#(vampire au) dove ash

[deputyash]

you have a vampire au for dove right? tell me about that au with her and john! (--direwombat)

This is less headcanons and more just me rambling about my Vampire AU haha XD I love that I’ve finally been given a chance to talk about my AUs. Thanks for sending it in! :D

Like her regular storyline, Dove is from Texas originally. She was living a normal life until she was turned into a vampire (haven’t planned out how exactly yet). Obviously the sun-filled state of Texas isn’t a good place for a vampire, so she moves to Hope County with the help of her uncle’s friend, Earl Whitehorse. Dove moved to Hope County because she thought it would be a nice, quiet, peaceful place to escape the sunlight and have access to all the wildlife she would ever need to survive. Well…that didn’t happen, at all. 

In this universe, she still starts out as the junior deputy. It was a way to cover up her secret and give her a sense of normalcy. She stuck to the night shifts (again thanks to Sheriff Whitehorse) to ensure she would be safe. Unfortunately, when a certain cult by the name of Eden’s Gate moves in, things take a turn. When the Marshal shows up to arrest Joseph, Whitehorse is forced to bring his dwindling team with him, including Dove. (Somehow Whitehorse convinced Burke to wait until nightfall to make the arrest.)

After she is separated from everyone, she is mostly on her own. Besides fighting an entire cult on her own, it’s very difficult for her to balance her need for blood and her desire to keep her humanity. She doesn’t get to hunt for animals nearly enough and she refuses to drink from people unless they are willing (or if they really manage to piss her off, but even then she tries her best to be restrained). She fights the cult as best as she can, but it’s slow progress due to her restrictions. However, the fact that she can’t really become injured or die easily does help. This does begin to raise suspicion among some people. John is the first to notice out of the Heralds. He’s only ever encountered her at night and he’s heard stories of her getting into situations that would’ve killed anyone else. His initial guess is wrong. He believed she was a demon, sent to destroy him and his family’s divine mission.

To further investigate, he sets a trap for her (more of an experiment actually). After she escapes her bindings in his bunker, he willingly opens the doors, only for it to be revealed that it was daylight outside. He asks her what was wrong, already knowing the answer. Dove is instantly angry at him, knowing that he’s figured out her secret. When she’s forced to walk back to their confession room, they have a back and forth discussion (semi-mild argument really). John accuses her of being a monster and Dove retorts that she may be a monster, but that he’s no better than her. He has his humanity still and yet he does awful things.

Jumping ahead in the timeline, Dove and John manage to get themselves stuck in one of the random small bunkers in the county. (Haven’t come up with a reason why yet haha.) There’s plenty of regular food in the bunker to last until they can be rescued, but of course Dove can’t eat it (or gain any benefit from it at least). Dove is already weakened from restricting her diet so much that she’s essentially starving to death. Also, important note, at this point, her and John have moved from pure enemies to “it’s complicated.” John reluctantly offers to be a willing participant for Dove to feed from. She is wary of his willingness, but she’s hungry so she accepts the agreement. And oh no, John finds that he’s into the act of Dove biting into his neck and oh no why is he thinking about all of the other places she could bite him (*coughs* “You know Dove, there’s a pretty good artery on the thigh.” - John Seed). Meanwhile, Dove’s in absolute heaven from finally feeling stronger again. And oh no, why does she like the feeling of John’s heartbeat racing against her palms? Why does she want to be closer to him, to feel his warmth against her skin?

[lexirosewrites]

hi, I’m LexiRoseWrites

(pfp made by @/itcanbepalped)

☆ you can call me Lexi or Lex

☆ 28, nonbinary, bisexual, autistic, and a nurse

☆ they/he/she, but they/he preferred— gendered terms of any sort are fine with me!

☆ twitter/X: @LexiRoseWrites1

☆ my inbox is open and you’re welcome to ask me anything or send me a request! (I will delete hate/bullying sent, so don’t bother)

☆ please ask before writing about one of my posts! I am not a prompt generator, so make sure you ask first!!

☆ this is an 18+ blog because while I write lots of steddie and specifically omegaverse content, occasionally you’ll find NSFW things or a dead dove here (always heavily tagged) because I’m apparently the big scary proshipper you’ve been warned about

☆ blog navigation: #my fics, #my asks, #wip Wednesday, #throwback Thursday fics, #spreadsheet Saturday, #slick Sunday

↓ masterlist of ficlets and fics below the cut ↓

TUMBLR FICLETS

Steddie:

☆ Amnesia ☆ Card Games ☆ Dinner Reservations ☆ Handcuffs ☆ Lingerie ☆ Not Dating ☆ Serial Killer Soulmates: part 1 | part 2 ☆ Steve Accidentally Summons a Demon: part 1 | part 2 ☆ Steve Isn’t Coping ☆ Transfem Stevie ☆

Omegaverse Steddie:

☆ 24-Hour Diner: part 1 | part 2 ☆ Alpha-for-Hire Eddie ☆ Autistic Omega Steve ☆ Baby Mine ☆ Birthday Massage ☆ Bitchy Omega Steve / Lovesick Alpha Eddie: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ☆ Camboy Steve ☆ Everyone is a Beta ☆ Expectations ☆ Fake Dating Fertility Clinic ☆ Fate Binds Us ☆ Hairdresser Steve/Rockstar Eddie ☆ Health Class ☆ Hellfire Cult ☆ I didn’t know we were dating: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ☆ Infertility ☆ Kas Eddie ☆ Losing Control ☆ Nestless Omega Steve ☆ Older Steve/Younger Eddie ☆ Oral Coach Steve ☆ Pathetic Omega Steve ☆ Platonic Stobin ☆ Scent Blockers ☆ Speak Now ☆ Steve Gets A Puppy ☆ Such A Good Boy ☆ The Bachelor ☆ The Best Present ☆ The Reunion ☆ Time Loop ☆ Unknowingly Claimed ☆ Wealthy Steve/Busker Eddie ☆

General Omegaverse:

☆ Alpha/Omega Voices ☆ Basic Guide to Omegaverse Terms ☆ Bite Lore ☆ Rejection Sickness ☆ Scruffing ☆

AO3 FICS

All of my fics are steddie unless otherwise stated, mostly explicit and omegaverse, but check actual tags before reading anything please!

☆ Current WIPs ☆

A Million Dreams: A/B/O, circus AU, 2/4 chapters, 10k

Keep Digging (until you find my heart buried next to yours in the ground): A/B/O, archeology au, soulmates, reincarnation, 2/3 chapters, 17k

Scatter The Ashes: A/B/O, mafia AU, sequel to Watch It All Burn, 4/16 chapters, 18k

Waking Up In Vegas: A/B/O, accidental mating, rockstar Eddie, 5/15 chapters, 33k

☆ Unfinished (Series) ☆

Going For The Gold: A/B/O, ice skater Steve/hockey player Eddie, 18k

Jailbirds Can’t Fly: A/B/O, dead dove, prison AU, bitching, 12k

Keep It On Campus: A/B/O, college AU, 22k

Lucky Number 666: A/B/O, mafia AU, single parent Steve, 3k

My Heart’s Been Borrowed and Yours Has Been Blue: A/B/O, divorced kindergarten teacher Steve/tattoo artist Eddie, 25k

The Bunny and The Wolf: A/B/O, mafia AU, 154k

☆ Complete ☆

A Prince and His Pauper: A/B/O, medieval/royalty AU, stuttering Steve, 100k

All I Want For Christmas Is You: A/B/O, Christmas fic, 6k

And The Sun Will Rise: A/B/O, zombie apocalypse AU, 41k

Baby Mine: A/B/O, omega Eddie/alpha Steve, unplanned pregnancy, hurt/comfort, 2k

Bandaids (And Other Home Remedies): A/B/O, pediatric nurse Steve/single dad Eddie, 87k

Bleeding Heart: A/B/O, vampire Eddie/human Steve, 21k

Business Before Pleasure: A/B/O, Buckingham, Office AU, 16k

Exigency Contact: A/B/O, threesome, Steddie/Stargyle/Steddigyle, rockstar Eddie, 10k

Five Years: amnesia, 1k

Fragile (Handle With Care): A/B/O, soulmates, rockstar Eddie, 117k

He’s So Mean: A/B/O, high school AU, 3k

Let Me Be Your (Teddy Bear): A/B/O, bitching, 11k

Mad World: trans male Eddie, childhood friends, 3k

More of You to Love: A/B/O, chubby Steve, 4k

Never Be Alone Again: A/B/O, dead dove, stalker Eddie, 3k

Oblivious: t4t, mutual pining, 3k

On A Different Page: A/B/O, didn’t know they were dating, 7k

Online, Offline (Out of My Mind): A/B/O, soulmates, online dating, actor Steve/mechanic Eddie, 41k

Screaming Your Name In The Dark: A/B/O, dead dove, Kas Eddie, alternating past/present timelines, 27k

Silver: A/B/O, silverfox omega Steve/younger alpha Eddie, 6k

Tell Me About It, Stud: A/B/O, studding, 7k

The Rings Stay On: cis female Steve, 4k

The Start of Something Perfect: A/B/O, soulmates, 2k

The Stutter and The Freak: stuttering Steve, 14k

Touch Me: A/B/O, omega/omega, therapist Eddie/touch-repulsed Steve, 12k

Unholy Matrimony: demon Eddie/human Steve, 5k

Unsafe Bet: A/B/O, high school AU, dating as a prank, 65k

[lirational]

Scarlet

Fantasy AU Path to Nowhere

Vampire!Oak Casket x Nurse!Reader

Content warnings: Yandere themes, dubious consent, fantasy drugging, and mentions of blood. DARK CONTENT. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

SMUT UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

The first time Oak got close to you outside of work, you were half-asleep, darkness threatening to claim you as your eyes glaze in a futile attempt to read the documents.

New supplies of medicine, something about the increasing costs, and the subtle change in basic ingredients of a medicine rendering a few patients unable to ingest it or risk a fatal reaction. There was always something to be done, something that needs fixing, and as one of the few people working here, you have to pull your weight, too.

But, you cannot deny your own exhaustion.

In a daze, you flick the document to the next page, intending to place the document asking for a permit to perform a blood test on the Sinners to the side. It was something you could not handle yourself, as such things require direct approval from the Chief - and you could deal with it in the morning.

As you were about to take the paper, though, a stinging sensation split your skin open, and you hiss in pain, awareness returning to you with the sharp sting.

“(Name)?”

You jerk your head to look at the source of the voice. Of course you recognized her, after all, she was one of the few patients assigned to you. Though you never interacted with her beyond what professional duties were demanded of you, she was here long enough for you to know a little bit about her, including her Mania-induced mutation that gave her a taste for blood.

“Oak? Why are you here? It is late.”

“You’re injured.”

Your mind was bleary from exhaustion, but you were able to notice that she didn’t answer your question.

For a long moment, Oak stared at the red bead of blood seeping out from the slight cut, pupils blown and dilated. If her gaze could rake hot coals onto its target, you would’ve been turned into ashes long ago. She swallowed, bit her lips, and turned away, fishing for the handkerchief hidden beneath her clothes. Even under the dim lights of the late-night office, it looked pure-white and well-maintained.

“It’s alright, Oak, I can just—“

Your protest were interrupted by a hiss escaping your own mouth, and the press of soft cloth against your wound. You watched as blood bloomed on the cloth, stark and sharp stain marring it. Oak did not seem to mind, her mismatched eyes staring at the scarlet stain in marked interest.

It was then, you realized, that you were alone, exhausted, and in the presence of a Sinner with affinity for blood.

“You should rest. Not much time left until dawn approaches,” Oak said, pocketing the sullied cloth, her expression unbothered. “If you start the next day exhausted, as much as I would enjoy witnessing the proof of our mortality stemmed from careless mistakes, you would not feel the same.”

“But, there is still—“

“Perhaps, you would prefer to sleep next to me instead?”

The thought of sleeping inside a coffin was enough to silence you, and in turn, push you to go back to your quarters.

“Alright. Good night, Oak.”

As you closed the door, she sighed, lips curving in a triumphant smile. Pale fingers hooked on the dirtied handkerchief, and she brought the stained part close to her face, taking a deep whiff with the glee of a starving man who was given a plate of fresh food, her lips grazed at it in a desperation she would not show anyone but you.

She muttered your name with reverence, each repeated call leaving her lips tinted with desire and want. The sweet, sweet scent was enough to almost bring her to her knees, clawing at her sanity. The pitter-patter of your steps, going further by the second, was enticing her to go and give chase, to claim and possess you. Needle-sharp fangs poke at the blood, a show of desperation for you.

“(Name), you…” she muttered, voice breathy. With each moment, her desire for you soared. Her mind was an echoing mess, only telling her one thing.

Claim them. Take them. Do not let go.

—

The second time she got close to you outside of work, you were alone once again. This time, though it was a bit late at night, you decided to sort through the haphazardly-placed medicine bottles, just so it would not add to the hassle of tomorrow. Mind-numbing would be an understatement, and you ended up daydreaming as you sorted the glass containers in the correct order with the aid of muscle memory.

As you were lost in your own thoughts, there was a slight creak from the door, and you call for your visitor without even thinking.

“Is it an emergency? I will have to ask you to come back tomorrow, otherwise,”

Your voice were tinged a bit with exhaustion. The day has almost ended, and if you could help it, you would rather not have additional work.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” a familiar voice spoke, each word accompanied with a cold breath on your ears. One hand snaked around your waist, another creeping up your neck to tilt your head to the side. A pair of needle-sharp fangs was grazing your neck, hovering to search for that sweet spot.

“Oak, you—“

“Shh, (Name), there is nothing to be afraid of,” she cut you off with a reassuring voice. “You’re in good hands.”

You could feel her smirk against your skin, her warm breaths, full of anticipation, fanned your trembling body. Even with your struggle, in hopes to at least have your captor in your field of vision, yet the iron grip of the pale arm circling your wrist remained. Your scream died into a soundless gasp as she sank her fangs onto the tender spot on your collarbone, followed by throbbing pain in tune with your panicked heartbeat. Though adrenaline flowed throughout your body, your limbs felt leaden, frozen in place, locking your attention towards the spot where your captor’s lips connected with your shoulders.

“Does it hurt?” She whispered as she retracted her fangs, her tongue swirling a loving pattern on the puncture wounds. “It’ll be all better soon.”

At first, there was only pain, soothed partway by the way she blew cold air over the throbbing wound. Yet, with each passing second, the pain faded, changing in tune with your panicked heartbeat into a pit of yearning. Your legs felt wobbly, supported only by her body pressed flush against yours, and you were unable to muster any form of protest as she directed you towards the bed. Now, with her on top of you, even the darkness was not enough to conceal the unbidden desire swirling in her soul, shining through mismatched eyes with intensity enough to devour everything alive.

“I’ve been waiting for this chance. You were always so cautious, so afraid of me and most of the other Sinners,” she breathed out, one hand grasping your face, her thumb stroking your cheek, “and now, you truly are mine.”

You bit your lip down as another jolt of desire racked your body, a shudder running down your spine and gathering straight at your sensitive bud. You felt as if your body were set aflame from the inside, venom melting you from within and preparing you for your predator’s feast. Oak only smiled at your state, pink tongue darting out to lick her lips, cleaning traces of your blood.

“Let me help you, then. Consider this as a thank you.”

One hand held your wrists above your head, and the other reached down to your pants, pulling the fabric down to expose your drenched panties. One touch of her fingertip, even through the ruined fabric, was enough to send your mind into overdrive, desperation ridding your addled thoughts from all thoughts of survival. With just a twitch, you felt the edges of your vision turning white.

“Do you feel it? The desire pierced into your soul, now spilling out from here?” She asked, giving the bite wound another lick, fangs grazing upon the spot again. “Should you desire relief, you need only ask~“

“Ask? How dare—“

Again, she did not let you finish as her fingers explored deeper, pushing the soaked panties aside and exposing your bare sex to the cold air. Her movements were restrained, though her twitching fingers all but signaled that it took all her willpower to even prepare you for her. She added in another finger soon after, scissoring motions pressing on your walls without a rhythm.

From her quick movements, it was clear that it took everything in her to restrain her own lust, let alone give you consideration in this twisted act of passion. The worst part was that despite how wild and selfish this mockery of love was, her attempt to fan the flames burning on your stomach was working, your desire climbing higher as pleased noises began to spill out from your lips, your voice calling for Oak’s name in half-formed syllables. One spot made your toes curl, your high pitched voice bitten down in a half-hearted attempt to not allow her the satisfaction, yet you could tell your attempt have all but failed, and every so often, she made it a point to brush the sensitive spot with a teasing smile that reminded you of a cat batting its dying prey.

Kisses were trailed down all over your body, the hand holding your wrists now gliding down towards your torso. You thought it was a chance to fight back, yet, a slow, agonizing, pleasurable lick at the bite wound and a simple command to stop was enough to statue your body into perfect obedience. The black nail on her index finger sharpened into a claw for just a moment, enough to split your clothing, allowing her access to mark your neck, down to your shoulders and the valley of your breasts.

She swirled her tongue on a nipple, and the nub hardened as if on command, the cold making it even more sensitive. Her fangs stopped at your chest, right where your beating heart is, then she bit down, licking the wound just as you started to get lightheaded. At the same time, you finally tipped over the edge, and your vision whited out as you came all over her fingers.

With an embarassing squelch, she pulled out both of her fingers, and she stared at you in the eyes as her tongue cleaned your slick.

The flames in your belly have started to settle a bit, but saying this would be enough is nothing short of a blatant lie.

Oak gave you a knowing smile and got off you. However, as you were about to sigh in relief, you saw her take off her panties, letting the fabric fall on the floor. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the fabric was soaked, as well, juices glistening under the dim light of the room.

“What an insatiable thrall,” she said in a chastising tone, a contrast to her mischievous smile, “then, you wouldn’t mind helping me out as well, hm?”

