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sparklestormandsoda · 6 days ago

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Siren’s Stage – Chapter Six

Blurb: The stage is sacred. The fans, the fuel. The idols? Not human. HUNTRIX rules the idol world—famous, flawless, and secretly hunters of the supernatural. But something’s changing. The fallen sirens—Adagio!Reader, Aria, and Sonata—feel their lost power stir again through the Saja Boys’ music. They want back in. Caught between hunters and rising demons, the battle begins—where lyrics kill, and only one song makes it to the final chorus.

Full blurb here

Chapter 5

As the crowd thinned and night fell harder, the girls ducked down a side street to regroup.

But fate had other plans.

Because the second they turned the corner—

They nearly collided with the Huntrix.

Rumi stood at the front with a large box, Mira and Zoey flanking her like a well-rehearsed formation. Her posture was casual, but her eyes were sharp.

“Well, well,” Mira said. “Always where the magic happens.”

Sonata froze. “Oh! We were just, uh—”

“Observing,” Aria said flatly.

“Admiring,” Sonata corrected with an awkward grin.

Zoey gave them a once-over. “You three always seem to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Isn’t that the definition of talent?” Reader replied, keeping her expression unreadable.

Rumi didn’t say anything at first. She looked over the Dazzlings, then glanced toward the direction where the boys had vanished.

“You saw them too, didn’t you?” Reader asked.

Rumi nodded. “Hard not to.”

Her tone was neutral, but her eyes lingered. On Reader. Just a little too long.

The air stretched between them — not tense, but alert. Like both leaders were mentally circling each other, waiting to see who’d blink first.

After a moment, Rumi finally smiled. “Well. Good luck chasing shadows.”

And with that, she turned, her group following silently behind.

Aria exhaled hard. “They’re always popping up.”

Sonata hugged her arms. “Those boys were… weird, right? Like, weird-weird?”

Reader stayed quiet.

Her eyes flicked back down the alley where Jinu had disappeared.

She couldn’t explain what she’d felt — a pull, maybe. Not magic. Not hunger.

Just… a curiosity that made her feel too human.

And that terrified her most of all.

The next morning came fast — too fast. The city was already alive again, buzzing louder than it should’ve been. Rumors about “the mystery boy group” were spreading online like wildfire. People had already clipped the performance, uploaded blurry videos with captions like:

“WHO ARE THEY???” “no label no name just ICONIC.” “street kings for real.

And despite no confirmation, one name started surfacing again and again.

Saja Boys. Untamed, unexplained, unforgettable.

The Dazzlings were sprawled across the tiny apartment they were squatting in — a far cry from the luxury they once bathed in. Reader sat on the floor, back against the wall, flipping through comments and grainy fan-recorded videos of the performance.

“He didn’t even flinch,” Aria muttered, arms crossed. “The second you two locked eyes, he knew. That’s not normal.”

Reader looked up. “It doesn’t matter. We need to figure out what they are.”

“They didn’t even look tired after dancing that hard,” Sonata added, chewing the end of a pencil. “No sweat, no breath — like... robots or vampires or something.”

“Not vampires,” Reader said, voice low. “Something else.”

“And Huntrix?” Aria cut in. “They’ve definitely noticed us now. That run-in last night wasn’t just a coincidence.”

“No,” Reader agreed. “It’s time we step up.”

She stood, her expression sharpening.

“We have two threats now: Huntrix and these… Saja boys. We need to divide our attention. No more waiting for things to come to us.”

“But what are we doing exactly?” Sonata asked, eyes wide. “Like, do we go stalk them? Seduce them? Spy?”

“Yes,” Aria said flatly. “All of the above.”

Reader allowed a small smile. “We play smart. Keep our magic hidden. Blend in. If we’re gonna expose anyone, we need to look like we belong here first.”

Later That Day

The streets were even louder. Crowds had doubled around the area where Saja had performed, hoping they'd appear again. Phones out. Posters already up.

Reader, now dressed more like an idol trainee than a runaway siren, leaned against a pole with her cap low over her eyes.

“They’re not here,” Aria muttered from beside her. “Cowards.”

“They’re smart,” Reader replied. “If I had power like that, I’d lay low too.”

Suddenly, Sonata sprinted across the street, nearly tripping over a barricade.

“Guys! Guess who just passed me?”

“Please don’t say Huntrix,” Aria groaned.

Sonata shook her head, breathless. “No! That Jinu guy.”

Reader stiffened.

“He was alone. Hoodie up, sunglasses, but it was him — I swear on my last brain cell.”

Reader didn’t hesitate.

“Where.”

They spotted him again, slipping quietly into a convenience store down a side street.

Reader followed — cautious, slow. She didn’t plan on confronting him. She just wanted to watch. See what someone like him did when no one was looking.

But the moment she stepped through the door—

He looked right at her.

No surprise. No fear.

Just… acknowledgment.

As if he was waiting for her to show up.

“Looking for something?” he asked coolly, brushing a snack off the shelf into his basket.

Reader’s heart skipped. His voice wasn’t soft. It was calm. Controlled.

Like he knew how to talk his way out of any corner.

“Just browsing,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral.

“Didn’t strike me as the browsing type,” Jinu said, turning toward her now. “More like… predator.”

That made her pause.

“And you?” Reader asked. “What type are you?”

He tilted his head. “The kind who watches from rooftops.”

She blinked.

What the hell did that mean?

Before she could answer, the store’s door slammed open — and in stormed a blur of neon.

Rumi.

And the rest of Huntrix behind her.

“Reader,” Rumi said, tone firm. “We need to talk.” She says, grabbing her sleeve to pull Reader behind her and the other Huntrix members. Almost like a shield from Jinu.

Jinu stepped back, lifting both hands. “Don’t worry, I was just leaving.”

He brushed past Reader — and for a second, their shoulders touched.

It felt like static jumped through her arm.

Then he was gone.

Rumi turned and stepped forward, eyes narrowing.

“We need answers. Now.”

Reader turned slowly.

“Well then,” she said coolly, “ask better questions.”

Rumi’s arms crossed over her chest, her posture stiff, guarded. Behind her, the rest of Huntrix stood like sentinels. Their stage-ready makeup was off, but their intensity wasn’t. Even without the lights, they glowed.

Reader raised a brow, tilting her head slightly. “You followed me?”

“You followed him,” Rumi shot back.

The two stood inches apart now. Not close enough to raise alarms — just enough for the air between them to thicken.

“We were curious,” Reader admitted. “The performance last night? In the middle of the street? Kind of hard to ignore.”

“You mean the performance that conveniently happened right after you left?” Mira says, and stepped forward. Her voice dripped with challenge. “You weren’t at the bootcamp. You didn’t say goodbye. Then you appear downtown. Alone.”

Reader shrugged. “Sorry. Didn’t realize we were being tracked.”

“Not tracked,” Rumi said carefully, her voice lower now. “But we don’t believe in coincidences.”

Sonata and Aria finally caught up, both breathing hard — too hard.

“Sorry! Bathroom line was like, forever!” Sonata smiled brightly, cheeks flushed. “Are we getting snacks? I want the grape gummies—”

She froze as she registered Huntrix’s glare.

“Right,” Aria muttered under her breath. “Vibe’s off.”

“Just clearing something up,” Reader said without turning. Her eyes were still on Rumi, who hadn’t looked away once.

A long beat passed.

Finally, Huntrix’s third member, Zoey — the usually happy one — broke the tension.

“If you girls are really planning to debut… you should be more careful. Hanging around mystery idols and running into us at every turn? That’s not how real rookies act.”

Sonata laughed, nervous. “We’re just really passionate. Manifestation or whatever.”

Aria rolled her eyes.

Rumi gave Reader a look — something between wariness and... understanding. “Fine,” she said at last. “But if we find out you’re playing games—”

“You’ll what?” Aria challenged.

Rumi didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. Her stare was hard enough.

The Dazzlings watched as Huntrix walked away, slowly dissolving back into the shadows of the city.

The moment they were gone, Aria exhaled sharply.

“They’re onto us.”

“Not all the way,” Reader murmured, finally blinking. “But yeah. We’re getting close to the edge.”

Sonata chewed on a gummy she definitely didn’t pay for. “So what now? Run? Hide?”

“No.” Reader’s eyes drifted to where Jinu had disappeared.

“We learn.”

Later That Night

The apartment was darker than usual. The three girls sat around their flickering phone screens — watching, rewinding, dissecting footage of both Huntrix and Saja. Every frame, every interaction, every moment where something felt a little… off.

“The way her hand glowed,” Aria pointed. “You see that? On the mic? For just a second.”

“That’s not human,” Reader whispered. “That’s definitely something else.”

Sonata perked up. “But they think we’re just human too, right? Like, totally clueless humans?”

“For now,” Reader confirmed.

“And the Saja boys?” Sonata continued, voice soft.

Aria made a face. “Who even are they?”

“They’re not signed. Not online. No social profiles. No birth records,” Reader said. “Just… showed up. Like us.”

Aria sat up straighter. “You don’t think—?”

“I don’t know what I think yet,” Reader said. Her hand hovered near her chest for a second, recalling that brief contact with Jinu — the jolt, the pull.

But she kept that to herself.

Because whatever was happening in this city — it wasn’t just about Huntrix anymore. There was something larger at play.

And somehow, all of them — sirens, idols, and strangers with no pasts — were tied to it.

Far From Downtown

The city’s core shimmered in neon, but the outskirts where Reader had led them were forgotten, dim. The type of district where streetlights flickered out early and no one asked questions. Just how they needed it.

“We need to feed,” Aria growled, pacing near the chain-link fence of a construction yard. “Like actually feed. I’m getting dizzy.”

“Same,” Sonata murmured. “Even grape gummies aren’t cutting it anymore.”

Reader stood still, her gaze scanning the alley’s far end. She had hoped they could hold off longer — at least until they had more answers. But their bodies were screaming for it. That ache behind her teeth was pulsing now. Her magic had been curled up like a sleeping animal, but it was starting to stir… hungry.

“We’ll do it once,” Reader finally said. “Quick. No spectacle. We pick the right kind of target — nothing that’ll get people talking.”

Sonata nodded quickly. “Like… toxic guy energy? The usual?”

Aria cracked her knuckles. “Perfect. Let’s find a jerk.”

It didn’t take long.

A group of men stood by a dive bar’s rear exit, loud, drunk, and overflowing with the kind of ego that made them blind to danger. One was yelling at a woman over the phone, another was bragging about a fight he’d won — or made up. Their negative energy buzzed like flies.

Reader stepped out of the shadows first, eyes low, posture soft.

“Excuse me…” Her voice was sweet, silken. “Could you help me?”

Three heads turned. All at once, the arrogance shifted to desire.

The Dazzlings’ transformation was subtle — just enough glamor to soften their features, just enough magic in their voices to bend the air around them. Their skin gleamed faintly under the dim streetlight. Their eyes pulsed with the softest shimmer.

Sonata giggled, playing with her hair.

Aria leaned back against the wall, silent but staring.

Reader led the exchange, drawing them in with a tilt of her head, a slow smile, her voice soaked in siren song as she asked questions that didn’t need answers.

And then — with a blink — it hit.

A slow, quiet pull.

The Dazzlings fed on emotion, not blood. And these men were fountains of insecurity, jealousy, lust, cruelty. The kind of feelings that left residue in the air. The Dazzlings inhaled it like vapor, their bodies slowly awakening, warming, the fog in their minds clearing.

They didn’t need to touch them. Just... be near. Just let the song do the work.

The men stood dazed, eyes heavy, words slurred. None of them would remember this. Not clearly.

“Let’s go,” Reader said, turning before they fully collapsed into confusion.

Sonata skipped after her, practically glowing. “I feel soooo much better. Like a fruit smoothie, but evil.”

“Next time,” Aria muttered, glancing behind them, “we do it in a cleaner part of town. I stepped on a cigarette.”

Reader didn’t respond. Her mind was already elsewhere.

Because as she looked down the street, she saw something strange in the air — a ripple. A shimmer.

Like someone else had used magic here.

Not theirs.

Someone else's.

Meanwhile — Across the City

Rumi stood in front of a screen, watching grainy CCTV footage. The glow from the dive bar. The blurry image of three figures — almost too elegant to belong in that alley.

She stared.

Zoomed in.

Paused.

The energy spike from earlier still hadn’t faded. The other girls had gone to bed. But she couldn’t shake it.

“Who are you…” she whispered, more to herself than anything.

Huntrix still thought the Dazzlings were human.

But now?

Now Rumi wasn’t so sure.

next chapter

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ya girls broke so anything helps- Buy me a coffee <3

tag list is open

Taglist: @luv1ayala, @qxuanii, @milkcatfern, @weponxwrites, @satansdaughter123, @elegantdeerlady, @notheroverthinker, @mvskedxrtist, @ph1lo-s0ph1a, @snowy-violets, @elaemae

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rheitais · 7 months ago

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Dc x Dp Fallen Moons Pt. 1.5

Was thinking of interactions for this post. So here we go, unhinged thoughts at 1 am on a weekday while I procrastinate. Thank you @kizzer55555 for the parental figure. Clayface is their dad and i feel that it fits for the whole uncanny twins.

Damian: Father, Richard, meet my classmates Daniel and Dante Nightingale. They were assigned to my group project with Jonathan.

Danny and Dan: Nice to meet you, Mr.Wayne. *while deadpanning*

Dick and Bruce: Reeling internally ever so aggressively.

_____________________________

Danny: Dad we met Bruce Wayne today.

Karlo: Is that so? Did you have fun?

Dante: Eh it was kinda boring. I think the only interesting part was his cave but even then he really is just a fruitloop.

Karlo: Of course- Wait what? Did you say cave????

_____________________________

Batman, still in the cave: So it seems you were right Nightwing. Not only are their records fake but even their parent identity is fake and with footage from Oracle, it is believed their possible guardian is Clayface.

Nightwing, patroing: Do you think they are in danger? I mean with how they act and stuff. They might even be metas from what robin put in their file.

Red hood: Are you talking about casper and jade?

Robin: Red hood, I believe that your very ridiculous skills for names need to be reworked. Neither of them are jade.

Red hood: Whatever you say baby bird, as for you Blue and B, those kids couldn't be anymore safe. Honestly.

Batman: What do you know?

Red hood: I don't know, the fact that I'm watching Clayface throw down with some vampire dude in an alley, like a full on cat fight. On top of that, he is winning. Ooh that was right in the ribs, yeah I don't think the vampire dude is going to get away from trying to kidnap his kids and the squirts are cheering him on too.

_____________________________

Karlo, standing over Vald's slightly but bloody deformed body: Come here to help or try taking them too?

Red hood: Honestly, I'll take care of the guy. Just go home it's late as hell and definitely pass their bedtime.

Karlo: Tell your clan they don't have any business looking into me or my family. Also this "thing" is a warning. Try taking them from and every last one of you will feel this tenfold.

Red Robin in coms: Parenthood is one hell of a drug.

Batman, pretty much understanding that feeling from after Jason's death: This case is closed.

_____________________________

3 am and at Bat Burger:

Karlo: Jesus Christ, kids breathe, the food isn't going anywhere.

Dante: But it will start fighting back if we take too long.

Karlo: Food shouldn't be fighting you?

Danny: Home food did, always.

Karlo proceeds to go through the 5 stages of grief.

__________________________________

Harley: K, baby where did you find these munchkins?!

Ivy: Yes because they are definitely not yours.

Selina: Oh don't let you-know-who hear that, he would adopt these kittens in a heartbeat.

Danny: NO, WE ARE STAYING WITH DAD. No more adoption. It started and ended with Dad.

Dante: Dad already swore he would kill both Bruce and Batman if they tried taking us anyway.

Karlo, already done with life and exhausted on the couch: They can try and fail miserably.

_____________________________

[ Masterpost ]

#dan phantom #danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #batfam #dark danny #jason todd #gotham city sirens #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson

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sylusjinwoon · 1 year ago

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{ 202 }

kiss me.

sylus x (non mc)fem.reader

{ oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight | lead me out on the moonlit floor | lift your open hand | strike up the band and make the fireflies dance | silver moon's sparkling | so kiss me… }

sylus was busy with meetings and deals, leaving you to fend for yourself as you kept busy while remaining safely tucked inside of his bedroom.

both luke and kieran were standing guard outside of their boss’ room, shielding you from any potential man that dared wander to your location. knowing that you were heavily guarded, you allowed yourself to relax while lazing around on his bed. sitting back against the headboard, you held a thick, leather-bound tome in your hands, reading an engrossing love story between an immortal vampire and the human woman that he loves.

completely focused on the story you were reading, you were blissfully unaware of how much time had passed, simply snacking on the charcuterie board and sandwiches the personal chef had made for you while taking sips of your red wine. you were right in the middle of your novel when the door bursts open, making your eyes go wide momentarily before relaxing.

sylus was seen taking quick strides to you, loosening his tie as his expensive dress shoes were heard tapping across the floor. “what a damn mess; how dare all of them keep me from you?”

setting aside your book, you open up your arms to sylus, allowing him to land within your embrace. he lets out a huff of your name, features already visibly relaxing when he buries his face within the curve of your neck. taking in the scent of your lavender scented shampoo, sylus lets out a sigh of relief, pressing gentle (almost reverent) kisses against your skin.

you hum while delving your fingers into his hair. “was it a long day for you?”

“hn, you have no idea how much i wanted to strangle those bastards for taking away my time with you.”

you giggle and pick up a sandwich, placing the food against sylus’s lips. with a roll of his eyes, he opens his mouth and takes a bite of it, finishing the rest of the sandwich within mere seconds. you spend the next thirty minutes or so feeding him bites of the food you were unable to finish, with sylus clearing off both full plates of food with a hearty groan.

“thank you for that; i feel much better now, my love.”

with his mood significantly improved, sylus gets off the bed and stands back to his full height. he offers his hand for you to take, and you do so with little hesitation. now within the safety of his arms, sylus twirls you around the luxurious bedroom, humming a tune before leading you toward the record player.

you watch as his long fingertips sift through the collection of records, landing on the one he was searching for before placing it on the player. the moment the needle lands on the vinyl, you heard the gentle instrumentals of a love song, giggling as sylus returns your form to his embrace.

sylus keeps your body locked in a soft and innocent dance with him, chuckling each time he hears your joyous laughter while bringing you inexplicably closer to him. you both continue dancing beneath the moonlight, not stopping until sylus takes a hold of your hand, pressing a kiss against the palm of it.

“had it not been for you, i would have fallen into darkness a long time ago.” a playful smirk graces his handsome features when he leans forward to gently bite down against the side of your hand, earning an audible gasp from you.

amused by your reaction, sylus takes a moment to delve his fingers into your hair. “i love you, more than anyone or anything else in this entire, godforsaken universe. you are what makes me whole… what makes me complete.”

you were left feeling overwhelmed with emotions for him, the love you held for him overflowing, practically brimming over your heart when you huskily whisper to him. “kiss me.”

basking in the way sylus’s breath hitches in response to your gentle command, you stand on the tip of your toes to further reach him, framing at his face while looking at him with a sense of urgency, “you mean the world to me, too… and words can never describe my love for you, so kiss me… and you’ll feel the purity of my love as well.”

sylus needed no further urging after listening to your explanations, surging forward eagerly as he takes both of your hands and places them around his neck. he calls out your name, his voice deepening further, painted with passion and adoration for you before perfectly slotting his lips against yours.

sylus’s kiss was gentle, but demanding, feeling his tongue trace around the borders of your lips, haughtily ordering entrance. with a feign sigh, you open up to him, nearly giggling when you felt just how eager he was to get a taste of you.

you close your eyes when sylus continues to deepen the kiss, letting out a soft moan as sylus growls in response. the way your body kept trembling while trapped in his kiss and embrace was almost too much for you, which in turn made you break from the kiss first in response.

taking deep breaths, you did your best to catch your breath-

yet sylus wasn’t having any of this. instead of giving you a moment to breathe, sylus keeps on chasing your lips, keeping you against him with your lips locked together with him. this uncharacteristic urgency makes you giggle in response, “mmph…! s-sylus… s-stop, i can’t breathe….! hehe- mmmm…”

sylus manages to swallow the rest of your words and moans, unable to stop or pull away from you, quickly becoming addicted to experiencing these playful kisses with you as your grumpy crow kept you in his embrace for the rest of the night ♡

a.n. - ignore me,,,, this is just another self indulgent drabble that i needed in my life (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #jin woon x reader #jin woon x you #.stories

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sflow-er · 4 months ago

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Addressing the top complaints (outside of tumblr) about KAJ winning Melodifestivalen and representing Sweden at Eurovision:

1 "It's a joke act!"

Fun Eurovision entries are a spectrum. There are true joke acts at one end (e.g. We Are the Winners in 2006, Dustin the Turkey in 2008), "serious" acts with fun elements at the other (e.g. Lordi in 2006, Hatari in 2019, Daði Freyr in 2021), and acts with variable levels of humour in between (e.g. Verka Serduchka in 2007, Cezar the opera vampire in 2013, Käärijä in 2023, Baby Lasagna in 2024).

KAJ are also in that middle part of the spectrum. Based on their musical talent and dedication to their craft, you could even put them a couple of notches closer to the "serious" end. In the sixteen years they've been making music and comedy together, they have released seven albums as KAJ and one as Vörjeans, and written two musical plays. They have parodied loads of different genres (e.g. Kpop, rap, EDM, Latin-inspired party music, even opera) and sold out venues in Svenskfinland.

