

Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013) (x) (x)

“Hansel & Gretel are bounty hunters who track and kill witches all over the world. As the fabled Blood Moon approaches, the siblings encounter a new form of evil that might hold a secret to their past.”

The VVitch: A New-England Folktale (2015 (x)

“A family in 1630s New England is torn apart by the forces of witchcraft, black magic, and possession.”

Ghosts

The Amityville Horror (2005) (x)

“Newlyweds are terrorized by demonic forces after moving into a large house that was the site of a grisly mass murder a year before.”

Beetlejuice (1988) (x)

“The spirits of a deceased couple are harassed by an unbearable family that has moved into their home, and hire a malicious spirit to drive them out.”

Dark Water (2002) (x) (x)

“A mother and her 6 year old daughter move into a creepy apartment whose every surface is permeated by water.”

Ghost Ship (2002) (x)

“A salvage crew discovers a long-lost 1962 passenger ship floating lifeless in a remote region of the Bering Sea, and soon notices that its long-dead inhabitants may still be on board.”

The Others (2001) (x)

“A woman who lives in her darkened old family house with her two photosensitive children becomes convinced that the home is haunted.”

Dolls

Annabelle: Creation (2017) (x)

“Twelve years after the tragic death of their little girl, a doll-maker and his wife welcome a nun and several girls from a shuttered orphanage into their home, where they become the target of the doll-maker's possessed creation, Annabelle.”

Bride of Chucky (1998) (x)

“Chucky, the doll possessed by a serial killer, discovers the perfect mate to kill and revive into the body of another doll.”

Child’s Play (1988) (x)

“A single mother gives her son a much sought-after doll for his birthday, only to discover that it is possessed by the soul of a serial killer.”

Cult of Chucky (2017) (x)

“Chucky returns to terrorize his human victim, Nica. Meanwhile, the killer doll has some scores to settle with his old enemies, with the help of his former wife.”

Hell/demons

As Above, So Below (2014) (x)

“When a team of explorers ventures into the catacombs that lie beneath the streets of Paris, they uncover the dark secret that lies within this city of the dead.“

The Conjuring (2013) (x)

“Paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren work to help a family terrorized by a dark presence in their farmhouse.”

The Exorcist (1973) (x)

“When a teenage girl is possessed by a mysterious entity, her mother seeks the help of two priests to save her daughter.”

Hellraiser (1987) (x) (x)

“An unfaithful wife encounters the zombie of her dead lover; the demonic cenobites are pursuing him after he escaped their sadomasochistic underworld.”

Rosemary’s Baby (1968) (x)

“A young couple moves in to an apartment only to be surrounded by peculiar neighbors and occurrences. When the wife becomes mysteriously pregnant, paranoia over the safety of her unborn child begins to control her life.”

Inanimate Objects

Christine (1983) (x)

“A nerdish boy buys a strange car with an evil mind of its own and his nature starts to change to reflect it.”

Rubber (2010) (x)

“A homicidal car tire, discovering it has destructive psionic power, sets its sights on a desert town once a mysterious woman becomes its obsession.”

The Mangler (1995) (x)

“A laundry-folding machine has been possessed by a demon, causing it to develop homicidal tendencies.”

#horror movies #horror movie recs #movie recs #halloween #horror #horror recs #movies

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mortyandcarlsbespokesalvage · 4 years

Text

Day 1 Sequence 0

So it is written,

It came to pass that the world wrought by men was ended. Planes of order and reason fell away to be formed anew, and those small in spirit were claimed by the Maelstrom.

Here is spoken the coming of the Arpage. Raw and primordial, its vastness eclipses mediocrity and neutrality. Only vibrancy and vitality endure within its swirling torrents.

The world was rent asunder. Like with like, polarities balanced. Dimensional lines blurred and physical law undone. Reality made fluid.

This Storm shapes our world.

Blessed are we who stand, here on the other side of time.

Our world washed clean, free from the sins of our fathers.

We are alive, we who stand.

Children of the Storm, stand for tomorrow.

-Prelude to historical account of the founding of the city of Artisan.

To the reader,

By virtue of your presence in this archive, it may be assumed that you are mildly to moderately to severely displaced from the time and/or place to which you are accustomed. To contextualize, it will be to your benefit to know that the following account begins here in the island city of Artisan, located upon the Emerald Basin, in the year 324 of the New Common Era. As it happens, it begins on a Tuesday.

…

The storm that bore down on the city in the early morning hours was a grand one. Swirling from the south, a ruinstorm great enough to make even the proud denizens of Southport close their shutters.Strong enough that the wary watchers of the great barrier wall set to seal off the innermost city, that the winds and rains might not tear the pretty faces from her towering edifices. Midnight patrols of city Sweepers huddled against the winds and rains as they walked the empty streets, securing as much as could be tied down to keep from becoming destructive flack from the force of the gales. The Artisan Streets were as empty, and the city as quiet, as ever it could manage.

Artisan is never silent however, even on the precipice of a storm to end the world. For if everything stopped every time the world ended, how would anything get done? And so it is that our story takes us below the quieted streets above, under the murmuring, lamp-lit undercity markets, and below the darkened catacombs where the city’s ancient gears lie still.

The city of Artisan was founded over three centuries ago, in the wake of the Great Cataclysm. The Founders were swept away from their old lives by the torrents of the great Maelstrom, and deposited on the shores of a vast junkyard island, with only an endless ocean horizon as far as their eyes could see. Artisan was discovered, not built. At least not by the Founders. Oh, of course it had been built by someone. But if anyone had some notion of who that someone was, then they had successfully held their tongue for a dozen odd generations hence.

The name Artisan itself was uncovered and not coined. City blocks beneath the vast trash heaps, each with bronze plaques set into the cracked concrete, declaring them to be Artisan 109-a, 303-s, or any of thousands of combinations. Ancient labels declaring the island to be Artisan, in regular sections of concentric rings, radiating out from the great citadel at the center. The city of Artisan is built upon ten thousand-thousand mysteries, and it did not take long for the Founders to rightly conclude that someone needed to make it their business to set to work solving them.

The Founders of Artisan inherited an uninhabited trash heap upon the waves. Then they recycled that heap into a metropolis. They pushed out the surface scrap to three huge Yards, and over the centuries continued to use their bounty of ancient refuse as a source of building materials and lost artifacts. Below the surface, each level less and less explored, wholly unknown save the fact that they were all filled with garbage and scrap from untold years of the place being used as a dumping ground by parties unknown. Over the centuries, different explorers and curious trashmen were commissioned by the municipal authority to work together to try to figure it all out. To map the vast underground space, and to uncover more and more of a seemingly inexhaustible supply of resources.These curious souls were formed together into the Non-integrated Offices of Interior Rediscovery (N.O.I.R.), an entity whose sole business is to sift through the refuse of untold ages, and try to make sense of …

… well, for all intents and purposes everything, about the world’s last city.

…

Dr Archibald Morphesus (never Archie) is but one of the latest in a long history of esteemed archaeologists of N.O.I.R. Curious to a fault, focused to the point of obsession. Morphesus has been captivated by his city since he was a boy and first noticed the tendency of the utility lines in his family’s apartment to quietly rearrange themselves when nobody was looking. To him the city is a living organism. A friend he has sought to know for the better part of a lifetime. In his 30 year career, the doctor has mapped more of the undercity, led more expeditions, uncovered more vaults of artifacts than any other archaeologist of N.O.I.R.

Dr Archibald Morphesus is respected by his students and colleagues, a quiet older man with a passion for his work, and a track record for being a determined explorer. Deep beneath the charted levels of the Undercity above, Morphesus stands before a massive vault door. The Vault, marked 213 in bold ancient script, is the latest in a lifetime of closed doors waiting to be opened. How many more doors remain, and how little time remains to open them? he wonders, always. There is so little time left, and there’s still so much to do.