She stopped your protest once again - her cunt resting so close to your face. Then, there was a nip in your inner thigh, the familiar piercing sensation from her fangs, then the pain fading into a mounting pleasure that all but erased your previous fatigue. Loathe as you are to admit it, you were once again forced to feel pleasure, her tongue licking your puncture wounds to soothe it before resting flat on your folds.

“What do they usually say… Ah, right, a favor for a favor.”

To emphasize her words, she grinded her cunt on your face, enveloping you in her scent. A wordless suck on your aching bud became your cue to start, your tongue tracing sloppy patterns on her folds. Your efforts did not go unrewarded, as she matched your speed, and even her breaths on your wet heat was a strong enough stimulation to make your hips buck towards her, your thighs enveloping her head to draw more friction, give more fuel to the creeping sensitivity that had enveloped your entire body once again.

As you sped up, calling her name in between breathes that smelled like her, you finally tip over the edge. Though your climax did not hit you with the same sheer force as the first one, you were forced to feel every moment of it, and the clear liquid gushing forth from your twisted lover’s climax soon after became a reminder of your current state. Your face was practically drenched, and you were frozen, perhaps both from exhaustion and mortification, as she licked your juices clean from between your thighs.

She finally shifted off you, swiping her own slick from your face with her thumb with the care of a loving partner. She licked her own thumb soon after, and the last thing you hear, just before your vision went dark, was her promise.

“I will see you again soon, (Name).”

—

The third time you met her, you were sleep-deprived, nightmares filling the dark every time you closed your eyes.

Ever since that encounter, you had begged at your superior to allow you a transfer, preferably somewhere you wouldn’t have to deal with Sinners aside from a need-to-know basis. Though your request was granted, you quickly discover that your mind has betrayed you, images of that encounter replaying in a loop, giving you a restless sleep that left you wanting the next day. Your body and mind seem to have all but betrayed you, conjuring a burning need for someone that was more than content to keep you, if not as a lover, as a thing to satisfy her own twisted desires.

You had fallen asleep, once again, though at least your luck allowed you to keep your wits until the last few minutes of your work.

As your eyes fluttered open, your gaze met Oak’s mismatched eyes, and it took everything you have to not kick and shout like a wild animal. You two were in a dark, narrow place, and your arms brushed wooden walls as you try to move.

She was pinning you down with an almost embarassing ease.

“Are you avoiding me?”

The question was asked with a relaxed lilt and a smile, not much different from a dear friend asking about the weather.

“What did you do to me?” The question slipped out from your lips before you could stop yourself, venom all but spilling from your tone.

“It was a simple thing, really. Have you never heard of the undead being capable of creating thralls?” She smiled, full of victory as she pressed the spot where her fangs sunk into you for the very first time. “I told you, you were mine now, yet you still refuse me.”

She stroked your hair in what was, perhaps, meant to be a comforting gesture, and to your horror, it all but worked, as you closed your eyes from the comfort.

“But now, there is no need to worry. We will have plenty of time to get to know each other, after all~“

[ineadhyn]

Fic master post

Cinnamon Sugar

Raphael x Haarlep, ongoing

When Raphael meets a punk in indecent clothing in the elevator of his office building he has no clue that this encounter will change his life. Haarlep who barely makes a living with Onlyfans gladly jumps on the opportunity to become this hot older man's sugar baby. The hierarchy should be clear and also that it's unthinkable to develop deeper feelings. They both know that - but playing by the rules was never Haarlep's strong suit.

Direct from Hell Logistics

Raphael x Haarlep, completed

Raphael managed to get himself killed by Tav and got sent to our world as a punishment where he is forced to work as a delivery man. His struggles with all things mortal (like toothbrushes) are amplified by Haarlep pretending to be his supervisor.

Its sequel: Direct to Heaven Logistics, ongoing

Copper hearts

Astarion x Tav (original character), completed

Retired bandit king Francys just wanted to spend a relaxed afternoon in Baldur's Gate with his daughter when the Mindflayers attacked. Alone and tadpoled he awakens on an unknown beach. Soon he meets a certain vampire spawn just as experienced in stealing and deceiving as himself.

Despite being unhappy about the other rogue's company, Astarion desperatly seeks protection. Francys however has long given up on caring for anyone but his daughter.

Astarion's backstory:

Dust and Ash - Astarion's time in the tomb and the night he got freed

Thou shalt know that thou art mine - Cazador develops a deep obsession with Astarion and shows it in the worst way possible. Non-con, dead dove, cazstarion.

Circus of the dead - Dark circus au, non-con, cazstarion, dead dove, mind the tags

Smut one shots:

His consort, his god - Ascended Astarion x soon to be god Gale

An Archduke's Bliss - Raphael, Haarlep, named dragonborn Durge threesome

Reading hour - Tav x Archduchess

A special gift - Haarlep has a surprise for Raphael

A song of snow and embers - sapphic foursome, Alfira x Karlach x Lae'zel x Shadowheart

Her body. Her choice - Haarlep x lesbian Tav

At her mercy - Karlach x fem Durge

Nature's most beloved treasure - Halsin x trans masc Tav

Comedy/Crackfic

Mizort(r)ash SFW - Villains complaining about loot goblin Tav

Mizo(r)trash NSFW - same as above, but Mizora and Gortash fuck

The tyrant, the bat and the wardrobe - Gortash and Cazador share a shoe closet

A day in the House of Hope - daily shedules of Korilla, Raphael and Haarlep

Addition: #a day in the life of a bg3 villain should take you to all the shedules I posted on tumblr

[theharrowing]

The Ghost of You on My Skin

Jungkook and Jimin travel to a remote island in hopes that the trip will allow them to unwind and reconnect. When their plans turn on them and they wind up lost in the woods, they seek refuge with a mysterious stranger who opens their eyes to a world of desire beyond anything they have experienced before.

🐍 Jungkook x Jimin x Yoongi 🐍 word count: 11k 🐍 established relationship, strangers to lovers, monster fucker au, a hint of angst, smut, pwp, fluff, poly, slash, nsfw, 21+ 🐍 warnings: 🕊 dead dove! fear kink! slight pain kink! vore simulation! shapeshifting, vampire biting & sucking, werewolf attacking & fucking, snake swallowing & double-dick fucking, tentacle fucking. top yoongi, bottom jungkook & jimin, being overwhelmed and overstimulated, oral & anal sex, spit-roasting, subspace, threesome, mild dubcon bc yoongi uses magic to calm them, jungkook & jimin bicker a bit to set up the incredibly flimsy plot. 🐍 notes: the monster fucking in this fic gets intense at times, but it is all an illusion, and everyone comes out of it safely. nobody's blood is drained, and the vore is completely simulated. still, if topics like blood and claustrophobia make you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this one. it's tagged as dead dove so the warnings are taken seriously, but this is pretty tame compared to other fics i have with that warning. 🐍 written for the YoonMinKook Fest! 🐍 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading!   🐍 posted jan. 2023; nov. 2022 on ao3 | read on ao3

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Jimin asks sheepishly.

The crunch of dry leaves and twigs falls silent as Jeongguk stops in his tracks and glances around, then back at his map—nothing looks familiar or correct. Beside him, Jimin shivers with the neck of his sweater pulled up to his ears. A wave of frustration washes over Jeongguk, and he lets out a heavy sigh.

"No," Jeongguk says simply. "The map the guide gave us said to go down this path—the same path we walked earlier—but nothing looks right."

"It's already getting late," Jimin mutters beside him, and Jeongguk bites his tongue. He knows it is getting late—he can see with his own two eyes that the sun has set and it is getting dark. He hates himself for feeling adventurous enough to return to the secluded part of the sea that he and Jimin had found earlier in the morning. He is not a teenager anymore; he should know better than to go trampling off into the woods at night. Although the guide wouldn't stop talking about how the moon looks reflected on the sea, from where they are, there may as well not be a moon at all. 

Feeling resolved to call this excursion a wash and turn back to their hotel, Jeongguk sighs and lets his arms drop to his sides. "Let's just go back," he mutters, defeated.

So go back they do, down the winding forest path, the exact way they came. Only, as they reach what should be the end of the forest line, Jeongguk slowly passes the flashlight from left to right, realizing they are not where they should be. The trees are just as dense, and nothing looks familiar. Panic rises, but he breathes through it and attempts to get his bearings. 

"Something is wrong, isn't it?" Jimin asks meekly from beside him.

"I don't...quite know..." Jeongguk mutters, words fading to ash as he glances ahead and notices, in the near distance, a rectangular light shining between trees. A house. Jeongguk has spotted a house. 

Jeongguk knows that the clearing should be to the right, but the house is just off to the left. As if pulled by some invisible string, Jeongguk begins to walk in the direction of the light.

"Wait," Jimin says as Jeongguk feels one of Jimin's hands wrap around his wrist. "That house wasn't there before, was it? Or have we gone the wrong way?"

Jeongguk sighs, feeling his patience wearing thin. It is cold and dark and he just wants to lie down in a bed. "There is only one path, Jimin," he says between his teeth. "How could we have gone the wrong way?"

"I—" Jimin begins, and Jeongguk turns to him, pulling in a slow, deep breath, feeling a fire blaze in his eyes—he is ready to absolutely explode. But then Jimin shrugs and continues, "I don't know. You're right. I don't understand what's going on."

Another sigh, and Jeongguk continues down the path toward the house. If they truly are lost in the woods, then the house is their best bet. Jeongguk feels a strange sense of calm as they get closer—as if suddenly, they are safe, and all the worries they had moments ago have been lifted, inviting them to take shelter. 

Jeongguk steps on a particularly large stick, and the loud snap pulls him from his reverie, making Jimin squeak a high-pitched sound. 

"Fuck," Jimin mutters under his breath. "I hate this. This is how horror films start."

"This is how they start?" Jeongguk responds with a chuckle. "We came to vacation on a remote island where we are forced to speak in broken English. We were already traversing the realm of how horror movies start."

Jimin giggles beside Jeongguk—a sound that Jeongguk is surprised to hear. It is light and sweet and makes him smile. Despite his frustration, Jeongguk does not mean to have a short fuse with Jimin. Jimin is simply there, in the wake of the storm that is Jeongguk's ebbing and flowing moods. In fact, Jimin's presence is helping to keep Jeongguk grounded, if only a little. 

"Let's just see who lives in the house," Jeongguk suggests, turning to Jimin, who gazes at him with wide, loving eyes. 

"Sounds good."

"If they seem creepy or weird, we'll get the hell out of there and just...I don't know..." Jeongguk glances around at the seemingly never-ending forest, "...run."

Jimin nods, and Jeongguk leads the way. The hand on Jeongguk's wrist slides down to his hand, and they lock fingers, holding one another tightly as they traverse uneven ground, despite the path laid before them. Jeongguk wonders when the last time the occupant of the house has come out to clear the brush. 

A sound causes them to halt in their paths. A deep woman's voice, sad sounding and drawling out something long and loud, which Jeongguk can't quite make out—anguished cries. Then, the sound of a guitar joins the voice, and Jeongguk realizes it's music. Jeongguk does not understand the voice—surmises that it must be in Spanish—and worries, suddenly, that the person in the house may not understand them at all. 

Still, onward, they trudge, and Jeongguk feels hope bloom in his chest. Something about this just seems to be right, like this is precisely where they are meant to be. Which, Jeongguk realizes, is an absolutely ridiculous way to feel. He reasons that he is still jet-lagged and exhausted, and desperate for warmth. 

They approach the front of the small house—which, now that they are closer, seems more like a cabin. Jeongguk hesitates before walking up the short wooden steps to the front door. When he knocks, the door gives and creeks open, and Jeongguk is met with an enticing smell of baked pastries—possibly an apple pie—and the scent of burning logs. 

A deep, raspy voice calls, "Por favor, pasen adelante. Están en su casa."

Jeongguk pauses, fist still raised from knocking, but arm feeling weak as it hovers in the air. He does not understand what the occupant of the house is saying, and fear rises as he turns to Jimin. 

"I didn't understand."

Jimin shakes his head. "I didn't either."

"Please, come in," the voice calls again, this time in perfect Korean. Jeongguk gasps and turns back to the ajar door with wide eyes as the voice continues, "This is your home."

Jeongguk swallows a lump in his throat, feeling uncertain. "I—"

Just then, a cold gust of wind blows, chilling Jeongguk to the bone. Instinctively, he steps forward, past the threshold, seeking shelter. Jimin follows behind him, and as they shuffle into the entrance, the door closes. 

The light is dim, and although there is still music playing in the background, it is far quieter than it was when they approached from outside. There is a warmth coming from a crackling hearth to the right, and to the left, standing near a small wooden table just barely large enough to seat four, is a man. 

Jeongguk feels stunned, gazing upon the man, who simply stands and smiles back at them. His skin is pale as a sheet, and his long, tousled curly black hair rests in his eyes, falling to his ears and to his shoulders. Despite being obstructed by a tangle of hair, the man's eyes are dark and piercing, resembling those of a wild feline. His nose is small and round, and his lips—full and soft—are turned up into a grin. 

"Welcome, friends," the man says. "My name is Yoongi. I hope you haven't been lost for too long."

Yoongi wears all black, and the fabric is flowing and light, hanging loosely and not of any style that Jeongguk is familiar with. It is almost as if fabric is simply draped over his form with nary a rhyme or reason, in strips and swathes. 

"What language were you speaking earlier?" Jimin asks.

Jeongguk turns to find Jimin looking just as mesmerized by Yoongi as he is. There is something about the man. An aura of sorts, perhaps—Jeongguk can't put his finger on it. When he turns back to Yoongi, the man takes a seat at the small, square wooden table. In the center of the table is a large bottle of soju and warm hand pies that smell like apples and cinnamon. Jeongguk blinks heavily and looks around. 

"I don't remember those being there when we came in," Jeongguk mutters, mostly to himself.

"It's what you wanted, no?" Yoongi asks sweetly, with a cock of his head. 

Jeongguk licks his lips and swallows. It is what he wanted—soju to take the edge off and help him relax after whatever the fuck has just transpired, leading them to this home, and warm apple pie, a comfort food that has calmed Jeongguk since he was a child. The pies are more like pancakes with a rich, warm filling, reminiscent of the very ones he ate growing up, and Jeongguk resists the urge to reach for one. 

"Please," Yoongi says, motioning to the items on the table. "Help yourselves." 

Jimin wastes no time grabbing the soju and pouring a glass, and something inside Jeongguk lurches, causing him to reach out for Jimin's arm and stop him mid-pour. Jimin angles the bottle upward to stop the flow of liquid, splashing some on the table.

"Jimin, wait. What are you doing?"

"I'm thirsty," Jimin states, eyebrows raised and annoyed. "We've had a long fucking day, I've had you barking at me as if I'm a child, and now I want a drink."

Jimin yanks his arm from Jeongguk's grasp, which Jeongguk loosens to prevent more of a mess from being made, and he stares at Jimin's profile as he returns to pouring himself a glass. Then, Jimin pours a second glass, sets the bottle down, and shoves it toward Jeongguk.

"I didn't mean to talk to you like you're a child," Jeongguk mutters, feeling guilty and defeated. He has been copping an attitude with Jimin, lately, but he can't admit the fault so easily. 

"Just drink," Jimin says, holding his glass out to Jeongguk, who sighs and picks his up, tapping it gently on Jimin's in a silent toast—something they always do. 

"Sorry," Jimin says, turning to Yoongi, still holding his glass toward Jeongguk. "I'm so rude! I didn't offer you any!"

Yoongi shakes his head and waves his hands in the air. "I don't drink."

Jimin nods and gulps back his soju, but Jeongguk hesitates. Why does Yoongi have soju if he doesn't drink? And how does Yoongi speak perfect Korean and Spanish, and live in a cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere? Jeongguk turns to Yoongi with the intent to ask him one of a myriad of questions that flood him at once, but Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest and winks at Jeongguk, and suddenly, his mind is clear, and he doesn't feel like inquiring. 

Sure, the circumstances are strange—to say the least—but he is warm and safe, and he shouldn't worry so much. He can get to know Yoongi in due time; he has all the time in the world. Jeongguk knows this thought process, and the sudden sense of calm is strange, but he sits at the table and drinks back the soju. 

The flavor is slightly sweet, and the chill is just right. Jeongguk glances at the label on the bottle, which looks vaguely familiar but not like any brand he can place. He nearly reaches for it, when Yoongi sets plates of hand pies in front of the two of them.

"Eat. You'll need your strength."

Again, Jimin doesn't hesitate. 

Jeongguk feels a sense of trepidation, but as he gazes back at Yoongi, it all washes away. It feels as if he is put under some spell—still able to have free will, but with a loss of the fight or flight instincts necessary to make rational, wise decisions. Another glance at Jimin shows him sitting back in his chair with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. He hums happily, then opens his eyes to gaze lovingly at Yoongi.

"It tastes just like mother makes. You're incredible."

A pang of jealousy hits Jeongguk in the gut, and he reaches for his hand pie, feeling a bit sullen. There was a time when the stars in Jimin's eyes shone that brightly for him. When did they begin to dim? He supposes that is the way of relationships; you get comfortable, and you stop feeling all the heart stopping, raw emotions you once felt. 

That is, after all, what this vacation is for. To reconnect. To remember why they fell in love in the first place. This trip is meant to bring the two of them back together. Jeongguk wonders if the chance has already passed, entirely. 

Distantly, whatever song is on breaks Jeongguk out of his thoughts, and he realizes that the voice is singing in Korean. He wonders when it changed. 

Jeongguk barely registers that he has picked up the pie until he takes a bite, breaking the warm, soft dough to reveal a sweet, slightly bitter baked apple inside. He closes his eyes to revel in the moment, taking in a deep breath as he slowly chews, savoring the flavors. It does taste just like his mother used to make. 

"What brings the two of you here?" Yoongi asks, and Jeongguk looks up from the pie in his hands—which is, at present, shoved in his mouth. He huffs out air as if to speak, but stops himself when he realizes no words can make it past the pastry.