Several of the non-joke acts on this spectrum did very well in the ESC, especially in the popular vote. Just as KAJ did very well in Mello, where they smashed the all-time voting record and defeated runner-up Måns by about one million votes.

2 "They aren't Swedish!"

Céline Dion isn't Swiss, but she still won the ESC for them in 1988. Plenty of artists have represented countries they had little or nothing to do with - which isn't the case with KAJ.

Finlandssvenskar are descended from Swedish settlers who came to Finland from the Middle Ages on, [EDIT1: misconception, many thanks to the user who reached out!]

KAJ are native Swedish speakers from a country where Swedish has been spoken from the Middle Ages on. Part of a minority that has close cultural ties to Sweden, they will have grown up following Swedish entertainment alongside Finnish. Hell, Jakob has even told an anecdote of how it was his biggest dream as a tween to be on Allsång på Skansen (at age 14, he even won a contest to be on stage with Anders Lundin but got cold feet).

Also, Bara bada bastu was written with Swedish producers. It's a Swedish song performed by native Swedish speakers who were specifically invited to participate in Melodifestivalen.

3 "Their dialect isn't real Swedish!"

Fun fact: it's not Finnish influence that makes Ostrobothnian (österbottniska) dialects so distinctive. It's elements retained from Old Swedish (fornsvenska) which have fallen out of use in standard forms of Swedish, such as old words and the tendency to shorten words at the end. Finland wasn't part of Sweden anymore when pronouncing all the last letters and endings as written became a thing there, and the Ostrobothnians still aren't doing it.

[EDIT2: Of course, the dialect does also have Finlandisms, as pointed out by the user who reached out! My point here was to highlight how close Ostrobothnian dialects are to Old Swedish: closer than other Fenno-Swedish dialects or even standard forms of Swedish. So, what KAJ are singing is very "real" Swedish by all measures.]

4 "They are promoting a tired stereotype of Finnish people!"

...said journalists from the country whose hosting organisation made an entire interval act joking about Finland last year.

"Finnish people are extreme sauna lovers" is indeed a stereotype, but KAJ aren't mocking it, nor are Finns at large offended by it. Even those who don't actually enjoy the sauna acknowledge it as a pillar of Finnish culture and tradition. It's where babies used to be born and bodies washed for burial, where ailments were healed and the toils of the week washed away. "The best remedy for the body and soul" as it says in the song.

Not only that, some finlandssvenskar even find Bara bada bastu validating. They are often stereotyped as wealthy snobs in Finland because a small percentage of them are descended from the colonial elite, which is unfair and frustrating to the large percentage who are just completely normal people. By embracing the Finnish national stereotype on the big stage, KAJ are showing that the Swedish-speaking minority are not that different from the Finnish-speaking majority and uplifting them - while also giving Swedish people with Finnish ancestry something nostalgic to relate to.

Also, take a second to consider who or what it is the guys are very gently poking fun at. It helps if you know the random Finnish words and phrases aren't actually random; they are widely joked to be the only phrases that Swedes know in Finnish.

But that's okay though. If this is how you see us, we aren't offended. We are here to help you relax and let go of the stress that everyone feels living in these times - as per Finnish sauna tradition!

#kaj #needed to get this off my chest #i've seen too many annoying takes on other social media in the last week #edited for correction and clarification #not yr

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ymmpily · 3 months ago

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Prologue

Summary: When a winter night turns tragic, young Vincent Rothschild is the sole survivor of a brutal newborn vampire attack that claims his parents’ lives. Rescued by the Cullen family just in time, Vincent is thrust within a world much darker—and more complicated—than he ever imagined. Haunted and afraid, Vincent finds comfort in Esme’s arms, but his presence ignites fierce debate within the Coven. Carlisle, who knew the boy’s parents, is determined to protect him, even as Edward and Rosalie warn him of the dangers: the Volturi’s laws are clear—humans do not belong amongst vampires.

↳ The Cullens x Adopted!Male Reader

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Minor Character Death, and talk about killing main character.

Word Count: 3,268

Masterlist |

September of 1997,

“Vincent, I asked you to put on your coat.” Eleanor sighed as she carefully tugged the warm puffy coat onto her son, zipping it up. Vincent’s face scrunched up in a quiet frown. “Sorry, mama, I really want to play in the snow.” Eleanor chuckled softly, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind his ear. “Alright, darling, but don’t go too far. Dinner will be soon, so listen for me.” Vincent nodded eagerly, a wide grin spreading across his face as he dashed toward the red double doors, pushing them open into the front yard, his boots crunching in the newly fallen snow.

Winter had decided to arrive early this year round, blanketing the Rothschild front yard in a fresh, powdery white. The kind of snow that made everything feel new—safe, almost magical. Eleanor watched her son run through the snow with a tender smile, but as the wind began to howl a faint unease tugged at her chest. The trees swaying along with the rugged wind felt like a warning, a bad omen perhaps? But she dismissed it.

Inside, Eleanor moved to the kitchen, where the sweet, rich but familiar aroma wafted throughout the house—a smell that always calmed Eleanor and made her feel right at home. She stirred the pot with practiced hands, her thoughts wandering to her childhood; when her mother would cook this soup and sit at the table telling stories, fables for her and her brothers to memorize. The routine was comforting, something she always did and Eleanor would continue to follow this routine.

Soon, the sound of the front door creaking open reached her ears. Anthony stepped inside, brushing off the pesky snow that clung to his coat. Behind him, Vincent appeared, cheeks rosy and eyes wide with excitement. He was soaked through, his boots covered in snow, but he beamed as though winter itself was his playmate. “Ah, I was just about to call him in dear,” Eleanor said with a smile, her voice a soothing presence in the warm residence. Anthony chuckled softly, “I figured I’d save you the trouble.”

As Vincent hurried down the hallway, Anthony joined his wife at the dining table. The two exchanging a quiet glance, the comfort of routine settling over them like a warm blanket. “Anything new at the firm today?” Eleanor asked, dishing out bowls of the rich soup. “Nothing too exciting,” Anthony replied with a shrug, his voice carrying the calm indifference of a long day’s work. “Mark got fired today though, apparently he was having an affair with the manager's daughter. To say the least Derek was not happy and Mark won’t be missed. Otherwise it was just a few cases, nothing too pressing.” Eleanor frowned, her thoughts turning to Irene, Mark's wife. “Oh, I hope she’s doing alright…” A quiet sadness enveloped the table as both parents dug into their meal. The rich soup tasted even better than usual, yet Eleanor couldn’t shake the heaviness in her heart as she thought of Irene’s situation.

Vincent, the ever-hungry boy, finished his soup in record time. His bowl was practically clean, save for the mess on his face. He looked up at his mother, his big brown eyes sparkling with eagerness. Eleanor smiled softly. “Of course, sweetheart.” She filled his bowl once more, her hands steady, but her heart still heavy. Vincent’s joyful spirit filled the house, but there was a quiet, gnawing worry deep within her.

The evening soon passed with Vincent watching Scooby-Doo, laughter filling the room as he sat on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. The warmth of family surrounded them. The clink of silverware, the murmur of conversation, and the glow of the fireplace created a sense of peace, but even in the comfort of her home, Eleanor couldn’t push away the strange feeling that had settled deep in her chest.

After two episodes, Eleanor glanced at the clock and softly said, “Vince, it’s time for bed, darling.” Vincent, ever the stubborn child, pouted. “But mama, I want to watch more.” Anthony gave his son a gentle shake of the head. “Not tonight, buddy. You need your rest.” Reluctantly, Vincent agreed. He trudged down the hall, dragging his feet. The house was still and quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of pajamas as Vincent changed into his Spider-Man onesie and climbed into bed. The stars on his ceiling glowed in the darkness, comforting him as he stared up at them, lost in his own thoughts.

It wasn’t long before sleep claimed him—until a loud crash shattered the night's peace. It sounded like glass breaking, followed by hurried footsteps. Vincent’s heart raced as fear took root in his chest. He shot out of bed and crept towards the door, the house eerily silent except for the quickened thumping of his own heartbeat. From the hallway, he heard something else—voices—his mother’s and father’s unmistakable whispers. Then, the unmistakable sound of another set of footsteps. Someone was in the house.

Then came the scream. A blood curdling scream from his own mother—one so full of terror that it froze Vincent’s blood in his veins. “Mama!” Vincent cried, his feet moving before he could think. “Papa!” He rushed down the hallway, every instinct telling him to protect his parents, but the sight that greeted him in the living room was enough to freeze him to his core. Eleanor lay motionless on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath her, staining the once-pristine white rug. Her eyes were wide, unseeing. The man who had once held her so tenderly, Anthony, lay nearby, his body lifeless, his blood staining the floor as a tall, pale figure loomed over them. The creature turned its crimson eyes toward Vincent. In that moment, the fear that paralyzed him broke. He screamed, his voice high-pitched with terror. “Get away from them!” But the creature paid no mind. Its gaze never wavered from Vincent, hunger flashing in its eyes.

Meanwhile in the Cullen residence,

Alice froze, her hands shaking as a vision unfolded before her eyes. The world around her dissolved, and the horrors she saw were like a sickening wave that threatened to drown her. Her breath hitched as her vision came into focus—newborn vampires were attacking a family, and the child was the target. “What is it, Alice?” Jasper’s voice was urgent as he rushed to her side, his face pale with concern. “They’re after a boy… he’s in danger,” Alice gasped, her voice trembling with the knowledge of what was coming. “If they bite him… they’ll create an immortal child. They need to stop.” Carlisle immediately stood, his expression hardening as he took in the gravity of the situation. “Where are they? What does the house look like?” Jasper handed Alice a piece of paper, and with incredible speed, Alice sketched the house she had seen in the vision. The Cullen’s wasted no time. They were on the move, the smell of blood heavy in the air as they reached the Rothschild home.

Vincent didn’t know what to do. The vampire was upon him, pinning him to the ground. Its breath was hot on his face as it bared its teeth, preparing to sink them into his flesh. The world around him seemed to go dark, and just as the vampire’s fangs descended toward his throat, something— someone—tore the creature off him. Vincent scrambled to his feet, terror flooding his veins, and ran into his parents’ bedroom, slamming the door behind him. His sobs filled the darkness as he huddled in the closet, shaking uncontrollably, his tiny body wracked with fear.

Carlisle, his eyes sharp with concern, moved silently through the house, searching for the boy. The last of the newborn vampires were being dealt with by Jasper, Emmett, and Alice, but Vincent’s safety was his priority. He found him, huddled in the closet, shaking like a leaf. The soft sounds of crying were unmistakable. Carlisle’s dead heart ached seeing Vincent in such despair, he knew the boy to be lively, talkative, and more energetic than most boys his age. He knelt beside the human boy, the pale light from the moon seeping within the crack of the door, casting a soft glow upon the boy’s face revealing the tear stained cheeks.

The savage screams of the newborn vampire echoed through the house, each one making Vincent shrink deeper into the shadows of the closet. He curled in on himself, trying to disappear into the darkness. The soft glow of the moonlight that had illuminated his tear-streaked face moments ago faded, leaving him almost completely hidden. Carlisle’s eyes flicked instinctively toward the bedroom doorway as the growls and cries grew nearer—then, just as suddenly, they ceased, leaving behind an eerie, heavy silence.

“Vincent, it’s over now. You’re safe.” Carlisle’s voice was calm, as he extended a steady hand toward the trembling boy. Behind him, his adoptive children entered the room silently, their presence both reassuring and unnervingly still. “The newborns are gone,” Edward spoke softly, his amber eyes flickering to the human child, then to the back of Carlisle's head; his adoptive fathers thoughts loud in the smaller room. Edward knew it was a terrible idea, having a human child join a vampire Coven was unheard of; it was punishable.

“Carlisle, you can’t be serious,” Edward said, his voice tight with disbelief. His amber eyes flicked from the trembling boy to his father figure, searching for any sign of hesitation. “This isn’t like you.” Carlisle held his ground, his gaze steady and unyielding. “Don’t do that.” Edward’s brow furrowed. “What?” The room was still, “Do not use your gift against me,” Carlisle said, his tone firm, edged with rare authority. “If you want to understand my decisions, ask. But stay out of my thoughts.” Edward scoffed, taking a step back as if the words stung. “What happened to you being the voice of reason?” he snapped. “A human in a vampire Coven? It’s madness, Carlisle.” His voice rose, sharp with frustration. “If the Volturi find out, they won’t hesitate—they’ll kill us. All of us. They’ll make sure you watch while they slaughter that boy because you broke their laws.” He gestured toward Vincent, who shivered, eyes wide with fear at the mere mention of dying. “The boy is afraid, it doesn’t take Jasper to tell us that.” Edward spoke, softer now, but no less fierce. “And if you bring him into our world, surrounded by what he should fear most… he’ll never stop being afraid.”

Carlisle pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know what it entails, Edward. I don’t need it broken down.” Beside Edward, Rosalie scoffed, her arms crossed tightly, “You really aren’t thinking clearly,” she snapped. “We’re vampires for christ sake, Carlisle. He's a human child. How long do you think he’ll live?” In the background of the chaos was Esme, who was as gentle as she could be knelt in front of the boy. “You must be scared? I know that feeling, it’s okay now. No one is going to hurt you.” Esme saw as Vincent’s body started calming down, “They argue a lot, but it’s nothing to fear sweetheart.” Emmett placed a hand on Rosalie's shoulder, his tone gentle. “Rose, hey— relax. Let’s hear him out first.” Rosalie looked at her husband with pure disbelief, “I am hearing him out.” She hissed, “What I hear is insanity.”

Carlisle stood firm, and Esme rose from the ground, turning to face him. Her voice was soft, but there was steel beneath it. “Carlisle… this isn’t just risky. If the Volturi finds out, it won’t be a warning. It’ll be an execution.” The room fell silent, save for the human boy's heart. Still she stepped closer to him, taking his hand. “But if this is what your heart believes is right, then I will stand by you—no matter what it may cost.” Carlisle smiled, his eyes looking at their joined hands. “I knew the boy’s parents—Eleanor and Anthony. They were good people,” Carlisle said softly, his voice carrying both memory and sorrow. His golden eyes lingered on Vincent. “I can’t just leave him behind. And handing him over to someone else… That comes with its own risks. He’ll remember tonight, even if he can’t understand it.”

Rosalie scoffed and crossed her arms lightly over her chest, eyes narrowed. “So what now?” She snapped. “Play house? Pretend we’re some perfect little family while the Volturi watches our every move, just waiting for one wrong step to tear us apart.” Emmett didn’t dare speak, rubbing his lover's arm in a quiet attempt to sooth her rage. Rosalie’s amber eyes narrowed on the human boy, unflinching and fierce. There was pity in her gaze as she looked away from the boy. Carlisle remained still and silent, his thoughts filled with conflict, reasoning. His children were right after all. Esme, who had been standing at Carlisle’s side, said. “I understand what you all are feeling,” her gaze swept from Edward to Rosalie, softening as she finally looked up at Carlisle. “This is reckless, dangerous. It could cost everything we’ve worked for.” She paused, looking at Vincent. He was watching everyone closely, his eyes wet with lingering tears.

Before anyone could speak, Alice’s voice broke the brief silence. “I’ve seen him.” All heads turned, even Vincent’s who was now curious who she had seen. “Not clear. Just flashes,” she said slowly. “Moments. A little older. Still human… and alive.” Alice glanced at Vincent, his eyes wide and glinting with curiosity, before turning her gaze back to the others. “In every flash, he is with us.” Jasper stiffened beside her, “The visions don’t hold long.” Her voice wavered slightly, a rare uncertainty creeping in. Edward’s jaw tightened. “This means nothing, you of all people should know the future is unstable—especially around humans. One choice can change everything.” Alice’s golden-honey eyes briefly lingered on Edwards sharp gaze before they shifted to Jasper. “I know,” she replied. “This all feels like a terrible idea, logically anyway. Right now though, the future is clean of blood. We should take that for granted.”

Rosalie let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and jarring. “The future lies, Alice. It always has,” she snapped, arms crossed tightly over the chest. “You’ve seen things before that never came true—things that gave us hope just to rip it away.” Alice flinched slightly, but Rosalie wasn’t finished. “I don’t care what you all decide,” she said coldly, brushing past Emmett’s light touch on her arm. “But if you’re so keen on keeping it—” she motioned toward Vincent with a sneer, “ that disgusting thing, then fine. Just make sure it stays far away from me.” Her heels clicked hard against the wooden floors as she stormed out of the room, fury trailing behind her like a shadow. Emmett hesitated before slipping out of the room after her.

Carlisle stood in silence, his eyes fixed on the empty space where Rosalie and Emmett has been moments before. The stillness clung to the room, thick and unmoving. “Are… army parents really dead?” Vincent’s voice broke the quiet, trembling and thin, glazed with a glossy sheen of fear and disbelief. He didn’t look up. His eyes stayed locked on the floor, as though lifting them might force the truth to solidify—might make the loss feel real. A heavy silence followed, stretching between them like a wall.

Vincent shifted his weight, glancing toward the motherly woman—he couldn’t remember her name, but he remembered her face. Gentle, warm. Just like how she was when everyone was arguing. He had seen her before, when visiting Mr. Cullen, the man who stood next to her. She smiled at him then just like she was now. Vincent desperately wanted to curl up in her arms. Jasper quietly reached over and squeezed Alice’s hand, his touch gentle but grounding. He didn’t feel any thirst when he looked at the boy—no burn in his throat, no instinctual craving—but the boy was human nonetheless. Vincent’s emotions were loud, present still. Fear. Confusion. Jasper kept himself still, not wanting to startle Vincent, not when the boy had finally come out.

Carlisle approached the boy slowly, his expression calm, kneeling down so that his eyes were level with Vincent’s. There was a gentleness in the way he moved, as though any sudden motion might break the boy. “Vincent,” he said softly, his voice smooth as ever, “your parents… they’re just somewhere else now. Somewhere you can’t go—not yet.” He didn’t lie, not exactly. Vincent looked at him for a long moment. His eyes were tired, too tired for someone so young, but something in Carlisle’s words seemed to settle him. He gave a small, solemn nod.

Off to the side, Edward let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. “Carlisle’s made up his mind,” he muttered, not bothering to hide the hint of frustration in his voice. “He’s keeping the boy, I’m done here.” He turned away, disappearing down the hall without another word. Alice lingered, her usually bright demeanor dimmed by unease. She stayed close to Jasper, her fingers laced tightly with his. Though she didn’t speak, her eyes remained on Vincent, watchful and uncertain. Nonetheless, she and Jasper stayed.

A tiny yawn escaped Vincent. Esme’s face softened with instinctive affection. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and gently lifted Vincent off the floor, cradling him against her like he weighed nothing at all. He didn’t resist. Instead, his small arms wrapped slowly around her neck, and he let out a breath—a deep, shuddery exhale, as if he’d been holding it in for hours. Within seconds, his body relaxed completely against hers, his head resting on her shoulder. Jasper stood silently nearby, a small smile creeping onto his lips. He absorbed the calm that had taken the place of fear. Alice, though still tense, softened at the sight, her eyes tracing the lines of the boy’s face as if trying to memorize something important.

The house settled into a pleasant silence, Carlisle’s gaze lingered on the boy sleeping soundly in Esme’s arms. Vincent’s breathing was slow and steady now, his small frame curled gently against her like he had belonged there all along. Esme swayed ever so slightly, humming a tune under her breath that only someone with heightened senses could hear. Her touch was instinctively material, protective. Peaceful. But Carlisle’s mind had already drifted somewhere else. The Denali Coven.

They had been gracious hosts so far—open, welcoming, even joyful in their reunion with extended family. But Carlisle knew the unspoken rules among them, the lines drawn in centuries of mutual understanding. Bringing a human child into their midst, especially one so young and vulnerable, wasn’t something any of them had agreed on. Family, yes. But not without conditions.

The Denali sisters—Tanya in particular—were not always temperate as Carlisle. There would be questions. Objections. Maybe worse. The boy’s presence would shift the balance of everything, no matter how gentle or innocent he seemed. Carlisle could already imagine the looks, the discussions held just out of earshot, the concern that one slip could spell disaster. Still, he said nothing. He didn’t want to burden Esme with the thought—she looked too serene, too full of quiet joy as she held Vincent, her fingers brushing through his hair with a tenderness that made Carlisle’s chest ache. He would carry this uncertainty alone, for now. There would be time to navigate the Denali Coven. Time to explain, to reason, to protect. No matter what Carlisle had made up his mind, the boy was going to be a part of the family.

#twilight #twilight saga #bella swan #edward cullen #carlisle cullen #jasper hale #alice cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie cullen #the cullens x male reader #male reader #twilight imagine #the cullens #the olympic coven #sibling!reader

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theaskywalker · 1 year ago

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hi! I had a small idea with Seth, reader (if you could do fem that would be amazing!) was in Russia for 4 years for her studies, for her coming back. she wanted to Suprise Seth by coming over in his jacket he gave her before she left:) I was thinking in that moment he looked at her (her eyes to be exact) he imprinted on her. (I would love for reader to have really sharp canines, not a vampire but almost like it! that's how my teeth have been and wanted to see someone include it in a fic:)

Seth Clearwater x Fem! Reader

Thank you for the request ghosty-boo-shh! It was an interesting idea and very fun to write. Hope you enjoy it! 😊

❥ You had always been close with Seth Clearwater.

❥ Having grown up in the same neighborhood and with your mothers being best friends it was no surprise that the two of you became practically inseparable.

❥ Sitting together during classes.

❥ Passing notes to each other when the teachers seperated you.

❥ Having lunch at the cafeteria.

❥ Studying together after school.