“On my count: three, two, one and HEAVE.”

The Sweepers, hulking figures in their heavy armor, pull at the vault door. The Engineers stand ready with braces to hold it open and floodlights to illuminate the platform. This is all routine, an endeavor that’s been undertaken dozens of times, each time a deep shaft is located, since long before he became an archaeologist. Still, he watches with rapt attention.

Beyond the vault door will be a platform overlooking the shaft, a vast, bottomless canyon sprawling into the dark as far as can be seen. That is what’s been behind every door so far. But there will also be the rails. The beams above the platform, stretch out into the dark, over the abyss. Sturdy, solid ,evenly spaced, but for purposes unknown.

Morphesus has spent years theorizing, and he knows what he hopes to find. The door opens with a clang and the screech and groan of steel on steel. The Sweepers at the door pull it open wider, while the engineers rush to prop it, and behind them another row of Sweepers stand ready with their great glaive axes, braced for whatever horrors might be waiting on the platform. It is empty. The lights shine through the breach, bathing the platform in incandescent orange and shining through the dust motes into the darkness.

He sees it.

After thirty years he sees it at the end of the platform, hanging from the rails as he always imagined it would. A bulky metal train car, suspended over the bottomless chasm.

For Morphesus, the world fades away. His research team spills out onto the platform, setting up floodlights and tables, beginning the work of sifting through the refuse and searching for anything and everything that could tell them about what came before. All he sees is the tram.

It’s something out of a dream. Something he’s looked for, theorized about, for years. And here it is before him. Proof of a rail system running through the space between the titanic Pylons that support the city above, and perhaps the first concrete clue in centuries to the mystery of the city’s unknown architects. The doors to the tram are forced open, an easier task by far than the vault. A thin layer of dust covers its interior. Motes drift across the lamplight.

“After you, professor.” Zel Pathos, his research assistant, aims the light into the open carriage and gestures him forward. Zel has been with the professor long enough to guess what this find means to him. Morphesus steps forward with his heart in his throat.

And there, the first thing he sees is a map. There is a map on the wall of concentric circles woven together. There are numbers marked on it, spaced regularly along the circles. 208, 209, 210, 211, 212...

213.

There is so much. So much to look at, to examine, to find. He cannot move quickly enough. And yet. He takes a moment for himself. This is it. All his theories. His life’s work. The answers are here. Zel and the other researchers pour in gently, mindful of the professor. But they’re eager too. The sooner they get to work, the sooner they have answers.

There is too much here. The tram alone would validate the professor’s theory about the nature of the rails. The MAP by itself would be historic. No map of the original city has ever been found in the centuries since the discovery of Artisan by the city founders. Morphesus’ heart pounds in his chest. He feels about to burst. History is about to be re-written here.

Around him, the other researchers murmur to each other as they begin the excavation. A sudden rise in volume catches his attention. “There’s even a log book here! Hah! Listen to this:

‘Entry 509

Junction 212 is cleared. Proceeding to 213. Personal aside, this thing is too damn big. If 213 checks out, the Artisan will be clear for testing. Not that it shouldn’t check out. It was fine two weeks ago. And two weeks before that. It was probably fine when the last guy was looking at it. Are we ever going to test this thing? Are we going to get paid this month? Is anyone even reading these reports? What is the Gatekeeper even doing? And another thing-’ Professor? Oh gods, Professor!”

“Medic!” someone calls.

Dr. Morphesus is seizing on the floor, his limbs jerking and shaking like a child’s wind up toy knocked on its’ side.

“Shit, get him off the train!” a Sweeper yells.

“Somebody time it!”

There is panic amongst the researchers - Dr. Morphesus had always had a frail constitution, but he’d never been sick before. Any sense of routine or order is lost as the Sweepers rush to secure him and get him off the tram. There’s no room to work in there.

“How long was that?”

“Is he breathing?”

“He’s struggling. It sounds like there’s something blocking his airways.”

“Get the intubation ready.”

“His pulse is thready.”

“Ready the potions and paddles, we may have to shock him.”

The words rush over each other and all other work comes to a stop. The news of Morphesus’ collapse spreads like fire among the archaeologists and a grim silence falls on them as they wait to see what happens next. And then...

“Holy hells, he’s got Verdigris.”

The quiet announcement falls like a bomb. Shock waves ripple through the assemblage, followed by tight fisted panic. There’s a gap in the circle of Sweepers tending to Morphesus, enough for some to see his chest. His open shirt reveals a wide rash of metallic scales, an undeniable indicator of Verdigris Syndrome.

“Sweet Dale, it looks like his entire respiratory system has been compromised.”

“How long has this gone untreated?”

“Somebody contact the Spire, we need to know everyone he’s been in contact with and set up a quarantine immediately!”

Morphesus hears the clamor around him through a haze. But he understands. His life has ended. His illness discovered. There will be no more doors to open. The sickness started small with Morphesus. Just a tiny rash that scaled and grew over the years with his doubt about being able to prove his theories. His body became slower, heavier. His breathing harder by degrees. It was easy to hide. Nobody noticed because he had always been sickly and colleagues just assumed that he was getting old. He never went to the doctor anyway. He kept to himself. He never had much of any kind of social life outside of work. He always politely, nervously declined any invitation. He was respected, looked up to, possibly even beloved by his team of grads and undergrads. Just a quiet older man with a passion for his work, and a track record for being a determined explorer in spite of being a socially inept weakling.

But not now. His work cannot end now, not when proof of his theories is in sight. Not when he lies mere feet away from the greatest discovery in a century. He feels his despair turning to resentment. He has lived with his sickness for years, never losing himself, never succumbing. Who among his colleagues had ever been infected? Whose business was it how he chose to spend his last years? Who said that the sickness, already a death sentence, had to mean the death of his dreams as well? His anger rises now. Fire burns in his eyes as he struggles against the Sweepers holding him down.

“Four Kings! How is he this strong?”

“It’s gotta be the sickness.”

“Yard 3 Precinct. Come in Yard 3, this is Squad 11, Muskrat. We are requesting immediate medivac and quarantine at Vault 213. I repeat this is Muskrat-”

“Hold him!”

Four Sweepers struggle to suppress the doctor’s frail frame.

Morphesus tries to speak, to tell them, to defend himself and his work. His students, they’ll understand. They must understand! But all that comes when he opens his mouth is the awful, distorted sound of screeching metal. All is lost. He screams. The sound is too big. It does not fit his body. It echoes endlessly into the dark.

And then the quiet. Stunned researchers and Sweepers stare without speaking. Morphesus lays on the platform, all the fight gone out of him. He just lays there and sobs. No one has to hold him down anymore.

They don’t notice it at first. Shock has numbed their senses, and the sound is still so faint. A distant clanking coming from the tunnel. Rhythmic, like footsteps shuffling. The Sweepers hear it first. They quickly move into position, ready with their axes and dragon fire. One of them breaks the silence, quietly repeating into the radio the need for a medical retrieval team.

The clanking of metal footsteps multiplies. One set. Two. More. But how many more? The tunnels and shaft are cavernous spaces, and the ringing steps echo and grow in the dark. It’s impossible to guess their number. Rearguard sweepers redirect the floodlights into the tunnel. There, a dull reflection coming closer. Another. Another.

All they can do is ready themselves for the fight and hope reinforcements arrive in time.

Through it all, the professor weeps.

Next chapter>

#arpage #children of the storm #artisan

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hipandcriticalblog · 5 years

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Hip & Critical EP Tour Eli Myles - I Deserve To Ball

Hip & Critical EP Tour

Eli Myles - I Deserve To Ball

Written By - Xavier Jones

Eli Myles already has his foot in the music industry's door. He's published beats for some of our favorite artist, and handfuls of locals looking for the right sound. His Soundcloud slaps with tunes cultivated from his own lab, and a few tracks from himself. In December 2018 he was featured on DJ Bleek’s Detroit Cuts II: Game Theory. Detroit legend Dusty McFly dropped his third installment of Buffies & Benihana's. Every track on the album is produced by Eli.