"A couples retreat," Jimin supplies, sounding much more cheery than he had when he was pouring soju. "We needed a break from the real world to reconnect, and one of Jeongguk's coworkers recommended the resort on this island."

Yoongi smiles and sits forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands. "And you found yourselves here."

Jeongguk swallows and takes a sip of soju, then nods. "The man working at the resort gave us a map and told us to venture through the forest to find a deserted beach. We had done so earlier in the day, but when we came back at night, everything seemed...different."

"Shifted," Yoongi says, and Jeongguk nods, feeling a hint of unease that quickly dissipates. "Yes, it does that."

Jeongguk's arms drop, wrists hitting the wooden table. "It...does that?"

Yoongi hums. "It was searching for me; recalibrating until it led you here."

Jeongguk's mouth forms the word what, but no sound comes out. After all, the woods did change around them. The path shifted and brought them straight to this house. It doesn't make any sense at all, but he knows that it is the truth, because there is no other way to explain them getting lost on such a short, easy-to-navigate route. 

"Why?" Jimin asks sweetly. 

A smirk tugs on Yoongi's lips as he cocks an eyebrow, glancing from Jimin to Jeongguk. "Perhaps the woods felt like you needed me."

Jeongguk's breath hitches. "N-need you?"

Yoongi hums. "I am an ancient being. A harbinger of desire. And tonight, if you let me, I can open your eyes to things you could never possibly experience in the human realm. Once I am finished with you, your bond with one another will be tighter than you could ever imagine."

Despite the urge to chuckle and dismiss what Yoongi is saying, there is an earnestness in his voice that Jeongguk trusts. Or, perhaps, he really is under a spell. 

"You've done something to us," Jeongguk manages to blurt, lilting at the end as if to beg a question.

"I have," Yoongi responds. "It's faint, and it doesn't fully take away your free will, but you are charmed to feel calm, and to not be afraid."

"I like it," Jimin says, and Jeongguk turns to find Jimin's cheeks rosy and his soju cup empty. 

Jeongguk faintly nods his head—a slow, shallow motion. He likes it, too. Despite wanting to feel upset about having his instincts dulled, he enjoys the lightness it brings him. 

"So," Jeongguk says, setting his half-eaten pie onto the plate before him. He picks up his soju and takes a sip, swallowing slowly enough to detect minute changes in the taste, as if it is adjusting itself to taste like every flavor Jeongguk likes most. "You're a god of desire. What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means I can shift objects and the environment inside this cabin into precise things which you desire," Yoongi says simply. He nibbles on his lower lip, adding, "Including myself."

"That's how you speak Korean," Jimin mutters, and Yoongi nods. 

"And that's why you look like...that," Jeongguk says. 

There is no doubt that Yoongi is the perfect blend of an ideal man for both Jimin and Jeongguk. His height and stature are similar to Jimin's, and he has an almost feminine beauty to him that draws Jeongguk. And he is muscular, with large hands and piercing eyes—traits Jeongguk has no doubt Jimin is fawning over. 

"Yes," Yoongi responds. "The desire from the two of you combined created—" Yoongi motions at himself with both hands moving from beside his head, to his hips, and back up. "—this."

"And you expect us to fuck you," Jeongguk responds as his eyes wander over Yoongi's form. 

Yoongi stands and places his palms down on the table, and although he is not that tall, Jeongguk feels small—towered over. "I don't expect anything. But you will fuck me. I can feel how badly you want it." Yoongi's eyes flit to Jimin as he adds, "Especially him."

"Can you shift into a werewolf?" Jimin blurts out, and Yoongi snickers as he says, "I can."

Jeongguk feels taken aback and turns to his boyfriend with his mouth agape. "A werewolf?"

Jimin simply shrugs, looking intoxicated and blissful. "I read a lot of fanfic, okay. I don't want to be scented and all that; not like a/b/o. I just want to hear him growl like a monster and feel the knot when he cums."

Stunned and speechless, and completely lost to any of what Jimin just said, Jeongguk stares at him in disbelief. Then, he snaps out of it and drinks back the rest of his soju, feeling resolute. "If you get a werewolf, then I want a vampire."

Jimin gasps and turns to Jeongguk with wide eyes. "Let him drink your blood!"

Perhaps Jeongguk should be embarrassed by the quickness at which arousal floods his senses and rushes to his cock from the thought of vampire Yoongi drinking his blood, but he feels at peace with his kink. Jeongguk looks up at Yoongi, whose upper cuspid teeth sharpen and elongate before his eyes, and he lets out a very horny sigh. Never has he wanted something so badly in his life. 

Yoongi turns his attention to Jimin and looks over him with his eyes, and—as if his gaze could physically touch someone—Jimin swoons and runs his hands through his dark brown hair. When Yoongi turns his attention back to Jeongguk, his eyes are shining bright red.

"You can't even begin to imagine how badly he wants to watch me fuck you," Yoongi says as he rounds the table, toward Jeongguk. 

Yoongi's clothing seems to have shifted into a ruffled satin shirt tucked into black trousers that are tight around the waist and ankles but loose around the legs. A stereotypical vampire costume, Jeongguk surmises, and he is thrilled with how the trousers hug Yoongi's hips and groin, accentuating a very impressive package. But, of course, it is, Jeongguk thinks, because Yoongi is built to the specifications that the two of them desire. 

Jeongguk turns to Jimin and is surprised by how blown out his pupils are—by how his mouth hangs open and he breathes heavily. Jeongguk knows this look; he can practically feel the lust coming from Jimin, himself. 

Slowly, Jimin saunters over, hips swishing teasingly. He wears a hoodie and sweatpants because that is what they decided would be appropriate attire for trudging to a beach at which they planned to skinny dip under the full moon, late at night. Still, beneath the bulky black cotton is a taut, muscular frame that brings Jeongguk to his knees, and as he watches Jimin sink down to the hardwood floor on his, Jeongguk breathes in a shaky inhale.

Jimin's small hands rub up Jeongguk's thighs, and his fingers tuck beneath the waistband of his matching black sweatpants, and Jimin slowly begins to tug the garment free. Jeongguk stares down into Jimin's eyes and feels affection burst and bloom in his chest, and all at once, he feels enveloped by love.

In a flash, Yoongi is in Jeongguk's immediate periphery, and suddenly, Yoongi's hands are on Jeongguk's shoulder and neck, drawing him close. Terror quakes through Jeongguk, and he flinches and attempts to step back, but Yoongi mutters, "Not so fast," and Jeongguk feels paralyzed. 

Before him, Jimin pulls Jeongguk's pants lower, past his cock, and lower, still, to his knees. Jeongguk attempts to open his hands—tries flexing his fingers—but aside from faint, minute movements, he is stuck in place.

"I have to allow you to feel a little fear if this vampire fantasy is to be believed," Yoongi rasps, lips dragging over Jeongguk's ear and sending a shiver down his spine. "I need your blood to pump quickly, so that when I feast, it will take no time at all to drain you bone-dry."

There is a part of Jeongguk that wants to scream and beg for mercy—demand a new fantasy. But the rest of him shivers with anticipation and need, dizzying him with adrenaline. Jimin's warm, wet tongue slides from the base of Jeongguk's cock, up to the tip, and a shiver quakes up Jeongguk's spine, forcing him to whimper. 

"Wh-why me?" Jeongguk asks desperately, playing the part of the distressed damsel. 

Plush lips engulf Jeongguk's cock at the same time Yoongi drags his nose across Jeongguk's neck, ghosting warm breath over his skin. Each word punctuates and becomes more insidious as Yoongi growls, "Because you smell...so...good."

Two sharp fangs pierce Jeongguk's neck, and he screams bloody murder. The pain is agonizing—beyond anything Jeongguk has ever felt before—hot and intense and persistent. Jeongguk's knees buckle, but he cannot fall while under Yoongi's spell, and instead hangs in the balance of paralysis while Yoongi continues to slowly sink his fangs deeper. 

In one swift movement, Jimin deepthroats Jeongguk's cock, and somehow the pleasure feels so elevated, Jeongguk wonders if his brain might snap and crumble to dust. Yoongi retracts his fangs and sucks at the wound while Jimin slurps Jeongguk's length loudly, and Jeongguk trembles—overwhelmed and dragged to hell from pleasure—as he cums down Jimin's throat with a desperate, broken groan.

"That fast?" Yoongi teases as his tongue flicks over the puncture wounds. Jeongguk shudders, and this time his knees do buckle, and he falls to the floor, caught haphazardly by Jimin, who smiles brightly with spit-slick lips. 

Jeongguk looks up at Yoongi, whose chin is covered in blood, then brings a hand quickly to his neck. Although the skin feels damp, the moisture doesn't feel thick like blood, and Jeongguk holds his hand in front of his face, shocked to find there is only saliva. When he looks back at Yoongi, the man is grinning and shifting—his limbs becoming longer, thicker, hairier. He is turning into a werewolf, just for Jimin. 

Jimin is on his feet quickly, backing away from where they sat. A feeling of horror surges through Jeongguk as Yoongi surges toward Jimin, and he scrambles to his feet, shedding his pants from around his ankles and pulling his sweater over his head in one swift movement as werewolf Yoongi traps Jimin. Jeongguk can barely make out the look on Jimin's face, but his eyes and posture say he is afraid.

"My, darling what big teeth I have," Yoongi growls—deep and ferocious, like a wild beast.

Jimin's voice cracks as he says, "All the b-better to eat me with," and Yoongi chuckles.

"That's right, little one."

All at once, Jimin is screaming at the top of his lungs while shreds of black fabric are flying in all directions. Jeongguk knows that this is all part of the game—that Jimin is in no real danger, but the sound of his voice sets off alarm bells, causing Jeongguk to hop up onto one of the chairs to get a better look. 

Jimin stands with what was once a sweatshirt and pants hanging in tatters from his neck and hips, and Yoongi spins Jimin around, shoving him into a corner that sticks out into the room, while crouching on his hands and knees behind him. Without a word, Yoongi takes Jimin's ass in his massive, hairy hands and spreads his cheeks wide, then licks a stripe over his hole. A loud, desperate moan falls from Jimin's lips, and he trembles as he leans into the edge of the wall. 

"Naughty boy isn't wearing any panties," Yoongi growls between lapping his tongue over Jimin's entrance. 

"Ahh—easy access," Jimin whimpers as Jeongguk watches Yoongi's long, beastly tongue plunge deep into Jimin's hole. 

Jeongguk crawls down from the chair slowly, wanting to be part of the action but still afraid of Yoongi in werewolf form, despite knowing the man is just trying to fulfill their fantasies. As he approaches, Yoongi morphs one hand from the monstrous, sharp-nailed hairy hands to one that looks just like his own. He removes his tongue and presses one long, knobby finger into Jimin's ass, and as Jimin's back bows and he lets out a delicious strangled sob, Jeongguk nearly melts to the floor.

"F-fuck," Jimin whimpers, "how did you—I didn't hear a lube bottle."

Yoongi sucks a dark hickey into Jimin's asscheek and lets the skin go with a pop. "I'm an ancient being, brought here to become anything you desire. You didn't think I wouldn't have self-lubricating fingers, did you?"

Jeongguk drops to his knees and crawls toward Jimin, who lets a hand slide from the wall, which he holds out to Jeongguk. "Here to suck my dick, Ggukie?" he asks in a deep, breathy tone.

"Of course I am, baby," Jeongguk mutters as he opens his mouth wide and lets Jimin shove two fingers down his throat, pressing on his tongue to make his muscles contract and his eyes water. 

Jimin pulls his spit-coated fingers from Jeongguks lips and adjusts against the wall just enough to stick his cock out and slap Jeongguk across the lips as he gets into position. Yoongi must be working magic on Jimin because he lets out another deep whine and his legs tremble.

"Open up, Ggukie," Jimin groans, and Jeongguk does as he's told, laying his tongue flat. 

Jimin's cock has a heady, salty taste from the precum that dribbles from its tip, and Jeongguk sucks it deep into his throat, swallowing around it with a moan. Jimin whimpers and gasps, rutting into Jeongguk's mouth, and Jeongguk adjusts to the desire to gag and breathes slowly through his nose. 

"Do you want to watch as I fuck your pretty boyfriend?" Yoongi asks with a deep growl. 

And Jeongguk does—he really does—but Jimin grips onto his hair tightly and shoves his cock so far into Jeongguk's throat that all he can do is focus on keeping a flow of oxygen in his lungs and blood. 

"Don't stop, Ggukie," Jimin whines, and Jeongguk does as he is told, relaxing his throat as best as he can—anything to be a good boy.

Fingers come into view on Jimin's hip—long, hair fingers with thick yellowed nails that dig into Jimin's soft skin—and Jimin throws his head back and moans loudly as his body begins to tremble against the wall. Jeongguk can't see what is happening with Jimin's cock lodged in his throat, but he can feel how Jimin quakes from being entered by the monster behind him. 

One thing Jeongguk knows is that Jimin will not last. Granted, Jimin likely won't cum in a heartbeat the way he did, but he tends to cum fast the first time, then take a while chasing his second high, which is usually quite euphoric. Jimin's hips have stilled completely, hand tight around Jeongguk's hair but more as a means to keep himself steady than to keep Jeongguk's mouth in place. 

"Your boyfriend is so tight, holy fuck," Yoongi growls.

Jeongguk curses Yoongi for being in tune with what he desires, because of course the humiliation of being told how good his boyfriend feels by the stranger whose cock is buried inside him is definitely making the blood rush to his erection. 

"Don't you wish it was you fucking him," Yoongi continues to tease. 

Jeongguk sucks in hard, pulling a deep, strangled moan from Jimin's throat, and then he pulls his head back, letting Jimin's cock slip from between his lips, covered in saliva that connects in streaks from the tip to Jeongguk's lips. 

"Nah," Jeongguk rasps, "I've fucked him plenty. He's all yours."

"Shut the fuck up," Jimin whines as he grips Jeongguk's hair harder and yanks him close, face colliding with his spit-slick length. This is another thing that gets them both going—playing indifference to make the other become mean. "Suck this fucking dick," Jimin groans, and Jeongguk allows him to grind his face against his cock.

"If you insist," Yoongi groans, and he must pull out, because Jimin's hips rock, following the movement. "I'll take him, then; I'll make him all...mine."

Jeongguk turns his face in time for Yoongi to rut into Jimin hard enough to slam his erection into Jeongguk's cheek. It stings a bit, but the scream that Jimin lets out more than makes up for the discomfort, and Jeongguk reaches for Jimin's thighs and attempts to hold them in place as Yoongi sets a rough pace fucking him. 

Jimin wails like a banshee, and Yoongi growls, low, deep sounds that make Jeongguk's heart pound. The lewd slap of skin against skin echoes through the room, along with loud squelches, making Jeongguk wish he could see how wet Yoongi has made them. 

"W-won't last long," Jimin sobs between moans, and Jeongguk sits high on his knees and takes Jimin's length in one hand, slowly stroking from base to tip and making Jimin moan even louder—soft whimpers punctuated with moans that edge on screams.

"Let me know when you want my knot, little one," Yoongi growls.

Jeongguk wishes he were the one getting knotted—whatever the fuck that even means—but he has something else in mind, and he cannot wait for Jimin to cum so they can chase their next high together. 

"Please," Jimin whimpers, tugging on Jeongguk's hair. "Please, Ggukie."

Although Jeongguk would like nothing more than to taste the precum that leaks from his boyfriend's pretty dick, he knows that the second his lips are around it, it's over, and he wants Jimin to savor the feeling of being fucked into the wall by a werewolf a little while longer. Yoongi's hips are brutal, but he has both hands holding Jimin in place, making it easier for Jeongguk to eventually suck his dick without risking a broken nose. 

"C-close," Jimin whimpers as his cock slaps against his tummy, creating a sticky patch below his belly button. 

"How close, baby?" Jeongguk asks as he leans forward and nudges Jimin's cock with his nose.

Jimin whimpers and lets his forehead fall into the edge of the wall, which tells Jeongguk everything he needs to know. Jimin is overcome with lust but not so much that he is ready to beg. Jeongguk continues to nuzzle his nose against Jimin's length, letting out deep breaths against his skin, listening as Jimin's whines become pitchier and more broken—more desperate. 

"Please," Jimin finally whimpers. "Please, please."

Jeongguk licks from base to tip and smiles as he feels pleasure quake through Jimin, who continues to whimper desperate pleas, gripping Jeongguk's hair tightly in his fist while his forehead rubs against the wall. 

Yoongi slows his thrusts, and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to sit higher on his knees and suck Jimin into his throat nice and slow, pulling deep moans from him. 

"Please, please," Jimin continues to sob, over and over like a prayer.

"Does little one wish to cum?" Yoongi growls.

Jimin continues to beg—a record stuck on repeat—and Jeongguk bobs his head and sucks his cheeks in tight. Jimin quakes, voice broken, with moans coming out in pitchy sobs. Jeongguk wonders if Yoongi is knotting—or whatever the fuck Jimin said—and if it’s overwhelming. 

“Fu—aaah!” Jimin sobs as he tugs Jeongguk’s hair and cum bursts down his throat. Jeongguk gags at first, not prepared for the onslaught of rope after rope of viscous liquid hitting his tongue and the roof of his mouth, cock poking him deep enough to tickle. 

Jimin's body seems to stiffen, then he screams, “Oh fuck!” as his limb flail frantically. “It’s too much! I can’t take it, oh god, it hurts!”

Jeongguk swallows Jimin's cum and releases his cock as he looks up in surprise, assessing the situation and finding everything to look normal. He wonders if whatever is happening could have to do with Yoongi's cock, but Yoongi's hands open, fingers letting up on Jimin's hips, and Jimin sighs with relief.

"I wasn't really ripping your skin open, baby," Yoongi groans into Jimin's neck. "It's okay, you're safe." Jimin's moans become much more steady, and his eyes roll back. “What do you need, little one? No knot, or a new form?”