❥ Spending the weekends chilling at the beach or indoors watching movies and playing video games.

❥ Leah always joked that you acted like a married couple.

❥ Which turned the both of you into blushing fools.

❥ Seth liked to call you his little Dracula due to your extremely sharp canines.

❥ He loved that characteristic about you.

❥ And constantly reminded you of how cool it was.

❥ You in turn called him all sorts of silly nicknames referencing his favourite pop culture elements.

❥ By the time high school rolled up, you had fallen hopelessly in love with your best friend.

❥ You wanted to confess your feelings but the fear of him not returning them kept you silent.

❥ That's when everything changed.

❥ Your impressive academic record had won you a scholarship to attend one of the most prestigious colleges in Russia.

❥ It was your dream to study there and you were ecstatic.

❥ The day before you left, Seth came at your house to say goodbye.

❥ He surprised you by giving you his leather jacket that you had been admiring since the day he bought it.

"Something to remember me while you're at Moscow" he said.

❥ Without thinking you kissed him hard on the lips.

❥ A kiss that he reciprocated after a moment's hesitation.

❥ You confessed your feelings afterwards and Seth did the same.

❥ A long distance relationship wouldn't be easy.

❥ You promised to call him everyday and send emails in-between.

❥ And he promised to wait for you as long as it was needed.

❥ At first the communication between the two of you was daily.

❥ But after several months Seth's responses became less and less frequent.

❥ You didn't understand what caused this change in behaviour.

❥ Phone calls became non existent.

❥ And emails would be replied once a week at most.

❥ You patiently went along with it hoping that everything would go back as normal when you returned to Forks.

❥ After 4 years of studying abroad you finally graduated and made the long journey back home.

❥ The first thing you did after arriving in Forks was to go at Seth's house to surprise him.

❥ You had planned this little surprise beforehand by telling your parents to keep your return a secret.

❥ You even wore the jacket Seth gave you before leaving, thinking it would be nice to show him how much his present meant to you.

❥ Sue Clearwater greeted you warmly and explained that Seth and Leah were at the beach with friends.

❥ You went straight to La Push and saw the Clearwater siblings sitting across a fire roasting marshmallows together with Jacob Black, Quil Ateara and another boy.

❥ Leah was the first of the group to spot you and happily called you over.

❥ You gave Leah a hug and greeted Jacob and Quil, who introduced you to the third boy, Embry Call.

❥ Shyly, you turned to Seth and greeted him with a nervous "hello".

❥ The moment Seth locked eyes with you time freezed and gravity no longer held him in place.

❥ You were equally awestruck and unable to utter a word.

❥ Seth had loved you for years but nothing had prepared him for this extraordinary feeling that took over him.

❥ It was like your soul had touched his in an intimate way and nothing would ever be the same.

❥ Jacob Black broke the silence by asking you and Seth to collect more firewood.

❥ The two of you agreed.

❥ As you silently collected twigs along the beach, Seth noticed the jacket that you wore and grinned.

"You still have it after all those years"

❥ You smiled at Seth and told him that the jacket was a reminder of all the beautiful memories you had together.

"And I hope that it will be the start of many more to come" you added.

❥ Seth looked at you with adoration and claimed your lips in a gentle kiss that gradually grew more passionate.

❥ By the time the two of you made it back to the group with the firewood you were tasked to collect, one thing was certain.

"This is the beginning of something good"

Masterlist

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profanepurity · 1 year ago

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Belial is a priest, (technically) a vampire, and a demon. What a talented boy! Character Bio below the cut!

Belial is the 68th spirit recorded in The Lesser Key of Solomon. He is ranked as a king in command of 130 legions of demons and spirits. He was the second to have fallen after Lucifer, is a priest of the Cult of Bael, and is the head of Hell’s Vices as Lord of Iniquity. With Naamah, he sired the first creature to be conceived with a hunger for blood, making him the Father of Vampires. One of his titles, “Worthless One”, was given to him as a reminder that he has no place or value in Heaven. Having carved himself into a highly proficient killer, Belial’s reputation was built from blood and violence. He is a merciless and unyielding force, which is often attributed to his association with the element of earth. He demands commitment and dedication from those who work with him. Harsh consequences are placed on his devotees that fall short of this. Belial is a known sadist, yet his bloodshed is partially motivated by his desire to not only fortify his domain in Hell but also the coregency he is a part of. As a fallen Power, his need to defend the people that he cares for is above everything. For those that he is close to, Belial is incredibly patient and protective. He is very selective with who he allows into his circle, and seeing any vulnerability from him is a sign of trust.

#I might revisit his sword idk if I like it yet #but I do like Belial he is a very very good boy #the lesser key of solomon #ars goetia #belial #demon oc #demon priest #vampire #monster #monster boy #priest oc #occult #demonology #vampire oc #tw blood #vampire art #demon boy #oc art #my art

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fictionlover100 · 17 days ago

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✨ Chapter 1 — The Princess and the Blade

🩸Genre: vampire au • gothic • mystery • slow-burn romance

🗡️Pairing: ot7!Enhypem x reader; vampire!Enha x ???!reader; Enha x oc

⌨️ Word Count: 13.2K

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: This story contains themes that may be distressing to some readers. Violence & blood • Death, grief & reincarnation trauma • Supernatural manipulation & power imbalance • Mental distress & identity confusion • Implied suicidal ideation (past lives)• Possession, curses & ritual magic• Historical trauma (war, persecution)More specific warnings appear at the top of each chapter.

Synopsis🗝️ Seven immortals. Seven stories. One cursed legacy.

“You may only ask questions during the interviews. You cannot leave until the final story is told. And no one—not even you—is who they appear to be.”

🩸 Masterlist🩸 / ✨ Prologue — The Letter ✨/ 🕯️ Taglist Signup🕯️

You could feel the soft pale warm light grace your face through the curtains in the guest-room you had fallen asleep in. You don't remember how you fell asleep or ended up back into the guest-room. But, you didn't feel scared just a dull calm and peace. You knew things now that you should fear but instead comfort. This knowledge was of the secrets in the shadow, the supernatural world existing and now you are a part of it. Pulling you form your thought you hear a soft knock on the door, and you get out of the bed to answer the door.

At the door you see the young man who had welcomed you to the manor standing in front of you. Ni-Ki had your phone in his hand and held it tauntingly with a smirk on his face.

"When did I give you that?" you speak reaching for your phone out of his hand.

"Last night after you looked at the painting and when I told you about what we are" Ni-ki spoke as he put your phone in his pocket before you could grab it.

"I should fear you….why am I so calm " You feel your breathing pick up. Ni-ki see this and grab both side of your face forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

"Calm down" Ni-Ki speaks in a melodic tone as his eye turn an icy blue "I told you last night to make the interview easier. You are here to tell our story and now you know what we are. Now give me your laptop."

Now you put the piece together. Ni-ki and the other people in the manor are Vampires and you reaction at the mention made you want to run. So, last night after the revelation he had compelled you to feel numb and not scared by them. The information would be a shock to anyone but with the power of compulsion clearly use by said vampire, it was obvious that he had dull your emotion.

You push his hand away from your face and feel your yourself calm "So, Vampire can control emotion that's great"

Ni-Ki see you turn away from him and walk toward your bag. His eye shows his inner turmoil of having to dull your emotions. He know that you never would like it but he also knows that this would be the only way that you would be okay with what they are.

"You do realize I need some way of taking notes and record of these interviews" You grab the laptop out of your bag and turn back towards him to hand it to him. Even though you were calm the anger towards him for taking away your emotional reaction frustrated you to the core and you couldn't hide in your face.

Ni-Ki takes the laptop and began to reach for another item in his leather jacket and pull out a tape recorder. Ni-Ki speak with a cheeky smile, " That is why… we provided you with this. We have many tapes for you and we will provide a typewriter and a journal in each interview"

You could help but role your eye as you grab the tape recorder. You walk back into your room to began to prep for the interview leaving Ni-Ki standing in the doorway. You began to go through your bag in search of your Notebook to make sure you have your pre planned question.

" Your going to be interviewing one of us each day." Ni-Ki slips in quietly, wearing an expression that blends mischief and seriousness. He returns her notebook with a knowing smile, admitting he compelled her mind to accept the existence of immortals and vampires. His hand tapped your shoulder and handed back to you. " I read through it and gave you some better questions to ask"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer notion of Ni-Ki breach of privacy " Okay, If I have to follow your guys rules then listen to one of mine." He crosses his arm and lean against the bookshelf near the open door waiting patiently for your rules. " No more digging through my stuff, no more compulsion on my emotions, and I need to know why you feel the need to control my emotion and my choices"

You see his face change from one of amusement to seriousness. Ni-Ki’s words carry the weight of necessity and warning “You needed the truth in your blood, not just your mind. This isn’t a choice anymore.”

"You said I had to stay here for 7 days." Ni-Ki nods his head silently "At least let me tell my roommate that I will be gone for the week"

" Already taken care of last night…You had sent her a message about it last night before I told about the whole supernatural state of the world" Ni-Ki tilted his head still leaning on the bookcase silently waiting for you reaction.

"At least let me look less sleepy before we began the interview process" You say waiting for Ni-Ki to leave the room. He raise both his hand in surrender and walked out of the room and waited for you to get ready for the day.

You gotten fresh up and made your self look decent and grabbed your notebook and the Tape recorder that was given too you. Outside your door stood Ni-ki patiently waiting for you to exit. Once you had open the door again a small smile formed on lips.

" Let get the first interview over with" You say as you join Ni-Ki. He guide you to the opposite side of the manor.

" The first person you are interviewing is the eldest Immortal in our clan" Ni-Ki spoke. " His name is Heeseung and he can be well… you'll see."

In this section of the manor, seemed more like a castle with many more painting but in a different style. The painting showcasing landscape you do not recognize and a castle in the distance. Then you both had finally arrived in front of Heeseung door. Before Ni-ki knocked on the door, he turn to you and whisper " The state of the room will be quite a mess but once you here his story it will make much more sense,"

Ni-Ki knocks on the door and on the other side you here a faint voice speak "Come in."

Ni-ki warning of the room, was an understatement. You could see that the curtains of the room were close the only light eliuminatikng was from the fire place. There where many empty bottle of wine, paints scattered across the floor, the bed was unmade, many canvas were destroyed or covered in single color, and clothes laying about. The only nice kept item was a painting above the fire place that had now sign of paint or stain on it of a women with a beautiful color-filled landscape in the background.

Ni-Ki was the first one to step into the room. "The Interviewer is here"

He stood by the fire place sitting in a chair staring up at said painting.The figure that you assumed to be the immortal Heeseung stood up and finally turned to the pair of you. He was wearing your a loosely fitted white button up shirt that had some random paint stains on it with a dress paints, and barefoot. His hair was unkempt and in disarray. He stood with a cup full of what you assumed to be wine. He looked to Ni-Ki before eyeing you. He spoke in a mockingly "This is the famed Interviewer that Ni-Ki begged us to talk to,"

Ni-Ki took a step forward protectively in front of you " You agreed to this no killing them and you get to vent about all you want" You were stunned at Ni-ki statement. You were no therapist you were just a mere eager journalist.

"Fine." Heeseung spoke and took a big sip from the wine glass. "I won't kill them or hurt them just a plain interview"

Ni-ki nodded before he turned to exiting the room and leaving you alone with the second immortal vampire you have ever meet. Heeseung gestures you towards a couch that was covered in a white tarp that was paint spot across it, that he removes off for you to sit on. He began to clear the small coffee table in front of the couch so that you can put down your stuff.

You sit on the couch and arrange the recorder carefully, the quiet clicking sounds filling the heavy silence. Heeseung sat across from the couch on a fancy chair that seemed to have golden accent.

Your voice is steady but layered with curiosity and caution “So your immortal and that a lot to take in but the biggest question that comes to mind how did you become immortal?"

Heeseung’s gaze is sharp, measuring — his voice cold but not without sadness “A woman died to make me eternal.”

The flicker of a shadow crosses his face as the story pulls you both into the past. "How did she make you immortal?"

"That is a long story. It start way before I became like this" His eye wandered to the portrait of the mystery women.

The grief in his eyes were palpable, you knew in that moment that the story he was gonna tell might break your soul. "Then, tell me what was life like before and after you turned?"

" Are you sure you want to hear it?" Heeseung quip to you. I nodded signaling silently for him to answer the question. " The story is quite long and sad but it started in kingdom that is largely erased from the history book"

Heeseung smirked thinking about his mortal life and began to tell you the accounts of his mortal life and the tragedy of his turning that took his will to fight.

*italics is talking and tell you about thing from his memories of events*

I grew up long ago in a kingdom known as Haesung. It was a beautiful place according to my parents but the image I grew with was a land battered by decades of war. The kingdom was broken and loyalty was my currency. It was run on the political betrayals and stained borders. But, I learned quickly that the only way to live is to only relay on yourself. I grew up with a King who had his history of mistress, even though he had a queen.

I had given my life to the kingdom and a loyal solider, a fighter in the King's army. I quickly climbed the ranks and cemented myself an important part of the King army. Then, I was ask to join an order of spies that worked in shadows and politics within the kingdom. This order; titled The Black Vow is loyal to no one just the idea of the continuation of the kingdom and its people. I was never originally supposed to be in the castle form the moment I joined I was moved to a different type of battlefield, one that was in market and village that I was born in.

Then one day, the king's health waned and there was no official heir in sight. I was sent a royal summons through a fellow knight that was a part of The Black Vow named Gillian. The official summon had told me that I was reassigned by the king himself, from working in the village to the castle. Under his orders I was supposed to keep eye and protect a girl that was need to ensure the kingdom safety. Gillian never told me why I was need for this but insisted that ones loyal to the vow to be with the ward of the king. That where it all began at the cursed Castle.

The Castle hall where always pristine and clean there were painting of the many royal family that grace the hall. I was called to face the King's council for an unknown reason. I come across these large double door and hear chattering on the other side. I push my way through seeing the big circular chamber in front of me. The seat directly in might line of site was a throne made for the king himself but he was not on the throne it was his second wife sitting there the new queen with a stern look upon here face. The other seat surrounding here filling the circular room were filled with scheming noble man that where loyal to her and a general that I knew was at her beckon call.

As soon as I enter and reach the middle of the room I kneel and began to speak " My Queen, permission to speak."

She waved her hand allowing to state my business to the rest of the council. I know that I need to choose my words carefully in front of the council, "The king has sent a message to me to come here and serve a special guard detail to one of his wards." I see that every person that are a part of the council instantly shift.

"May I see the note, Heeseung High Knight of Haesung" Heeseung hands the queen the note from my pant pocket. She quickly gaze over it, the anger build on her face after every word she reads.*

" Am I to believe you are being sent to the castle to protect the ward of the king" The queen spoke in a compose but anger filled tone.

" I was not informed of who the protection was for but I was given order by the King," Heeseung say calmly and choose my words carefully. He need to fly under the queen radar and not cause to much trouble.

I knew that the order as many of its own in the castle but I didn't know if the queen herself had any knowledge.

"Gillian take Heeseung to the witch in the red tower" The exact same vow member that hand me the king's order was the queens personal guard and he was sauntering across room towards me. I quickly bow and exit with him toward the mysterious ward.

"Long time no see" Gillian spoke with a smirk. "The tales from the vow say that the ward is a girl named Arae but, nothing other than that "

"I am curious to know why the king wanted me to watch this girl" Heeseung speak plainly as servant and other guards that where walking in the opposite direction."I am supposed to be on the field not a protection detailed"

" Well maybe you will gain better favors." Gillian tease Heeseung as he walks backwards to talk. He was the type of soldier that liked to pass the time with joke and conversation. Often Heeseung thought he liked the sound of his own voice than of silence fill the void*, "Besides information here in the castle is currency."

"Are their any other rumors that has followed this mystery ward." If information was currency, then might as well know what the whisper speak and find out the truth. But, in my many years as an immortal I still wonder why the vow chose me.

"They say that she might be another mistress" Gillan often knew all the whispers in the castle, "But the vow have no clue why she is important to the king."

"Why is she so important to the vow?" Heeseung expected an explanation from him but all he gave back was more questions.

"Why hide her away from the kingdom?" Gillian spoke with a giggle in his tone. " She has private meeting with the queen but the bow has no information on this ward"

I couldn't find a response but I knew in that moment that the girl I was about to meet was the loneliest person in the kingdom.

Once we had finally arrive at the tower we reach the sight of a red door with black accented handles. It seems that this room took an entire wing of the castle. "She is a quiet the beast, I trust that you will ensure information about her will get back to the vow….The queen might ask you to leave ensure you have ear in the room before she request privacy with your ward."

Heeseung nodded and heed his caution. Then Gillian turned back and proceed to the door. Gillan knock on the wooden door and it creak open. Gillian gesture for me to enter and I do so. He pats my back as I enter and here him murmur under his breath a silent prayer.

The room was large and seemed to take up this side of the castle. The entry had a bay window that showed the outside world and a bookcase covering one side of the room. The surround walls where painted and filled with picture of thing that happened on the battlefield and other picture of other events that I could hardly recognize. There was no bed in this room, but on the far right of the room there is a door that I assume leads to her bedchambers. I see a girl with one hazel and one blue eye in a regal dress with straight black hair and crouching behind a couch in the middle of the room with a painting knife in her hand. She looked like a scared child that saw an enormous monster. I can see the fear in her eyes and she clearly didn't trust me.

Heeseung put his hand in the air to signal peace "I was sent by the king to protect you… I am High Knight Lee Heeseung." She doesn't respond, so with my hand in the air I slowly approach her, "I am not gonna harm you."

In that moment, something switched in her face and she began to swing the knife at me, on instinct I back up. Then after the initial shock of her attack I quickly disarm her and she doesn't fight back instead freeze in spot and drop the knife from her hand. She push's me out of the room and in an instant I was outside, in the hallway again and the red door that let me slam in my face.

I stayed outside the door all night waiting for the girl I just met to let me in. She stayed in the room for an entire week with no servants walking in as I stood outside the door like a mere castle guard not the high knight title I had work hard to acquire.

"How long did it take for you to get her to trust you?" You asks pulling him out of his memories

"It took her a week to finally exit her room. She didn't know that I witness her exiting" He mused "She was sneaking around the castle at night when all the servant and guards where asleep, just to make food."

A smile that was laced with silent adoration for her, graced his face. Standing from his elegant chair and grab his now empty wineglass. Making his way over to some open wine bottle scattering the room, turning with his back now facing you.

As he found the exact bottle he wanted to drink he spoke again and began to fill his wineglass, "Establishing trust was a long process. It took another 3 month for her to let me even step back in that room. Most of the time she left the wing of the castle was if the queen insisted and or the occasional event. It wasn't until 6 month after that I had finally heard her voice."

He made his way back to the chair with a now full wineglass and finally answer "That when I knew she trust me. So… 9 months"

It was in the castle garden, when she finally started to speak to me.

Her voice came out softly and she was crouching down to the smell the flowers and Heeseung stood by her side quiet and observing the surroundings,"You know that the other women in the palace whisper about you."

The way her voice was a light as air itself surprised me in that moment. Over the past months, I heard whispers that she never talks and when she does it was only in front of the queen. But, here she was speaking; to me of all people.

Heeseung was flustered at the sound of her voice. "Uhh…What do they whisper about?"

Her eyes are filled with curiosity and wonder as her gaze travels across my very being.

She stood up and turned to face Heeseung looking and silent observing his face. "They say you are a noble warrior and that you are unmarried among other things."

She turns to walk away and I couldn't help but follow along. It strange really like a magnetic pull that made me more drawn and protective with after that. It was one of the few moment where she was vibrant and not buried behind a wall. But from the 9 month of just being by her side it was clear that most of the protection she need was from inside the castle walls. I knew she need a signal or something that would help avoid problems. So with the little trust I got from her, I used it.

"I was thinking that we need to establish a signal for you to give me when your in danger" Heeseung couldn't help but gaze into her eyes. There was a spark that lit them and held this curiosity he couldn't place."My job is to protect you and now that you have decide to trust me, Arae. This will help me ensuring your safety."

She smirked like she was masking something and continued to walking through the gardens. She wasn't looking at Heeseung and began to walk away picking up the pace of her steps, "Why?…Doesn't me screaming for help not signal for danger?"

He follow her as she quickly walking the garden and back in the direction of the castle.* "That always an option but I'm talking when the danger is not so direct but in whisper and conversations you fear… Beside just a signal or gesture only you know when your in direct danger would be helpful "

I knew that it was a good progress by her finally talking to me. Unfortunately, it was the same day when I see how difficult her life truly was and the way she put walls between her and other people.

She body seemed it could hide her growing anxieties and she turn towards Heeseung. She couldn't look at him, instead look at her hand rather than his face. She took a deep breath and the look in her eyes was one filled with hesitation, and began to pick at her fingernails.* " I think this conversation is best back in the tower where there aren't as many ears and eyes on my… actions"

I quickly understood why the patrols of the garden had risen over the time while we were in the garden. I gesture to guide her back to the tower. The walk back was quiet, only hearing the servant's chatter and gently tap of foot movement could be heard. Once we finally make it back to her safe space she finally fill the silence with her gentle voice.

Arae was pacing the entry room and she looked out the window making sure there was no wandering people, "Most of the people in the castle see me as a ward of the king…in there eyes I am a mistress."

She turns her back to me and stares out the window. I could feel her fear rising, she does not face me as utter her next words so cautiously. It seemed like she wanted to disappear.