With a laundry list of work that stretches eons; Eli left fans waiting for him to drop a project of his own. They needed something with his name on it to love and cherish.

July 6th of 2018 Eli gave fans what they wanted. “I Deserve to Ball”. A project written, produced, and mixed by Eli himself.

The EP starts with a track of it's own namesakes. The in house sound rushes out of the speakers; secure you to your seat and proceed to beat the fuck out of you. Eli gives us a spoonful of self affirmations.

“I deserve to ball!”

“I deserve to ball yeah!”

“Put in work alone did it on my own.”

I Deserve To Ball should have came with a complimentary neck brace. Or at least a warning label to get one.

When “Know Wassup” comes on Eli enforces his EP’s thesis statement. He makes a prophecy of where his career is going. Right before he tells us another cardinal life principle, and something these niggas should already know.

“Hope you know I never gave a fuck about acceptance! Niggas too extra!”

The production on track number two is boastful in it’s own right. It’s slick, futuristic, and gives us a peek at the producers potential. But Eli still flexes his muscles hard with his lyrics. The rapper grandstands his lifestyle and relationships with the plug.

“Cuz you ain’t connected yous a detective I can detect it!”

IDTB distributes twenty seven minutes of very high quality music. Every song holds the gleam and properties of a different precious gemstone, but track three is something special.

An artifact that couldn't be found in our solar system.

For “Throw It Back” I’m convinced Eli traveled to another dimension. Explored the darkest and funkiest catacombs for a clan of evil music producing monsters. The monster clan couldn’t help so they conjured up a squad of demons to lend a hand and ride with DJ Rob Marley to the studio.

As the kids say nowadays. “No Cap”. This is one of the hardest songs I’ve heard in my life!

Production - Hard!

Lyrics - Hard!

One of the ways I test the women who come in and out of my life (and my car) is to play Throw It Back. Upon successful vibing to track three, plethoras of my respect is earned.

100% of the women who come in and out of my life (and my car) passed the Throw It Back Test. (Not that throw it back test you nasty motherfucker!)

Eli put some juju on the beat that strokes the clit, sucks the nipples and rubs on the ass all in one flawless striking motion Within the first fifteen seconds always I hear.

“I like this song!”

Eli the producer officially changes the vibe for “New to the City” a track solely made to appreciate the efforts and grind of a hard working woman. The beat runs at an obviously slower pace from the first half of the tape. Eli starts the ballad by informing his listeners of another cardinal truth.

“D girls love a balling ass nigga!”

The production serenades us as Eli the rapper spits some empowering, non judgemental lyrics to the ladies. Telling them everything they need to hear before a girls night out on the town.

“Pull up and work! Niggas on you before your foot hit the curb! Pay em no mind cuz you know what you're worth!”

“Everyone's Lit” keeps up the pace. Producing a slow, sleepy, almost drunk tune. Track five is one of those songs you play after a cruel break up.

Close your eyes when you’re completely fucked up and you will feel every word.

“I know what you did! I know where you've been! I can’t even trip! You just wanna live!”

Eli even advocates for safety and responsible drinking in this time of heartbreak.

“Maybe I should Lyft, cuz everyone is lit!”

The next track reflects how life goes after your feelings are dented and damaged by the grind.

“On & On” is a solid track where Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde come together for a wavy tale of redemption, realizing your full potential and the art of bossing up. On & On is the official risk takers anthem.

“Cuz life goes on and on and on and on! A different day a different song!”

“Stucc In The The Grind Freestyle” closes the curtain on Eli’s first EP. Stucc In The Grind is the piece where Eli exposes the majority of his feelings. The wordsmith reveals the source of the wisdom he passed down to us, and the cause of the stone around his heart.

“Mama gave me game she ain’t raise a fraud! Tough times taught me one thing nigga, ball! I then seen the fakest bitches break a nigga heart, power of that flower when she take them skinnies off!”

On Stucc In The Grind Eli took the time to fortify his mind, grind and empire. He shucks off the outside influences to remind himself what’s really important and how to get there.

“Keep yo mental on that chicken keep them digits flowing! Keep them feelings to yourself or put em in a song! By the time you finished writing you look up she gone!”

The freestyle and EP ends with a mystery high roller giving Eli a few words of encouragement. Eli gratefully accepts the advice and moves onward with his journey.

Eli is most definitely shaking up the scene with his first project. The seven songs he provided are drops in a bucket compared to his catalog. Scary assassin people may show up at my door if I keep talking about it. We might have to wait for another president to see a full album.

In real life the fanatics only got a tease. Music connaisseurs all over the country are crawling across the internet to get at different pieces of Detroit’s secret weapon. Ill Wave is in high demand.

I Deserve To Ball is available on all streaming platforms. Contact Eli for Ill Wave merchandise.

#Hip&Critical #elimyles #rap #litearture #detroit #la #atlanta #journalism #booksinthehood #eptour #cleveland #flordia #alabama #music #beats #Idesearvetoball

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amaryllisblackthorn · 5 years

Text

to make up for the looong time its been taking me to get done with my curse au fic i’m uploading snippets of an unfinished abandoned fic in the same verse. it’s not canon, so i guess its like an au of an au heh. it’s the same universe as the body remembers what the memory forgot, but like i said, it’s not canon so the second installment will completely disregard these parts.

Moonlight shone dimly through veils of dust that covered the faces of virgin windows. The once paragonal coat of youth chipped away from the abrasive wear of time. The emptiness was suffocating if one did not tread carefully, and the silence would have been deafening if not for the rhythm of footsteps accompanying a duo.

“Christ -- Georgie!” Duncan said as soon as he realized the identity of one of the girl’s facing him. He darted from his place on the stairs leaving the woman, Jolie, where she stood unmoving.

“Yes, it’s nice to see you too, Duncan,” Sara said, using sarcasm to aid in her recovery of the alarming incident. Her hand was holding Georgie’s, but whether it was for her comfort or her own was hard to tell. Maybe it was both. “Your concern is touching.”

In the midst of his anger and worry, the boy found the time to flash her a grin. “Always a pleasure, Sara.” His appearance quickly turned serious again as he looked to Georgie and then turned to face Jolie, his brows furrowing. “Can you explain exactly what you were doing here?”

His voice had a terribly controlled sound to it, a dangerous calm. It was the kind of tone that brought kings to their knees and made the bones in Georgie’s body shake. Somehow, however, it didn’t seem to have much of an effect on Jolie. She stood, stoic. “They’re intruders.”

“Well, this was fun,” Georgie started to say, already taking some steps back. Her hands opened and unopened several times. Everything seemed so fake for some reason, so unreal. “But I think I’m going to go.”

“No -- wait!” Duncan said, extending his hand as though to stop her. He had moved slightly closer to her in an attempt to gain her attention. His green eyes implored with hers, looked at her with a sense of understanding and empathy. It was to ensure the advantage that he remained eye level with her, saying, “Stay. Just for a bit -- if you’re still uncomfortable then you can go. Just -- don’t go. Not yet.”

There was still nothing in Georgie that wanted her to stay. Warnings of go, go! still beat in her heart, her thumb rubbing the hem of her skirt again and again. Even though the danger had passed, her body didn’t seem to be aware. It was a sensation that was too familiar, and she didn’t like it. “I -- I don’t know, Duncan. I don’t really like to keep company with people who try to kill me.”

The hesitance did not completely depart from Georgie, but his words did have an effect on her. It calmed the rattling of her bones, even if just a little bit. He was also so insistent, wanting terribly for her to stay. She decided she could give him a few minutes of her time without it hurting anyone. “Okay,” she breathed, and then, a bit clearer, “Okay, fine. I’ll stay for a bit. As long as there are no more attempts on my life.”