Jimin may as well be speaking tongues; nothing comes out that is remotely coherent. Jeongguk wonders if Yoongi’s monster cock has, in fact, expanded inside Jimin, and he rasps, voice wrecked from his throat being fucked, “He gets too sensitive after he cums; might need to stop for a bit. What about a snake-human hybrid?”

With a pleased grown, Jimin nods, cheek smooshed against the wall as he mutters, “Wrap me in a tight hug, Yoonie.”

“Anything for you, little one," Yoongi groans as his form begins to shift, hair disappearing from his skin and becoming more human-like, despite the hint of scales that begin to cover him.

Yoongi's legs become a thick tail, which wraps around Jimin's legs, lifting him away from the wall and turning him so that his body is against Yoongi's in a protective hug. 

"You too, darling," Yoongi says as his tail wraps around Jeongguk and pulls him close. 

The scale of the cabin has shifted, and Yoongi and Jimin loom tall over Jeongguk as they move into the center of the space, which is clear of all furnishings but a large mattress, that is covered in pillows and blankets. 

The feeling of Yoongi's undulating body and smooth scales is so unlike anything Jeongguk has ever felt, and he struggles to fully comprehend it, watching with wide eyes as the tail ensnares him. They settle on the mattress with Yoongi's upper half leaning against the wall and Jimin cradled against his chest, and they stay a while, silent as the warmth radiating from Yoongi's gentle but firm hold soothes them.

For a split moment, Jeongguk wonders if Yoongi is actually just some weirdo in the woods who has drugged them, and this is nothing but a strange trip. But, then again, that would not explain how they came to find this shapeshifting cabin in the first place. Somehow, the only explanation that makes sense is that Yoongi truly is some deity with otherworldly powers.

"How are you feeling, little one?" Yoongi asks as he nuzzles his gorgeous, snake-like face into Jimin's neck.

"Good," Jimin groans, and Jeongguk can hear the smile on his voice.

"Why don't you lay down and catch your breath while I fuck your pretty boyfriend, hmm?"

Jimin turns and looks down at Jeongguk with a soft smile, then nods and says, "Okay."

Jeongguk's body is shifted into place as Yoongi moves to bend and lay Jimin down on the bed. He can feel himself get coiled down Yoongi's tail, toward the tip of it. Then, he is lifted and held in the air, with his arms pinned to his sides and his feet sticking out from the bottom of Yoongi's tight grasp. 

"You're s-so pretty, I could s-s-s-swallow you whole," Yoongi hisses as he pulls Jeongguk close. Jeongguk feels his breath hitch and, suddenly, he wants nothing more. 

"Don't tease me," Jeongguk whines, jutting out his lip into a pout. 

Yoongi grins, his slit pupils turning into large disks against bright green irises, which sends a chill down Jeongguk's back. A flick of Yoongi's long, forked tongue has Jeongguk's heart pounding and his mind wandering, and he wonders if Yoongi meant it. He wonders if he will have to beg. 

Slowly, Yoongi lifts Jeongguk into the air, up above his head, then angles Jeongguk's feet toward his mouth as he flicks his tongue out to tickle the bottoms of his feet. Jeongguk flexes his toes and attempts to kick away, but Yoongi's hold is so tight, all he can do is whimper and giggle. 

"Please," Jeongguk whines. 

"Pleas-s-se, what?"

Jeongguk closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and says, "Swallow me whole."

"Oh my god," Jimin groans from the bed, "you can't say shit about me wanting werewolf dick now that I know you're into vore!"

Jeongguk groans. Vore is not something he is into; he has literally never even considered the possibility until this very moment. But, of course, Jimin will never let him live it down. 

"I'm not—it's not something I'm into, I just—leave me alone."

Jimin giggles—the light but maniacal laugh that indicates that he is up to no good, and Jeongguk does his best to relax, eyes still squeezed close as he hovers over his captor. Yoongi's tail slithers over Jeongguk's body until more of his legs are sticking out, and Yoongi's tongue travels over Jeongguk's feet and ankles, leaving moist spots of spit behind. 

"Open your eyes-s-s," Yoongi hisses. "I want you to watch while I eat you."

Jeongguk swallows a lump of nervousness as he slowly opens his eyes and angles his head to peer down at Yoongi. Even as a monster who is threatening to literally swallow him whole, Yoongi is the prettiest being Jeongguk has ever seen, and he feels himself relax and accept his fate.

Despite watching nature documentaries and knowing how snake mouths work, Jeongguk is still shocked when Yoongi opens his mouth, stretching his jaw far and wide enough to fit Jeongguk's entire body. Two large fangs stick out from Yoongi's top gums, glistening and sharp, and Jeongguk decides that—here and now—this is by far the strangest erection he has ever gotten. 

Jeongguk's toes are the first to make it into Yoongi's mouth—warm, wet and soft—and Yoongi pauses and cocks an eyebrow to Jeongguk as if to ask if this is still something he wants to do. Jeongguk nods his head despite the inkling of fear he feels. He wonders if, once again, Yoongi has lowered his spell in order to make the experience feel real. 

With each inch of Jeongguk's body that enters Yoongi's mouth, his tail slithers away, coiling and rippling against Jeongguk's skin. Once he is up to his thighs, Yoongi stops swallowing to flick his tongue out at Jeongguk's cock, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through him.

"Oh, fuck," Jeongguk whimpers as the flicks become slow, precise laves, up and down from base to tip, teasing the slit to gather the precum that dribbles out. It feels amazing, but it's not enough, and Jeongguk groans and whines from the tease. 

Somewhere, in the recesses of Jeongguk's mind, a tiny voice tells him that he will soon be dying—that this is the last thing he is ever going to experience. The faint ringing of alarm bells tells Jeongguk he should be panicking—that he should be screaming and begging for Yoongi to stop. But he feels relaxed and serene as the teasing ends, and Yoongi begins to slowly ease him into his throat. 

"Is this s-s-still something you want, pretty?" Jeongguk hears Yoongi ask, possibly inside his head, or perhaps echoing around the entire cabin.

"Yes," Jeongguk whimpers softly. "Please."

Jeongguk is eased down, to his pecs, and down further, to his shoulders. With his head sticking out and his arms pinned to his sides, Yoongi's tail falls away, and Jeongguk gazes out of the monster's mouth to his boyfriend, who lays propped on his elbows, cock resting half-hard against his tummy, and eyes wide and round.

With one more swallow, all the world does dark, and Jeongguk holds his breath on instinct as he sinks down, down, down. 

The light that comes in from Yoongi's open mouth allows Jeongguk to see the tan lining of his trachea. Jeongguk tries to breathe through his nose, and upon finding out that he can, lets out a shaky exhale. A battle rages inside Jeongguk—every nerve attempting to convince him that he is both safe from harm and in imminent danger. 

Yoongi swallows once more, sending Jeongguk further into his body, and the slide of his esophageal lining rubs against Jeongguk's cock, punching a loud moan from him as pleasure bursts. He wants to touch himself so badly—wants to chase another high and this time enjoy it for more than a few minutes—but he is stuck in position in the narrow passageway.

And now that Jeongguk is here, he realizes he has not considered a savory way out. Does he travel all the way through and get shat out, or will Yoongi vomit him up—back the way he came?

"S-s-so delicious-s," Yoongi's voice calls to Jeongguk. "What would my pretty dinner like, now?"

"Snakes have two dicks, right?" Jeongguk mutters.

Yoongi hums a sound that sounds like an agreement.

"Fuck us both," Jeongguk suggests. "A-after getting me out of here, of course."

"Do you want to come out now?" Yoongi asks. "Or would you like to feel the crushing weight of death a little more?"

"Crush me," Jeongguk responds without giving it any thought.

"S-s-slap me when you want to come out," Yoongi hisses, voice echoing around the chamber, which begins undulating up and down, sinking Jeongguk further into the tight squeeze. 

The walls of the snake's tract are wet with a texture that Jeongguk can only compare to the inside of his boyfriend's ass when he's fingering him open. Blood rushes to Jeongguk's cock, which twitches as a reminder that he is, in fact, a little freak who gets hard from the thought of being swallowed whole. Perhaps, he thinks, he would feel embarrassed if it didn't turn him on so fucking much. Or, if Yoongi weren't so non-judgmental and accommodating.

As he slides further into the belly of the beast, everything becomes too dark to see, but Jeongguk keeps his eyes open, eager not to miss something if it does come into view. His shoulders begin to ache as the walls of the snake's insides squeeze him. Somehow, still, his hands have room to move, down by his hips. Yoongi really is the master of illusion and comfort. 

The air begins to feel difficult to breathe in adequately—or, perhaps the constant pressure on his shoulders is making him panic. Jeongguk's hands flex and begin to feel around, rubbing against the slick walls that close in on him. He whimpers against his will and squeezes his eyes shut, despite finding the same darkness behind his lids. 

A rumble comes from above, much like a groan or a growl, and Jeongguk panics, sucking in his breath quickly, feeling as if his lungs might burst at any moment. He spreads his hands open and squeezes them shut, considering whether to tap out. 

But rather than trying to break free, Jeongguk first rolls his hips forward, rubbing his cock against the warm, moist, flesh. Another groan echoes around him, and Jeongguk ruts a little harder in the confined space. He wonders if Yoongi likes how it feels or if he is just playing with his food. 

Jeongguk lets his head roll back as he continues to slowly thrust against the fleshy tissues surrounding him. It feels good—far better than he imagined it might, and despite the sinking feeling that he is only sliding deeper and deeper into the never-ending beast, he continues to lazily masturbate. 

“S-s-so naughty, using me for your pleas-s-sure,” Yoongi’s voice teases. 

“Feels good,” Jeongguk groans. 

The flesh around Jeongguk quakes, vibrating against him so perfectly, and it punches a moan from inside him. But it is still not enough, and he is beginning to worry that he is leaving Jimin alone for too long. Luckily, Yoongi decides to begin squeezing and swallowing him harder and further, and the arousal is quickly replaced with panic as the flesh begins to close in around his chest and neck.

At first, Jeongguk cannot adequately move his hand, and he panics, intaking a sharp breath that feels too weak to fill his lungs. Then, he does his best to flail his arms, missing several times until finally, the flesh pulsates out and away just far enough that Jeongguk can slap the back of his hand against Yoongi's insides.

"Please!" Jeongguk croaks as his chest begins to ache from a lack of sufficient air. "Yoongi, please!" 

In a flash, light floods through Jeongguk's eyelids, and he inhales deeply, gasping loudly as the sting of oxygen works its way into his blood. He opens his eyes to find Jimin laying on his side, propped up on one elbow with his head resting in his hand and a devious grin on his face.

"Did you cum inside the snake?" Jimin asks with a hint of tease.

"No," Jeongguk rasps, throat still sore from being fucked, and even sorer from near-suffocation. 

"Ah," Jimin says, glancing down at Jeongguk's crotch. "I guess not, since your dick is still rock hard."

Jeongguk glances down to find his erection pressed against his stomach. He also notices that the tail of the snake-hybrid Yoongi is still around him, tensing and relaxing in a loose coil that circles his form. He sits on his hip with his legs bent beneath him and his arms anchoring him against the large mattress. As soon as he seems aware of his surroundings, the tail begins to tighten around him, and he turns to find the beast looming over him. 

Yoongi bends at the torso, which is human-like and pale, covered in scales that are fainter on his belly, chest and throat but darker with hints of green on his sides and arms, and along his neck and cheeks. His tongue pokes out and flicks toward Jeongguk as he bends and gazes at him with wide, bright green eyes. 

"Did my pretty dinner like the crus-s-shing feeling of being s-s-swallowed whole?" Yoongi hisses brightly, lips curving into a smirk.

"I did," Jeongguk admits. 

"You were s-s-so delicious, but there is more I want to tas-s-ste."

"Oh?" Jeongguk asks, feeling his pulse quicken. 

Without further preamble, Yoongi's tail shifts Jeongguk around, lifting him and turning him. He stumbles forward on his hands and knees, and before he can correct himself, the long, forked tongue flicks against Jeongguk's asshole, sending a burst of pleasure through him.

Jeongguk whimpers as he falls forward more, arms trembling beneath him as Yoongi continues to tongue at his hole. The quickness of the movements is little more than a tease, but the feeling is unfamiliar enough that Jeongguk keeps himself presented for more. 

Small hands push Jeongguk's hair back and lift his head, and he gasps as Jimin's beautiful face comes into view. He wears a mischievous look, and opens his mouth to speak, but Jeongguk feels suddenly so overcome with emotion, that he raises a hand to gently take Jimin by the head and pull him close. 

"Baby," Jeongguk mutters, "kiss me."

Whatever words were coming from between Jimin's perfect lips die there as Jimin leans forward and grins, giving Jeongguk access to suck and lick and moan against him. Jimin tastes like heaven—faintly sweet and perfectly like him, and Jeongguk cannot remember the last time they kissed. Maybe while they were on the beach earlier—the first time, when they made it there and back without the woods shifting around them. But certainly not during their last trudge out. And certainly not with so much passion, for quite a while.

Instead, Jeongguk has been grumpy and impatient, letting himself easily become upset with Jimin. Sweet, kind, beautiful Jimin, who never does anything but patiently allow Jeongguk to cool down and gather his thoughts. Jeongguk feels like an asshole as he pulls Jimin closer and licks against his tongue with a little more hunger. 

Yoongi's snake tongue presses inside Jeongguk, long and eager and becoming something much thicker—something that gives Jeongguk's rim a bit of a stretch. Jeongguk breaks from the kiss and moans as Yoongi tongue-fucks him. 

"You like that, baby?" Jimin asks as he nips and sucks at Jeongguk's bottom lip. "Does Yoongi make you feel good?"

Jeongguk nods in short, languid movements as Yoongi's tongue seems to expand inside him, leaking saliva—or whatever Yoongi has secreting from it—down his balls to drip on the many layers of snake tail that coil around him. 

"F-fuck us, please," Jeongguk whimpers, knowing damn well he is not stretched far enough to take a cock. 

"S-s-so impatient," Yoongi teases, voice sounding far too clear for his tongue to be working Jeongguk open—Jeongguk has to remind himself that Yoongi is, in fact, not human.

"Please," Jeongguk begs as Jimin's lips travel down his chin, to his throat and neck. "Please fuck me."

The tongue slowly pulls out of Jeongguk, and he whines, clenching around nothing and suddenly feeling so empty. The tail beneath him shifts and trails away, leaving him on his hands and knees in front of Jimin, and Jimin's lips leave ghosts of barely wet kiss marks along Jeongguk's neck, down to his clavicle, and back up. 

"Lay down beneath me, baby," Jeongguk mutters to Jimin, still in a daze from everything he has experienced. "He's a snake hybrid, so he has two dicks. I want him to fuck us both while I kiss you until your lips are swollen like raspberries."

Jimin hums, soft and sweet with a curious lilt, then repositions himself until his legs are between Jeongguk's arms and he is sliding himself beneath him. Jimin is so beautiful—angelic, almost—that Jeongguk cannot look away. How Jeongguk could ever lose his temper with someone so kind and perfect, he will never know. 

Two warm, large hands grab Jeongguk's hips and tug him back until he is in just the right position. Then slowly, gently, he feels the soft press of a blunt, lubricated cock against his ass. One of Yoongi's hands rubs up Jeongguk's back and down again, while the other gropes his ass and spreads him open. Beneath him, Jimin reaches up to gently pinch at his nipples, making Jeongguk shiver with anticipation. He can't help but wonder how he got so lucky. 

Yoongi presses forward just enough to breach Jeongguk's rim with the tip of his cock. From what he can tell, it feels human, and Jeongguk's mind attempts to wonder what snake dicks might look like before deciding it is probably horrifying, and he does not need to know. Luckily, the pain from the stretch is just present enough that Jeongguk could not, for the life of him, hold onto a fully formed, coherent thought if he tried. 

Jeongguk's head falls forward, and he leans down to nuzzle into Jimin's neck as Yoongi slowly pulls out and presses back in. Choked, broken sobs escape from between his lips with each movement, sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure through his body.

Jimin's voice is playful as he says, "You sound so pretty when he hurts you, Ggukie."

Jeongguk cannot respond—can only cry out as Yoongi presses forward again, this time much deeper than the last. His breath is hot and damp against Jimin's skin as he pants and whimpers, burying his face and resisting the urge to bite. 

"S-s-so fucking tight," Yoongi hisses as he slowly rolls his hips, dragging his cock along Jeongguk's tight walls, past each ring of muscle. "Am I hurting you, pretty human?"

Yes, Jeongguk thinks, you are. But everything feels so good, he cannot bring himself to admit it, instead moving his lips from Jimin's skin just enough to grit, "Don't stop," between his teeth. 

"Here, little one," Yoongi says, and Jimin moves his head to look at Yoongi, then reaches for something. 

Jeongguk feels as Jimin angles his hips upward, then settles, and he assumes that he just wedged a pillow beneath his ass. At this angle, their cocks are touching, and as Jeongguk begins to adjust to the stretch, his mind starts to wander to them rutting against each other while Yoongi fucks them in tandem. 

"Can you lift your legs, little one?" Yoongi asks, and Jimin hums while he wraps his legs around Jeongguk's hips and smiles brightly with wide, eager eyes. 

Yoongi adjusts behind them with one cock still inside Jeongguk, and then, as he presses forward, burying himself deeper, Jeongguk watches with delight as Jimin's face twists and contorts into pained pleasure that matches how he felt just moments ago.

"Oh, god," Jimin whimpers as his eyes squeeze shut, and Jeongguk leans forward to suck a mark against his neck, pulling even sweeter sounds from him as Yoongi's hips slowly roll to a languid but steady pace.

"Feel good, baby?" Jeongguk barely manages to ask, each syllable strained as Yoongi's cock completely intoxicates him.

Jimin hums and whines a breathy, "Uh-huh," as he grips the comforter below him tightly. 