She spoke in a fright filled tone. This was her biggest secret and if any of the queen spies or loyal follower heard it spoken, it would lead to more punishment." The king is my father and my mother was a noble lady that dabble in magic. She was a friend too the queen."

Heeseung keep quiet and letting her speak without judgment. This wing was her safe space and she feared the judgment outside of that room. She spoke again this time gaining more courage to look at him with each word she spoke,"My mother dabbling in magical totem and knowledge had an affect on her pregnancy with me…that why my eye are different colors. It also left me with an ability that grants me vision or glimpses of the future"

I couldn't help but wonder at the possibility of her powers and it's various uses. Then it all circled back to one question that stuck in my mind.

Heeseung face showed the many though and question that filled his head. In that moment, the only question that mattered came to mind "Is that why the queen constantly ask to speak to you in private?"

She nodded back at him. Her hand was spinning a ring that she received long before they had ever met. It was the only thing of her mother she kept. It was the only jewelry she was allowed to keep. She spoke again still twirling the ring around her finger , " She ask me about my vision if there attacks or plans… Most of my vision tell of the future and I can hardly piece them together. That why I draw it like this focus and clarity I can find to understand the images"

Heeseung understood that the drawing on the wall were in fact not from her imaginations but glimpse of the future events that haven't happened. He had seen her draw or paint randomly when he would check on her but he the piece together of some of her painting. He understood that she was only a tool to the kingdom used to win wars and foil plans.

Heeseung had one last question "Why tell me now?"

"If you really are here to protect me from danger, then I need you to know what that entails "

The gap between us close as she take a step away from the window. "I do not wish for you to be under the same danger as me. You are a noble knight with a life outside the castle and I am nobody. Just a mere tool used by the queen to check the kingdom's loyalty"

She shared to her fear of the queen to me that night. All the threat on her life, the way her powers worked, how the queen would slap her every time one of her vision of the future did not come true. It was easy to talk to her and even easier to just sit with her while she painted in silence. Over time, we got closer and we continued to talk about her life and the thing she went through. I failed to notice the follow of the conversation change over time from worries and concern to personal interest and childhood stories. It was somehow easy to talk to her, I didn't have to worry about titles, class, and politics. Eventually we came up with signals and action to know when the other was in danger.

"What were some of the signals?" you ask him with a smile etched on your face. The way this immortal talked about the mysterious ward he need to protect, like he was admiring a sunset.

Pondering for moment, he recollected a couple of them. But one signal in particular his mind went back to, he couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at the mere thought of it. He was playing a reels of that memory when they had created it. Lost in the memories as he tried to remember the color of her gown, her dark chocolaty brown long wavy hair, and there combined laughter blowing in the wind.

"We hand many signals. One in particular was from to her about her movement. If I need her to stay I would make my hand into a fist. If I need her to move again I would show her the palm of my hand."

The words he spoke had brought him some comfort but, quickly changed into the same mournful look he held when talking about his home. "Did it work… the signals did it protect her from danger?"

Heeseung couldn't look you in the eye as he spoke about those times. It was like a boy standing in front of his mother when he had done something wrong. "It worked for a while. The threats on her life increase as the queen used her powers and sought her out more. The danger became more physical the more I had to intervene and the more injuries."

Heeseung took a breath sharing something he felt was intimate about him, "Often with those injuries I would have to bandage and heal it myself. But, she saw a pretty bad injury and insisted on taking care of me. It was one of the shared moments that I was just another guard. I was exhausted and couldn't stop her generosity. It was one of the first night I didn't sleep in the guardroom. I slept on the couch she hide behind when I first met her in the entry room."

The paused taking a sip a long sip from his wine-glass. Heeseung smiled at the memories of her constant nagging when she was bandaging him. Then his arm reached around himself touch a scar that was all too familiar. "I didn't know it then but looking back at those moments. It was one of the few moment that we didn't care for title, caste, or class. It was one of the few moment of peace and not worrying about the danger or threats."

There was an assassination attempt on the king one night. Through Heeseung many contact within the black vow, he knew that there was a growing resentment within the kingdom for the king and queen. They had used Arae wing of the castle to enter from and Heeseung was able to stop it form happening but in doing so word had gotten out that there was a secret heir of the king.

Heeseung had fought off every attack and attempt at killing Arae, to the public she was a the next in line. So these people that were against the ruler soon targeted her and he like the noble knight he was would stop them every time. However, this particular time he had a deep gash from his shoulder down the length of his back. Arae had saw the wound, she was scared in that moment and Heeseung knew by her face.

Arae turns Heeseung around so she could see the gash better "Heeseung…Are you okay?"

Heeseung chuckled but the he felt the wound on his back sting. He tired to down play the seriousness of his wound "I'm fine princess… it just a scratch."

Arae huffed a stress breath and she grab his arm dragging him to her bedchambers. She spoke in murmurs and Heeseung didn't pay attention. He was more focused on the fact that he was being dragged to her bedchambers. Once they enter the chambers, Arae guide him to her bed and spoke before she thought gesturing towards her neatly kept bed, "Lay down on your stomach and take off your shirt."

Heeseung eyes widen at the statement but, she did not seem fazed. She stared at him waiting for him to follow the instructions. There is a pregnant pause before Heeseung decide to listen. He took off the light patted armor that was fraying at the seams slowly. He unbuttoned his loose fitted tunic and carefully remove it off his battered body. Arae look caught glimpse of past injuries and some ones that hadn't fully healed. There was bruises across his toned body some in purple and yellow cascading across his skin. Finally, he turns to lay down on his stomach on the covers of the bed. Arae went to a hidden drawer where she kept some first aid that she had stolen over the year.

Heeseung turned his head to see were she was going and see her walk into another room that he assumed was a bathroom. She return with a damp cloth and some other thing to help with bandaging him. She sat next to him on her bed with all the supplies and began to apply.

Arae had taken a damp cloth that was drench in some clear liquid which he knew was some alcohol. Arae was wring the cloth out into a bowl and spoke as she began to clean his wound, "You can keep putting yourself in danger for me. Your injuries are getting out of hand and you aren't recovering fast enough. "

Heeseung winces ever time she wiped and dabbed his gash. But as she ranted on about her anger that he treating his injuries by himself, her touch was less gentle. Heeseung felt more sting pressure on his wound. He tried stopping her to tell to easy up and grunting out with each sting, " Princess… Princess…Arae please go easy on the wound."

Arae only realize what she was doing and pause calming her quelling anger, "I'm sorry… I just hate to see you hurt and I just sit around not helping,"

Heeseung didn't how to make her feel helpful. So there rest of time of her cleaning and banding was this comfortable silence. Arae spoke to him again, "I am done with the stingy part just need to wrap the bandage. Can you sit up?"

Flipping over from his stomach and sat up; dangling his legs off the front edge of her bed. She was focused on wrapping him, but her closeness to his toned body could not prevent her from blushing in that moment. Heeseung saw her cheek become a rosy tint and chose to ignore the warmth and safety he felt in that moment. He spoke to her to try and fill the awkwardness and distract him from his flushed state, "It my job to protect you, princess… I know that you feel useless but I don't know how to resolve your need."

She had lifted his arms so that she could continue to wrap the bandage around his upper body. "Let me help you… Teach me more than just signals."

Heeseung waited for her to finish wrapping him up before responding because he was afraid that his voice would give away his emotions. She had fully wrapped his long gash on his back and pulled last bits of the binding over his right shoulder to tuck into binding across his chest.

She patted his binding over his shoulder and backed up a little not directly looking at him. Heeseung spoke, "I can just put you at risk or use you as bait. I do not need another thing to worry about."

The silence gather between and she lift her head finally looking at him. Arae knew this wasn't a great time to ask him to teach her. But, she was determined to not be sideline in her own life. She didn't want to be weak anymore. Heeseung gather his lightly battered armor and shirt in his arms and began to leave the room,"Thank you, for taking care of me."

Arae didn't respond but stood in the same spot as facing her bed as he left the room.

The silence began to fill the void as he choose his words carefully. He ran his hand over his face trying to calm his sadness and longing for her out of his mind. "She asked me later on if I could train her so that I wasn't always risking my life. So, under severe protest on my part, I indulged her."

In that moment for a second you could read the emotion right off his face. The grief, anger, sadness, and severe regret shimmered across his exhausted form. Then, he quickly put the mask of indifference back on and he went back to his rambling. "It was hard at first to train her without the servant or other kings guard noticing. But we decide we to train in the mild of the night when most of staff and others slept We would practice for hour and hours til she got it right."

The way he spoke about her with a longing made it very clear to you, that she was no mere ward to him. It was clear that somewhere in that time of Heeseung guard duty to protect this ward had turned to something more than just duty for him. "So when did it change?"

He changed his posture and became defensive," When did what change?"

It was clear you asked the right question. That there was something he refused to speak about but need to get off his chest. "You know what I mean. When did you start to see more than just your duty, but as someone that you needed more than life itself?"

Heeseung didn't look at you and was silent for a while. He knew if he talked about those memories, the one that showed more about you it would break him. He knew that if it breaks him, he could never really put the piece together again.

" If you really want to know it was one of the many night we spent training"

There was an enclosed space in the palace grounds that we used as a training. It this courtyard with only one entrance and exits; the only place where servants and guard rarely entered. The moon was glowing high in the night sky. There where some lanterns that were flickering but subdued.

They had been training in everything from distance weapons to hand-to-hand combat. She was holding a long-sword and Heeseung was correcting her posture. "Relax your shoulder. Your carrying too much tensions, that leads to that sword becomes heavier."

She listen to instruction fairly well. It was like that every time I made a comment and she would instantly fix it. Her mind had long been her weapon but, in our training she use her mind and body to adapt quickly. In every miss step and bruise she acquired, there was this unyielding determination that no one could dim. She took her every bruise like a badge of honor. She did this funny thing where she would see if we had matching bruises. But she long for more than just stance and basics.

"You know I need to actually practice not memorize proper form right," She spoke with a little annoyance. She understood that this was par for the course in the training. But she longed to be able to fight to be able to stand beside him against everything.

So an idea popped in her head. " Spar me… I need an actual challenge and we have gone over the basic what is it�� 77 times"

The idea of she spoke was; in my opinion; laughable. I have more experience and training but, I couldn't really deny her. The magic…The fire in her eyes is the one thing that I could not deny. So like any rational human I indulged her.

" Fine but I not gonna going easy " Heeseung unsheathed his own long sword and stood his typical fighting stance. The danced around each other neither one making the first move waiting for the other to struck them. Heeseung meet her gaze and tries to read the move she make but, grew bored of the dance.

Heeseung lunged forward at swipes at Arae. She swift doge the blade and knock his sword back to him. She smirks at him " Your being predictable."

Heeseung smiles back at her and circles around her. He was astonished by her ability to fight back," Nice. But, you can't keep blocking and dodging forever."

Heeseung began to strike again and the swords clang together. It was a quiet rhythm of sword clashing, striking, and countering each other blows. Heeseung and Arae had both worked up a sweat but neither yielded to the other. Heeseung lunged forward with swiftness that catches Arae off guard. She dodges it in time but the sword manages slash her the side of left arm.

She doesn't wince but smirks back at him. Heeseung looks at her and speaks,"Just a little too slow"

Arae raise her sword towards him and speaks " Maybe but it's not the end of yet."

The moonlight glints against her sword and the light bounce into Heeseung eyes. It his temporary blindness creating and opportunity that she takes. She choses to swing her sword towards him. He flatter slightly and steps back to balance. Arae see him flatter and uses that to sweep his leg out from under him. He landed on the ground with a thud and he feel the point of the sword near his neck. He looks up in the direction of the sword and sees towering over him the hidden princess in the shadow of the cold glowing moon.

In that moment Heeseung couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. Both of them were breathing heavily. Arae was waiting for him to utter a surrender. He smirks and in breathless voice," I Yield… not bad for just learning the basics."

Arae removes the sword aimed at his neck and offer her left hand "Told you… I learn quick"

Heeseung grabs her left hand and pulls her down to the ground with him. She let's out a surprise yelp at his action and lands directly on top of him. There face inches apart and staring it each other's eyes. Heeseung other arm had wrapped around her to hold in place on top of his chest. It was a quick moment and both in shock at the other action and closeness. They stayed like that for a minutes and all you could her where the crickets and there exhausted breath.

Arae cleared her throat and Heeseung release his hold on her. She quickly get off of him feeling the heat rise in her face. The color of her check had become a soft red as she thought about how close he was. Then she remembers she shouldn't feel like this, she shouldn't long for him. She knew her role in the court and he was not a part of that. He knew of the danger and the threats but in that moment she asked him something she longed for, " Do you think maybe one day I won't have to keep worrying about my safety? "

Heeseung could see the fear in her eye's that held her back. The thought did cross his mind, why did she have to hide who she was. He also knew being her personal guard that her vision were random and often happen with out any warning. That meant to him she would never be safe or free as long as she has her vision. But, he also knew if she didn't have them then the queen would not let her live.

"It's my job to worry about your safety and I promise you that you will not have carry that burden alone." Both still on sitting near each other looking directly into each other soul. She looked at him trying to read his thoughts, " I just don't want to just be the weapon of the kingdom anymore. I want to be free from this royal cage."

In the moment, of her telling me of her desire I made a promise to myself that I would free her. The entire time I was with her was like stolen moments and glance. I grew to care even when I tried to be distant she would be able to pull me back in with just a look. I gave the black vow all the information I could gather but after a while I stopped because I realize that all I was doing was keeping her in that very cage. So that night I told her everything about the system, politics, the black vow, and she never judged me.

I thought that maybe she would start to distrust me but it never happened. It was just a silent understanding between us that we were both trapped under our roles and duties. That we never lived for ourselves either. It was never just danger from the enemy but within our own lives. We have always lived in the shadow of danger.

Heeseung face showed the sorrow of the situation. The longing that turned into something more of a mutual understanding of the other. "When did the danger become real? When did it mean that you might loose each other?"

The immortal's gaze looked directly at you then to the painting and he took a deep breath. He knew when but he knew that would lead to there inevitable end. He gritted his teeth, " It was around 2 years after when I first met her. There was an unspoken thing between us. We still use the signals but we developed more and she learned to fight back. The king had been sick for a while and the queen took away more freedoms given to her and made me tell her everything about every vision. After a while, Arae started to distance her self from me."

He contemplated that feeling the way he had turned into the black vow spy to the queens. " I obviously never gave her the information she wanted to hear. But the more the queen asked for me the more Arae trust went away. That when I noticed that there were murmurs about the king declining health and increasing tension outside the castle wall. I didn't know that was the beginning of our end. That when it became real. The night we finally gave into our desire and feeding our longing for each other."

It was just another quiet evening, where she would be in her room and I was outside her door. It had been some time since we even got to train. There was a growing divide between us, the more I tried to come closer she backed away. It was supposed to be another night of distance and I had decided we need to end this distant. I couldn't protect her if she was at arm length and we couldn't trust each other. So I walked in thinking she was gonna be painting another vision or sketching something. But she wasn't she was in her bedchambers. I walked in slowly only to fine her out on the terrace looking at the garden from above.

Heeseung slowly approached her carefully afraid she might disappear. He steps out to the terrace and see her have a distant look on her face. Her two different colored eye are not in sight but instead a milky white color, he knew she was experiencing a vision. Then her hetero-chromic eyes returned and she let's out a held breath. She didn't notice Heeseung in that moment she was more focused on the vision she just experience and was in a panicked state. She felt a hand run up and down her back and noticed it was the guard she grew accustomed to. In that moment, him being by her side brought her comfort and grounded her from the painful visions she witness.

But it wasn't long before she remembered the way the queen would now call on him and she pushed his hand away slowly, " I'm fine"

She would tell me she was fine but her eye said a different. She didn't let anyone in because I grew to learn that's what kept her safe all this time. She told me once that, if she cared for or about someone or something; the queen would always find a way to remove it from her life. But I knew her pulling away from me was hurt her more than cruelty she experienced. I knew cause I felt hurt more and more she pushed me away. It wasn't just the queen she worried for but the vision often brought more danger than guidance.

Heeseung look directly at her but she refused to look back " Your pulling away, where did your determination for your freedom go? I know it's not just the queen action that causing this."

She still did not look at him. She knew that she would fall for him all over again and tell him everything she long kept hidden. The burden of her life she long carried and did want anyone else involved with," I am doing what I need to do in order to survive and not risk lives"

" By blindly trusting your vision and the rumor mill" Heeseung spoke challenging her plan.

She finally turned to him, " By trying to prevent them from happening"

When she finally spoke to me, I could see the look in her eyes. There where silent tears forming and sorrowful expression I had never seen on her face. I knew… with one look at her face and eyes, she was carrying something that was breaking her. The vision had increase recently but she refused to share them with me or the queen. But I could see that it was consuming her and it broke her down overtime.

Arae tried to wipe away the tears from her face, but now she couldn't keep the images that came to her inside anymore. She turned away from looking at him. Her voice was barely a whisper but Heeseung could her the sorrow in words as she look down not making eye contact with him, "I saw the end of you… I saw that you where bleeding and beaten…"

She chocked on her tears and her breath came out uneven," I heard you telling me in your last breath the promise you made. You said that I could be free and that you would be by my side. But, you told me something whispered those words of undying loyalty. I kissed you and then I couldn't feel you heart beat anymore."

Heeseung first instinct was to bring her in a bear hug. She was surprised by his action instead she began to let's out all the emotions she had caged away. He didn't let her go as she balled her eyes out and punched his chest begging him to not become close to her. He didn't say a word, just held her as she cried and ground her by moving his hand in circle on her back.

Once she finally calmed down, Heeseung spoke to her in the only way he knew she would listen " My first battle, I was scared out of my mind. I knew that many of my friends had never got to make it home and that I would loose many more. I was scared I gonna loose my life."

Heeseung still held her and one of his hand made its way to the top of her head smooth out her hair. He leaned back slightly so he could see her eyes and continued. " I walked away from that battle with some scars but I thought that scared feeling would dissolve…it never did and I still feel it to this day"

He move his hand form the top of her head to under her chin and lifted up her chin so he could hold her tearful gaze," I learned that fear will always be there. But I don't let it guide me because if I did I would have never survive this long and never have met you"

She push him away slightly but, still held both his hands " I have let my fear control me my entire life I don't know how to let it go"

"Then be brave and chose your wants. Forget the visions and the politics inside this castle be yourself. What do want to do?" Heeseung pleaded with her.

I begged her that night to let go of her fears and give into her own happiness. I could tell from her eyes that it was like a war within her mind. But she did. She let it go and hold it to her self anymore.

Arae looked at Heeseung with a longing she had felt since she sparred with him all those month ago. Her gaze seemed to be trying to memorize every inch of his face and eventually landed on his lips. If she gave into her want without the worry of her vision and the fear of every action she took, the only person worth letting that go would be him.

Before he could properly think, she quickly placed a gentle peck on Heeseung lips. It was quick and short, she had never kissed anyone before so it didn't cross her mind that maybe there would be more than a simple peck. Heeseung was stunned at her sudden action and stood still for a moment. Arae became shy at actions and look at her feet though they were still holding the other hand. She felt him let go of her hand and she felt rejected in that moment before she felt his hand gently cupping her face. He tilted his head slightly and pulled her closer to him crashing his lips on to hers. He kisses her with all the passion and desire he had built up since he met the curious ward.

His kiss was slow, long, and filled with a satisfying warmth that filled both of them in that moment. Arae had wrapped her arms around his back. Heeseung kept his lips on hers as one of his hand moved from cupping her face to behind her neck. Arae knew from fairy tales that there need to be a passion but the book that had kept her sheltered couldn't prepare her for the feeling of his lips on hers. She knew she was lost in this feeling and holds her breath has with each movement of both of there lip turned more and more lustful. Heeseung couldn't help but smile into the kiss. It meant the world that she finally would let him give in and now he made a different vow.

They finally pull apart out of breath, leaning against the other's forehead. Heeseung couldn't help but laugh and Arae stroke the back of his hand that was cupping her face; lightly holding his wrist in the process. She knew that she could not get rid of this feeling or even distant her self from him anymore. It would break both of them. But she didn't care, her eye close as she is taken in his scent and feeling of him silently holding her.

Heeseung breathlessly vowed on his life to her in that moment, "No matter what comes, I will keep you alive. Not just as your guard…but as someone who cares"

Arae eyes open and looks at him directly and take the only jewelry that was just her off her finger. She held took the one hand still gently cupping her face and open his palm placing that ring in his hand. She close his hand around it and cover his fist with both her hands and vows to him, " No matter what my vision tells me. I will find a way to make sure we are both free."

Heeseung head was swimming into moments that they shared. The feeling of her lips on his and her hand drawing circle on his hand, her finger in his hair. Then the ring he never wore it on his finger but kept it on a necklace hidden.

It had been a while since he had it with him. He speaks again on the tragedy that be fell them, " If I had known that was exactly one week later that we would not only be at war with a different nation. But a rebellion within the kingdom. I wouldn't have just kissed her that night."

"What happened that she turned you into this?" It was the question that had started the conversation. Why a girl had made him immortal what happened to make these people immortal.

Heeseung was silent as he remembered the event that lead to his turning. It was then you could finally see his emotions plain as day no mask of distant. He held tears in his eye and did not dare to look at you. " Funny thing is she couldn't turn me. But if I never had met her then I wouldn't be immortal "

I had woken up that day in her bedchambers. Once we had given into our feeling I barely slept in the guardrooms, I couldn't leave her side. But that particular morning we got news from a servant, close to the queen inform us that the king was dead. In that moment we knew that it was only time before everything got worse.