A smile appeared on the boy’s face, breaking through his attempt to suppress it. “There won’t be. I promise.”

Jolie had a scowl ingrained on her face, and although it may have always been at that intensity, Georgie couldn’t help but feel it was directed at them (her specifically). The again, maybe Georgie was just worrying too much, thinking too much of herself. Nevertheless, it was a less than welcoming expression, and it made the hairs on Georgie’s skin stand up just a little. It’s not that Georgie genuinely believed that the older woman would actually hurt her, but she had a suspicion that’s exactly what she wanted to do.

“Hey,” a voice said, breaking through her thoughts. Duncan had approached her, having left Jolie’s side. His lips formed a half smile, and she had to admit he looked kind of cute when his smile wasn’t a smirk. Objectively speaking. “Everything okay? You look kind of disquieted.”

Her lips tightened as she gave him a close smile. “No, yeah, I’m fine,” Georgie said, putting a loose strand of hair behind her ear. For someone who regularly wore ponytails, she would have thought she’d be able to do them better. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if she really liked ponytail. They made her feel kind of … mature? Not that that was a problem, exactly, but when was the last time she wore her hair down, besides from sleeping and showering? Strange were the things she’d been beginning to notice after years of them never crossing her mind. That was life, she guessed.

“See -- there!” Duncan said, once again interrupting her musings. There was something almost playful about his features as he gained her attention again. “You did it again. You sure everything’s okay?”

“Positive,” Georgie assured him, then added, “but, I mean, I guess this just isn’t my cup of tea? It’s nothing personal, it’s just I was kind of expecting to, you know, explore an abandoned building or something. I didn’t expect like a haunted house kind of a deal or like Paris catacombs under the building or anything, but I guess I was looking forward to the thrill of walking through an isolated building? It’s silly, I know. It’s just that this is kind of … boring.”

She didn’t want to be too blunt and end up offending him, but he seemed to take it very well. His lips spread wider, and he seemed somewhat amused. “You haven’t even been here for ten minutes,” Duncan said (he wasn’t exactly sure of how much time had actually passed but it certainly seemed like not much), “and you’ve already decided that you know everything there is to know about this building! I’ll let you know, bird, there’s a lot to still explore in this old building.”

Georgie scrunched her nose and exaggerated an angry pout at the use of that nickname. It was a stupid one (unlike Georgie which was a pleasant sounding derivative of Georgia, her name), but she didn’t really have that much of an objection to it. It was just really fun when she pretended that she did. In fact, she kind of liked that he did it, because in an odd way it made her feel better about that whole kidnapped-by-a-sicko incident. Like it had less power over her because they were able to refer to it without avoidance or caution. She didn’t know how to explain it, but it was kind of nice.

The eyes of the boy in front of her were no longer on her but gazed somewhere past her. “I don’t know, she seems to be all right,” he said, casually.

Georgie spun her head around to see what he was talking about. Sara was talking to three boys who had names that evaded Georgie but whom seemed to be engaged in the conversation. Her friend’s hands moved animatedly as she spoke, her eyes housing a spark as she did so.

“After a lot of trial and error, experience, and extensive research,” she was saying, “I’ve found out that the best materials are balsa wood, thick clear pine, steel wool, unbleached muslin, dowels, carpet thread, and sheet brass. I’ve heard some things about trunk fiber, and honestly I’m dying to use it.”

“What is she talking about?” Georgie said half-absently to herself, staring at Sara in bewilderment. Man, did her friend have some peculiar hobbies.

“So?” Duncan asked, his voice full of anticipation. He tried to suppress it, but it was there. In an odd way, he resembled a puppy, with a tilted head and wide expecting eyes. She wouldn’t be surprised if his ears had perked up. It was actually a pretty amusing imagery.

“I -- I don’t know, Duncan,” Georgie told him, putting her hands together, restless. “I just don’t … feel comfortable, you know? I should probably just -- ”

“ -- go home?” Duncan finished for her, his eyebrow raised. His features had become harsher, judgmental even. Maybe even hurt.

“Duncan -- ”

“And what waits for you there, Georgie, hm? A practical life of routine and predictability, where you grow up silently without any protest? You would rather go back fading into the abyss? You would rather stay where you know is safe and protected, not just from dangers and threats but from living and excitement? Are you really that afraid of the dark that you would rather keep your window shut than go out and venture through and discover what lies there? So afraid that you’d rather close your eyes and miss all of the marvels and wonders that pass you by, that you’d see if you only looked? Is that really what you want to go back to, Georgie? Is it?”

“How dare you,” said Georgie, clenching her fists. Her brow was furrowed as her cheeks raised. She tried to keep her voice from raising while still expressing all of the fury that she felt. “How dare you. How dare you criticize me for wanting safety -- after everything that I’ve been through? Where do you get off judging me for being afraid after I’ve been abducted by some murderous psycho who had a room covered in the blood of his victims? I’ve earned the right to be afraid, and you can go screw yourself for saying otherwise.”

“Why can’t you just believe that I won’t let anyone hurt you?” he asked furiously, as though he was the one being wronged.

“Because I can’t trust you not to do it yourself!” she retorted right back, refusing to shrink down. “I can’t trust you, not when you may have burned down a house and killed someone! I thought I could have ignored it, I thought that I could be okay with it, but I realize now that I’m not. I’m not, because if you could have done that, then who knows what else you could be capable of? I can’t trust you to be able to control yourself, and that’s terrifying. The boys never do anything to upset you, but is that out of loyalty or fear? At the end of the day, Duncan Faber, I still don’t know you. I can say what instruments you play and what language you take, but I can’t say that I trust you, because I can’t. Not really.”

His glare was thrown like daggers, but Georgie stood unfazed, her nerves impenetrable armor. Heat seemed to be seething from him, his breaths rough and ragged. Oh, if looks could kill. Well, he wasn’t the only one who knew how to throw daggers. She had an advantage over him, too; he constantly overestimated himself and underestimated others. Georgia McCarthy was not one to be underestimated lightly.

Before he was able to find his voice, to form words out of his turbulent emotion, Georgie spun around and started to make her way across the corridor. “Don’t follow me,” she warned, not even looking back. She wasn’t going to stay in the company of someone who didn’t respect her, who invalidated how she felt. No, Georgie held too much self-respect for herself, too much dignity. There was no way she was going to let a smug pompous jerk spit all over here as she just took it. No, sir. Not Georgie.

There was something nagging in the back of her mind — like, Yeah, good luck with this one. Did you honestly think you would be able to find something like this? How much longer are you going to keep romanticizing things that aren’t meant to be romanticized? Don’t you remember how things worked out last time?

(For a moment, a quick fleeting moment, she scratched sentience and was so very close to the cracks of remembrance.)

The tracks guiding the train of thought disassembled as quickly as they were put down, and Georgie occupied herself with this latest development. She honestly didn’t expect for it to work, especially not this soon. One of the negatives of making it up as she went was not knowing what to do next; how was she supposed to enter?

A once passive nature had transformed into a creation much different, much more comfortable. Stubbornness was an old jacket she found without trying that had been custom made for her. It suited her perfectly, and she accepted it so intrinsically that it was hard to remember that she hadn’t always worn it. The knitted brow, the intense frown, the stonewall resolve — they all appeared bringing with them a sense of reversion.

#darling pan #ab writes #cw: blood #cw: kidnapping #cw: abduction #mentions of those past three things #cw: pstd #sort of #ouat #once upon a time #boy this has been sitting in my drafts for months man im the worst;#;ill finish the next installment....eventually...

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betweenandbeloved · 5 years

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The Old City

Today was our last day in Jerusalem and I have to say, it was bittersweet. I will not miss walking on the hard stones all day to the point that my feet want to fall off, but I will miss the amazing markets and the religious significance everywhere we went.