"Hold me," Jeongguk commands, and Jimin opens his eyes and wraps his arms around Jeongguk, still appearing absolutely fucking gone but attempting to ground himself and adjust to the feeling. 

Jeongguk begins to push his hips back against Yoongi's thrusts and pull forward when Yoongi ruts back, fucking himself on Yoongi while frotting against Jimin's cock. Jimin's hips tremble and jolt with each thrust, and he whimpers and writhes beneath Jeongguk so perfectly.

"Fuck, you're amazing," Jeongguk groans as he rubs a hand over Jimin's pec and shoulder, giving his soft skin gentle squeezes. "You feel so good."

Jimin nods and whimpers, and attempts to pick his head up, muttering, "Wanna kiss you," but he appears too lost to pleasure to expend any energy. Yoongi's tail slithers beneath Jimin, lifting his head and torso, and Jimin throws his arms over Jeongguk's neck and pulls him close to slot their lips together. 

Yoongi's pace begins to quicken, but his thrusts don't slam, making it easy for Jeongguk to stay connected to Jimin's plush lips, which he sucks and kisses, just as he promised to. The feeling of being fucked while their cocks slided beside one another and Jimin holds him close with all limbs wrapped around him, is surreal, and Jeongguk feels his pleasure building quickly, threatening to devour him. He wants to cum—wants to feel Jimin cum with him—but he worries that once he does, he might not have anything left in him. He doesn't want this experience to end.

As Jeongguk nibbles and sucks on Jimin's lips, Jimin falls pliant beneath him, muttering nonsense while his grasp on Jeongguk's neck begins to loosen and fall away. Jimin slips into subspace so easily, and ordinarily, Jeongguk has to watch for cues that he needs more or less to keep him floating without overwhelming him. He has the urge to make sure Yoongi knows this—that he can take care of Jimin just as well—but he remembers that Yoongi already knows what they desire, so he tries to let go, too. 

The pace of Yoongi's thrusts slow—languid and deep—and Jeongguk gently falls forward against Jimin, burying his face in his neck to suck and kiss while he, too, begins to float off into the clouds. Jeongguk is always too hesitant to let go and experience what Jimin does—always afraid of sub-drop, never wanting to be someone else's to take care of and worry about. He wants to feel it, and, as everything becomes foggy and far away while also being intense and so close he feels enveloped by the thick, damp air, he reminds himself that Yoongi did not harm him while swallowing him alive, and he will not harm him now.

Jeongguk has no idea how long it takes before he cums, but suddenly, Jimin is whimpering and shouting beneath him, and he is pulled back to reality—if he can call whatever is happening in this cabin real at all—just in time to feel the slick of Jimin's release against his cock, making the slide of their lengths together push Jeongguk over the edge. He kisses along Jimin's neck and shoulder, head too heavy to pick up and chase after his lips, muttering nonsense about love and forever and perfect while his cock pulsates with an insane amount of cum. 

"Want you to cum too," Jimin moans with his head fallen to the side and a hand lazily reaching for Yoongi, against Jeongguk's side.

"Please," Jeongguk adds, suddenly desperate to feel Yoongi fill him. "Please, I want you to cum in me, too."

An arm wraps around Jeongguk's shoulder and pulls him up, onto his knees, and Jeongguk trembles and moans as Yoongi's cock is buried deeper, and moans again when Yoongi's face nuzzles against his. 

"You want me to fill you up, pretty one?" Yoongi groans, and Jeongguk feels every inch of his skin prickle with goosebumps. 

"Please."

Yoongi picks up his pace, fucking Jeongguk hard and fast while reaching past Jeongguk to grope at Jimin's chest and gently squeeze his neck. Jimin writhes and moans, eyes glazed over and far away with a smile tugging on his lips, and Jeongguk wants to taste those lips so badly, but Yoongi's grip on him is firm.

Fucking a deity that is built to know what you desire feels like a dangerous game, Jeongguk thinks, as Yoongi's hand palms at his nipple and he begins to moan loudly in his ear. Another hand tugs at his hair, and one gently squeezes his throat, and Jeongguk tries not to dwell on what this multi-armed beast must look like behind him, closing his eyes to fully embrace each sensation. 

When Yoongi finally does cum, Jeongguk's cock is already hard again. He has no idea how such a thing could be possible—has no clue if he could possibly reach another orgasm. As Yoongi thrusts slow and deep and trembles while his release fills Jeongguk, he cannot possibly fathom another form Yoongi could possibly take that would top what just happened. 

Jimin must be able to visualize another form, however, because slowly, the arms that wrap around them and the tail that holds Jimin up, begin to shift. Deep purple tentacles slowly take solid form and coil around both Jimin and Jeongguk's bodies and limbs and lift them until they are hovering above the bed, in upright positions, facing one another. 

"You imagined a tentacle monster?" Jeongguk teases, watching the dopey smile on Jimin's lips upturn.

"You like creatures with fangs too much," Jimin mutters in response, making Jeongguk chuckle and say, "I suppose you're right."

Yoongi comes into view beside the two of them, hovering nude, in his human form, with his cock hard and heavy against his tummy and his tentacles pale at the base and becoming a deep purple toward the ends. Tentacles continue to slowly fuck Jimin and Jeongguk, but the feeling of the appendages cradling and slithering like snake tails is so mesmerizing, Jeongguk cannot quite focus on his own pleasure. 

"My pretty, perfect boys," Yoongi rasps, voice nearly human once more, though there is a supernatural echo to it that fills the room. "So good for me. Everything I could ever need."

Tentacles cradle Jeongguk and fuck him, slow and steady and so perfectly. Before him, Jimin is in the same position—head lolled back, and mouth agape as a tentacle fucks him while another slowly strokes his cock. He looks absolutely gone, blinking heavily as if at any moment, he might wake up to a different reality. Jeongguk's lids suddenly feel heavy, and he fears that he, too, might suddenly appear well-rested elsewhere. Yoongi tucks some hair behind his ear and gives him a genuine, sad smile. 

"You're so good for me," Yoongi repeats, rubbing Jeongguk's cheek gently. "Absolutely perfect."

Jeongguk feels the urge to nod off—body exhausted and fucked out and ready to retire. He fights the feeling and attempts to reach out to Yoongi, frowning when his heavy arms don't go too far.

"Please don't let me forget you," Jeongguk pleads, feeling himself succumb to the ensnaring desire to rest. "Please. I can't forget this."

"You've been so perfect for me," Yoongi mutters with sad eyes, as if stuck on repeat. "Thank you, baby."

"No matter what," Jeongguk insists as his eyelids droop and the world spins into darkness, "you can't make me forget."

"So good for me," Yoongi groans. "So, so perfect."

Jeongguk reaches out, but his hand grasps onto nothing. It's as if he's falling down, down, down into darkness until suddenly—

Jeongguk jolts awake, gasping for air as he sits up in bed. He doesn't get too far, held back by Jimin's arm, which is slung over his chest. A cursory glance shows Jeongguk that he is in his hotel room, in bed, nude with his boyfriend. At the tip of his tongue are words left unspoken, but for the life of him, he cannot remember what they are, nor can he remember who they are for. 

Jimin holds Jeongguk tight and grumbles, pulling on him as if beckoning him to return to sleep, and Jeongguk allows himself to be pulled into Jimin and nuzzles against his head, breathing in his slightly floral scent as he returns to sleep. Whatever it is Jeongguk dreamt of, he hopes he might return to it.

With a huff, Jeongguk allows Jimin to take him by the hand and lead him back through the woods. They have been traversing the area for a while now, going off-path rather than returning to the resort, despite how late in the evening it is becoming. Jimin drags him along, and Jeongguk feels amused by Jimin's excitement with nowhere else to be—patient and serene, as long as he is with the man he loves. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Jeongguk feels a longing that nags at him. A nostalgia that the trees seem to encourage despite providing no answers. Jeongguk thinks perhaps this is the place they visited in his dreams. He considers telling Jimin, but wonders if some things are better left unsaid.

With the resort just past the clearing to the right, Jimin stops abruptly and turns to the left. He squeezes Jeongguk's hand tightly, and in that moment, Jeongguk remembers bits of the dream he had. He remembers warm apple pie and sharp fangs and everything beyond his wildest imagination.

"Do you miss him too?" Jimin asks, and Jeongguk's breath hitches.

Him. Dark, wild hair, pale, pretty skin, and a deep, raspy voice. Fangs and nails and scales and of course Jeongguk misses him. Suddenly, every moment spent with him is clear as day, as if Jeongguk had never left and his entire body aches for him. Suddenly, Jeongguk remembers the way he felt in the man's hold, alive for the first time in years, and in love again with the most beautiful man in the world.

"Yeah," is all Jeongguk can bring himself to say as he stares ahead at the clearing that should be a cabin. He misses him too—aching and deep, more than he has ever missed someone before. It is as if he can still feel the ghost of him on his skin, and although he is so grateful to have Jimin by his side, there is a nostalgia he fears will never leave him. "Yeah, I miss him, too."

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The Ghost of You On My Skin is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

[zeebiespeaking]

FIC MASTERPOST

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All the Best Lies Have One | AO3 💚 For #SangyaoWeek2020 💚 Essentially canon compliant 💚 What's a little kiss between brothers by proxy? 💚 Approx 1500 words

We Crawled on Our Bellies | AO3 ⚡️ Mid-century China AU ⚡️ Yu Ziyuan and Wen (Zhao) Zhuliu ⚡️ It's in first person??? ⚡️Approx 1000 words

A Heart, Tightly-Strung (一触就响) | AO3 🏚️ Jin Guangyao, but make him Roderick Usher 🏚️ That's it that's the fic 🏚️ Canon typical incest 🏚️ Approx 7400 words

What a Gentleman Seeks | AO3 🛖 Xiling (LXC/JL) 🛖 Post-canon 🛖 Proxies, identity formation and SO much grief 🛖 Approx 7200 words

Dropping this little thread fic here bc I WILL lose it otherwise lmao: You are a powerful cultivator

better add that infidelity tag then lol | AO3 4⃣ Trans JGY 4⃣ Qin Su wants a baby 4⃣ What are sworn brothers for, anyway? 4⃣ Approx 10,900 words

Some Mercy | AO3 👻 Meng Shi and Madame Qin meet 👻 Kinkmeme fill 👻 It's real stream-of-consciousness and weird lmao 👻 Approx 2500 words

A Good Enough Reason | AO3 🩸 Modern vampire au Wangxian 🩸 Vampire!Wei Ying 🩸 Bondage, face-slapping, blood play 🩸 Approx 2300 words

Got sad about Wen torture friends

-Lan Xichen voice- My girlfriends, who live in Canada, | AO3 👅 wlw omegaverse Nieyao 👅 genuinely just fluff 👅 omega Meng Yao in heat 👅 approx 1300 words

peonies  | AO3 🌳 Qin Su/Meng Yao 🌳 Wen war prize Qin Su 🌳 come see the violence inherent in the system 🌳 approx 13,300 words

bloom once | AO3 🌳 Qin Su/Jin Guangyao 🌳 Explicit, but more for violence 🌳 in their bedrooms after the war 🌳 oh my god they're so messed up 🌳 approx 15,400 words sequel to "peonies"

SERIES: like the holes in your heart  | AO3 🚿 Modern Wen war prize Lan Xichen 🚿 Trauma and recovery 🚿 Xiyao into 3zun 🚿 approx 42,000 words with small updates planned 

The Most Important Meal of the Day  | AO3 🛌 Explicit 3zun 🛌 Part of "like the holes of your heart" series 🛌 Somno, spitroasting, d/s 🛌 approx 2400 words

Head to the Cool Tile | AO3 🚽 Explicit Xiyao 🚽 Part of "like the holes of your heart" series 🚽 Emetophilia, impact play, d/s 🚽 approx 4800 words

At the Cloudless Sky | AO3 ⚽️ Explicit NMJ & Wen Xu ⚽️ Part of "like the holes of your heart" series ⚽️ the many violences of wartime ⚽️ approx 1100 words

People Cry During Sex | AO3 🥯 Explicit Xiyao 🥯 Part of "like the holes of your heart" series 🥯 Missing scene from "Always Ebbed Strangely" 🥯 approx 500 words it's vital 2 me that u read the title in the same cadence as "people die when they are killed"

Is JGY going to have his dad raped to death by prostitutes and watch it happen in this au? | AO3 🚿 Major Character Death 🛌 Meng Shi/Jin Guangshan 🚿 Part of the "like the holes of your heart" series 🛌 approx 1000 words

Ash | 扒灰  | AO3 🔥 Xuanli, except,,, 🔥 Dead dove, explicit 🔥 Once again I'm writing about female trauma 🔥 approx 1600 words

Smoke and Fire | 烟火  | AO3 🔥 JYL/JGS 🕊️ JGY and Mme Qin have a talk ☠️ approx 600 words

any of it back | AO3 ✒️ Teen+ ✒️ funky lil JGY freewrite ✒️ epistolary/poem adjacent ✒️ 300ish words "er-ge, forgive me"

Heartwood Coffin | 心材寿材  | AO3 🌲 Explicit (LXC/OC, LXC/JGY, LXC/NMJ, OC/OC) ⚰️ All of my grief for Lan Xichen 🌲 A long life and a good death ⚰️ approx 154k words IT IS SUCH A SWEET RELIEF TO HAVE HER POSTED IN COMPLETION NOW OH MY LORD 

Sloppy and Indecorous (Whatever Weird Thing) | AO3 🎀 Explicit OFC/OFC 🎀 Extra from Heartwood Coffin 🎀 Improper use of the Lan forehead ribbon 🎀 Approx 1500 words HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO MEEEEEE

The Urge to Recoil | AO3 🏺 xiyao + qin su 🏺 humiliation play, feminization 🏺 under-negotiated kink 🏺 approx 5k words written for a rainy day for @tellingetienne 🤗

"Scientific studies show that being milked by a partner leads to better, more frequent sex and a higher chance of conception"  | AO3 🐮 Explicit F/F Nielan 🍼 Cow Hybrid Lan Xichen 🐮 Literal Horse Girl Nie Mingjue 🍼 approx 2200 words

"The biological imperative, such as it is."  | AO3 🐴 Explicit F/F Nielan Breeding King 🐮 Cow Hybrid Lan Xichen 🐴 Mingjue Thee Stallion 🐮 approx 4700 words it's a series now 🙈🙈🙈

"There remains a tendency for carnivore parents to have their babies’ tails docked if they would attract the wrong sort of attention"  | AO3 🦊 Explicit 3zun Breeding Kink 🐮 Cow Hybrid LXC 🐴 Mingjue Thee Stallion 🦊 and you know who ;) 🐮 approx 6000 words

I’m your, uh, your husband’s weed guy,  | AO3 🍦 Explicit, Qin Su/Xue Yang 🍦 immovable MILF vs unstoppable weed rat 🍦 Marijuana use, ill-advised sex, no one gets hurt 🍦 approx 3300 words DIRECT from my id into your inbox

Nonconathon Reveal 1: Unmistakable | AO3🪷 Explicit JFM/CSSR 🪷 Drugged somnophilia 🪷 They're both married >:3 🪷 approx 2000 words

Nonconathon Reveal 2: The sick, sure fear | AO3 ☀️ Explicit Wen Chao/Mianmian ☀️ AND Wang Ling Jiao/Mianmian ☀️ Object insertion, branding, exhibitionism ☀️ approx 2000 words

Nonconathon Reveal 3: Ownership Bid | AO3 🅰️ Explicit OMC/OMC 🅱️ Alpha/Omega 🅾️ But no one's in heat or rut 🪦🕊️ approx 5100 words

Filthy Animal | AO3 🐕‍🦺 Explicit M/M 🐕‍🦺 Gun/Pete (KinnPorsche) 🐕‍🦺 Dehumanization, Humiliation, Rape, etc. 🐕‍🦺 Approx 2000 words 🐕‍🦺 for @JudiWench

No Translator Near | AO3 🎷 Explicit M/M 🎷 Relius/Lan Xichen 🎷 Yes you read that correctly (Queen’s Thief/The Untamed) 🎷 Approx 4500 words

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: You Going to Todd’s? (Brick/Blossom)

My Powerpufftober fic! Still rocking the high school AU for this, so consider it a part 5 to the Shooketh, Not Stirred series. As always, can be read alone, but happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom go on a Halloween scavenger hunt. It sucks.

xxx

Blossom checked her watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. It was already a quarter past 9 p.m., her Frankentini was going flat in its plastic neon martini glass, and she was starting to regret coming to Todd’s overhyped Halloween party at all.

“Oh, hey Blossom,” said Harry Pitt, ferrying three bright glasses of the same watered down mixed drink Blossom was too preoccupied to enjoy. “You hanging out?”

Blossom smiled politely. “Hi, Harry. Just waiting for someone.”

Harry’s extra padded shoulders slumped in his pinstripe mafia boss costume. “Oh, let me guess.”

Blossom frowned, a reply on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it when precisely at that moment, Brick stormed through the front door like he was running from a zombie horde and desperate for a weapon. Todd himself spread his arms with a “What, your hairdresser keep you late?” and was almost mowed down with a cursory “Shut up, Todd.” Curiously, Brick made a beeline for the unpopulated second floor. He didn’t even see the other high school Seniors who barely dodged his path. Todd grimaced in his fake vampire fangs and chugged the rest of his beer. “Cool, catch up with you later, bruh!” he said, but no one was listening.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Blossom didn’t have time to feel bad about Harry’s dejected sigh as she ditched her drink and followed Brick upstairs. The Spotify Halloween playlist booming in the speakers faded to a low bass din as Blossom rounded the corner in the upstairs hallway. “Brick?” she called, a little annoyed.

No text, no call. He could have at least told her he’d be late so she could have timed her arrival better. With a mouthful of grievances and a heart full of him, she pushed open the lighted bathroom door at the end of the dark hall. “Brick, did you hear me calling—”

A fluttery and spine-chilling laugh slithered past the crack in the door and sank into her flesh like a snake bite. It arrested her where she stood halfway over the threshold, shackled in the throes of a very specific terror she could never forget.