Once the new of the kings passing reached the people, the rebellion launched its attack against the queen. We were in her room when it happened. The angry people attempts at invaded the castle and they where looking for any royalty that was under the queen. Some rebels had snuck into her room but I managed to deal with them before we tried to escape.

During the escape though, we were ambushed and Arae tried to fight back but in the end we were overwhelmed. The people that ambushed us where a part of the queen circle and in that circle was one of the close people I had found a friendship with used that against me. Gillian was never on the black vow side but on the side that ensured his continued survival. He knew of my feeling and hers as well and the queen used that knowledge against us. The people that had invaded where out number by the queen spy's and solider and soon retreated from the castle. They quickly new that the only threat to them was an invading nation. Under the queen orders they had separated us and I was locked in a dungeon. There was no light in that cell and most of the time I was tortured, starved, and beaten so I could spill all my knowledge. I don't exactly remember how long this lasted. Most of there session of interrogation were random and often I lost track of the time. But one random day they stopped coming, I knew something changed. The only thing that kept me sane was the feeling of that ring she gave me.

Heeseung who is half-alive was being dragged through the hall of the castle his head felt heavy on his neck and he couldn't walk they dragged by his arms. He had never been tortured or beaten this badly before. He could feel ever bruise and wound against the floor as they dragged him by his arms to the first room he had ever entered in the castle, the council room. In the moment of his arrival it lacked the same conversation he first saw here. It was empty save for Gillian, the queen, and the girl he swore to protect.

He lifted his head slightly to get a better look through his matted in blood hair. Arae couldn't help but try and go to him but Gillian grabbed her by her arm with such a force that cause brushes to form. The sudden action caused Arae to let's out a slight yelp this raise Heeseung attention. He use some of his conserve strength to try and get to her.

I tried to get to her but every time I stood up the guards that held my arms would push me back to the ground. I couldn't do anything but watch her and she tried to get to me and I had to watch her talk but I could not hear the conversations. I don't know how long they held me in that dungeon but it was clear some time had passed. Arae hair was longer than the last time I saw her. She looked tired and hollow, but I could barely hold my head up as my neck felt heavy and strained.

The queen witnessed the sight of the two and couldn't help but scoff "Young love how pathetic. As I told you Arae… I kept him safe and he is alive" She moved towards Arae and spoke in a teasing tone "Now you promised to tell me one of your visions"

Arae eye never left Heeseung broken and beaten form, she knew that this was the very vision she saw before. The one that had long held both there desire back. The next vision, she saw after that was something she had yet to tell anyone. She had begun to tell Heeseung of all the vision she experience before chaos happened. But, never got to tell him of her latest vision, " The castle will be lost in ruin and the fire will consume everything. "

I could hear the slight tremble in her voice and I knew this was the moment she saw. The one she feared the most. It was my end.

The queen stormed in front of Arae blocking her view of Heeseung. Gillian released Arae cause her to stumble a fall to her knee in front of the queen. "This is not the end of my empire. This vision is false. Tell the truth or he will not make past morning"

Gillian had moved to Heeseung side and grabbed him by his matted hair lifting his head up and holding a blade to his throat. Arae eyes went wide at the site, and she let out a loud cry for Gillian not to harm him. She frantically reach's out for the queen's ankles and pleads her case " I am telling the truth please do not harm."

When Gillian lifted my head I could see how tired her eyes where. The queen was dress in extravagant clothes that could have saved a village. In that moment I failed to notice that Gillian slipped something past my lips. My entire focus was directed at her. She was on her knee begging the very women who never cared for her. I couldn't do anything but sit there a witness every action and emotion.

The queen kicked Arae to get her off and turned to Gillian. "Gillian he is all yours"

When the queen faced my direction I could see a glimmer of happiness in her eye to see Arae at her feet and begging brought her joy. I couldn't really hear what she spoke but I could hear Arae screaming my name. Then I feel a sting sensation at my chest. I feel something spill out and my breathing beginning to haggard. Suddenly, she was in front me the girl that I knew I wouldn't see again. I could only hear her voice begging the guards to release their hold on me. They let go but I didn't have much strength to hold myself up. I felt myself drape my body on to Arae hold. She was whimpering and I could feel her teardrop on this my exposed shoulder.

Arae had managed to convince the queen to let her say goodbye. " Heeseung….Hee… I got you its gonna be okay. Heeseung…Its gonna be okay… your gonna be okay… Please stay with me…please"

Heeseung manage to crooked out something in his weakened and painful state,"R-ru-run a-a-away please…g-go an-and b-be f-fr-free."

I begged her to go run and so she didn't have to live out my end. But she refused, She had move my body to gently lay on my back as my head rests on her lap and I couldn't help but look at her face. I reach up to touch her face and I try to memorize every inch of her face. Her hand were cool against my feverish skin. In my final moments, I grabbed her hand and I squeeze it three times. It was the last signal we created and only used when we couldn't say it out loud. Then there is a bunch of shouts and they yank her away. I can hear the scream and chaos and the final thing I see in my mortal life is her crying and reaching out for me as they drag her away.

Heeseung had let it out the moment that had haunted him in his long immortal life. The last image of the women he cared for was one of her in tears. "It was until years later I knew what had happen in that moment. That I was kept me weak for months in that state and used as a tool to keep Arae in check. That over the month the queen was slowly losing the war against a distance nation and the battle had finally comeback to the castle."

" Well you died how did you come back?" You say leaning in your seat toward the immortal " I mean it seemed like you where stabbed in the chest and where left for dead. So how did you even turn?"

Heeseung finally looked at you with mournful look on his face. He need a second but he hadn't expected you to move on so quickly to the next question. But, he couldn't help but feel anger and rushing of all his mortal emotion boil to surface. "That coward of a man, Gillian had secret of his own and turn out he was an immortal that had recently turned and he wanted another solider under his control."

Heeseung anger toward that man was clear you could feel it. It was enough to make you feel anxious about your safety. Luckily Heeseung hadn't notice it, he was too focused on the moment he turned and all the intense emotion he felt in that moment. The next question you asked next words were chosen deliberately, " When you died and turned what was it like?"

Heeseung put down the wine-glass on the coffee table. He heard how fast you heart was beating and he took a long sigh trying to calm down his emotions. He promised Ni-ki that he would not bring harm to you.

Once he seemed to regain his composure, he told the truth of how he turned, "It happened moment before Gillian lifted my head. He had used the very knife that he stab me with to cut his arm and give me some of his blood. Also stabbed me with the same blade that he use to gather his blood to go through my chest. The way we turn is if you have immortal blood in your system when you die. Unlike what the media tell you our blood doesn't heal. Instead, its like medication that only activate after death."

He began to explain the process of feeling when turning," When I died, all I could feel was this nothingness. Then in the next moment I felt this rush of energy it was… like all the adrenaline coming back into my body. I wake back up in the same place I had just died to new sound and smell and feeling. I knew in the moment I was in the castle but there was no emotion connection for the first minute as I observe the destruction of the castle around me. Then in another second all the pain and emotion I felt as I was dying coming rushing to the surface to consume me whole. Finally, after that wave of pain and emotion all that left is this anger and desire to kill anything."

You could see he hated every part of the turning. That it was something he wish he was never given. Heeseung look at you directly this time and his eyes were fill with the emptiness and sadness, "Those first moment awake all I could think of was Arae safety but the castle around me was crumbling. I see fire outside and I rush through the castle. All around me there where dead bodies, sword, and lots and lots of blood."

You notice the gulp that Heeseung had taken like he was holding himself back in that moment. He continued on, "I couldn't stop the hunger for something I didn't know. In my daze and confusion I stumble across a living person a guard that I had met once that was bleeding out half conscious and delirious. But, this smell was signing to me something in me was singing lulling my hunger. I was hesitant and slowly approach the barley living person and I devoured him---drank him dry and licked up all the blood that pooling around him. It gave me enough strength to exit the crumbling castle. I was in this state of blood lust without thought and guidance for a decade before that man that turned me came back into my life. "

I knew the night I turned that the kingdom of Haesung was wiped of the face of the earth. I never knew what happened to the queen or Arae. I was too consumed in satisfy my own constant hunger to look for her. It was nine years of killing to survive. After those nine years, I was broken and so alone. I felt numb, I wanted to be able to feel something again so I decide I need to learn control and it work for a whole year. Then showed up one night offering me something I could not resist.

It was a cold night and I had isolated myself in this dense forest in a little house I made. I feared every part of me. I needed to control what I was. A part of me wished to be with Arae, to protect her again and the other part wanted to consume all of her blood. That night was the worst need for blood I felt, then towards the middle of the night I finally gave in and opened the door to look for something to drain. But instead in front of my house it was that bastard that gave me this fate. I could feel the rage build up in my body. So, since I was already giving into my hunger might as well given to the anger.

Heeseung lunged at the man he once knew, both hand reaching his opponents neck. But was quickly overpowered by the very man that killed him. Gillian had moved faster than Heeseung has anticipated. Catching Heeseung off guard Gillian grab him by the neck and shoved him to the snowy ground. Heeseung tried to scratch and claw his way out of Gillian grasp but he was not as strong.

Gillian smirked at Heeseung manic state," Didn't expect you to survive this long… Then again I severely underestimated your strategic mindset before"

Heeseung grunted and growled at the man, " I kill you, you crazy fucking psycho"

Gillian laughed at the new immortal, " You won't after you hear what I have to say… I can help you control your blood lust and I saved your life remember. Give me a little credit"

Heeseung still pinned anger still rising " You are the reason I am like this and unless you can tell me what happened to Arae and where I could find her. Then you are of no use to me."

Gillian still the same smirk on his face,"I know where the precious seer is but I can teach you how to not kill her the moment you see her again. I can teach to control the hunger and maybe show you that there are rules we immortals follow."

Gillian offered a deal that pulled me out of that rage and gave me hope for a better life. He would teach me how to control the blood lust and the rule's immortals all follow and in exchange he would take me to Arae. I took the deal with out question and spent about 5 year under his teaching. I wanting to kill him every second of it.

I didn't just learn how to control the feral side but I also learned that immortals have heighten emotion. So eventually I had learned my hunger was tide to my emotion. It tough but eventually I learned how to quell these heighten emotional states. It was 5 years of having to control every movement, feeling, and thought. It felt good but after a while I learned there was another obstacle. I started to develop these abilities and learning that all immortals often develop powers over time. It get stronger over time that it was one of thing immortal long for over there very long life

It wasn't sudden noise in my head. It was this quite dull noise in my head that grew louder and I thought this was my head playing with me at first that this was my hunger. The blood lust trying to win me over with it whispering in my head. But it wasn't it was the thoughts of every being in the same room as me. Don't worry, It took me a total of 50 years to master that ability and another to be able to use it passively to quiet everyone thought from my head. But before I could master that ability I heard Gillian thought one night. I had been sitting in a room painting one of the many sketches I could remember that Arae once drawn and I could hear his thought from over my shoulder.

His thought where mainly surface level. The usual quip and remarks at my longing for Arae. But then his thought went deeper. It lead me to the fate that had be fallen Arae.It was buried and he unknowingly brought it out. His secret thought the instantly broke our little arrangement 'It's a shame that the Arae won't can't see you so desperate, then again she just a lingering spirit watching over him now'. It took a second to intercept but another surface thought grace Gillian mind 'At least she went peacefully.' I knew with this information that she was gone.

Heeseung hearing Gillian thoughts shot up in an instant and quickly catching Gillian off guard. He had pinned his maker to the wall shouted into his face "You lied to me. You said that you could take me to her. If she is dead then you precious little deal is off"

Gillian stuttered out an apology and one of marvel of Heeseung growing powers. Heeseung had enough of his constant remarks and anger building up inside him.

Gillian was surprised at my actions, I didn't need to use my powers to know that. He worked hard to put up a facade of strength and power but he was just another coward. I learned all I needed from him so I granted him a mercy. I snapped his neck so fast his head nearly rolled off his body. I burned his hideout with him still inside but it never really satisfied my anger.

The idea the man in front you had killed someone over a mere thought that might not have been true shook you to the core. Immortals we're not a kind or forgiving race. You jot down a reminder to never piss off an Immortal.

Then with out a second thought you blurt out a curiosity that had been dancing on your tongue "So if you thought Arae was dead what kept you wanting to continue your immortality."

Heeseung smirk, " I have tried to end it… to stop being immortal. But turn out we are pretty hard to kill… So wandered and stumble across the others living in the manor. Took up some painting over the years, just so I would be able to remember my mortal life. I painted my memories of her some of the sketches she made. Those memories kept me going. I wanted history to remember her even as a random person something to make this long life worth something."

Heeseung focus returned to the painting of the women you now knew now was his Arae. Your gaze move from him to the painting and couldn't help but comment, "From the way you talk about her and paint her she seem like someone worth remembering for centuries."

Heeseung eyes never left the painting and he smile, "Yeah, she is… mesmerizing."

In that moment, Heeseung was not just an immortal that was stuck in his memories but another person that had lost the love of his life. The grief was palpable to you but it was clear that these memories of her was something he could never let go. Then before closing the interview you asked one last question, "Did you ever wonder how she died or if Gillian thoughts where true?"

Heeseung wasn't angry in that moment. He felt a slight weightlifting off his chest and that the conversation felt like friends catching up. Heeseung had been speaking honestly all those pent up emotions that where held in these memories and the guilt for his immortality that followed. He looked at you without the typical mask he put up for people he just meet. Instead of finding annoyance and indifference expression across his face, you found that a he gaze was in a relaxed and playful manner and he answered, "I have wondered but never for too long. If I get lost in that curiosity that rage would consume me. Gillian is a bastard and a trickster but not lair. Plus with these abilities you can't really lie in your thought."

Processing all the details and memories he gave it came to one conclusion in your head about his immortal life. It was a lonely one that was built loss and grief. Instead of processing he chose to live in those memories. He was just an immortal but a ghost that haunts him with his own memories.

"I think I got enough of your story… thank you for trusting me with it" You clicked the recorder off and began to pack up your stuff. In the back of your head you hear a whisper of Heeseung voice thanking you for letting him share those memories. Then before you exit the room there was this lingering feeling that you couldn't place but this underlying need to tell him something, "It wasn't your fault what happened to her. You did everything you could have done. Do not let your grief continue to cloud your happiness. She would have probably wants you to live and not become a ghost because of her."

Heeseung watched as you walk out with tape recorder in one hand and the other was the notes you had taken. He stayed in that spot until he couldn't hear your footstep. He stood up and made his way to a side table next to his unkempt bed. He opened a drawer and see the only thing from his mortal that found its way back to him. He never wore it the burden and emotion behind the simple necklace felt to consuming. It was a simple chain that held her ring and he finally found the courage to wear it again.

The grief didn't go away, he knew that, it was a part of him. But the thought that he had let Arae down for holding on it in instead of actually living was a worse feeling. He gain the courage to wear that necklace without fear and with love once for her once again.

🩶 Next: Chapter 2 —Jake: The Curse Beneath the Willow 🥀 🔗 Masterlist | 🕯️ Taglist open — send an ask 💌

eternally cursed taglist 💌 ... @deluluscenarios @nikis-sweetvenom @youngfqrever @jaeyunlovebot @lyks02 @minleeho @arialwee @delightfulchilddeer @wondash @jjongssaeng @ellesophiacassie @add-this-to-that @wondoras @glaciuswduo @yunieblushhh @onlymoon300 @haesmore @haesmore @sunoolver @calilovesdilfs @prkjihoonx @loverbyfate @ezekiel-bublz @gyusfavlover @euphylli @hunnerwhite @kkkkvvvg @bunniexoh @diameuwu @chillibadness @tyongielee @mrloverboy3000

📢 Author’s Note: Thanks for stopping by! Hope you enjoy the story. Also this series will post every Saturday at 9:00pm. sorry for the delays but Jake and jay chapter will be Friday and Saturday this week

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stxrr-strxckk · 9 months ago

Note

Prompt: Astarion seeing the sunrise, or sunset, for the first time in 200 years?

This is such a cute prompt omg

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Astarion x reader- seeing the sunrise for the 1st time!

Any warnings?: Tooth rotting fluff and some implied sexual situations, nothing graphic tho!

Whats on the record player?: Heart to Heart; Mac Demarco, Let The Light In; Lana Del Ray.

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When you found out Astarion hadn't seen the sunrise since he'd been turned, you felt your heart break. You couldn't imagine having to deprive yourself of such a beautiful experience, and for 200 years no less.

"It's no matter, dear," he'd said upon seeing your saddened expression. "I never enjoyed the sunset anyways." This, of course, was a bold faced lie. While Astarion didn't have many memories of his mortal life, the warmth of basking in the sunrise was one he wanted to cling to desperately. The only thing he would ever want more than to see the sunrise again, was to see it with you.

You knew Astarion well enough to be able to tell when he was lying, so of course you decide to start planning your little surprise right then, unbeknownst to the vampire.

When you can't seem to sleep that night, though Astarion just chalks it up to adrenaline from a fight earlier that day. He slings an arm around your waist, holding you close for the night and burying his head in the crook of your neck. Wriggling out of his tight grasp proves difficult hours later as you try to get everything prepared for your favorite elf.

So of course it's a surprise when he's shaken awake and it's still dark out. He thought it was an emergency at first; why else would you disturb his slumber? He's ready to spring into action, until he's looking up to see your gorgeous face just giddy with excitement. False alarm. He would've griped about the early awakening, but he'd hate to spoil your good mood so soon.

He follows obediently as you eagerly pull him through the woods, your fingers laced with his as you take him to this mystery destination through the darkened trees. (Be glad he has night vision to warn you of fallen branches or rocks in your way, even if you have it yourself you're just too focused on making Astarion's day to care about any injuries.)

As the trees finally clear, Astarion swears he can feel his dead heart beat again at the sight. A small clearing, with a picnic setup overlooking the cliffs. The sounds of the ocean only add to the atmosphere as he stares in disbelief.

"You did all this... For me?"

He tries to contain his joy but when he turns to see your face, scrunched up as you try to tell how he's feeling, Astarion can't help but grab you by the waist and spin you around.

You two tumble into the grass, laughing as your foreheads touch. He kisses your temple, softly as if you might break if he isn't gentle.

"No one's ever cared for me like this before, I-" he pauses, at a loss for words. "thank you."

You smile as he stands up, offering you a hand. You two lay on the picnic blanket you'd bought the day before from a small shop, watching as the sun slowly peeks above the horizon line and casts glittering rays across the sea.

You smile as you feel the warmth on your face, glancing over to Astarion to see if he's enjoying himself.

The sight is almost heavenly- his face, usually pale has a sort of warmth to it, a glow that you've never seen before. His curls brush his shoulders as he leans his head back, basking in the glory of morning. You've never seen him smile so wide before- so genuinely. You haven't seen him frown or heard him complain once since you've come up here.

"Darling," Astarion grabs your hands, bringing them up to his lips. His kisses them gently, looking up at you with such a soft expression you feel as though you would've swooned and fallen over if you weren't already sitting.

"This has been the most wonderful morning. And it was made even better because I got to share it with you, my love." he'd be blushing if he had any blood coursing through his veins. "We have a few more minutes, before the rest of our group wakes up. Would you... Like to stay here with me? Just for a little longer?" he almost feels bad asking, you have so much to do and such little time to do it. Why would you make time for him?-

You throw your arms around him, tackling him a hug as you nod your head yes. The group can do without you for a while longer, it's not the end of the world. Today was about Astarion. Nothing could take this moment away from you two.

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Bonus: "Where are those two?" Karlach groans tapping her foot. The group's been up for what seems like hours- yet you and Astarion are nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps they've gone to do some... Exploring." Shadowheart says simply. The rest of the group seems to pick up on the inneundo.

"You mean the exploring of each other's bodies?" Gale snorts.

"Yes, that was implied." Shadowheart replies curtly. She didn't have time for this, these two running around like teenagers. Gale's crude remark was only adding to her annoyance.

"Sorry we're late everyone," Astarion announces.

"Finally..." Lae'zel mutters.

"Enjoy your beauty sleep, Astarion?" Gale taunts with a cheeky grin. "Or did you even sleep at all? Seems you and your little friend have some explaining to do." he gestures at the fresh bite marks on your neck, which you cover with your hand. You feel your face flush as Astarion brings his arm around your shoulders.

"Jealous, Gale?" he laughs. You wish you could teleport away; this is enough embarrassment for today. "I understand nobody looks your way but that's no reason you get mad at me for having a little... Fun~"

"Thats enough. We must make haste if we're to get any good work done today." Shadowheart interrupts. You slip out of Astarions grasp while he's distracted. You love the man but gods can he be a bit much.

"Yeah, what she said!" Karlach yells cheerfully. The party seems to move on after that, as everyone slowly leaves camp. You trail back, laughing as you see Astarion cast you an annoyed look of having to walk next to Gale.

"So," Karlach slows her pace to walk next to you. "How's the vampire in bed?"

You should've seen this coming.

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a/n: aaaah this is so cute!!! Lmk what you think and PLEASE send more Astarion requests!!! Probably gonna do some modern au stuff with him, love the idea of him trying to figure out how to use a phone for the 1st time. XX, Starr!