The morning started by walking from our hotel up to the Old City where we went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. This is the place home to what remains of Golgotha, where Jesus hung on the cross, as well as what remains of Jesus’ tomb. While the church today is inside the walls of the city, the place was outside the original city walls during Jesus’ time so this space was most certainly where the Crucifixion and Resurrection happened.

The hill was much larger in Jesus’ time but it was cut away in order to build the church to preserve the spot. There was a Greek Orthodox altar built on top of “the exact spot where Jesus was crucified,” and if you haven’t caught on to my skepticism yet, here we go again... You could stick your had through a very tiny hole and touch the rock where it happened, but we don’t really know exactly where on Golgotha Jesus’s cross was stuck. It was cool to be able to feel the rock, but it honestly made me sad to see how little was left of what was originally this giant mountain of rock.

Same with Jesus’ tomb. We stood in line for 20-30 minutes to get about 15 seconds worth of time inside the tomb. The mausoleum that was erected on top was recently renovated and restored, there’s a documentary somewhere I want to find about it, but during the renovation, scientists were able to date the original rock in the tomb to the first century which means it’s pretty likely this was where Jesus was laid to rest.

(Tomb of Jesus)

Now, I want to take a minute to think about what might have happened because we’ve learned a lot about the culture and tried to picture everything in Jesus’ time. So Jesus died, his body was washed and cleaned, and then laid to rest in a tomb carved from rock with a giant bolder pushed in front of it. Based on the climate around here, it was probably cold and very dark in there. So what the heck do you think happened when Jesus opened his eyes after being dead? Was he glowing? Did he roll away the stone? Did he just walk through the stone? Did he acknowledge the other graves that were surely near his? (We walked through one of the catacombs - Jesus was not buried in isolation).

Visiting these biblically significant sites just makes me wonder. Seeing the place brings it to life in my mind that you don’t get from the pages of the book. It makes me wonder what else happened in these places and these encounters that were not written down in the Gospels.

After spending some time in the church, we walked from the Armenian to the Jewish quarter to get to the City of David. At this point, I’m so familiar with the geography of the city that I pointed out the route to our tour guide and he let me lead (sorta). It was kind of funny, he was like “yeah, you’re right! You’re tour guide now.”

The City of David was originally a Jebusite city but David conquered it and made it his home and the eventual capital of Jerusalem (1 Chronicles 15). We were able to see the ruins of his palace as well as the water system that he used to conquer the city through. At the archaeological dig site, more than 50 clay seals were found with names of important people who worked for the King that are mentioned in the book of Isaiah (chapter 38?).

The tunnels and water system of the city date to the 18th century BCE and are pretty well preserved. We went deep into the tunnels to learn how David captured the city through the water system (2 Samuel 5). The kings following David used the same tunnel, up until Hezekiah who decided to build a new water shaft to keep the water inside the city and make them less exposed to invasion.

I had the opportunity to venture through the 1800 foot long tunnel that still flows with water today. The water was mostly up to my calves but at the deepest part did get just about up to my waist. It was a very narrow, and at some points very shallow, tunnel. I kept knocking into one side and felt like a pinball bouncing back and forth. It was a lot of fun and a really cool experience.

The tunnel lets out into the Pool of Siloam which was a public ritual bath in Jesus time. We know this because of John 9 when Jesus put mud on the blind man's eyes and told him to wash in the Pool of Siloam (vs. 7), restoring his sight. This was one of two miracles Jesus performed in a ritual bath in Jerusalem.

The second miracle happened at the Bethesda Pools where Jesus asked the disabled man “do you want to be made well,” before healing the man in the bath (John 5). Located near the pools is St. Anne’s Crusader Church which is known for it’s acoustics. We spent some time in devotion singing in the church and I have to say, it was pretty cool.

We ended our scheduled programming for the day by walking the Via Dolorosa, the Stations of the Cross or Way of the Cross. This may or may not have been the route or even a similar one. It didn’t become a “thing to do” until the 18th century but has since been a place of pilgrimage for Christians. We wandered through stations 1-8, having technically done 9-14 in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre earlier in the morning. Different people do different stations but what I got was:

1) Jesus was condemned by Pontious Pilate. 2) Jesus carries the cross. 3) The first time Jesus fell. 4) Jesus meeting with his mother. 5) Simon the pilgrim helping Jesus after the soldier asked him to. 6) Veronica using her veil to wipe Jesus’ face of sweat and blood. 7) Jesus fell for the second time. 8) Jesus speaks to the women saying “daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me” (Luke 23:28). 9) The third time Jesus fell. 10) Jesus stripped of his garments. 11) Crucifixion. 12) Jesus dies. 13) Jesus’ body is removed from the cross. 14) Jesus is laid in the tomb.

We did things in a funk order, but it was so crowded that I’m glad we were able to do what we could when we did. I honestly can’t imagine coming to this place in the summer with all the tourists, you probably wouldn’t be able to do half the things we got to just because of the lines and the crowds. So, take note, do a tour of the Holy Land in January!

When we got to station 8 located at the edge of the Christian and Muslim Quarters, we were set loose for free time in the city. I ventured around with my friend Emily and ended up meeting up with our other friend Rick to enjoy some time shopping and seeing what we could. Emily and I ended up at the Church of Peter Gallicantu which was a cute little thing hidden behind a hobbit door that you kind of had to crawl through. The first church was built in 457 and was destroyed (like most things in the city and country), but another was built by the Crusaders in 1102. But then, of course, that was also destroyed and wasn’t rebuilt until 1931. A golden rooster signifies the cock crowing in relation to Peter’s denial of Jesus.

It was a lot of fun wandering around the Old City and doing some shopping. We met the nicest man Esah who ran an olive wood shop with handmade items that come from 15 different families in the community. I got some beautiful items from him, but of course, they’re already packed. He was thoughtful and generous, we didn’t even have to bargain, he gave us a great deal because we were Christians and because I told him I was going to be a Lutheran pastor.

I enjoyed a break from learning and loved getting to just explore and wander around in a small group. There were so many beautiful things I could have bought, but I love what I got and I’m proud I didn’t go crazy with buying things I didn’t need.

Tomorrow we will leave for Jordan and I’m excited to head to a new country and learn about the biblical significance of Jordan. If you read my earlier blog from before the trip, tomorrow we go to Mount Nebo where God showed Moses the promised land - so I’m super excited about that. Until then, let’s hope the internet works to post this, maybe you’ll get some pictures and if not, I’ll try to get you some when I have better internet.

Thanks for following along and sharing your thoughts about my journey! Just three more days left in the Holy Land.

#ipj2019 #the holy land #live #grow #learn #explore #hope #lutheran #jerusalem #old city #bible

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chocoluckchipz · 6 years

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Clumsy Business

Who ordered MariChat? Short Friends to Lovers MariChat is at your service. Merry Christmas, @ryuusadesu !

Read it on A03

Adrien was pretty sure that this whole business wasn’t his fault at all and, as a matter of a fact, he had a really good reason to believe that Marinette’s clumsiness was the culprit to blame. However, he didn’t really care about the who, what and why, anymore. All that mattered was that he had finally found someone who would love him back just as much as he loved her.

It all started in September of their last school year together, which was about sixteen months ago. Mlle. Bustier had given her class a seemingly ordinary assignment – by the end of their first semester they had to find, learn about, experience, and write a report on a part of Paris they hadn’t known yet or at least something that wasn’t usually associated with the City of Love’s reputation. Adrien had considered many places but when he had spotted one of his classmates researching Parisian catacombs his mind was made up immediately. Firstly, the mysterious underground world sounded much cooler than anything he had considered. Secondly, he had an unfair advantage – the night vision of a cat. And lastly, when else would his Father allow him to go there if not now, under the pretense of a school project?