Brick stood at the pedestal sink, his fingers attempting to fuse with the porcelain as he gripped it hard enough to crack and stared with manic focus at the mirror. All around them, the lyrical voice reverberated:

“Poor, angry boy, there’s yet no end to your suffering! For this next task, I want you on your knees groveling. Hide your tears And sharpen your shears— To save your brothers, make me a true offering.”

Brick snarled at his reflection, as if his demon might appear there in the mirror to throttle. But there was only him in the glass, furious and frothing under his red hoodie. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

It took only a moment for Blossom to shake her stupor as instinct and training took over. “Brick,” she said, crossing the small bathroom to touch him.

Red eyes narrowed at her approach until the moment he recognized her beneath her smeared costume lipstick and dark eyeliner. “Blossom?” he rasped. His surprise made sense when she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror. Crop tops, fake bloodstains, and fishnets weren’t her normal style, but in a parallel nightmare universe perhaps they could have been.

The blushing eighteen-year-old boy in him went straight for her midriff, but his distress stayed his hand. “Fuck.” He rubbed his eyes.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“Nothing, just— Let me get in there.” He reached around her to pull open one of the drawers next to the sink in search of something.

“It’s not nothing.”

He didn’t answer as shut the drawer and checked the one below it.

“Brick, hey. You could have called me—”

With a snarl, he slammed the drawer closed and glared at her. “I was a little busy.”

“Talking to Him?” Blossom held his glare like a hand grenade with her thumb through the pin, ready to pull. “I’d never forget that repulsive lilt. Tell me what’s going on.”

He chickened out of answering her and dove for the drawers on the other side of the sink, where he found what he’d been looking for. Blossom barely had time to question the large scissors he’d pulled out before his hood was down and his man bun toppled into the sink with all the finality of a guillotined head.

Blossom gasped. “Brick!”

Somber as a corpse, he fished out his shorn bundle of hair from the sink, and Blossom watched as it burst into flame in his palm. Smoke curled through his fingers and rose high above them in an angry, red miasma. Its stink was saccharine and brought tears to Blossom’s eyes.

And then, it moved. In swirling, bloody tendrils, it slithered through the cracks above the bathroom door and down the hall as though it had a destination in mind.

“Oh, shit.” Brick dashed after it, and Blossom dashed after him down the stairs. His hand was hot in hers when she caught it and yanked him back. The split second in which their eyes met was an eon of understanding, bone-deep and cauldron-brewed. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked like he needed a friend.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“Blossom,” he tried to argue.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Blossom, hey babe, wanna flip some cups on my team?” Todd sidled up to Blossom with a stack of solo cups. Then he noticed Brick’s serrated haircut. “Buddy, what the shit happened to your hair?”

“Please go away,” Blossom said at the same time as Brick said, “Choke on my dick.”

She grimaced at Brick’s vulgarity, but Todd took a step back. Before he could snap back, he noticed the red smoke wafting through his house out the open window. “Oh shit, fire?”

“There’s a fire?!” someone else exclaimed, and panic ensued.

Blossom was about to intervene when Brick snatched her hand and dragged out the front door. “Where did it go?” he said, squinting in the dark.

Blossom swallowed her instinct to calm down her fellow partygoers (there was no fire, they’d be fine, surely…) and looked around for the demonic smoke. “There! It’s heading east.” She rose into the air to fly after it, but paused when she noticed Brick hadn’t followed her. Instead, he jogged down Todd’s cul-de-sac toward the main road. “What are you—hey!”

She landed on the ground in front of him, cutting off his dash. He tried to go around her, but she easily blocked him. It was like he wasn’t even trying to move past her, unless…

“You’re powerless,” she said.

That was the wrong thing to say. “It’s just a temporary setback,” he said in the same choke-on-my-dick tone he usually reserved for Todd.

When he tried to get around Blossom again, she put her booted foot down and cracked the asphalt. He didn’t try to pass her again. “I’m not going to ask you again.” Then, more gently: “Please, let me help you.”

The last of Brick’s petulant pride dissolved to ashes just like his ruined hair she knew he loved, and yet he’d viciously cut it off anyway. Hesitant, yet stubbornly determined, he held her gaze. “It’s Him. He’s fucking with me. Sapped my powers and said my brothers and I will pay the ultimate price unless I solve this idiotic scavenger hunt by midnight.”

“…Wow.”

“Yeah, so it’s not like I have much of a choice.”

Blossom cupped his cheek. His chopped hair was not a total disaster, but it needed cleaning up. All that time he’d spent growing it out again…

Brick sucked in a sharp breath at her tender touch. He was as rigid as a pole, gritting his teeth hard enough to shatter. Blossom’s gaze hardened, and an old but fierce fire ignited in her Super-powered veins. “We’ll beat Him’s game. I promise you. Nothing’s going to happen to you or your brothers.”

Brick let his eyes fall closed as he touched his hand to hers, and that was probably the most intimacy she was going to get out of him in the middle of a murder-y scavenger hunt on Halloween. Maybe after they booted Him back to whatever pit he’d been living in all these years she could salvage what should have been a fun, romantic date with her sort-of boyfriend.

Blossom cleared her throat. “So, evil limericks?”

Brick just groaned from the bottom of his tortured soul. He took her hand and led the way after the demonic smoke before they could lose its trail. The smoke led them to Townsville High School a few blocks from Todd’s, specifically to the annual haunted house experience the Senior class spearheaded every year. Plenty of students dressed in their ghoulish finery crowded in the lawn socializing and lining up to take a turn through the haunted house.

Bubbles was on duty as part of the social committee in charge of managing the exhibit. When she spotted Brick and Blossom headed for the cafeteria door that had been transformed into the haunted house’s black-curtained foyer, she bounced over to them. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you guys here tonight! I thought you were going to Todd’s. Wait, Brick, did you cut your hair?”

“It’s a long story,” Blossom said.

“Whoa! Slow down. You can’t go inside without a costume.” Bubbles blocked Brick’s single-minded steamroll inside after the last of the curling, red smoke slithered past.

“Bubbles, move,” Brick spat.

“No way. You can be a party pooper at Todd’s all you like, but you’re not bringing any of that into my super scary haunted house that I spent all day decorating.”

“I swear to god—”

“Bubbles, do you have any eye liner?” Blossom interrupted before Brick could say something to her sister she would make him regret for the rest of his life.

Bubbles, dressed in glam trash Powerpunk solidarity with her sisters for the night in fishnets and glitter, grinned as she dug in the pockets of her spider web-patterned black tutu. “Great idea, Blossom! C’mere, you.”

“What—hey!” Brick was literally powerless to stop Bubbles from manhandling him into a quick makeover. “There, it’s purr-fect!”

Despite the possibility of Brick’s gruesome end by satanic evisceration looming at the end of the night, Blossom could not help but laugh at the cute nose and whiskers that transformed Brick from grumpy boy to grumpy cat.

The flash on Bubbles’ phone went off.

“Hey!” Brick was redder in the face than his ruined hair.

Bubbles preened as she easily danced out of Brick’s reach before he could nab her phone and delete the evidence. “You look so cute!”

Brick turned to Blossom as his final saving grace, but there were tears in her eyes as she tried to pull herself together. “I’m so sorry, but she’s totally right. You look very cute right now.”

“Fuck this,” he grumbled, bright as a tomato as he shoved past a floating Bubbles and stormed inside the haunted house.

“Oh no—Brick, wait!” Blossom tried to tone down her giggles as she ran after him. “Bubbles, come on, this is actually serious.”

The sisters headed inside to a spooky banshee screams playlist past Ms. Keane’s bubbling cauldron and the football team zombified in a cardboard graveyard, until finally Mr. Green welcomed them to the final stop with a frightful flourish. “Step on up, boys and girls. See your future, if you dare. Mwahahahaha!”

Brick took one look at the over-eager demon teacher and tried to leave. “Maybe I should just let Him kill me while I have some dignity left.”

Blossom caught up to him and slipped her hand in his before he could turn back. The sobering reminder of why they were even here sent a chill all the way to her fingers, and she squeezed his hand in what she hoped was reassurance. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“What’s going on?” Bubbles asked, peering around Blossom’s shoulder.

But Blossom was too preoccupied by the unnatural red smoke swirling around the final, purple-draped room and its sole occupant: Robin Snyder in a truly rocking dead fortune teller costume. “Come in, come in! Let the spirits foretell your Halloween future!”

Bubbles giggled and skipped inside. She planted a very loud, very adorable kiss on Robin’s head.

“Bubbles, what’re you doing in here? You’re supposed to be on welcome duty!” Robin complained, but she reached for Bubbles’ hand and pulled her down into the chair next to her.

“I wanted to see you, obviously!”

Brick’s hand in Blossom’s squeezed uncomfortably tight, and she soon realized why: the red smoke had descended upon the ouija board set up on Robin’s table and absorbed inside it. Bubbles and Robin did not seem to notice it at all.

“All right, let’s get this shit over with,” Brick said, taking one of the empty seats across the table.

“Wow, such enthusiasm,” Robin said flatly.

Blossom took a seat next to Brick and asked their costumed host, “How does this work?”

“It’s a séance. We’ll ask the spirits what we want to know, and the board will do the rest. Everybody put a hand on the planchette.”

The moment everyone’s hands touched the plastic planchette, red smoke bubbled up from beneath it and swirled around them. In a panic, Robin tried to pull away, but found that she couldn’t. Everyone’s hands were stuck to the planchette.

“What—” Bubbles sputtered, but Him’s cotton candy creep show voice slithered from the smoke and stole her breath:

“This clue is not for the fainthearted: Unearth your next destination uncharted. Absent any confession, To the board pose your question And divine who among you just farted!”

“What the hell was that?!” Robin said at the same time as Bubbles wailed, “Oh nooooo!”

Before Blossom could respond to Robin’s very reasonable question, her arm was yanked across the board still stuck to the planchette: “B”.

Brick’s smoky cat-eyes were wide and slightly manic as he looked at Blossom, and she looked at him. She flushed so badly that she nearly swallowed her own tongue to say, “It wasn’t me!”

“Well, it sure as shit wasn���t me,” he shot back. And then, understanding dawning, they both looked across the table.

“Bubbles?” Blossom said.

“I DON’T WANT TO PLAY THIS GAME ANYMORE!” she screeched.

“Bubbles definitely farted,” Brick deadpanned. He dragged the planchette and everyone’s hands still stuck to it toward the “U” and then back to the “B” until the board spelled out Bubbles’ name. As soon as the planchette settled on the “S”, it released everyone’s hands in time for the heady, red smoke to engulf the board entirely.

Bubbles, distraught, shot out of her chair and covered her eyes in shame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Robin tried to coax her back down from the high corner she’d flown to. “Come on down from there—Bubbles, really, I can’t even smell anything!”

“You’re just saying that because you love me!” Bubbles complained.

“Oh my god,” Blossom said, too preoccupied with the board to worry about her sister’s mortification. “Is that—”

“A map of the city?” Brick finished her sentence.

The ouija board was transformed into a mini map of Townsville, if a preschooler had drawn it in crayon.

“Here we are at THS.” Blossom pointed her finger to a collection of buildings scribbled in blue crayon. “And here…” She followed a crosshatch path to the edge of the map where a horned, red, devil face sticker grinned up at her. “The cemetery.”

Brick stood up so fast his chair fell over. He stood there for half a second, his face screwed up, and then: “Goddamnit!”

He’d forgotten he couldn’t fly.

“I can carry you.” Blossom held out her hand.

“Is everything okay in here? Robin, the next group is waiting.” Mr. Green poked his horned head through the thick drapes and sniffled. “Ew, what’s that smell?”

“Oh my god!” Bubbles turned beet red and disappeared in a flash of blue, knocking down the rest of the chairs and Brick too, if Blossom hadn’t caught his elbow before he could break his nose on the tiled floor.

“Bubbles! Sorry, Mr. Green.” Robin dashed after her.

“Wait just a minute—”

In the chaos, Blossom let Brick slip out of her grip, and he stormed out the opposite door back outside.  

“What are you doing?” Blossom asked when he stopped at the sidewalk.

“Calling a Lyft.”

“I just said I can fly us both.”

“Hard pass.”

Blossom crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong with it? Flying would be faster, and it’s free.”

“I’m not letting you carry me like some damsel in distress.”

“Honestly, Brick. There’s a demon threatening to kill you and you’re worried about your masculinity?”

“No, I mean—look, this isn’t your problem, okay?”

“You did not just say that to me.”

He scowled so deeply that it should have given her pause, but the painted whiskers somewhat ruined his menace. He clenched his phone hard enough to crack if he’d still had his powers. “I didn’t mean it like I don’t want you here.”

Blossom materialized inches from his face in an unnecessary display of power that nonetheless felt fantastic. “That’s better.”

Brick flushed, but not from anger. When she slipped her hand over his, he eased his grip and relinquished his abused phone.

“That’s better,” she said again, more honey than venom this time.

Like hell was she going to send him off to his possible doom alone, powerless and with a really bad haircut painted like a cat.

“Blossom, I’m—”

Her kiss shut him up, and with it any further excuses to go it alone. And despite his increasingly desperate situation, he kissed her back like he’d never get the chance to again.

A car horn honked. “Hey, are you Brick?” asked an older guy in a Honda Civic with a fuzzy, pink mustache attached to the front bumper.

Brick very briefly broke their make-out session to reply, “No,” and then tightened his arms around Blossom’s waist and got right back to it.

The Lyft driver squinted between the profile picture on his phone and Brick. “Wait, really?”

“Never heard of the guy,” he mumbled against her lips, proving that if she wanted to get something done, she’d have to do it herself.

Blossom rolled her eyes and removed his hands from her. Before he could do anything about it, she hoisted him onto her back and hooked her arms under his knees. “Come on, let’s go thwart your imminent murder.”

The Lyft driver watched them take off in a blur of pink. “Goddamn teenagers.”

He canceled the Lyft order and left Brick a one star rating, which was probably fair.

xxx

When Blossom touched down near the entrance to the graveyard, it was back to business. “How much time do we have?”

Brick checked his phone. “About an hour and a half.”

She jogged to keep up with his longer stride as they made their way deeper into the graveyard. “Okay, that’s plenty of time to figure this out.”

A peal of laughter stopped them in their tracks on the gravel path for the split second it took them both to recognize that particular manic cadence.

“Butch,” Blossom said at the same time as Brick said, “Motherfucker.”

Beyond a small hill near the base of a huge oak tree, Brick’s brothers, Buttercup, and Mike Believe sat among the granite tombstones with a pillowcase full of candy passing a joint around. Buttercup had just blown a smoke ring in the shape of a star.

“Bitch, I’m too stoned for this fucking tongue witchcraft,” Butch said. He made an appropriately chilling sight all in black with his face painted black and white in the design of a skull.

“Hey, can you blow a heart?” Boomer asked.

“You sap.” But Buttercup took another drag and hopped off the tombstone she’d been sitting on. Moonlight glinted off the spikes on her black leather jacket as she reeled back and blew three perfect, concentric hearts from her red-painted lips.

Boomer sat up from his place under Mike’s arm and snapped a picture on his phone. “You officially have the greatest special power out of all of us, no contest.”

Mike laughed and accepted the joint when Buttercup passed it to him. “I’m gonna have to agree with that one.”

“That’s because you’re one hundred percent whipped,” Butch said.

Mike shrugged. “Eh.”

“Buttercup.” Blossom approached her sister. “You’re smoking here? What if someone catches you?”

“Somebody just did,” Boomer said under his breath.

“Damn, Blossom, you girls doing a three-way theme tonight?” Butch slipped off the tombstone he’d been draped over to admire her fishnets and then Buttercup’s matching set. “I like it.”

“Give me that.” Brick took the joint from Mike and snuffed it out under his foot.

“Whoa, whoa,” Mike said. He stood up, and at his full height in a 1920s-style adventurer’s costume, he was a Sight™ to behold, if Blossom was being completely honest.

“Brick, what’s the matter?” Boomer peered around Mike in his homemade mummy costume. “And why the hell are you wearing cat makeup?”

“Oh shit, he is,” Buttercup said with a snort.

Before Brick could lose his temper, Blossom said, “Brick, the clue. We don’t have all night.”

“What clue?” Boomer asked. He peered at them seriously. “What’re you two doing here, anyway?”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to Todd’s,” Mike said.

“Todd’s parties blow,” Buttercup said.

Blossom ignored them. “Something about unearthing a destination uncharted. What could it mean…?”

Brick made for quite the adorable pensive cat as he considered. He seemed to come to the answer at the same time as Blossom.

“No,” Blossom said. “There’s no way.”

“We’re going to have to,” Brick said. “What else could it mean?”

“It’s extremely illegal.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fucking cursed!”

“We can’t dig up a bunch of graves!”

“Wow, so that’s what that creepy limerick meant?” Robin approached the group with Bubbles looking windblown and totally ready to get her hands dirty digging up some goddamned graves.

“Bubbles,” Blossom said. “Look, I’m sorry about before—”

“This is Him’s doing,” Bubbles said flatly. “I recognized the voice when I calmed down and we followed you here. Just tell me what the plan is.”

“Did you say Him?” Boomer said soberly.

Buttercup put her hands up. “Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

Brick pulled down his hoodie and revealed his ridiculous haircut. “This is what the fuck’s going on.”

Boomer looked close to tears at the sight of Brick’s mangled hair.

“Him cursed Brick, and we have to solve a scavenger hunt before midnight or he and his brothers will pay the ultimate price,” Blossom said.

“The ultimate price?” Mike said, aghast.

“What the fuck.” Butch advanced on Brick. “What bullshit did you get us into this time—”

Blossom materialized in between Brick and Butch before the latter could carry out whatever violence he intended. She tapped him hard on the chest, and he stumbled back, probably too stoned to hold his normal balance against her Super strength. “Not today, Butch. Him took Brick’s powers.”