Wordcount: 1148

#baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x female tav

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gingerbreadmonsters · 3 months ago

Text

oyster eater

or: ask, and you shall receive.

gn!reader, brief and casual descriptions of blood, injury, and corpses, but really it’s just ooey-gooey vampire family fluff. there was a star danced, and under that was i born. inspired by there’s nothing too good for my baby (alt version here). william eating more than just his words in 9200 words or less.

the record alexis is listening to is the supremes a’ go-go, which came out in august 1966 and was the first album by an all-female group to reach number one on the american billboard 200. hm, i wonder who might have been around back then to buy a first pressing of that album…? vincent, on the other hand, is listening to danger days: the true lives of the fabulous killjoys, because he’s a diehard pop-punk truther and we all know it.

if you’ve read glass jaw then you know the drill, but if not: longtime readers may be aware of my sinophone!solaires hc, so ENGLISH SPEAKING READERS – please have a look at this pronunciation guide i made! it’s not too long, and i PROMISE it’ll help <3

It’s Wednesday, which means the Solaire house is busy, as usual.

The housekeepers have been in since early this morning, which woke all three of them up – he could swear he’d barely fallen asleep before the intercom started to buzz, quiet to a human but painfully loud to vampire ears. Blearily, he’d reached for the control pad on the bedside table that opens the driveway gate, clumsily pushing his long hair out of his face and dragging himself out of bed to get dressed so he could go and let them in.

It’s not worth letting them use the keypad lock. He’s tried before, but it just makes him paranoid, if he’s honest – something doesn’t feel quite right about allowing other people to come into the house whenever they like. Who knows what they might get up to, or who they might tell the code to? Better to just wake up early, and deal with the inconvenience later.

He’s not entirely convinced he’d had all the buttons of his shirt in the right buttonholes, but by the time they’d driven up to the house, he’d just had enough time to run a hand through his hair and throw his housecoat on over his shirt and trousers before opening the door. Nobody seemed to notice, so no harm done, hopefully.

The children hadn’t come down for breakfast straight away, but they’d definitely been awake. He’d heard Vincent groaning into his pillow at the sound of the doorbell, and he’d felt the phantom sting of Alexis falling out of bed all down his left side when the vacuum cleaner suddenly came on in the study. Even though their bedrooms are upstairs on the other side of the house, he’d still been able to hear the pair of them fussing about how cold it was, so he’d adjusted the temperature up a few degrees from the thermostat in the kitchen.

Ordinarily, he’d feel a little bad about waking them up – housekeeping normally comes just after noon, so it doesn’t interfere as much with the nocturnal hours – but he did tell both of them yesterday that the maid would be coming early today, so it’s hardly his fault they didn’t go to bed early enough.

Yawning, he adjusts the heat on the hob and reaches into the cabinet for some bowls. It’ll still be a little while before he needs them, but he’ll get them out now so they’re ready.

Actually, he may as well just set the table now. He keeps the bowls by the hob, but lays out the placemats and spoons on the kitchen island, along with some coasters to keep the surface clean. The kettle starts to rattle on the stand, nearly boiled, so he takes the tea cups out of the cupboard and starts to make the tea – perhaps it’s just his age, but he can’t stand tea that’s too hot. If he makes it now, it should have cooled down enough by the time everything else is ready.

The blinds are closed against the weak winter’s sunlight outside, and it’s bright and warm here in the kitchen. The smell of jasmine is light and pleasant as he breathes in, mixing with the sweetness of the ginger he’s already chopped, and he closes his eyes as he leans against the counter.

The maids are cleaning in the living room next door, quietly enough that he can still hear Alexis and Vincent moving around upstairs. One of them must be brushing their teeth, if the sound is anything to go by, and there’s the soft sound of slippered feet walking back and forth across soft carpet. Someone in the walk-in wardrobe, perhaps?

Eventually, the soft ping! of the hob timer going off shakes him from his daydreaming, and he hurries over to check on the pan. It looks good, so he reaches over to get a spoon from one of the tablemats, and tastes a little just to make sure that the texture is right. Satisfied, he adds the ginger, the spring onions, the stock, and a little bit of salt.

Perhaps just one more taste, only to check – yes, that’s just right. Now, to fetch the decanters from the fridge…

“À table!”

He calls up to the children, knowing they won’t be long, and pulls open the fridge door. The tray is cold in his hands as he slides it off the shelf, carrying it over to the kitchen island and setting it down in the middle of the three table settings. His is on the short end, facing away from the door, while the other two are along the long edge to his right.

Ah, the tea must have cooled down by now. As he walks over to the counter to get the teapot, he can hear the soft slap of slippers on hardwood, slow footsteps coming down the stairs, and he smiles to himself as his son peeks sleepily around the doorframe.

“Good morning, xiaozhi.”

“Zao a,” Vincent mumbles, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand as he sits down at the kitchen island in his pyjamas. “Tired.”

“I can see,” William replies, and puts a cup of tea down in front of him. “Too tired even to hold the hairbrush, ah?”

He laughs as Vincent sticks his tongue out at him, dark hair sticking up in all sorts of strange directions, not even bothering to try and disguise his truly spectacular bedhead. “Eat, and you will feel better.”

Alexis comes around the corner just as Vincent picks up his spoon, bundled up in her fluffy yellow dressing gown, eyes narrowed against the bright lights overhead. She ignores Vincent entirely as he tries to trip her up with his foot when she walks past, instead choosing to unceremoniously walk straight into her father, pressing her face against his chest and immediately leaning all her weight on him.

“Lili, still asleep?”

She grumbles wordlessly into the lapel of his housecoat, letting him wrap one warm arm around her as his other hand holds his tea cup. The Maker’s bond between them thrums contentedly with her closeness, the two of them fitting perfectly together as they always do.

The tea is a good temperature now, hot but not painfully so, and he takes a sip before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “You should eat before it gets cold, mon ange.”

“Mmnh.”

Slowly, Alexis manages to tear herself away and goes over to sit next to Vincent, drooping over the bowl in front of her. He nudges her with his elbow, and without looking she knocks the side of her foot lightly against his ankle. William, watching them, brings his bowl over and sits down next to Vincent as Alexis picks up the decanter of O positive in the middle of the table, and pours a hearty splash of blood into her jook.

“Your appointment is at nine o’clock, yes?”

“Mm-hmm,” she replies through a yawn, stirring around and around until the pale cream colour of her breakfast has completely disappeared, dyed a vibrant, appetising crimson instead. “Said the silk’s from a different supplier, so it’s thicker than usual. Means they want an extra muslin fitting, and then it’ll be done by next week.”

William nods, and waits for her to put the decanter down before taking it himself. “When you finish, then we can go out.”

There’s a lot they’ve got to get through today, and all three of them are quite tired, so breakfast is a mostly silent affair. The soft click of the windows being opened in the study is faintly audible over the low drone of the vacuum cleaner out in the foyer, accompanied by the faint sound of a spray bottle. For the console table by the door, perhaps?

Although there’s nothing much happening this week, the calendar for next week is packed. He and Vincent have dinner at the House of Baz on Monday, then all day on Tuesday the children are up at SkySide to meet a prospective client while he finishes up the buyout on that new property in Florida. Alexis will be out in downtown Dahlia on Wednesday morning for brunch with the Aguilar ladies, then in the evening she’s meeting him at the Pham estate for an informal dinner while Vincent has drinks with some of his friends from the social club.

“Ba?”

On Thursday, it’s set to be a nightmare. A timezone mix-up by the new secretary means he has a call with the SPM office in Hong Kong scheduled for some ungodly hour on Thursday morning, then a shareholders’ meeting in town to discuss the merger that was supposed to happen before Christmas but he suspects is being pushed back to May, and then all three of them are meant to be flying out for the biannual charity fundraiser in McKinley.

…God in heaven, it’s going to mean that dreadful local wine they all seem to love. He’s never tasted anything so painfully sweet, and the worst part about it is that he can’t even discreetly refuse, because he’s fairly sure the hosts own the vineyards that make that awful stuff in the first place. Make no mistake, the houses out there are generally very pleasant to be around, but it really does make you wonder – can they really not afford to get anything good, or do they just ch—?

“Baba, do you…?”

“Hmm?” William startles, looking up to see that Vincent’s brought the pan over from the hob, offering him some more. “Oh, yes…”

He adds a splash of A positive to his breakfast while Vincent spoons some more jook into his sister’s bowl, and sips a little more tea as well. “Thank you, chéri.”

At the very least, the venue should be interesting enough. It’s apparently a new build up in the mountains, designed by some superstar new architect they’d shipped over from Switzerland or Sweden or whatever. Despite the acres of glass windows it’s undoubtedly got, the event starts in the early evening so nobody will have to worry about the sunlight – which would all be very lovely if the mountain setting didn’t mean that there’s also no airstrip. Instead, everyone’s having to fly into the closest airport, which is still several hours’ drive away in the middle of nowhere in Colorado.

Time will be tight, but they should make it in time. The hosts are sending a driver to collect them, so he doesn't need to sort it out himself, thank goodness. He and Alexis are leaving the next morning for a few days at the lake house in Maine, which will be a nice chance to relax. One of the young gentlemen from the house that’s hosting has a birthday on Saturday, so Vincent’s staying out there to ski with them for the long weekend before coming back to Dahlia on Monday afternoon.

Speaking of, he needs to make sure all of the suitcases are sorted and ready ahead of time for when they head to the airport on Thursday. The timing of this birthday excursion is a little inconvenient, seeing as it means they’re having to get all of Vincent’s skiwear out of storage now instead of in a few weeks’ time, when they’re going to Hokkaido together, but they’ve had worse itineraries before. Last year, he was falling over Alexis’ snowboard in the hall for what felt like months, after the trip to Switzerland had to be pushed back at the last minute.

In any case, the situation is the same. It’s going to be a hectic week ahead, which means an awful lot of work to be done now, before the deadline gets too close. He’s never liked cutting it fine if he can help it – preparation is the only proper way, after all. Intense preparation, perfect execution.

Today is for sorting out clothes, which shouldn’t be too bad if everything goes to plan. There’s meant to be a delivery from the milliner’s in about an hour, so that should arrive during Alexis’ dress fitting, and after that they’ll head into town. The children both have some shoes to collect, and then he and Vincent are going to the tailor’s to sort out a few last-minute things while Alexis has her nail appointment. He’s got that new suit jacket that just needs an extra dart or two, and there are a few buttons on Vincent’s waistcoat – the nice silk one from Malaysia that’s got all that lovely embroidery – that are starting to come loose.

After that… oh, what was it they needed to do? Ah, yes – Vincent said he’d ordered something for Alexis that they have to go and pick up. He’s not said what it is, so presumably it’s meant to be a surprise for her. Probably some new jewellery, if the address he said yesterday has anything to do with it, but knowing Vincent, it really could be anything. A new tennis bracelet, perhaps? The clasp on her favourite one needed repairing, so she’s been wearing one of her charm bracelets instead while it’s being fixed.

Once all that is sorted out, whatever it is, perhaps it will be time for lunch. They haven’t been back to the Rosewood for so long, and it would surely be nice to go and sit down in the tea room for a little while. Maybe it’s the fault of his old-fashioned sensibilities, but it really is one of the best places you can go for tea in Dahlia.

The service is very pleasant and prompt, the pianist is excellent, and everything is always so delicious – oh, the scones with the lemon curd are particularly good. Bitter things do taste so lovely with blood.

He sighs, faintly aware of Alexis and Vincent bickering about something or another. The selection is reasonable, but if only there was a little more variety. The establishments in Dahlia that keep blood are fairly numerous, considering its cornerstone status, but he does miss Paris. Not Paris now – he’s there far too often to have the chance to miss it, really – but Paris back then, in the days before he’d ever even thought of travelling to America.

The blood clubs they used to have around the turn of the last century – no, perhaps it was the century before…? Yes, yes, it must have been. He can still remember the smell of the gas lamps they used to use in the days before electrics, the tiny basements they used to be packed into like sardines in a tin. You never left without a headache, they used to say, for one reason or another. His throat dry from laughing, his tongue sweet from the wine, stumbling out onto the cobblestones in the hours just before daybreak.

Ah, they were always so much fun. What a thrill! There’s nothing quite like that now.

They’ll certainly go for lunch, he decides. At the very least, it will be good to get out of the sun, weak as it may be at this time of year. It’s not ideal that they’re having to go out in the middle of the day, but at least it’s not as bad as it will be in summer – when it’s cold, all the layers and layers of clothes and hats and scarves they have to wear don’t look as unusual. Granted, the car windows are all tinted, and all the places they’ll be going to are very used to their sort of clientele, but it is nice to blend in a little.

They must enjoy it while they can, after all. The summer is so dreadfully hot and bright here in California, somehow more torturous with every passing year. Palm leaves riffling in the midday breeze, soft cotton clouds drifting gently past. How it wears on you, how exhausting it is in the heat, sneaking fearful glances up at the blue sky and worrying always about the blistering terror of the sun.

“Gloves, today.”

The two of them nod, still half-heartedly kicking each other under the table in a way that would surely break any human’s ankle, and Alexis scoops up one last mouthful of blood from her bowl.

“I thought it was meant to be cloudy.”

“Lace will do.” William shrugs, eyes closing momentarily as he dips his head slightly to the side. “Cloudy, yes, but bright as well.”

He sighs, satisfied, and pushes his chair back to stand up. “You should get ready for your fitting, mm? They will be here soon, I think.”

The housekeepers can sort out the dishes – it’s far too early to be worrying about all that. Vincent takes a final gulp of tea before abruptly getting up out of his chair, and Alexis nearly knocks the empty jook pan off the table with one fluffy sleeve as she accidentally smacks face-first into his back.

“Hey!”

Vincent hisses when she pokes him in the side in retaliation, his thin pyjama shirt no defence against her sharp nails, but settles for just narrowing his eyes at her. “Jiejie!”

She just rolls her eyes as he fights to get his slippers back on, having kicked them off next to his chair while he was sitting down, and breezes straight past him towards the door. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for breakfast, ba.”

Honestly, the pair of them. He smiles as Alexis kisses him on the cheek as she passes, before disappearing around the corner and upstairs in a flurry of soft yellow cotton. “You’re welcome, chérie.”

“Thanks, ba.” Not to be outdone, a newly-slippered Vincent shuffles over to kiss him as well, wrapping his arms around his father’s waist and settling into his embrace. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” William replies, words muffled slightly by Vincent’s bedhead but no less heartfelt. “I love you very much, xiaozhi.”

He says it a lot, truth be told, and it’s such a comfort to be able to say – it wasn’t always an easy thing for Vincent to hear, much less accept. Alexis was the same, when their family was still so very new, but he thinks it’s got more to do with the state of Vincent’s human life than anything else. It wasn’t easy to come to terms with his death, the knowledge that his human family would never know what had happened to him, that they were still alive, but unreachable.

At least for Alexis, she always knew that there was nothing she could have done – she would have bled out on the floor, alone, and nobody would ever have known. He would never have admitted it, but Vincent was the same. It wouldn’t have mattered. Even if he’d been found alive, William had seen enough of the dead and dying to know immediately that he wouldn’t have survived for long.

It’s almost funny to think about, now, considering what’s become of him. Who would have thought that the boy who fought so fiercely to hold onto his human life would have found such happiness in his undeath?

He always thinks of that gala, the dinner at the Giuffrida estate in Sicily. It must have been ten years ago, or maybe fifteen? He’d not really been paying attention, engrossed in discussion with one of the Lombardy cousins that he hadn’t seen for decades, when a sudden spike of sickening terror flared in his chest, cold blood running even colder as his head whipped around to where he instinctively knew his progeny was in danger.

Lijie—!

The horrible thud of Alexis’ head hitting the floor, the stem of her wine glass crunching in her involuntary grip as she fell. Vincent, sprawled across the marble floor at the end of the bannister, champagne shattered on the floor where he’d been standing a half-second before. Clutching his sister to his chest as she lay limply in his arms, stunned – William had shivered at the howling torrent of protective rage that seared through their Maker’s bond as Vincent’s eyes found the pathetic, trembling shape of the man who had dared to trip his lady sister down the stairs.

A moment of madness, the stupid animal had stammered, nothing more than – than an accident, just a mistake, sir, I swear! My – my deepest apologies, sir, forgive me, forgive m—!

He hadn’t even lived to hit the floor. The room seemed to sway with the telltale vertigo of telekinesis as Vincent reached out a furious hand to drag the man down towards him, and like a flash of lightning in his fingers the stiletto knife hidden by his ankle had already cut the man’s head from his body, and was buried to the hilt in the sticky mess that used to be his heart.

Cored, like an apple. Vampiric blood, thick and bitter, leaking onto the tile.

Lexi – Lexi, jiejie, I…

William had excused himself from the conversation, quickly scooping up his daughter and ushering her and Vincent into one of the quieter adjoining rooms before anyone could say anything. Alexis had been fine, more surprised than anything as the tender bruise on the side of her head quickly healed over, but the two of them had been inseparable for the rest of the night.

And just like that, it was a fact – a rule, something that everyone knew. Perhaps it hadn’t been clear, but now nobody could possibly doubt it. The Solaires have always had a unique talent for retribution, and Vincent Solaire would do anything for his sister.

Footsteps on the hardwood. They stay there for a little while, eyes closed, until the housekeepers come in to start cleaning up. “Come on, chéri. Time to get ready.”

Vincent huffs, opening his mouth to say something, but—

Bzzzz!

“I’ve got it!”

The intercom goes off, and a fully-dressed Alexis comes racing downstairs to the control panel, pressing the button to open the gate with one hand while the other taps rapidly at her phone. “God, I thought they were coming later…”

Briefly, her eyes flick over to where her father and brother are still standing in the kitchen doorway, before going back down to her phone. “Didi, they’re not here for a pyjama party.”

She starts walking towards the door as the sound of a car coming up the drive gets louder, and Vincent scrambles towards the stairs before she can open it. “I’m going, I’m going!”

Laughing to himself, William goes to follow him, already thinking about what he’s going to wear today. “Don’t have too much fun, xiaoli.”

“Whatever.” She opens the door, and he feels the smile spread across her face more than he sees it. “No promises.”

It doesn’t take long for him to get dressed, all things considered. They’ll be going out for lunch, so he ought not to look too haphazard, but there’s no sense in overdoing it – no need for all the fuss of a frock coat when a morning coat will do perfectly well. His shirt is cream, not white, and his tie is a relaxed, dusky shade of pink to contrast his sky blue, paisley pocket square.

He’s just taking his waistcoat off the hanger when Vincent pops his head around the doorframe, unbuttoned jeans hanging off his waist as he fiddles with the earring in his right ear.

“Ba, are we doing anything this evening?”

William shakes his head, trying not to look too suspicious. “Not that I know of.”

“Cool.” Just like that, he’s fishing his phone out his pocket, tapping away at the screen and swearing under his breath when his earring falls out again. “Gav wants to go to some club he found in Central.”

Oh, Gavin. He’s so glad Vincent met that boy. They do get on so well, and even Alexis – well, Alexis hasn’t killed him yet, which is promising. “As long as you’re back for lunch tomorrow.”

“Can he come?” Vincent asks, scarlet eyes bright with excitement. “He’ll bring his partner too, probably!”

“His partner?” William pretends to think about it for a second, before he nods with far too much solemnity for the situation. “Well, why didn’t you start with that? Of course.”

Call it what you will, but he does adore Gavin’s little partner, the Freelancer who has the apartment downtown near that bar Porter likes. He remembers the rabbit-fast rhythm of their heart the first time they met, looking nervously around the foyer of the Solaire house like they’d accidentally wandered into a lion enclosure, almost jumping out of their skin when Vincent appeared behind them and held out a hand to take their coat. That must have been, what, two or three years ago?

Thankfully, they’re not nearly so skittish now. They’re hilarious, once you get them going, and remarkably insightful for someone who only found out about empowered life such a short time ago. They might as well be family, to be perfectly honest – there’s always a dinner invitation in the post for them, and Alexis almost tore Vincent’s arm off when he accidentally spilt coffee on their jacket, like she was their sister and not his.

Vincent grins, and scoops up his stray earring from the carpet as he wanders back down the hallway. “Merci!”

Ah, young love. Or whatever it is that those three have going on.

He really ought to go down and see how Alexis is doing, so he fetches his gloves from the drawer – dark kid leather, today – and drapes his waistcoat over one arm to take downstairs. He’ll just put it on in a minute. Briefly, he considers a hat, but he really can’t be bothered today, so he picks up the fa zan that’s still on his desk from a few days ago on the way past. It’s gold, with a little bit of jade for decoration, so it should go well enough with the rest of his clothes.

As he goes downstairs, he leaves his gloves on the side table in the foyer, but keeps his waistcoat with him. Decades ago, he would have been horrified at the impropriety, the idea of leaving his room without it to keep his trouser braces covered, but recently he’s stopped caring so much. Besides, it’s not like Alexis hasn’t seen him in them before, and he couldn’t give a damn what any of her tailors think of him when he’s the one who pays their wages.

There’s music coming from the living room, and the low sound of the record player spinning. He can’t quite put his finger on what the song is, but it’s frustratingly familiar. One of Alexis’ old records, maybe? It certainly sounds like it.

“Chérie?”

William knocks softly against the doorframe, and smiles as his daughter’s face lights up when she sees him. “May I come in?”

Alexis nods, arms out to her sides as one of the seamstresses neatly pins and re-pins the two raw edges of muslin closed, all the way down the side of her ribs, while another adjusts the measuring tape around her thigh.

“Can you just, uh…”

She waves vaguely at the mantelpiece over the fireplace to his left – he sighs, shaking his head fondly even as he goes to pick it up for her. It’s half-empty, cherry-scented lip gloss stamped sticky around the rim. “Magic would be too much, I assume.”

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles into the offered glass of wine, “easier to do it normally.”

“Yes, for me to do it.”