Said classmate happened to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng and they had agreed to go explore the underground tunnels on November 01 together. Marinette, thought, caught a nasty flu and spent that day buried under a mountain of blankets, missing their tour. As far as he knew, her next visit was planned for November 11th, which she politely declined Adrien’s company for, not wanting to bother him more than necessary. Which was why Chat Noir had been surprised to see her staring forlornly at a closed Catacomb tour door the next day, as he ran by, finishing his morning patrol.

“Why such a long face, Princess?” He landed in front of her with all of the grace of a feline. “Did the world end and I just haven’t noticed it yet?”

“Yours probably didn’t but mine is as good as done,” Marinette was barely holding back tears. “Almost three months of hard work and research- ruined- all down the drain- and all because I’m so scatterbrained and can’t remember dates correctly!”

“What happened?” he asked if only to avoid the suspicions of having already guessed what was going on. They hadn’t talked since school ended on Friday so Adrien had no way of knowing if she’d missed yesterday’s date too but it certainly looked like it.

“My school project on the catacombs,” Marinette sighed. “I mixed up the stupid dates and now all my work is useless because I can’t experience them for myself.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Chat smiled. “Just come back when they open next time.”

“Next time will happen next year, Chat,” Marinette grumbled. “The catacombs are open to the public only a few days a year and I need this project done by Christmas holidays.”

“Oh.” He had completely forgot about it. “And writing without going in isn’t an option...” Chat murmured the grim conclusion under his breath. Looked like somebody was in a bit of trouble.

“Yes. Unfortunately, visiting the site is one of the major requirements for this project,” Marinette sighed and got ready to leave. “Well, I guess I’d better not waste any more time and get started on a new one. See you around, Chat Noir.”

“Hey!” His mouth spoke before thinking (but, honestly, Marinette's clumsiness was at fault here in the first place for making her mix up the days. Otherwise, he would've never offered what he was about to offer to her or anyone else for that matter).

“If you want I can take you down there.”

Marinette frowned, looking in confusion at his unnaturally nervous grin. He obviously spoke before he really thought about it but it was too late to back away now. Chat Noir was a hero, after all, and helping citizens in need was his calling. Ladybug would certainly have helped Marinette. Why wouldn’t he?

“I went there once,” he continued. “And I can see in the dark so I can take you in if you want. We’ll walk around for you to get a feel and get out.”

“But the doors are closed, Chat.”

“You are forgetting that I’m really good at sneaking around, Princess.” He smirked. “I’m sure I can find a way in. In a structure like this the official entrance isn’t the only way in, you know.”

Marinette visibly hesitated but gave in pretty soon. He guessed that the prospect of saving the project instead of spending all of the next month doing a new one was just too good to pass on. Plus, Chat was also pretty sure the opportunity of spending some one-on-one time with the hero of Paris up close was just as alluring.

While exploring the catacombs underneath Paris the first time, Adrien would have never suspected that they would change his life forever. Yet his second visit started a change that would soon be hard to ignore.

They agreed to meet in a few days and until then Adrien spent his free time doing some additional research to find an entrance that they could sneak in relatively easily and undetected. Thursday evening, a night when Adrien didn't have any additional commitments, Chat Noir, armed with a few possible entry points, escorted Marinette below the ground. His third try worked like a charm.

Under Chat’s watchful eye, they moved slowly through the catacombs, and, with the help of Marinette’s flashlight, were able to enjoy the view. Soon, they covered quite some distance and, of course, Chat got bored and decided to make this visit not only educational but fun, to lighten up the mood a little, help Marinette relax. You know, what knights usually did for their Princesses… So he might have tried to scare her…

He could swear it sounded much better in his head than what happened in reality…

Marinette’s clumsiness surfaced again and she fell down, almost petrified by his jump scare. A twisted ankle was a result and as an apology, or more accurately, a necessity at that moment, Chat had to carry Marinette all the way back to her house, begging for her forgiveness every step of the way.

That night he dreamed of a tiny, delicate girl, holding onto him for comfort and protection, as they walked through the dark tunnels, yet at the same time showering him with sass and clever remarks only his Lady could rival. In a way, it felt really nice. Who would've known that Marinette could be so much fun? She didn't stutter or freeze with Chat as she did with Adrien and that made a world of difference. That helped him notice that there was something else to Marinette Dupain-Cheng that Adrien Agreste was not allowed to see.

The next day, Chat Noir went over to check on her. After all, it was his fault that she got hurt in the first place. That visit had marked another turning point. Marinette’s clumsiness, that time verbal, struck again and all because of his choice of berries! Did you know that Marinette was close friends with Ladybug? No? Well, Chat Noir hadn’t either. Not until he handed her a bowl of raspberries as a get-better gift and said they were his Lady’s favorite. Without a second thought, Marinette had corrected him.

“She prefers strawberries, Chat,” she had giggled. “So much for your claim to know everything about her.”

After that, it only took him a few coaxing questions to figure out the astonishing fact of their friendship. Apparently, balcony rendezvous with treats and warm drinks were a regular thing between Marinette and Ladybug. They also had a lot in common from what Marinette let slip and that gave Chat an idea. Plagg hadn’t been much help in uncovering his Lady’s identity and not like Adrien would violate her trust by going behind her back…

Still, he couldn't help but wonder how much more effective his wooing of Ladybug would be if he were to know more about her? Her likes? Her preferences? The things that made her tick and the ones she despised? More knowledge about his partner’s character could change everything! It could easily put him on the next level in the quest for Ladybug’s heart. And to obtain it Adrien needed to make use of his adorable classmate’s occasional slips of the tongue.

Decision made, Chat Noir started to visit Marinette at the end of November on a weekly basis. At first, it was at least once every six or seven days. Then he would run by more often until eventually it became whenever he could.

Marinette was not pleased. She tolerated him the first few times and even treated him to some sweets. However, as soon as it became obvious that Chat Noir would be a regular intruder, she got annoyed.

“A girl should have a space to call her own and not be afraid of a random cat busting in every now and then,” she would say and push him out the window. “What if I want to walk around naked? You can’t come by whenever you want!”

Despite that, Chat persisted because Adrien couldn’t just walk in and start inquiring about random Ladybug facts. Chat Noir could. Adrien Agreste would never be able to openly spend hours and hours a week in Marinette’s room without some questions he would rather not answer, but Chat Noir could. Chat Noir had all the excuses in the world and was free enough to act upon them. Adrien Agreste didn’t. He just became more careful and considerate, asking Marinette’s permission for a visit in advance and to keep pleading until he got one.

Marinette still wasn’t pleased in the slightest but his changed antics made her softer, allowing him more frequent visits. Eventually, she accepted the fact that the annoying cat would keep coming back no matter how many times she pushed him out the window. So, to compensate for the discomfort, Marinette, being Marinette, decided to be clever and put him to work. As a result, for the next while, Chat Noir cut, drew, glued, wrote, modeled, delivered, helped her study and did so many random chores he couldn’t possibly remember them all.

By the time the spring had started, the “personal slave” stage was over. Thankfully, it lasted only a few weeks at most and ended with Marinette and Chat being the best of the buds. That was when his effort had finally paid off and, as a friend, Marinette started to release little details of his partner’s preferences.

Ladybug liked pink. She liked to draw and design. She was graduating school this year. She loved sweets just as much as her kwami. Gabriel Agreste was her idol and she had a female best friend, which wasn’t Marinette. She dreamed of becoming a designer and knew absolutely zero Chinese.

Ladybug thought the world about Chat Noir but she had a crush on someone else. Sadly, an unrequited crush.