“Shit,” Boomer said. Blue sparks jumped in between his toilet paper-wrapped fists. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

Blossom looked to Brick, who was clearly outnumbered and they both knew it. With a groan, he ran his hands through what was left of his poor hair. “We’ll split up,” he said.

“And do what?” Buttercup said.

“Somewhere here, there’s bound to be a clue left by Him. I know that’s not a lot to go on, but it’s all we’ve got right now,” Blossom said. “Split up and cover as much ground as possible.”

“And what are we looking for?” Robin asked.

“Red smoke, demonic laughter, a general feeling of imminent disembowelment,” Brick said.

Bubbles cracked her knuckles and tightened her pigtails. “The usual, then.”

“Fuckin’ right.” Butch began to crackle with pent up green power.

With four other Supers plus Mike and Robin helping cover ground, Blossom hoped they could at least glean some inkling of what Him’s last clue meant. She stayed with Brick since he didn’t have his powers anymore, and together they wandered deeper into the graveyard. Lampposts along the gravel path cast a saturnine glow amidst the trees, fey and eerie on this most eerie of nights.

“Blossom,” Brick said softly. “If we don’t figure this out before midnight—”

“We will,” Blossom said.

He stopped, and Blossom turned to look back at him. Even powerless, there was a presence in his red eyes, beyond mortal and brimming with fire. Even as enemies, even when she couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as him, she had recognized that counterpoint in him, that tranquil confidence that there was nothing in this world he couldn’t overcome. It was a part of him and no one, not even Him, could take it away.

“But if we don’t,” he pressed.

Blossom’s throat wrenched to see him so calm. Not much scared Brick, not truly, but his softness spoke volumes here where only ghosts could hear them. Go, his eyes entreated her, forget about me and go before it gets you too.

She marched up to him and placed her hand on his chest. Ice froze her breath to mist as her anger clawed its way out of her, and she let him see it. “Then Hell will tremble to watch me drag you back out.”

Brick said nothing. He slipped his hand over hers and curled his fingers. Even now, he was far warmer than anyone she had ever known, and she clung to that certainty.

“Come on,” Blossom said, pulling him along after her. “Let’s solve this so we can go home.”

They followed the floating lamp lights east. Fog gathered at their feet, heavy and strange, but Brick held her hand, and secretly she was grateful not to be alone in such a creepy place. When a laughter they both wished they didn’t recognize reached them on the wind, Blossom’s heart leaped into her throat and she took off running with Brick hot on her heels.

The cachinnation petered out when they came across a man in a grey uniform and hat with a flashlight. “Hey, what’re you kids doing here?”

“We were just—” Blossom began.

“Enough,” Brick said, stepping forward. He put an arm out to block Blossom’s path. “I know it’s you.”

“Brick,” Blossom said.

“Son, I don’t know what you mean,” the graveyard worker said.

Brick ignored him. “I played your shitty game. This is the end. Stop hiding behind that pathetic mask and show yourself.”

The portly graveyard worker dropped his flashlight with a heavy crunch on the gravel. Watery, blue eyes bled to baleful red, and his pasty cheeks stretched to accommodate a smile far too wide for his human face. A low chuckle built deep in his chest like termites in a kicked mound, bubbling up through his throat to bursting.

“H͓̼̯ḭ̠̣d͜i̞᷊̯᷂͜n̨͇͟g̤̱͓,̼͎ a̮m̱̪̫͚͢ I̤̜̗?̨̞ T̨̳̻̜h͚̟̖̜͢a͖̻̠̜͇t̨̹ s͖i̹ṃp̨̟͈͕͢ļy̢͔͜ w̨̱o��͈̜̟̠n̹̮̖’̳̝t̮ d̪̟̪̝o̹̠.͕̫̙̩”

The booming, sinister voice came from that mouth full of teeth, but it seemed to grow out of Blossom’s bones. She felt it in her lungs, her fingertips, as a tingle on her lips Brick had kissed. And she remembered he was vulnerable, under attack by this very thing standing before them now masquerading in a meat sack.

Well, screw that.

Blossom lowered Brick’s wrist and stepped around him. No matter how hard he pushed against her, he was no match for her power—power she leaked now like gasoline fumes hungry for a spark. The gravel at her feet froze, and her eyes faded to ghastly pink as she faced her childhood nightmare. “Hello, demon,” she said.

“Y̹o̬͟u̢̡̳.”

The lampposts flickered and popped, plunging the earthly ossuary into chilling shadows, but Blossom did not fear the cold. Her fists frosted over as she clenched them, and her step summoned an ice floe in the gravel that bridged the crevasse between her and the coward who dared to haunt Brick and his brothers on her watch.

“Well?” she said. “I’m waiting.”

His meat sack shrank back. This was no child Him was taunting, but a fully realized Super who was no longer afraid of his mind games. He closed that heinous mouth and cleared his throat with a dainty, sausage-fingered hand over his heart, and recited in Him’s more lyrical pitch:

“You’ve served all night at my gracious pleasure. Now the final test to determine your true measure: Find the lady who slumbers In her crypt sunk in umber. X marks the location of my precious treasure.”

No sooner had Him given them their last absurd clue than the graveyard worker seized and fell to his knees. Blossom dashed to catch him before he could injure himself. The man coughed and wheezed as if he’d held his breath for too long.

“What in tarnation…?” he muttered, dazed.

“Sir, you had a dizzy spell. You’re all right now,” Blossom said, clinically calm as she discreetly checked him for signs of blood or other wounds. She found none. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“Who… Hey, you kids shouldn’t be here!”

Brick growled and grabbed Blossom’s elbow to haul her back up. “Let’s go.”

“Take it easy, sir,” Blossom said, and let Brick drag her along before the man could think to call security on them.

When they were out of earshot, Brick whirled on her like he was about to get scary, but she held up a hand for silence.

“Before you get mad, I was just trying to—”

His kiss was not as unexpected as she once may have thought it would be. Feverish, frantic, like a boy about to die in twenty-odd minutes, sure, but not unexpected. “Fuck, Blossom,” he panted when they parted for a breath.

Blossom’s heart swelled at his raw emotion on full display, as rare as it was true, and she almost lost herself in it. But they had work yet to do. She tucked his too-long bangs behind his ear.

“So, a lady who slumbers,” she said. “I’m guessing it’s a special statue.”

“A crypt sunk in umber,” Brick said, licking his lips. “A mausoleum, maybe.”

“That narrows it down, for sure. Must be older if it’s sinking.”

“I saw a map of the cemetery at the entrance.”

Blossom grinned and put her fist in the air. She fired a pink blaster that lit up the night sky and would summon their siblings soon. “Let’s check it out.”

He didn’t complain this time when she carried him on her back for a speedy trip back to the entrance and a quick check of the map. There were four mausoleums in the cemetery.

“Found something, Leader Girl?” Buttercup, Butch, Bubbles, and Robin were the first to catch up to the Reds, and Blossom filled them in just as Boomer returned with Mike.

“Four mausoleums? Sounds like we need to split up again,” Mike said.

“If you find anything, send a signal,” Brick said.

Chance. Brick’s and his brothers’ lives were up to the one-in-four chance that they would find the right crypt. All around them, Him’s lollipop laughter followed them like a demented poltergeist.

“This isn’t it!” Brick slammed a fist against the innermost tomb in their chosen mausoleum. “There’s nothing here.”

Blossom was about to respond to that when a bright, blue spark crackled in the air. Boomer and Mike had found something. “Hurry!”

The mausoleum Boomer and Mike had picked was guarded by a lichen-infested statue of a woman with angel wings in a bed of grassless, brown soil, so dark it could have been umber in daylight. Bubbles, Robin, and the Greens arrived soon after Blossom and Brick charged inside.

“Check it out.” Boomer indicated the innermost tomb carved with two crossed sabers.

“X marks the spot,” Mike said grimly. “Oh crap, it’s almost midnight!”

“Move!” Brick tried to push the crypt open, but it was too heavy for him, so Blossom helped. The heavy stone slab groaned when she pushed it, and a plume of foul, red smoke burst from the opening.

Him’s maniacal laughter rose with the smoke that swirled on the domed ceiling and opened two glowing eyes and a cheshire smile. “My my, cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

Bubbles shoved her phone at the unholy miasma. “It’s midnight! We beat your stupid deadline, see?”

“Bubbles, please don’t antagonize the ancient evil,” Robin whispered nervously.

“Technically, Blossom met the deadline since Brick was too weak to open the tomb,” Him crooned.

“You took my powers!” Brick said.

Him’s sinister smile fell. “Oh…did I? My bad. Here you go.”

The red smoke converged on Brick and passed through him with the force of a sword through the gut, and he collapsed to his knees in a circle of fire, gagging. Bubbles and Boomer were lightning fast as they swept Robin and Mike as far away from the conflagration as possible.

“Butch, shield!” Blossom commanded, and Buttercup shoved him so hard he tripped and crashed against his own hastily-erected shield bubble. It contained the explosion of power well enough to keep the mausoleum standing.

“Tsk tsk tsk, this won’t do. All I wanted was to play a little father-son game with you, and you had to drag your girlfriend into it. Parenting is so hard these days. I’ll just have to teach you boys a lesson.”

Blossom’s heart twisted. If Him was truly serious about killing Brick and his brothers, he would have to go through her first.

“Like hell,” Buttercup spat, her fists glowing green.

Brick got to his feet groggily. He looked like he just survived a bad case of seasickness.

Him burst out laughing. “Choice words, Buttercup. Now boys, time to pay the ultimate price!”

The tomb lid slid to the ground on unseen forces, revealing the horror within. Blossom readied her pink blasters, and her sisters did the same. Brick took one look in there and recoiled. “What the fuck—”

When no hellspawn burst from the tomb to attack, Blossom approached and peered over the edge. Inside were hundreds of polaroids of young children in dresses with their hair styled as they posed like Victorian paintings. Blossom reached for one.

Buttercup burst out laughing. “Holy shit, is this you?!” She had two polaroids in her hands as she flapped them in Butch’s face.

“Give me those!” Butch snarled.

“Wow,” Robin said, torn between hysteria and horror as she gawked at a picture of six-year-old Butch with bunny clips in his hair wearing a frilly white dress. “Wait until my therapist hears about this.”

In the picture Blossom had selected, Brick’s hair was expertly braided over his shoulder as he sat on a stone throne surrounded by candelabras and horned skulls in a flowing, white dress. He did not look happy to be there. He looked even less happy to behold this childhood shame years later.

“I burned those,” he said in a voice from beyond the grave to no one in particular.

“I made copies!” Him sang. “And now, all of Townsville will get to see you in your pageantry finest!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Butch screeched as Buttercup took off flying with a fistful of polaroids laughing her ass off. “Get back here!”

“You know, I think I look pretty cute in these, actually,” Boomer said.

Mike laughed. “Yeah, you totally do.”

“This is what you meant by paying the ultimate price?” Blossom asked the incorporeal demon head floating above them.

Him grinned. “Why, of course. Oh! You didn’t think I would murder my own sons, did you?”

The sinister glint in those yellow eyes told a very different story, one that may have ended poorly if she hadn’t forced Brick to involve her in whatever was going on.

Or maybe Him was just bored of his perpetual existence in a hellish void where a cute photoshoot with his re-spawned Super sons was the most exciting thing that had happened in a millennium, and he was feeling nostalgic.

The tomb erupted in flames all of a sudden when Brick breathed fire over all the polaroids.

Bubbles gasped. “Brick! Those were a work of art, how could you?!”

Brick glared at her with glowing, red eyes. “We’re never speaking of this again. Give me those.” He snatched the photos Robin was holding and burned them too.

Blossom hastily pocketed the picture she’d nabbed of baby Brick before he could notice.

Him disappeared in a swirl of smoke and laughter. “Happy Halloween! Remember to brush your teeth…”

“I can’t believe I came all the way here for this,” Robin said. “Literally, the weirdest shit is always happening to you guys. Can we just have a normal Halloween, like, one time? Just once?”

Boomer laughed. “Tall order, Robin.”

A loud explosion outside told Blossom the Greens’ fighting was going too far, as usual.

“Brick? What’re you doing?” Blossom asked as she and the others followed him outside.

“Helping Butch destroy the evidence your sister stole.” He took off in a blaze of red.

“What a killjoy,” Bubbles pouted.

Blossom bit her lip and revealed her pilfered polaroid. Bubbles’ smile turned downright sinister as she greedily snatched it. “Blossom, I love you.”

“That’s for emergencies only. I mean it, or he’ll kill me.”

Boomer threw an arm around her shoulders and grinned. “Nah, he’d never turn on his girlfriend.”

Bubbles gasped. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!”

Blossom flushed. “But we’re not exactly—”

“Him said it, so it’s gotta be official by now,” Boomer teased.

“Ooh, true. There’s nothing more official than a primordial force of chaos acknowledging your relationship status,” Mike said.

“Hey, you damn kids! You’re not supposed to be here!” shouted the no-longer-possessed groundskeeper from before. He had a shovel that he shook at Brick, Butch, and Buttercup locked in a game of cat and mouse as the brothers tried to reclaim the evidence of their dignity.

“Time to go,” Blossom said.

“Hey, party at Todd’s?” Mike asked.

“Great idea!” Bubbles chirped as she gave Robin a leg up onto her back.

As Blossom found herself back at the same party where she’d begun the night on the sofa next to Buttercup regaling everyone who would listen with the story of Butch’s child beauty pageant past (sans evidence because Brick had managed to burn it, unfortunately), she found her gaze drawn back to Brick. He was up getting them drinks, his haircut cleaned up thanks to Boomer, snickering at something Mike had said.

“Blossom, where are you going?” Bubbles asked when she got up.

“Just going to talk to Brick,” she said. “Officially.”

Bubbles lit up and grabbed the nearest hand to crush her feelings into, which happened to be Butch’s. “What the—ow, woman, let go!”

Brick saw her coming and stared at her growing smile like the baffled teenager he was underneath it all. With all their friends’ eyes on her, she walked right up to him and kissed him in front of everyone.

Let them see, she thought. Let anyone who was watching and biding their time to strike see, and let them try.

Lyrical laughter echoed somewhere on the edges of hearing over their friends’ laudatory cheers and loud calls for celebratory shots, but Blossom tuned it out as she smiled into her kiss.  

xxx

Like Boomer, I am a sap who loves a happy ending. Reds are finally official in this AU?! Took us long enough. Also, I always saw Him as this weird dichotomy of ancient murder-y evil and chaotic good mom. I feel like trolling the Boys would be a favorite past time of his. Might write more Him in the future and explore that more.

Happy Halloween y’all. Get spooky, and stay safe!

[geirskogull]

Empty Mirror and Empty Grave 

+ Notes: A Short Vampire the Masquerade AU for Danica and Alex, This is Chapter 1 of 4 for this series, from the point of view of the newly embraced Lasombra Alexander Voss for this first chapter. 

Chapter 1 - The Same Deep Water as You

Archive Link

Icy water splashed hard against an even cooler face, a shaky exhale followed as the water pooled a tepid rusty pink in the ceramic bowl of the sink. Strange, what living habits clung to a dead man’s body, like memories fused to him with glue that spurned him to tears, yet twisted the salty brine that would have flowed from his eyes to a sickly vital red. 

Alexander thought then that  he should be laughing. That he should be cackling in victory over those who attempted to see him for their own personal gain, his father, his grandfather, this new vampiric patron who called himself sire. Yet his mind recognized in this end he was once again the true victim, but neither his mind nor his heart could contort the man’s memories to make them spell that out for him. Stubborn as always. Just like his sister. 

If he hadn’t known of the particularities of this curse, his curse, he may have tried to rationalize the ashy smudge that greeted him instead of his own tired, gauntface in the mirror. It would have been in vain, as  he knew better, he knew mirrors didn’t break like that. Hell he probably would have spent hours trying to scrub clean imaginary grime just to see his dead mossy green eyes. He always thought the color of rot suited him. Beyond that mournful rumination though, he also knew without his reflection, he looked a right mess if his sire, that figure of ruthlessness and shadows he met only a handful of times, counting his own death, saw him like this his new eternity would be over before it even began. 

So he returned to those empty habits he had once relied upon so much, inhaled deeply, straightened his shoulders, and ran cold hands across his face to remove the bloody tears tracks that dug their way there as best as he could with a smudgy mess as his guide. Another splash of water just in case, and another for good measure, and then a third till the pool was clear and he was sure the relics of his weakness swirled  down the drain, relics of shame he would never share. If he is to live forever, he would not allow it to be in vain.

“What do you want with me?” Terse words from an estranged sister echoed through his memory as he dried his face. “Arn’t you afraid dear old dad’ll axe you too, Alex?” She had hissed across a tiny café table that was more splinters held together with gorilla glue than actual wood then. Cross legged, angry and closed off, as he expected, but with sharp green eyes and new scars he didn’t remember being there last time he saw her. Those five years had changed them both so much. Then, he wondered if there was still anything left to save, left to salvage of their friendship. 

He laughed then, a bitter biting thing that painted fear across his twin sister’s face, only to be replaced with  sadness once its teeth were fully in her skin. A heavy silence hung around them in it’s wake, as if his cooling tea and her hot chocolate turned glorified chocolate milk were iron weights around their legs, dragging them to the ocean floor. 

He threw a clean black dress shirt over his shoulders and began to button it. Blinking away fresh bloody tears that threatened to spill over his still damp cheeks and the bittersweet memory in equal measure. As the visage of her hand reaching across that rough wooden sea to grasp his own terrified digits swelled in his minds, he paused.

“I’ve missed you so much, Dee.” Whispered words repeated from those recollections to nothing but the cold empty air around him. He dug his teeth into his lips, for he feared he was on the verge of sobbing once more. Once was more than enough for a night, thank you.