“Yeah.” She grins, a little arrogant and ever so charming, and thoroughly ignores it when he rolls his eyes. The woman kneeling in front of her ducks out of the way so she can lean forward, as much as the half-constructed dress she’s being sewn into will allow, depositing the glass back into his outstretched hand.

��How much longer?”

“Not much. I already chose the pankou, so it’s just the rest of the measuring and then that’s it.”

He hums in acknowledgement, sitting down on the sofa opposite her to put the glass down on the coffee table. There’s a display box already there, so he leans over to inspect the selection of pankou the seamstresses have brought – there’s a particularly lovely set shaped like plum blossoms, along with an utterly adorable set of white rabbit-shaped pankou that he’s very tempted to have added to one of Alexis’ summer dresses.

One set is separated from the rest in a small plastic case, and he picks it up to examine the design. The knots are neat and clean, stiff silk ribbon folded into elegant golden sunrises, classic but not tacky. Yes, these should go well with the fabric she’s chosen. It’s not here today, but he saw the box of samples she’d been choosing from last week – if he remembers rightly, she’d picked a lovely blue silk, all light and airy. There had been a book of embroidery patterns as well, and she’d immediately taken to one of the more complicated designs, full of delicate orchids and butterflies.

Just thinking about it reminds him – didn’t she have another dress with orchids on, not that long ago? Or perhaps it was wisteria… yes, that might have been it. Some sort of purple flowers or other, to match her purple birthday cake. It was really quite a sight, tier after tier covered with so many edible flowers that it had been hard to find space for all the candles. Fifty on the top for all the years since her Turning, and the rest scattered across the other tiers wherever there was space.

She’d been so pleased with it when it arrived, insisting that everyone at the party ought to have a slice, only for Porter to conveniently disappear out onto the balcony for a smoke a few seconds later. Goodness, he wishes he’d had a camera with him – he remembers the panicked look on Porter’s face when she’d descended on him with a plate stacked high with desserts, swiftly crushing his cigarette in her fingers and all but forcing a forkful of lilac-coloured frosting in his mouth before he could escape.

Oh, how the time flies. If he concentrates, he can almost hear the sound of the champagne fizzing in his glass that night, almost smell the drifting smoke of blown-out birthday candles. All those years, decades and decades now, swallowed up fast and slow at the same time. Fifty years. Has it really been that long? It only feels like yesterday when she was young – she and Vincent, both.

…Well. Young, he says, as if that means anything at all. Everyone's young compared to him. An entire desert in an hourglass, the slow perfection of a snowglobe. Suspended in amber, pickled in formaldehyde. A statue gathering dust.

His children are everything to him. That's just the way it is. They're his whole world, the most important creatures to ever walk this earth – and of course they are, they're his family. William Solaire will never be alone again. A father, he's a father, and it's the most splendid and wonderful thing that ever was or will be. There is no House of Solaire without its son and daughter.

Big eyes in a little face. That doesn’t mean it’s not painful.

Because it’s not real, is it? It was never real, it could never have been real. Mine, they’re mine, he thinks – but born to what mother? William Solaire has no wife. They’ve always been mine, he insists – but wearing whose face? The only features he gave them were the fangs.

He never knew his children as children. He didn’t name them. He didn’t raise them. They were already fully-formed when he found them, already grown up without him.

A dying woman on a filthy floor, shallow breaths like mist in the freezing night, crawling away from the sticky mess of organs that had once been her attacker. One hand clutching the ruins of her neck, thick blood pouring sluggishly over her fingers and down her chest as she tried in vain to hold her throat together tight enough to breathe. A dying man, struggling weakly against the seatbelt that kept him pinned to the chair, dark blue bruises painted over crushed ribs and a collapsed lung. The last one still alive, souvenir sunglasses dangling from his collar, still clutching the wrist of the splintered corpse hanging limply next to him.

It’s just a fact. Blood relatives. A night without clouds, the great eye of the moon peering down from the sky.

But how else can he explain it? How else could he know? It doesn’t make sense. William Solaire closes his eyes and sees it all, sees a whole life a thousand times over, unfolding forwards and backwards and over itself like a great kaleidoscope. Crystal shapes and endless colours crashing over him, vast and grand and gorgeous – the lead-lined window of a cathedral raining down in a million slivers of stained glass, glittering in the creases of his skin and catching in his hair.

He sees his little girl, no more than knee-high as she toddles past him through the living room, tiny fingers curled around the soft stuffed bunny she refuses to put down. He sees the colourful flower clips in her short hair, the miniature ruffles around the tops of her miniature socks. The blanket she likes to lay on is spread out in front of the armchair where he sits, an island of blue and green squares atop the cream-coloured carpet, and the books he likes to read to her are already next to him on the coffee table.

Sugar and spice, the cinnamon swirl that runs right through her like sweet rock. She’s oh so lovely, so small and soft and giggly – honey Alexis, perfect in miniature. Darling creature, the tiny angel that fell to earth and landed in his lap.

Remembering is so easy. The precious weight of his little girl in his arms, only ever a daydream away.

It’s not just her, either. Suncream smeared across a tiny little face, white streaks smeared into black hair by messy little fingers. He remembers the garden as it used to be, the scarlet shade of the acer tree by the patio, the smell of honeysuckle thick in his throat the day they took the stabilisers off and Vincent rode his bike across the grass for the very first time. The blue plastic plate he insisted on eating from for every meal, the pair of yellow velcro sandals that always used to fall off no matter how tightly you did them up. His gorgeous boy, his only boy. Vincent and his megawatt smile, blindingly bright and instantly adorable, the treasure of his bleeding heart.

It must have been real. It must have been. Alexis, rucksack in hand, surreptitiously rolling up the waistband of her uniform skirt in the hallway before she leaves for school. Vincent, almost unrecognisable under a thick layer of face paint, gleefully holding up a plastic pumpkin full of sweets. Birthdays and Christmases and summer holidays, trips to the cinema and splash fights in the bath.

They’re his children. He’s their father. Nothing else could ever make sense.

And no matter what anyone says, hasn’t he taught them well? The Solaire siblings are the golden darlings of society, charming and clever and ever so beautiful. They’re well-travelled, they’re eloquent, they’re good with money. There’s a sort of gravity in the way they move, an easy charisma that’s impossible to resist. Funny, but never foolish. Kind, but never naïve.

Every single day, he’s nothing but proud of them – the way they talk, the way they dress, the way they dance. It’s like helium, filling him up and up and up until he thinks he might burst, lightheaded and fizzing and terribly dizzy. If it were up to him, he would do nothing but adore them, not a single other thing than kiss them and kiss them and kiss them for forever, until his unbreathing lungs ran out of breath and his unblinking eyes tired to look upon them.

MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD. It was an impossible choice, but it wasn’t a coincidence. The kidnapped woman and the stolen man, his children that are hostages that are corpses. It’s too much, he feels too much. Can’t swallow it down, can’t make it go away, coughing and spluttering around the sugar-coated shape of my darlings, my darlings, come here and never leave me.

Stuck in his throat, choking him. It’s painful, the stomachache of a sour death and a spoilt future. His eyes water, tears curdled like milk, but he doesn’t notice – because the cloying smell of sweet decay turns into something rich and vibrant, something filling and tempting and irresistibly moreish.

Four hundred years is a long time to starve. He can’t help it, he can’t help it, he’s so hungry. A weak and starving creature, clawing at its own flesh for something to eat, turned inside-out with loneliness. My children. His teeth tearing through a stranger’s neck, hot muscle and cold skin, baked Alaska brain freeze. Blood on blood on blood, cheesecake on mille-feuille on tiramisu.

And that’s just what the problem is, isn’t it? William Solaire is a dead man, a handful of dust in an unmarked grave, gorging himself on good things. It feels good to eat, so he fills his stomach with formaldehyde – it feels good to breathe, so he reaches up through the earth for some fresh air. Hedonism, it turns out, is a beautiful thing. It feels good to be rich and it feels good to be powerful and it feels good to never ever be alone again.

Yes, the sugary sharpness of afterlife everlasting. Pastry flakes all down his shirt, buttery and golden, a sticky smear of strawberry jam all down his sleeve. Ice cream and banana slices, jelly and sprinkles and chocolate sauce, stacked up in a tall parfait glass with a wafer on top. There’s sherbet powder all over his fingers, vanilla custard dripping down his chin. A candyfloss boy and a crème brûlée girl, with red velvet eyes and crêpes suzette smiles, and the caramel sticks his sharp teeth together.

He can’t love them in a way that’s human. Die now, or live forever. Toffee apple sweet and lemon curd bitter, sugar and chocolate and sweet, sweet cream.

“Does this look alright?”

A muslin-clad Alexis twists from side to side, dressmaking pins catching the light as stray threads of cotton float silently to the carpet, laser-focused on her reflection in the standing mirror to her left. All William can think is that she is the most beautiful princess that there has ever been or will be.

What he actually says is a little less complimentary.

“...Hm.”

“Baba!” she huffs, shifting slightly from foot to foot. “Is it okay or not?”

“You would look beautiful in anything, mon ange,” he laughs, left hand absentmindedly fixing the folds in his shirt where it’s tucked awkwardly under his braces. “But is it comfortable? Can you walk in it?”

Obediently, she goes for a lap around the living room, walking on her tiptoes to imitate the high heels she’ll be wearing. As she walks, each step in time with the music playing softly in the background, he suddenly remembers what the record is called – of course! This is one of her really old ones, isn’t it? From before she was Turned, even.

None of his possessions from his human life had survived. Standing over her twitching, gasping body, flushed with the heat of her blood and dizzy with the rush of the Maker’s bond sewing their minds together, he’d known even then that he didn’t want the same thing to happen to his new daughter.

For obvious reasons, she hadn’t been able to go and pick her things up from wherever she’d been living, so as soon as she’d woken up he’d had to ask her for the address. Luckily, she hadn’t been declared missing yet, and he hadn’t let the Department know that they needed to fake her death, so it had been fairly easy to sneak in the next night. Her apartment had been in a mostly-unempowered part of town, and there were no surveillance cameras or electronic locks in those days. Just a window, a key, and as many of her belongings as he could take before the sun rose.

He’d have gone back to get it all, if he had the chance, but it was difficult to tell what was hers and what wasn’t. If only her roommate hadn’t been such a light sleeper…

Mm, he’d almost forgotten about that girl. What was her name again? She’d heard the window opening and called out for Alexis, loudly enough that the next-door neighbours had surely heard her through the wall. William had frozen, only halfway through the window frame, and she must have seen his shadow on the hallway floor – Christ, the sound of her scream had been so terribly, painfully shrill. As fast as he could, he’d scrambled into the apartment and forced open her bedroom door, grasping her face in his hand and staring into her terrified eyes so that he could Trance her.

He’d made her go back to bed and forget that she’d seen or heard anything, but it was too late to do anything about the neighbours, who he could hear whispering nervously to each other through the wall. The risk of breaking covert was just getting higher and higher, so he’d cut his losses – quickly, he’d packed up as much of Alexis’ room as he could, and swept through the apartment for anything that looked like it belonged to her. It hadn’t been easy to get it all out through the window, but he’d been gone before the knocking at the door started.

Never mind. Once she was declared missing, the police seized some of what was left, and it was no trouble at all to steal those out of the evidence packets. And once she was declared dead, her human family came to collect the rest. They’d even put it all into boxes so it was easy to carry.

Alexis had been so happy when he’d come back home with all her missing things, eagerly rifling through the boxes like a child on Christmas morning. So happy, in fact, that she hadn’t even noticed the Invocation setting in.

It wasn’t much. Just enough to take the edge off. Enough to make it a little less painful, enough for her to not miss them quite so deeply. The face of her roommate would fade into a gentle blur, the memories of her family and her friends and her whole human life would settle into soft focus. She’d remember her best friend’s name, but not quite recall her voice – she’d know her mother’s birthday, but not how she liked her coffee. She’d remember the colour of her boyfriend’s car, but not his last name, not the dress he’d bought her for her birthday, not the bouquet of flowers that were still sitting on her bedside table, not the date she was supposed to go on the day after she died.

…Well, perhaps he’d got a little overenthusiastic when it came to the boyfriend. Never mind. Not much to be done about it now.

“How does it feel, mm?”

Alexis nudges her calf with his foot as she walks past. “Seems like it fits.”

“Good.”

He nods contentedly, idly shrugging on his waistcoat as she totters over to collect her glass from the coffee table, gulping down the rest of her wine. It’s lucky that human alcohol can’t get them drunk, else he’d surely need to have words with her—

“Do you remember Sylvain?”

William pauses, unblinking. Alexis stares at her empty glass.

“...Sylvain?”

“The Amaranthe boy.”

A fleeting image in his head, the trembling tingle of their Maker’s bond. A young man dressed in silk, blonde hair pulled back and tied with a ribbon. Low wooden heels clicking on the terrace of a forgotten house, an almost-unnoticeable tear in the cuff of his jacket. A cousin of a nephew of a sister-in-law, or some vague impression like that.

All the blasted Amaranthes look the same. William shakes his head. “No. I don’t.”

“He gave me this bottle as a gift,” Alexis muses, tipping her hand from side to side to watch a single, lonely drop of wine slide around the bottom of the glass. “Said I should save it for a special occasion.”

She smiles faintly, and William can taste the memory on his tongue. Perhaps you and I could share it sometime, Princess Solaire.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at the empty bottle on the mantelpiece. “How cruel of you, xiaoli. He’ll be disappointed.”

“No,” she says evenly. “He won’t.”

Footsteps from behind, feigned casualness. Your boyfriend has terrible manners.

Does he?

Mm-hmm. The beginnings of a headache starting to form, hairpins digging in too tightly. Thought you’d be the type to train them better, really.

This one’s different.

How so?

Well, considering he doesn’t exist, it makes it pretty difficult.

Doesn’t exist… Red eyes narrowing, then a shrug that comes too easily. My mistake, then. I’ll have him boxed up for you to take home.

You’re too kind. William can feel Alexis getting more and more suspicious, her recollection coloured with mistrust. Give him to my brother, then, if you see him. His car has a little more room than mine.

Your…. A sudden silence. Your brother?

“Was this the first one Vincent was there for, then?” he asks, as the seamstresses start to help Alexis out of the muslin dress.

She nods. “Yeah.”

He winces, the impression of bright lights in the corner of his eye, the shadow of Alexis’ hand gesturing to one side. He’s in there somewhere. Haven’t you met him, yet?

A pause. Cold blood turning to ice.

That depends.

On what?

An infuriating smirk, and a pulse of fearful rage that makes William’s hand twitch with Alexis’ urge to slap the Amaranthe boy right across his ridiculous face. You never struck me as the sisterly type.

You wouldn’t want me to strike you, I’m sure.

Funny. I said the same thing to your brother, but he doesn’t listen as well as you.

He feels Alexis opening her mouth, but the remembered voice interrupts before she can speak. You don’t have to lie, you know. If you want a guy around, there are easier ways than making daddy give you a little brother to look after.

William’s fangs drip with Alexis’ venom, laughter short and sharp and furious. You think I’m keeping him as a whore?

Not a very pretty one, spits the boy. He’s not good enough for you.

And you are?

Of course. I’m the only one who’s good enough, and you know it as well as I do.

He turns to leave, gold brocade glinting in the low light, and William feels his heart rate spike as Alexis sees red.

Lay your hand upon my brother and you lay your hand upon the House of Solaire, Alexis hisses, sharp tongue like the savage crack of a whip. Even you couldn’t be that stupid, could you?

And you wouldn’t be stupid enough to threaten me, would you? Or has House Solaire forgotten the debt it owes to House Amaranthe so quickly? The legacy of our—

Legacy? Alexis spits, and there’s a flash of a mental image – a high-heeled shoe, crushing a human skull into powder. Like you even know what that means.

More than you, the boy scoffs. You’ve not even hit your first century yet, dolly bird. Left your miniskirt at home, huh?

I’m surprised you know what a miniskirt is, she replies archly, and William feels her silently cursing the fact that he knew she was turned in the sixties. Not like anyone lets you under them these days.

I wouldn’t want to be under yours, certainly.

She pouts, mockingly. No? You’re missing out, then.

“What did he mean by that?”

William blinks, shaken from Alexis’ recollections to see her out of the muslin and half-dressed already, pulling her shirt over her head. “Pardon?”

“The… that debt,” she says, voice tinged with confusion. “Did they do something for us?”

Has he really never told her?

The Amaranthes are Old Blood, technically, although not by that name. The current head lives somewhere near Deauville, as if that fools anyone. They’re not even French, at least not originally – they’re actually a branch of House Abendroth that managed to escape the frenzy of vampiric persecution that swept across Europe in the mid-eighteenth century.

If there’s a debt he owes to anyone, it would be to House Abendroth. His Maker’s blood still soaked into his clothes, half-dead from exhaustion after crossing the border into – well, it wasn’t even Germany at the time, just a duchy he hadn’t cared to learn the name of, as he fled the smoking, screeching ruins of that awful clan. He still remembers looking up at the manor house by Lake Starnberg, freezing and hungry as Elisa dragged him through the gates, and thinking that he must have found heaven.

It’s a debt he never got the chance to repay, a debt that burned along with the Abenroths when the human hunters came for them. A splinter branch of a family tree that’s nothing more than deadwood. House Amaranthe are nothing like Elisa.

“Nothing of note,” he manages to say. “Nothing worth remembering.”

Alexis clearly doesn’t buy it, but she just blinks and looks away. “Okay.”

A minute passes. The seamstresses finish packing up and quietly excuse themselves with a bow.

“Did you kill him, at least?”

Alexis huffs, and it’s nearly a laugh. “Obviously.”

“How?”

For half a second, he’s back in her head, leaning over a balcony and picking dead skin from under her fingernails. A blonde corpse leaks blood into the fountain on the terrace below, twisted and crushed until it’s almost unrecognisable, fine silk sodden with water.

“I do hope that’s not our fountain.”

“It was at some party in Budapest, so no.” She’s dressed now, fiddling with one of the charms on her bracelet. “We left before they even finished clearing it up. It was fucking boring, anyway.”

“Who’s partying in Budapest?”

Vincent’s voice is muffled slightly by the walls and the ceiling, although both of them can hear the rattle of his jewellery case as he rifles through it in his bedroom. That boy wears so many rings, it’s a wonder he can even lift his hands out of his pockets.

“Not you,” Alexis yawns, “unless Gavin’s planning on flying you out tonight.”

“He might.”

“The clubs in Budapest aren’t that good.”

“They’re good!” Either Vincent is more attached to Hungarian nightlife than he lets on, or he’s finished picking out his jewellery – either way, he comes lolloping down the stairs and saunters into the living room, dropping himself onto the sofa right in his sister’s lap. “You’re just bad at languages.”

Alexis wrinkles her nose haughtily and pokes him in the side. “Everybody understands vodka Red Bull.”

“They understand that you have shit taste in drinks.”

“You drink Buck’s fizz! Like a fucking teenager!”

“I drink it ‘cause it comes with th—”

The intercom buzzes, and thank God, it must be the milliner’s delivery. Discreetly, William stands up and heads for the control panel in the foyer before they start biting each other. If he doesn’t see it, it never happened.

The delivery is swift, only two crates this time, so he leaves them by the bottom of the stairs to sort out when they get back from their shopping trip. Speaking of which, they really ought to get going. There’s an awful lot to do.

While he’s there, he uses the landline to call ahead and tell the Rosewood to expect them around one o’clock. They know to always give them a table away from the windows, but he makes a point of asking for the eventide menu, regardless. You can’t be too careful.

He goes back into the living room to find the children glaring daggers at each other, which would probably be more meaningful if they weren’t also curled up together against the arm of the sofa like puppies, pointedly ignoring the low murmur of satisfaction that William can feel through his Maker’s bonds.

God, they’re so adorable.

“Zou ba.” He shakes his head fondly, and goes to get his coat from the hook by the front door. “We’re already late.”

“What?”

“Wait, really?”

…They’re not late at all. It’s just funny watching Alexis scurry upstairs to get her handbag when he knows she left it in the kitchen last night, and Vincent tripping over his own feet as he tries to put his shoes on without having to undo the laces.

Smiling to himself, he reaches into the console table drawer and picks out a random set of car keys, before heading out to the garage. To his delight, it’s Vincent’s red Purosangue that lights up when he clicks the button.

“Lili, are you driving today?”

“Yes!” She comes racing out to the garage, Vincent in hot pursuit, and plucks the keys from his outstretched hand. “I’m driving!”

“What? Ba!”

It’s too late. William snickers as he opens the passenger side door, delicately adjusting his gloves as he sits down. “Too late, chéri.”

“It’s my car!”

“Get in, then,” Alexis says through the thick tint of the driver’s side window, and grins as Vincent grumpily opens the door behind her and slides into the back seat. “So fussy.”

She starts to reverse out of the garage, but it’s quite obvious that she’s not really sure how big this car is, getting dangerously close to the wall when—

Thump!

“Didi!”

Vincent just cackles to himself as Alexis stamps on the brake, hand still resting against the doorframe he’d just hit. “That’s never going to not get you, is it?”

“I swear to God, I’m gonna kill you!”

“You said that last time!”

“Savages,” William mutters, mostly to himself, “my house is full of savages…”

The bickering between the front and back seats quickly turns into a heated argument over who gets to choose the music, and William closes his eyes as Alexis finally gives in and lets Vincent connect his phone to the car Bluetooth while she drives down towards the gate. He ends up choosing one of his favourite albums – it’s some sort of rock-pop something or other from about ten years ago, maybe twenty, the story of which he’s tried unsuccessfully to explain to William about a hundred times.