That info was a little upsetting but didn't stop Chat at all because the word "unrequired" was a very hope-inspiring one. It meant that if his Lady would one day decide to look somewhere else for love he would be right there by her side, knowing exactly how to please her and finally having a chance at winning her heart. And for that, he needed to come to Marinette's house more often and learn little by little as much useful information as he could. The company of a good friend and random treats were just a nice bonus. Marinette’s episodes of sporadic clumsiness and tripping where they would end up a sprawling mess on her floor were kind of nice as well. Chat liked the way Marinette blushed and stuttered when that happened but never thought much of it. After all, being so close to a superhero and a model in disguise must have been quite intimidating. One time he even accidentally landed a smooch on her cheek but since Marinette hadn't noticed, Chat decided to spare her the embarrassment. She was crimson enough already. Plus, he needed to come back for more info and for that he had to be in a good standing with her.

Spring flew by fast. Their friendship stepped into a new territory at the start of June when, for her birthday, Chat Noir took Marinette to one of his favorite places in the whole Paris – the top of the Eiffel Tower. Cliché, he knew that, but while he was almost used to the breathtaking views he was pretty sure that Marinette, who had no means of her own to get there, would be impressed and inspired by the beauty. The right inspiration could do wonders for such a talented person as Marinette, so this looked like the perfect present for ESMOD’s newest student. At least Chat really hoped so.

Thankfully, judging by the way Marinette’s eyes shone as she silently took in the view of the night city, it looked like Chat had succeeded. He couldn’t help but smile, seeing how mesmerized Marinette looked, how peaceful and happy, even tranquil she was, holding onto a beam for safety. Wind softly brushed her hair as she gazed into the distance, paying absolutely no attention to her companion. She was glowing, emanating a soft halo reflected from the lights all around them. It complimented her natural beauty incredibly and for some reason he couldn’t take his eyes off her. In that moment Marinette turned around and said something but it was lost on him. His mind was too busy connecting the ethereal, alluring loveliness of his best friend he barely noticed before with her other amazing qualities, including all of her little faults he had come to like so much. Her stubbornness, for example. Simply irresistible.

“Hey, Chat?” Marinette’s voice finally cut through the thick clouds of his thoughts. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, totally fine,” Chat assured, feeling much warmer than a moment before. Must be those unpredictable hot Parisian nights. “Why? What happened?”

“You keep smiling and ignoring my questions. Almost seemed like you weren’t here at all,” she smiled. “Listen, if you are in a hurry, we can go now. I think I got all the inspiration I needed. Plus—” Marinette’s voice obtained a hint of teasing as she started to walk towards him, “—I have something-”

The rest of the sentence was abruptly cut because the stupid clumsiness had nothing better to do than to make Marinette trip at one of the most dangerous places in Paris. Really, what was that? There was nothing to trip on!

“Marinette!” Chat cried and launched ahead, falling to his knees but catching the precious person in his arms just in time. He closed his eyes and let a relief escape his lips, pulling her closer. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he whispered into her hair, refusing to let go until all the confusion and fear would go away, until she would stop trembling.

“I’ll try my best,” Marinette quietly replied and cuddled closer. She looked a bit distraught by almost falling down and in need of some comfort. So he held her tighter and didn’t move. Not until about five minutes later when she sneezed.

"Bless you," he chuckled. Adorable, really. The air was hellishly hot, why would Marinette sneeze? She didn't look cold and he certainly hoped she wasnt getting sick. But just as a precaution Chat wrapped his arms tighter and pulled her flush against him to share some warmth.

“I wanted to say I have something for you at my house,” Marinette murmured into his chest a few moments later.

“Hmmm,” Chat grinned, leaning closer and sniffing. “Do I smell something sweet?” Marinette often spoiled him with her baked goods. Must be either macarons or cookies.

“Possibly,” the girl giggled and pulling back, poked his nose with her finger. “But the only way to find that out what exactly is to take me home.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” he purred and picked her up princess style. Just the way she deserved to be carried. He quickly brought her home and patiently waited while she brought out a box of his favorite macarons. Settled on her balcony, they spent some time chatting about nothing in particular and just as Chat was leaving Marinette leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for the present,” she whispered against his flushed skin and pulled away.

“I’m happy you liked it,” Chat replied, stilling instantly at the intimate contact.

"And for the rescue." She kissed his second cheek, rendering him speechless. What he had considered to be a hot evening earlier seemed like nothing but a light breeze comparing to the way it felt now. Seriously? What was wrong with the weather these days?

“No problem,” Chat squeaked and scattered away because something in his chest was also beating way too fast to be normal. He’d better get home and lay down. It would have been quite inconvenient to die on Marinette’s balcony for both his father and her.

After the summer followed September and Marinette began attending ESMOD. Adrien had his own school but visiting her weekly as Chat Noir had become somewhat of a tradition now. She was one of his best friends and coincidentally played an important role on both sides of his persona. As Adrien, he saw her a little less than usual due to the conflicting schedules but Chat Noir had free rein of when he could come and visit his Princess. He might have used that and tried to compensate for Adrien’s absence in her life. Just a tiny bit.

Little by little though, unbeknownst even to him, his intentions for those visits had changed. No longer he had tried to pry into his partner’s life through Marinette and, to be completely honest, he had even caught himself thinking that maybe if Ladybug didn't want him, he should look somewhere else. He could, for example, look at someone who was adorably cute, amazingly awesome and already had a crush on him.

Oh, did you know that Marinette had a huge and embarrassing crush on Adrien ever since they met? He hadn’t either. That is until he saw her screensaver sometime back in his “servitude” months. Of course, he had noticed all of the posters and photos of his civilian self before but they could easily be explained (a close friend and a handsome model wearing her idol’s designs, nothing unusual). The multitude of hearts all around his face on her screen was not.

Marinette didn’t even deny it. Chat blushed under his mask and said nothing but that knowledge found a permanent place in his heart and now suddenly it surfaced and forced him to compare the two.

Marinette loved him. Ladybug didn’t.

It hadn’t bothered him before. When Ladybug gushed about the boy she loved, he listened. When she said there was someone else who was recently catching her eye, he said nothing. Even when in the middle of the summer, Ladybug had mentioned her intentions to pursue the other boy, it was okay. She said she was spending more time with him and was discovering what an awesome guy he was. Chat hoped that, maybe, he was her third choice because clearly, he wasn’t spending much time with Ladybug these days. His evenings were devoted to Marinette, so it couldn’t be him. He didn’t mind being the third at all. He tried to convince himself that as long as he stayed loyally by her side, sooner or later she would notice him.

But then October came and The MisunderstandingTM happened. The knowledge of Marinette’s crush and this practically forced him to admit that maybe yes, being the third choice sucked and yes, Marinette was just as good if not better than Ladybug because for her Adrien was first and if he dared to dream her second choice was also him, just in the black leather and donning a pair of cat ears.

And all it took for him to admit that was an old trusty case of a damsel in distress. Well, at least he thought it was that.

By that time Chat had been visiting Marinette for over a year and it happened so that most often than not he always was at her place on Thursdays. It almost felt like an unspoken tradition between them. Exactly at seven he would come over and Marinette, for all her adorable clumsiness and forgetfulness, would be there. For the whole year he’d been visiting, she’d been late only three times and by no more than five minutes. So, when a few weeks into the new semester Chat waited for almost an hour with no Marinette, he got antsy and went out to scan the streets.

After all, who would know better than him just how clumsy she was? The city was enveloped in darkness already so she could’ve easily hurt herself somewhere! He had to find her and make sure she was okay. He couldn’t just leave and sleep peacefully, knowing that Marinette might be in trouble.

His first destination, of course, was her school. It wasn't that far away and soon he was already scanning the building. There were a lot of windows lit but only one of them had shouts and screams coming out of it. Someone was in a heated argument, a possibly violent one from the sound of it. What’s worse, Chat clearly recognized one of the voices and the second he did, blood boiled in his veins and he rushed to the rescue.