Oh if only he hadn’t traveled to this damn city on the guise of looking for school,only to actually be looking for her. If only he had taken the token acceptances thrown his way by those big name medical schools, all thanks to their father’s well placed donations and not in any way thanks to the intellect he believed he had. If only he hadn’t spent every cent he earned  on his own looking for his best friend that had been chased from their childhood by the bastard that sired them both, guilty only of the crime of dreaming. 

Perhaps then, they would still be truly alive. 

And not one unbreathing corpse masquerading as a living man, and the other... 

He dabbed a cold hand against his eyes, fearing the weakness of his resolve. Now is not the time to reflect, Alexander. He chastised himself bitterly, his own tone harsh. And even if it was, what would she think, seeing you now? Seeing you like this? A broken shell of a broken shell, huddling in his home not even willing to try this new gift out.

She’d tell him to relax, to lighten up. She’d ask about his class work and bring one of the animals she was fostering to sit on his lap. That’s how he ended up with Minet, wasn’t it? A loud meow near his feet confirmed his idle musings. Red eyes looking down into one cat-like yellow one, upon  a sea of black fur interrupted only by a terribly gaudy red collar and its pretty little bell. 

The vampire sniffled, kneeling down and giving the kitten a faint but honest grin. Ah his dear little constant. He found himself drawing his cold hands through soft fur and humming gently as the small cat began to purr. 

“Ah, so deep in my melancholy I forgot the most important job in my days!” A chuckle echoed in the cool air, and was answered by another dignified meow.  “Yes, yes, I know. Food is late, let’s go my dear one.”

“He’s friendly Alex, I promise.” Danica chuckled, her sing songy voice not exactly inspiring confidence, as she held a  small black bundle of fur and claws close to her chest. He hadn’t even looked up then, far too stressed out over his classwork, a med student more anxiety and coffee than flesh and blood at the present. He had more in common with the scattered cups of the stuff over his sisters home that he did her at the moment. \

“Last time I checked, tiny felines were not a requirement for me to pass my finals.” He had snipped up at her then, only to be met in turn with a very loud, very squeaky, and most definitely disappointed meow. Thankfully it was jarring enough to force the crooked man to right his posture and gaze at the single defiant eye of the feline now held ungracefully out towards him. 

"It's not, but it'll be good for what remains of you after said finals big brother"

"I'm only like two minutes older , Dee."

"And that's the first time you haven't lorded it over me, now hold the damn cat and relax Alex."

The loud, metallic jingle of kibble into a custom red bowl, the same shade as that tacky collar,  rescued the dead man from the clutches of his memories once more. Following suit was a very content and loud purr from the aforementioned Minet, King of the Flat, as he completely forgot about Alexander, Owner of the Flat, and dove straight into his food with a vigor he showed little else. Another shakey, yet unneeded, exhale left the vampire. This time at least sounding something akin to a weak  wheezy chuckle and not a barely restrained sob. 

Good kitty. 

Very good kitty.

Alexander Voss gave the fluffy menace a few polite yet ignored pats before standing and facing his evening once again. He did have orders after all, and what else had he been his entire life but a loyal, dutiful, gopher for his father and his father’s goals. Why would that change in death? 

The comedy was not lost on him, given the orders this time were “Go, enjoy yourself for a night.” As if he even knew where to start! A bitter laugh erupted from him, consuming the silence of the apartment like a mad hungry flame. Lingering in the expanse of once pleasant memories, turning them to ash in his mouth, was definitely not a good start.

But he would not fail, not again. Not at any task.

So even with the added “difficulty” of not being able to see himself in the mirror, he silently swore to his reflection that he would forge himself anew of black shadowy steel. He would be a tool for himself, not for this new vampiric father he found himself beholden to, not for the visible ghosts of his  first victims and the invisible ghost of his sister, but for himself. A revolutionary statement in his mind that would take some getting used to, and a great deal of planning to accomplish.

With the weight of his memory as the ink upon the paper of his oath, and the cold wind beyond his door the dust sprinkled upon it, he now just needed to find the wax and the stamp and it would be eternal.. As he twisted the polished silver door handle of the apartment, he closed his eyes. A stillness taking him as he silently considered this new plan brewing in the blackness in his mind. 

He shoots a careful glance back at Minet over his shoulder as the cold winter wind knocked at his coat and mussed his long, unkempt ponytail. The one eyed feline, for his part, licked at his paws absently, full from his regal meal and oblivious to his servants troubles.

“I’ll be back.”

His words were largely ignored, but the flittering familiar shades at the edge of his vision seemed to nod, almost in approval. Strange from such stern faces, barely perceivable in the messed watercolor of their forms, but still uniquely themselves. 

Facing forward, he inhaled, the last act of his old dying world, and faced a new beginning.. A pang of thirst in his gut forced a strange wolfish smile upon his face, sharp toothed and hungry. First goal of the evening, of his first free night, find a drink.

He would need the energy for what he had planned.

[cssns]

And now... it’s time to introduce the artists of the CSSNS!!! Everyone please help me welcome @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 to the CSSNS!!!

Tumblr Name 

@allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ (Kayla)

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom? 

I watched the show on tv since it first aired, but I’ve only been on tumblr since summer 2014 which is when I first started getting involved in fandom. CS/OUAT fandom involvement probably started late 2014/early 2015? So around five years now I guess. 

When did you start shipping Captain Swan? 

I liked their early banter, but I was team Emma’s happiness, no matter who she would share it with romantically, if anyone. When they started to get closer in canon, I started really shipping them, and then it took off when I dove into the fandom until they basically became my every thought. This song is perfect for CS. This story would be a cute CS au. CS would totally have this decoration in their house. THEIR house omg. Etc. etc. I even created at least one college project around them, with professor permission (a website for a CS-owned coffee shop I created for my web design class).

What drew you to this event? 

I participated in the first two years because I like a lot of supernatural things and pairing them with CS sounded fun, and I loved it so much! It’s fun to make solo art, and it’s even more fun to collab with writers to connect with more people who have similar interests and create something cool together. I definitely had to participate in what might be the last year too.

What inspired your topic? 

I’m making some solo aesthetics but didn’t have any specific ideas for what to make this round, so certain photos I found on unsplash or pexels just searching general relevant terms inspired each one I’ve worked on so far. I’m working with two wonderful authors as well, so they’ll inspire some art too. :)

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below. 

So far I have a werewolf-mermaid hybrid aesthetic inspired by a photo with a quote involving the moon and the sea, a vampire aesthetic inspired by some photos I found while working on something else, an angel/demon aesthetic inspired by a photo with “never run faster than your guardian angel can fly,” and a Phoenix!Killian aesthetic inspired by a neon sign photo with “you can always rise up from ash.” (Is there a limit? I should probably ask if there’s a limit.) I’ll leave the fic summaries up to @hollyethecurious​ and @teamhook​ if they choose to share. :)

What kind of art do you like to do? Picsets, painting, digital, etc? Feel free to give as much info as you like. 

I “like” to do pencil and digital art, but I’m not very good at any of that, so I’m making aesthetics/moodboards (which I also definitely like to do) for my solo art for the event, and most likely for the collab art as well but we’ll see what happens.

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event? 

I’m super excited for the collaborations, and also for seeing all the awesome art and fics everyone creates!

Kayla is an incredible artist and I know whatever she comes up with is gonna be SPECTACULAR!!! Both for the fics she’s doing art for and also the solo art! And I’m also over the moon to be collaborating with her on the werewolf-mermaid aesthetic! When she shared what she had, a whole fic idea came along with it! Her fic art will drop with @hollyethecurious​ in the first wave and @teamhook​ in the third. Everyone go welcome her back to the event and give her lots of love!!!

[deputyash]

Dove Ash (FC5) | Dove Ash (Herald AU) 

Dove Ash (Vampire AU) | Dove Ash (Angel AU)

Doll!Phoebe Ash-Seed (FCND) | Demon!Vivian Wells (FCND)

Demon!Valerie “V” (CP2077) | Vampire!Evie Rivera (RDR2)

I was tagged by @adelaidedrubman @direwombat @blissfulalchemist and @cassietrn to do this really cool meiker! Thank you! :D

Tagging: @harmonyowl @derelictheretic @peachyaliien @strafethesesinners @teamhawkeye @ri-a-rose @redreart @statichvm @glowwormsmith @fuckin-nancy @shellibisshe @wrathfl @cobb-vanthss @purplehairsecretlair @dumbassdep

[inacciaio-archive]

@warwagcd @halfvampirehalflycan @nomcther @the-direct-descendant

need to write a meta about Semira while I still have all these feels. ( warning: this applies to my interpretation of Semira and also my au where she didn’t go after David because I still think she wouldn’t be that stupid to damn herself like that bc even if she would’ve successfully killed David, everyone would know she did it because the timing of her escape was convenient and she wanted him dead )

I don't know if any of you have watched Joss Whedon's tv show Dollhouse, (Everyone should check it out by the way. This is the same person who made gems like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly) but there's this character Adelle, and as a leader, she reminds me a lot of Semira. Not completely, but specifically the parts about them that are pragmatic and strategic, but also lonely. Adelle reminded me that up at the top with all that power and coldness and no one, Semira must be truly lonely. Especially with my headcanons based on the story of Semiramis, which Semira’s name is based on. 

Basically, Semiramis was abandoned by her mother, despite her mother being a goddess. Perhaps it was because Semiramis was half-mortal due to her father being human. She was fed by doves and then found by a shepherd who raised her. She married a king’s guard, but then because of her strength and courage, the king wanted her himself. So he took her as his wife, and they even had a child, but the king was fatally wounded in battle. Semiramis posed as their son to lead her husband’s army, and after he died, Semiramis ruled as queen regent for 42 years. Desirable as she was, she could’ve had any man as a husband, but she chose to stay alone, to never marry again. Perhaps to keep her power all to herself. 

Semira found herself in a similar situation. Viktor took her in as an adult though, as she spent most of her childhood life on the streets. She found herself working a job as a human in a seedy pub, and from her life without family or loved ones, and with Viktor teaching her that caring wasn’t an advantage, Semira doesn’t quite know how to love someone. Secretly she wants it, yet secretly she’s also afraid of it. 

The vampire has dedicated herself to her work, thinking herself above such a thing as forming a meaningful relationship. It gives her a weakness, she thinks. Either the person will use her trust and secrets against her, or the person will be used by someone else to hurt her. She sees caring for someone else as a disadvantage. She wants it though, so it’s why she takes so many lovers, never getting attached. They’re nothing but bodies meant to give her affection, to fill her void. Their purpose is to give her tastes of something she feels she can never have nor give; love. It’s an even greater experience if the person falls in love with her, but Semira still doesn’t love them back, she can’t. She could never allow herself to have such a great weakness. She was born with nothing, and she fought so hard to have everything, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be brought down by giving into such a pathetically human desire. Semira no longer sees herself as human, she sees her formal self as a weakling, someone who simply survived. She sees herself now as a phoenix risen from the ashes, and she would rather internally suffer than lose the power she fought so hard to gain. 

So she does. Semira longs for touch, for caring, for affection, for everything and more, and she can’t have it. She won’t allow herself. She has people to share bits and pieces with, but not a single person knows everything about her. The person who ever got closest was Thomas. He knew almost everything about Semira, but even he was never told of how incredibly lonely Semira was. Starved for attention, demanding of it, but not lonely. Semira went many years without having a confidant to tell many, many things to, and so she was truly happy to see Thomas again after so many decades. But even her closest of friends, they could not become weaknesses. 

She had to make a choice in that moment. There was a look of shock, but overall a look of disappointment. In her mind, she had been betrayed yet again. Thomas had brandished a weapon against her. Betrayed by someone she cared for most. She could rationally decide that Thomas was only protecting his son, but emotionally was different. As rational as Semira can be when it comes to battle plans, when it comes to personal things, Semira is somewhat emotionally charged. 

She had a choice to make. Let him go, stand down, don’t fight, lose a potentially incredible asset, lose her revenge against Selene, potentially lose her power when a well trusted vampire such as Thomas tells the council all about her treachery. Fight him, kill him, lose the closest thing to a best friend she’s ever had. In the back of her mind, Semira felt that she had to do this, that there was only one smart choice. What she had worked for had to take importance above all things. She wouldn’t go back to being nothing. She had clawed her way to the top and she would never go back. In the moment, she could write him off. He was just another weakness that had to be eradicated like all of her other weaknesses. That was what she told herself as she fought him. That he wasn’t a person, that he wasn’t even a pet, that he was a liability that had almost been used against her; Thomas believing that Semira would spare him because of their relationship, that the fight would only be to distract her until his son and Selene escaped, that she would simply curse him and be mad for a while for ruining her plan. No, she told herself, she would not let someone play her like that. That was what she told herself when she plunged the sword into him. She would not be played like a fool. 

It wasn’t until the next night that it fully weighed on her. She had Varga, but she knew that she could never allow herself to put her trust and faith in another person as she did with Thomas. In fact, she separates herself further from Varga emotionally after this. Even though they had sex, it was physical. Emotionally, she was utterly alone. Sharing her thoughts, emotions, anything with anyone else was an impossibility. She thinks of how she took Thomas’ life, but more selfishly, she thinks of how she no longer has someone. She doesn’t have anyone she can truly confess her thoughts and feelings to. She reminds herself that she technically never did in the first place, that she just feigns trusting people, that she never really does. She manipulates everyone, she lies to everyone, she blocks out everyone. She reminds herself that she wouldn’t even know how to act any differently even if she tried.

It’s this that makes Semira feel an aching knot in her throat. Her body wants to cry, but Semira won’t allow it. She wants to scream, but she won’t allow it. She just sits there on her lush bed that she earned for herself, that she killed for, that she slaughtered for, and feels all of her pain boiling up inside of her like it’s ready to burst, like her chest filling with rock hard cement, trying to break out of her and rip her apart. What’s all of it for, she asks herself. Why do I even continue? Because it was too late to stop now. Because, she knows, if she stops now it will all have been for nothing. She will be nothing again. She’s too deep now. It’s like being underground and digging your way out. So many sacrifices were made on the way up, so many mistakes made, and she had to just keep going because if she doesn’t keep going, she’ll just fall down and be trapped forever or die. 

Her throat burns, she feels like she’s choking. It’s just one person, she reminds herself. One meaningless person. Even as she tricks herself into thinking that she no longer cares about Thomas’ existence, she still knows that she is alone and that won’t change, that will never change. She wants to scream. She wants to lash out in rage. At herself, at everyone, at the world. She knows she’s nothing but power and anger. The two things that she has, the two things that she’s good at. 

It isn’t until her fall that she finally breaks down. She made so many mistakes. She realizes all at once. Only being kept alive due to either Selene’s mercy for helping Selene kill Marius, or because the council wanted to further torture her, because death would be too easy. Death would be swift, pain would be better even, Semira knew how to handle pain. But being low again, the lowest of the low, falling, being at the bottom, losing everything, Semira realized truly what she had done. What did she do it for? What was it all for? She thinks of how she practically sabotaged herself. She took Thomas away from herself. She pushed away any chance at love she had with Varga. She was a cold, heartless leader. Now she had nothing. It was in her new bedroom, a relatively smaller one, but still alone nonetheless. They didn’t trust her to sleep with the other vampires. Weeks into her sentence, her life sentence of punishment-- they wouldn’t let her die, no, that would be mercy -- Semira feels that feeling in her throat again. This time, her eyes do fill with tears. Why am I like this, she asks herself. Why am I fucking like this? Weakness was my weakness. Arrogance, pride, but above all, fear of weakness. Fear of losing. Fear of being lesser. Under all of the confidence there had always been a desire to be above and superior. Without weakness, perfect, because if she wasn’t perfect, how else could she prove that she was better than Selene, better than everyone? To be better was what Semira wanted, what she needed.

Semira finally cries for the first time in so long. Centuries worth of sadness, of loneliness, of pain and self loathing being sobbed out only when she’s sure that no one is around to hear or see her. She’s on her knees and digging her nails into the floor, screaming. She’s lost everything, no reason to keep it all inside anymore, all the rage, all the sadness. Her world was destroyed and she mostly blamed herself for it. Underneath all of her excuses, she knew it was her fault. Behind all her selfishness, she knew she should’ve been different, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t even know if it was worth trying to be any different now. She had her chances to try and she ignored all of them. Power was more important, it was always the most important and now the only way she would ever have power again is if she killed everyone with power in this coven, and even then, it wasn’t a sure thing that the rest of the coven would abide by her rule. And then what? She could force them to listen, she could kill some of them as examples, but what would it be for? Power for the sake of power? What would that be for? It wouldn’t even be for self satisfaction, because what was satisfactory about ruling people just to know they hate you? She wanted what others had so easily and she would never have it, and even with all the pathetic excuses and blaming other people, it all came down to being her own fault. She could’ve acted differently, she finds out Varga had loved her, though no longer did, she could’ve chose a different path for herself, but she didn’t, didn’t know how, and was too scared to even try. So she screams. She screams so much until her throat is sore and aching. Her eyes red, burning, wet, the tears won’t stop and for once, she doesn’t try to stop them. Semira’s on the floor, alone. 

When she’s questioned about the destroyed state of her room, she simply smirks. She hides behind her smirk, she always has, but especially more so now. Semira shakes her head and comes up with some sort of excuse to hide the real reason, she’s got millions of excuses. 

[deputyash]

Dove Ash (FC5) | Dove Ash (Herald AU) | Dove Ash (Vampire AU)

Evie Rivera (RDR2) | Evie Rivera (Revenge/Business Attire)

Vivian Wells (FCND) | Valerie “V” (CP2077) | Monroe (RDR2)

Tagged awhile back by @direwombat to do this picrew! Thank you!

Tagging: @strafethesesinners @harmonyowl @derelictheretic @teamhawkeye @purplehairsecretlair @peachyaliien @ri-a-rose @redreart @statichvm @shellibisshe @glowwormsmith @fuckin-nancy @wrathfl @cobb-vanthss @jacobsneed @adelaidedrubman @blissfulalchemist @statichvm @jacobseed ​

[deputyash]

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