My darlings, my darlings. A plate of lilac-coloured frosting that’s more candles than cake. Tiny yellow shoes, Velcro straps undone, lined up by the door. The little brother who’s not so little, the older sister who never gets older. He could never love them less, only more and more and more.

William smiles. The gate opens automatically as they get closer, and Alexis turns the volume up as she drives through. Vincent just sings even louder.

link to the oyster eater pronunciation guide <3

main masterlist

this is an original fanwork by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fluff #redacted solaires #redacted vincent #redacted alexis #redacted william #redacted fic #redacted fanfic #ginger writes #gingerbreadmonsters

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johannestevans · 7 months ago

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It's the Smashwords annual sale, and thousands of eBooks are discounted, with many of mine FREE!

You can browse all of my books on Smashwords here, and delightfully with Smashwords, you can even eBooks as gifts as well as having them for yourself!

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Heart of Stone - Novel. Agonisingly slowburn historical fantasy romance between an ADHD vampire and his autistic secretary. Gentle humour and lots of conversation.

Powder and Feathers - Long novel. Found family & fucked up romance between a BPD transmasc Fallen Angel and the depressed artist he begins stalking in the park. Les Mis inspired, horny and violent.

Gerald Poole and the Pirates - Novella. MM and MMM romance. ADHD gentleman and exhausted autistic naval lieutenant are kidnapped by a devilishly sexy pirate and his crew in the 18th century Mediterranean.

Divine Service - Novella. Pre-romance, with Jeeves and Wooster flavouring. A young man coming into himself as a servant in a big house is pulled to a higher destiny by his divine father; meanwhile, a clumsy and abashed young man attempts to escape his family's plans for him.

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Very Well - Romance in Ancient Greece. A herbalist is dispatched for his role in an arranged marriage of sorts with a priest of Aristaeus far from home. With time – and effort – the two of them come to an understanding.

A Man's Indentures - Fantasy/romance short. A man indentured is dispatched to an island to be a bailiff's bodyguard. 13.5k, M/M. A man indentured for his parents' debts is dispatched to a magic-poor island to serve as bodyguard to the local bailiff — an imperfectly beautiful man who has indentures of his own.

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Sun-Kissed and Lightning-Touched - A mercenary and a messenger travel together to an isolated mountain shrine. 9k, rated E, cis M/M. Euclides, a mercenary, accompanies the haughty messenger Iridoros to an isolated shrine on the top of a mountain.

Hitting the Books - A young man (age 24) returns to his old school to teach and attempts to pursue his old history teacher. Rated M, 12.6k, cis M/M.

Steps Ahead - A serving boy seduces a prince who is tired of the weight of his crown. Rated M. 13.7k. M/M fantasy, with dark comedy throughout, and a rather fraught romance. Prince Alexander, who hates the weight of his crown, his kingdom, and his princely identity, tries at every opportunity to escape his position, but is foiled at every turn.

Sleeping Beauty - A sailor takes something that doesn't belong to him, and the captain punishes him for it. 9.2k, cis M/trans M and cis M/M. A carpenter's apprentice can't resist the captain's cabin boy while he's meant to be performing maintenance, and afterwards, the captain and the cabin boy punish him between them.

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Room for Dessert - An office worker is taken out for dinner by his new, hot boss. 5.8k, rated E, M/M. Boss/employee, age difference, power dynamics, food kink, stuffing, kissing, some mild masochism.

For Want of Time - A delivery man is quite infatuated with the clerk at a magical toy shop. Sweet and loving M/M romance developing bit by bit here. Rated T, 6k, with teasing and flirtation throughout. CW for loss of a parent and grief.

The Many Deaths of Baldr the Undying - One of Odin's record-keepers interviews the god Loki on the subject of the god Baldr – his life, his death, and what came after. 13.6k, rated M for violence, featuring some Loki and Baldr, some Odin scheming off-screen.

The Devil's Mark - In medieval Bohemia, a young man trails after the executioner after the hanging of his father. Eventually taking pity on him, the executioner invites him inside. 11k, rated E, M/M. Some age difference, intimacy, oral, first-time topping, and masturbation, but the E rating here is as much here for heavy themes.

Agony and Ecstasy - An abbot takes a stranded sailor on for… personal duties. 6k, M/M, rated E! Age difference, virginity kink, some naivety, some oral and anal, first time enthusiasm.

Gellert's New Job - Gellert has worked as a business manager for the King family for nearly a decade when an error in judgement brings his employment to an abrupt end. Lucien Pike, a rival kingpin, employs his services instead. Fantasy, crime, and a good bit of dark humour. 21k. Rated M. Transgender, autistic man's POV; both protagonists are autistic.

Touch-Starved - When a man finds out about his disabled coworker's active sex life, he's very jealous, and maybe… something else, too. Rated E, cis M/ cis M, 15k! Arden Rice has been friends with Sebastian April for years, and it's never occurred to him before now that April might have an active sex life — let alone a sex life he want to involve himself in.

... and a good few other stories besides!

#musings #original fiction #writers on tumblr #authors on tumblr #original characters

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yeoja-dream · 2 years ago

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Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger Word Count: 3.6k

Jungkook’s vision went white and he felt the air pulled out of his lungs as in a flash, he was again in the hospital room, Namjoon hovered worryingly over your body. He looked up as you arrived, obvious relief relaxing his features as his eyes landed on Baba Yena.

“Baba Yena,” Namjoon greeted with a bow. “I was only able to do a cursory search, but her kind isn’t listed or documented in any infernal records I was able to get my hands on.”

“Of course, because she is not from the hells, my child.” Baba Yena said, walking to your bedside, and shooing him away. “She is indeed a rare sight to behold, but you will have to ask her about her heritage, she has taken considerable lengths to conceal it.”

“So you will save her?” Namjoon asked, hopeful.

“Yes, horned one. Your mate has sacrificed sufficiently, and this child has suffered greatly as it is. It is not yet her time to die.” Baba Yena said, beginning to pull several black, oily drawing implements as well as a bottle of bright blue, glowing liquid.

Without much regard for the others standing in the room, Baba Yena began unceremoniously undressing your body, causing both the men in the room to turn their gaze elsewhere. Perhaps in a different time or context, it would be embarrassing, exciting perhaps, but they felt it perverse to see you unclothed in such a state. Fully nude, Baba Yena began using the black, oily, drawing implements to draw intricate symbols all over your body.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, back still turned.

“Her body is too weak to house her soul, so it is lost somewhere in the Astral Sea. The water from the Elu Spring in the Fey Wild will heal and strengthen her body. The markings are the spell that will call her soul back to her body.”

With that, Baba Yena sat you up, popping the cork of the blue liquid, and carefully poured it down your throat. Immediately, your almost grey skin flushes with color, and your rapid, shallow breaths begin to even out. Namjoon watched the monitor carefully, breathing a sigh of relief as your heart rate became stronger and faster too. Baba Yena then closed her eyes, extending her arms out straight, palms down. Her palms began to glow with a bright, white light, and as they glowed, so did the markings on your body. Baba Yena’s face scrunched with concentration. “Come on, child. It is not yet time to go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You came to, opening your eyes, rubbing them harshly as to clear your blurred vision. You feel yourself to be weightless, immediately, as if floating on water. All around you, horizon to horizon, were breathtakingly vibrant and clear night skies, completely lit up with stars and nebula as far as the eye could see. Below, was a massive and never-ending sea of the purest, molten silver, opaque and mirror-like, the gentle waves that broke the surface capturing the starlight with such luster you wondered for a moment if the water had been made of the cosmos, perhaps from the tears of the other stars, crying for the fallen.

It didn’t exactly take a scholar to figure out you had found yourself in the Astral Plane, the plane souls found themselves in before continuing onto an afterlife fitting of whomever they worshiped in life. Legend has it that the Astral Sea is what waters the Tree of Life, and drinking from its waters will grant you all knowledge and power akin to a God in your own right. Others said those with enough hubris or guts to try are simply driven stark raving mad, cursed to roam the endless abyss with nothing but the voices in their head to keep them company. Considering that you had yet to hear of a God exalted by this water, you were more inclined to believe the latter.

How the fuck did I get to the astral realm? You asked yourself, anxiety and panic prickling at your skin. You combed through your memories, you woke up, got dressed, had breakfast, and… you hit a wall. You try to push forward, but the more you do so, the more your brain shoots with pain. Something or someone was blocking you from remembering something important, and you judged. Whether or not that was simply a symptom of the situation you found yourself in or a direct action taken by someone, you had yet to discern.

There was at least one thing you knew about the Astral Plane, that in order to travel it, you only had to think, to will yourself in one direction or the other. You started by willing yourself into the vertical, upright position with the sea 10 meters below. What you did not know, however, was how magic functioned in this plane. The first obvious solution was to attempt to plane shift back to your reality, but when you mentally cast your consciousness out looking for laylines to dip into, you couldn’t find any. You willed yourself forward then, continuing the mental search.

Time in the Astral worked differently than in the prime material plane. There was no day or night, time simply did not pass, so it was impossible to gauge how long you truly spent looking, but you only stopped when your head throbbed from the exertion. Could it be possible that the Astral had no laylines? Or perhaps your magic had been cut off somehow, rendering you blind to any laylines that might exist? If that was the case, had you actually died? The thought raised your blood pressure.

Without the ability to dip into the magic, you were certainly not plane-shifting out of this shitty situation. You patted yourself down and only now realized that you were entirely without your personal effects, now wearing a rough spin, off-white tunic, brown pants of the same fabric, and a pair of worn leather boots. More importantly, without your stuff, you had returned to your true form. The realization was not helping the actually dead theory. You willed yourself forward, hoping to run into another soul, maybe someone who could help you figure this situation out.

You floated for what felt like years, decades. You didn’t need to eat or sleep, and with no time reference, the monotony alone would drive anyone mad, you didn’t even need to drink the seawater, you decided. Sometimes you saw people, mostly in the distance, however, and when you’d try to call their attention, they would flee like their lives depended on it. Other times the Sea itself would open up, portals of different shades of light would flash, dropping off newly departed souls, or more often, yanking an older soul into one afterlife or another. No one spoke to one another, and certainly no one spoke to you. That is, until mercifully, you hear your voice called by a friendly male voice behind you.

“Y/N?” The voice called out. The tone was friendly and definitively male, but there was a quality about the timbre that called out to something deeper and forgotten inside of you. You turned around hesitantly, seeing a tall, human man in his 20s. His hair was curly, his features dark and his skin a tanned olive. There was a familiarity to his look, and as he approached closer, it finally clicked.

“Fareed?!” You asked with a mixture of shock and surprise.

“Long time no see!” He said with a friendly wave.

When you had first escaped from the Fey Wild, Fareed was your first friend as a young child. Fareed was a bubbly but fearless kid whose hobbies appropriately included talking to strangers and jumping off the highest places he could find. He often slipped extra portions of his lunch out of the house, but you always suspected his mom knew and was giving him too much food deliberately. His fearlessness got him taken away far too young, and when our country began conscripting soldiers for some war in some faraway land, he was the first to volunteer. We received news of his passing only one month later.

To see him in his current state, alive, well, and sane choked you up and you found yourself fighting back tears.

“It’s Y/N! I must look considerably different now than when you last saw me.” You said gesturing to your true self. “Why are you still here?” You asked. Fareed had died at least 200 years ago, and you had always hoped that he was living it up in some cushy afterlife.

“I could recognize your energy from across all the planes.” He said with a light laugh. “The Astral has guardians and protectors like any other plane,” He explained. “I dedicated my afterlife to guiding and protecting the lost souls that wander here, and when it is time for them to pass on, I help them find that passage.”

“That sounds like an incredibly noble cause and absolutely something you would do,” You said with a laugh.

“Speaking of which,” He began, “I have gotten a sudden influx of souls complaining about a weird, noisy soul wandering around, harassing folks. Which, in turn, leads me to you. What are you doing here, you don’t seem dead?” He asked.

“About that,” you sighed “I woke up here and I can’t remember how or why I got here, and I would have simply teleported back but I can’t seem to use my magic.”

“That is strange, considering that the Astral Plane is incredibly magically potent, equally if not more so than the Fey Wild.” He stated. “Come here and let me touch your forehead, let me see if I can’t get this sorted for you.”

You willed yourself closer to him, and in response, he stuck his hand out, fingers tented, and placed them on your forehead. You feel nothing, but you watch Fareed’s eyes dart around rapidly, making negative vocalizations. After a moment, he drops his hand and focuses his vision back on you.

“Life certainly hasn’t been very kind to you, Y/N, and for that, I want to express my condolences.”

“Fareed the years have made you so well-spoken!” You exclaim with a laugh. “Thank you.” You said, more seriously.

“You have a powerful curse on you, but I think you already knew that. It is strange but refreshing to see your true form.” He stated. You nodded in confirmation as he continued, “You are not dead. You almost died. That is how you ended up here. Someone extremely powerful wanted you to forget what happened to you, so they blocked your memory and your magic. Fortunately, I am also someone extremely powerful and I was able to remove the block, but not the curse on you as a whole. That is a complicated and difficult endeavor not even I can do.”

With that information, you think back again, this time with crystal clear acuity. You remember the club, rescuing the woman, meeting Jungkook, his preposition. You remember being in his embrace, heat and lust and euphoria taking over every one of your senses, you remember begging him not to stop despite fading away slowly, and then darkness.

“I think I have a soulmate, Fareed.” You breathed.

“I am inclined to agree. All things do.”

“He has mates already though, 6 of them!” You exclaimed.

“Then you also have 6 additional mates,” Fareed said matter of factly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even know those people.”

Fareed cocked an eyebrow at you. “Y/N, do you know how soulmates work?”

“Love and magic and shit, no?” You asked with a shrug.

“Not quite,” Fareed explained. “Souls as most people like to refer to them are actually called Fragments. They are the broken-up pieces of Soulias. When the gods created all sentient living things, they made a center of power, into which they put all knowledge, power, emotion, experience, and condition, and they named that power center Soulia. The problem occurred when the gods tried to plant these Soulias into vessels, the power would overwhelm the vessel and tear it apart, and the ones strong enough to withstand were monstrous creatures of pain, chaos, and violence. The Gods decided to fracture the Soulias. The larger Fragments would go into the vessels they were creating, and the smaller Shards, remnants of the fracturing process, would go into all other living creatures. Fracturing also ensured that no two vessels would live an identical life and that only true harmony could be attained when you shared your piece, your life, your soul, with others around you. It was usually convenient to break the Soulia into two, so often you will see soul mates in pairs of two. But for larger Soulias, smaller Fragments are needed, so it is broken up into smaller pieces, so soulmate groups of more than two are certainly possible. The Soulia inside the vessel will spend its whole life pining after its other pieces. Many people never find their true other half, but a good deal will find love nonetheless and find satisfaction in that. Many here found their Shards in life inside beloved plants and animals.”

“I never knew all that,” You stared at him mouth agape. “So my soul, fragment, fits in with all of theirs?” You ask, gripping at your chest.

“Precisely.”

“What happens when all the parts of a Soulia are bought together?” You asked.

“Well, as I said before, the fracturing process is extremely imperfect, and in the creation of Fragments, a great number of shards are also produced, so getting every part of a Soulia back together is practically impossible. You can, however, tie the pieces together somewhat, bonding or mating as you likely know it, which affords all persons a metaphysical line to one another. Through that line, you can pick up on how your partner is feeling, you can send short messages or emotional sentiments. If they allow you in, you can enter their mind, they can share memories with you as they saw them, and they can allow you to feel exactly how they feel, understand how they actually think. It is a powerful connection, and allows for deeper intimacy and connection possible by other non-soulmate or non-bonded pairs.”

“That sounds… intrusive.” You mumble, arms crossed.

“It can be, but everything is done with the consent of both parties. You can ignore the call of your mate down the bond, even after you’ve let them in you can push them out of your mind at any time, and you can block anyone from entering. Just takes a little practice.”

You frown at that, “It sounds like you are selling it to me.”

“I guess you could say that I am. You seem upset, why? Most people are delighted to meet a soulmate.”

“I’m mad that my soulmate almost killed me, I’m mad that I have a soulmate, I’m mad that I have 7 soul mates. I’m mad that I’ve lived the last 50 years of my life in relative solitude because I was sick and tired of getting fucked over and suddenly 7 of potentially the deepest and most intimate connections a living thing can experience is dropped onto my lap so yeah, color me upset! I can’t do loss anymore, Fareed. It’s too painful.”

He looked you up and down, contemplatively. “If I may, one old friend to another?”

You nod in response.

“Look around and tell me what you see.” He said, making a wide sweeping gesture.

“I see endless and endless nothing dotted with lonely, lost souls, hoping that someday they’ll be called to something better.”

“Time may not pass in the Astral, but what I quickly learned is that this is the summation of a human life, Y/N. They live, and most days are bleak, boring, and mundane. Occasionally, another lonely soul will cross their path, and for a time, they find comfort in one another. Ultimately, they part, and at the end of it all, they pass on hoping that whatever next is someplace better, and yet for many this is what they have to look forward to.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you are getting at, Fareed.”

“You have lived a long, brilliant life Y/N, many times longer than many of the souls that wander here. You have suffered more than much more than many of these souls, but you have been gifted the chance to love and be loved much more than many of these souls. So go, Y/N. Set yourself free from grief, worry, and suspicion. Do not shy away from love for fear of pain, love despite it, and love fiercely and unapologetically. When you are called to join us here again, come with joy in your heart from a life fearlessly spent, or be doomed to eternity searching the silver sea for your salvation. You are your own salvation.”

You pursed your lips tightly, looking down at the Astral Sea as you processed his words.

“It isn’t that easy,” You began, your voice wavering.

“For you, it won’t be,” He admitted. “It is true some come into this world full of light and for whom trust and love come easy. But for those who have been hurt as you have, it is going to be hard. Just because things are hard doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or that they are bad for us.”

“You know what I am, what I am made of. You see the ticking bomb I am, and yet you insist I allow people to get close to me to what... hurt as many as I can? I will never be free, Fareed. They will chase me to the ends of time and take from me what they feel they are owed. We both know that.” You finish your rant, a single tear running down your cheek. As you do so, a bright white portal opens on the top of the Astral Sea, slowly dragging you closer and closer to its event horizon.

“It seems our time together has run out,” Fareed said. “If you would allow me to leave you with a parting thought before you go. The only memories they blocked from you were of him. They wanted you to forget him so desperately they blocked your magic essentially confining you to a realm where they would never be able to touch you again. That is worth considering.”

As your feet began to hit the portal, Fareed grabbed your hand holding it close.

“Make the world tremble at you, Y/N. I don’t want to see you here for a long, long time. Good luck-” The end of the word was clipped as your vision went white, your hearing went silent, and like you were being flushed down a toilet, you felt yourself being yanked at lightning speed by your feet, and suddenly everything was again dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baba Yena pulled up her arms suddenly, and in response, your body involuntarily arched. When doing so, you let out a sudden, loud gasp, causing all present to breathe a small sigh of relief to themselves too.

“The child was very deep, so it took me a while to find her.” Baba Yena said, redressing you in a spare hospital bed and tucking you in gently. “Both of you,” She said, turning to the men who had huddled together for comfort during the spell. “Kneel.”

They looked at each other, but rather than piss off a supremely powerful being who just did you a massive favor, the pair concede, sinking to the floor on their knees. Once in position, Baba Yena approached the pair. While kneeling, Baba Yena was at eye level with the boys. She approached Jungkook first.

Thwack! She cracked him across the skull with a walking cane. “What are you doing bleeding girls dry like you're some poor changling with no control of their thirst? You are over 200 years old, act your age! You had no business testing out a connection you had no idea if you could control without supervision.” Baba Yena scolded him thoroughly.

“And you,” Thwack! This time she cracked Namjoon over the skull with the cane. “What the hell kind of doctor are you? You were in such a rush to do nothing you didn’t stop to see the blinding, gold amulet that she wears? The very same type you and several of your mates wear? If he almost killed her, you were signing the death certificate with your negligence ink. You ought to be ashamed.” She finished, brushing nothing off her petticoat, and gathering her things to leave.

“She will wake in 3 days fully rested and back to full health. There will come a time when she has questions about herself, and when she does, find me. Until then, leave me alone. You kids have caused me enough trouble as it is. Oh and, be careful with that one. She has been through enough.” And with that, she flourishes the very same cane, vanishing.

The silence that hangs in the air after Baba Yena leaves is long and heavy, but mixed with relief as the pair approach both sides of your bed, staring at your sleeping form. It was amazing how starkly opposite you looked now to even just an hour before, knocking on death’s door.

“I think you have a lot of explaining to do, Kook.”

“Later,” The younger one pleaded. “I just want to sit here for a little while.”

“Later.” Namjoon agreed, excusing himself. Not but 20 minutes later, he found himself back in the room, second chair and laptop in hand. Jungkook was too guilt-ridden to say it, but he was immensely grateful for the company. He hoped you were too.

_____________________________________________ Tags @luvlykyy ---------------------------------------------------------- Big lore dump this chapter! Some of you may be noticing some inspiration from DnD to lend me some framework for world-building! That is absolutely true, but as I also mentioned I have been using it as a framework, and as such it may or may not veer violently off the Forgotten Realms cannon, so don't get too twisted about "Hey, that's not how that thing works!" It's just a work of fiction I'm writing for funsies at the end of the day so don't take it too seriously. I hope you are all enjoying~

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x reader angst #bts x reader smut #bts x oc #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 x you #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts smut #bts smau #bts #bangtan #foundfatedforever

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