The dimmed lights made the room look smaller. Marinette was at the front arguing with some not very friendly-looking guy. There were a few more people standing in the middle of the room and not a single one of them did anything about the knife the guy was threatening his Princess with. A low growl rumbled through Chat’s throat as he smashed the window open and landed between the assaulter and Marinette.

“I dare you to take a step,” he seethed through his teeth and got ready for a fight. To his amusement, instead of attacking, the guy backed away and frowned in confusion. The rest of the people in the room collectively gasped yet pretty soon a few giggles were also heard. As for Marinette, her exasperated groan Chat could feel with his back. Not a moment later she grabbed his hand and pulled him out in the hallway.

“Chat.” She crossed her arms over her chest as soon as the door was closed. “What are you doing here?”

“What was that?” he frowned instead of answering. “He was attacking you and no one did anything!”

“Because it’s a play, Chat, and the knife is a fake.”

“A play?”

"Yes, a play," Marinette sighed and pitched a bridge of her nose. "Listen, Chat, I haven't told you about this because this isn’t exactly the highlight of my day. I’ll explain later. For now, just know that I didn't really had a choice.”

“How did you manage to hide it for so long though?”

“Because the practices were on Tuesdays and you never visit on Tuesdays,” she explained. “It was quite convenient, actually.”

“Oh yeah,” Chat murmured under his nose. Adrien had Gabriel photoshoots on Tuesdays. That’s why Chat was skipping out. “So what kind of a play is this?”

Marinette narrowed her eyes on him, searching for any signs of mocking but he looked sincerely curious. “I'm a victim who survives an attack,” she replied, “and later catches the serial killer, using her amazing fighter skills."

Chat raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Marinette resented. “I have you to know I’m the best fighter in this club.”

“You trip over nothing.”

“Only when mangy cats cross the road in front of me!”

“Really?” his lips were trembling, threatening to explode in laugh.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me!” Marinette threatened, poking his chest with her finger. “I didn’t have a choice! That’s all you need to know. Better explain what you are doing here?”

“I came looking for you since you were late,” he explained, lightly chuckling at her antics.

“Late for what?”

“What do you mean for what? We always meet on Thursdays so I came and you weren’t there so I thought-”

“You thought I was in trouble if I hadn't shown up one day? Even knowing that we had never agreed to meet every Thursday?”

“Yes?” Chat’s ears dropped flat as the ridiculousness of his conclusion started to dawn on him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in a short while, his gaze falling to the ground. “I shouldn't have assumed that Thursdays were my days. You probably have some new, more interesting things to do now. Like this drama-”

“Oh, Chat,” Marinette lips quivered in a soft smile. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his torso, a gesture that was so familiar yet so dear to him now. “I’m sorry,” she murmured into his chest. “I should’ve told you.”

Chat closed his eyes as he automatically laid his head atop Marinette’s and wrapped his hands around her. For some time now she really had been spoiling his affection-starved self with hugs and he treasured every single minute of it, often finding himself unwilling even to breathe in fear of spoiling the moment. Savor the touch, enjoy the closeness and soak up the affection. Hold back that pleasant rumble in your chest!

He barely succeeded.

“For what’s it worth you played really convincingly.”

"Well, it was really amazing of you to jump in and save me too. Adorable even."

“I am one of the heroes of Paris,” Chat boasted. “That’s kind of my job.”

He could feel Marinette’s smile against his chest right before she pulled back, stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek awfully close to the corners of his lips, sending his poor heart into a frenzy again. He did, however, saw the way her own cheeks blushed and noticed that this time she withdrew much slower than the last time. Not that he remembered that first peck by heart. Every single millisecond of it.

“You are my number one hero, Chat Noir,” she said quietly, looking more beautiful than ever. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled, frozen in place. “I- I ca- can wait- yeah, wa- wait for you and- well- walk yo- you home, if you want,” he added, his mind in a complete shutdown.

“That would be nice,” Marinette smiled, brushing away a stray hair behind her ear. “Give me another ten to fifteen minutes and I’m all yours.”

In a moment, she disappeared into the room and all that Chat Noir could do was to slowly slide down the wall and be shocked. Shocked because it hit him so suddenly and so unexpectedly. Shocked because something he thought would never happen just did. Or rather he realized it just now.

He was in love with her. He was in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He wanted to be by her side. He wanted to protect her, to marvel at her beauty as long as he could and enjoy every single touch she was willing to give him. He wanted to have fun together and be silly. He wanted to be with her.

And he was weirdly happy about it. A dopey smile stretched his lips as he covered the place she kissed with his palm. In a second he grinned harder because the nice part of this was that Marinette liked him back! He knew she did! He saw her screensaver! But… Could he dare to dream that she liked Chat Noir too? It certainly seemed so, judging by the way things between them were going. Just over a year ago he was an irritation and an inconvenience to her. She hugged and kissed him now and was always happy to see him. Could this really be…?

There was only one way to check this and that was to tell her how he felt. If only that was so easy.

For the next few months, Chat tried to, first, make sure he wasn’t imagining his feelings and, second, find a perfect moment, or at least gather the courage to say the words. As for his first point, there were no mistakes. He was hopelessly in love. Even he couldn’t deny it anymore. Chat still respected Ladybug and thought she was cute but Marinette was the one holding his heart right now. Yet similarly to his Ladybug attempts, he tried and failed to tell her about it a couple of times. Every single one of them ended up rather embarrassingly and at the end, Marinette hadn’t understood a thing. At nineteen, you’d think he was more than capable to do such a simple task. Apparently, not him and not to such an awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, mind-blowing girl as Marinette.

Today, however, as Chat was visiting her at the end of the Christmas Day, an opportunity came knocking on his door. The day was perfect. It wasn't too cold but it snowed those nice, fluffy snowflakes. They had spent the day with their families but once the night fell on the city, Chat Noir sneaked out of his room and soon was presenting his modest gift in a form of a diamond bracelet to Marinette. In return, she made him the most amazing Christmas ugly sweater. Chat could only imagine how disgusted his Father would be the next morning when he would parade it around the house.

Then the time came for signing of her cast because as it would happen, his dear, clumsy Marinette slipped a few days prior and broke her wrist. Nothing serious, but the cast was put on and signatures were signed. He could see his own, Alya’s, Nino’s, Tom and Sabine’s and a few of her other friends. There were flowers and hearts and someone even drew her a cookie. Chat Noir, however, had something else in mind because, finally, her clumsiness (can you see why he had grown to adore it now?) provided him with an opportunity to say the words he hadn't been able to tell anyone yet. After all, if he couldn’t say it, he could always write it.

“Go, on, kitty,” Marinette asked again. “Sign it.”

“Can you not look while I do it?” he asked.

“Sure,” Marinette was surprised but closed her eyes nevertheless. “Why?”

"I'll write you something special," Chat replied and was about to start when a loud crash and a distant evil laugh echoed through the room. Marinette's eyes flew open. For some reason, she glanced at her cast immediately, looking a little bit more concerned than usual when these things happened.

“Akuma?” she almost whispered.

“Afraid so,” Chat sighed. Another chance seemed to be gone. But then Marinette shifted her worried eyes at him and his mind was made up. He wasn’t sure what was different this time but his Princess shouldn’t be afraid of some random akuma. She should know that he loved her and he would always protect her no matter what. And that meant…

“Close your eyes,” he asked again. “I’ll write it quickly and will go deal with an akuma.”

“Okay,” Marinette nodded and complied. She sensed something scribbled on her cast and heard the sound of writing. She heard barely audible “I’ll come back to talk about it later" and felt a light kiss on her lips. She saw only the tail of an escaping cat-boy when she opened her eyes. Amongst all the signatures the new one made her smile. With eyes full of adoration, Marinette whispered her own confession to the one who was already at the battle field.

“I love you too, Chat.”

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#marichat #ML fic #Secret Santa server exchange #friends to lovers #one shot #short #story #Ryu #Merry Christmas

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