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#Thunder Underground
Destroyer Toys With Hunk
Muscle god Destoyer is bigger and beefier than Cason, with an obvious advantage in this face off. Pulling a muscle jobber up by the hair is a favorite tactic of mine, especially against a hunk like Cason. It’s humiliating, and Destroyer practically forces the sexy stud to crawl around after him. This can only end with a brutal knockout.
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THAT WESTONE THUNDER BASS GUITAR IS BIGGER THAN SHE IS.
PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on "the uncommonly obscure" COMMONERS, a reported sixties rock revival band (file under "mod revival" & "power pop" as well), playing somewhere in L.A., c. 1983. 📸: unknown.
Source: www.picuki.com/media/3139706065952049435.
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tache-noire · 4 months
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"cm punk gay" this
"cm punk faggot" that
cm punk is on ZERO gay wrestling fetish sites
brian cage is on 4
step up your game
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poligraf · 7 months
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In winter the life energy, symbolized by thunder, the Arousing, is still underground. Movement is just at its beginning; therefore it must be strengthened by rest so that it will not be dissipated by being used prematurely. This principle, i.e., of allowing energy that is renewing itself to be reinforced by rest, applies to all similar situations. The return of health after illness, the return of understanding after an estrangement: everything must be treated tenderly and with care at the beginning, so that the return may lead to a flowering.
— Hexagram #24 from the I Ching · Return · via Ask The Oracle
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Happy birthday, blaxploitation and cult film icon Rockne Tarkington! (1932 - 2015) Here's some original art inspired by Black Samson and Melinda to celebrate!
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xtruss · 2 years
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The ghostly profiles of ancient gods emerge from a ca. 3,000-year-old rock carving in Turkey. Police tracked looters to the subterranean complex, likely built during a time when the Assyrian Empire was expanding in the region in the 8th century B.C. Photograph By Y. Koyuncu and M. Önal , Aantiquity Publications Ltd
Secret Tunnel Reveals Procession of Ancient Gods
Assyrian Deities of Thunder and the Moon were Revealed by Archaeologists in an Underground Chamber Originally Discovered by Looters.
— By Tom Metcalfe | May 10, 2022
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The Divine Procession ls led by Hadad, Mesopotamian God of Storms (Far Right, Clutching a Trio of Lightning Bolts); the Moon God Sîn; the Sun God Šamaš; and Atargatis, the Region’s Goddess of Fertility, all Identified using local Aramaic Inscriptions. Photograph and Drawing By M. Önal, Based On Laser Scan By Cevher Mimarlik, Aantiquity Publications Ltd
Archaeologists have discovered rare ancient carvings of Assyrian gods in an underground complex in southeastern Turkey—an unprecedented find that may point to the use of “soft politics” in a frontier region of the world’s most powerful empire almost 3,000 years ago.
The carved scene depicts at least six gods, including Hadad, the Mesopotamian god of storms; the moon god Sîn; the sun god Šamaš; and Atargatis, the region’s goddess of fertility. It is described in an article published in the journal Antiquity.
The nature of the discovery is also unusual: police found the subterranean complex in 2017, after following a secret passage to it from a modern two-story house in the village of Başbük, about 30 miles from the city of Şanlıurfa.
Article co-author and philologist Selim Ferruh Adalı of the Social Sciences University of Ankara says it seems the complex was first unearthed when the house was being built several years earlier. But the discovery wasn’t reported to authorities, as Turkey’s law requires; instead, looters crafted a tunnel from the house to the underground passages. The looters were eventually caught, and they do not appear to have damaged the carvings.
Mehmet Önal, the article’s lead author and head of archaeology at Harran University in Şanlıurfa, first saw the underground carvings by the flickering light of a lamp.
“I felt as if I was in a ritual,” he recalls. “When I was confronted by the very expressive eyes and majestic, serious face of the storm god Hadad, I felt a slight tremor in my body.”
Imperial Style, Local symbolism
The subterranean complex consists of hundreds of feet of passages, staircases, and galleries hewn from the bedrock. Both the complex and the carvings seem unfinished, and the researchers speculate construction unexpectedly stopped, likely early in the 8th century B.C.
An inscription beside the carvings shows a partial name, which the researchers think reads “Mukīn-abūa.” He may have been the Mukīn-abūa listed in Assyrian records around 2,700 years ago as governor of the provincial capital of Tušhan, about 90 miles to the east of modern Başbük.
If the reading is correct, Adalı suggests, it could be that Mukīn-abūa had ordered the subterranean complex built and the carvings made, only to have work cease when he was no longer governor.
The ancient gods are depicted in procession across a 12-foot-wide panel of rock wall. Six faces can be seen, and four of the gods are identifiable—the storm god Hadad, for example, is carrying a trio of thunderbolts. Each delicately carved portrait, the largest of which is over three feet in height, shows the head and upper body of a god with lines of the image highlighted in black paint, possibly as a guide as the artists cut more stone away to show the figures in relief.
Adalı notes that although some features of the gods are distinctly Assyrian—such as their rigid poses, and the particular style of their hair and beards—many details of the carvings show strong influences from the local Aramaic culture. Arameans had lived in the region for centuries before they fell under the rule of the rapidly expanding Assyrian Empire in the ninth century, coming under the control of kings who lived far to the east in northern Mesopotamia.
Adalı also notes that the inscriptions beside the carvings are written in Aramaic and give the Aramaic names of the gods, rather than their Assyrian names. “It’s primarily Aramaic symbolism that we find, melded with Assyrian style,” he says, adding that the deliberate mix may have been an attempt by the distant Assyrian rulers to integrate with local leaders, rather than rule by force.
Archaeologist Davide Nadali of Rome’s Sapienza University agrees that the unique artistic mix of Assyrian and Aramaic features in the carvings sheds interesting political light on the relationship between the powerful empire and one of its key territories.
“The inscriptions in Aramaic emphasize the intention to have a dialogue with local communities, [while] the use of Assyrian figurative style shows the need to interact with the Assyrian political power,” he says in an email.
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cowboyarc · 2 years
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Mhmm a mando cod au? (Sorry I’m a tags rambler)
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turbomnstr · 4 months
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numberxxisora · 5 months
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youtube
Last week, we tried going around and around the Nascar arena and get higher and higher in the ranks.
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lilislegacy · 7 months
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frank: let me get this straight. thalia and jason’s domain is the sky, percy’s domain is water, and hazel and nico’s domain is basically the underground?
annabeth: yes
frank: but… can’t percy also create storms? that have clouds and lightning and thunder?
annabeth: yes
frank: and… and can’t percy also create earthquakes and make volcanoes erupt?
annabeth: yes
frank: so… in a way, doesn’t that mean everywhere is percy’s domain?
annabeth: yes.
annabeth: but don’t tell him. he hasn’t had that realization yet
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Brando Knocked OUT!
Big beefy hunk Brando is pissed. Smaller, sexy stud Deadlock was supposed to be an easy opponent for the massive man meat. Deadlock, however, knows exactly how to take down this giant, and humiliate him in the process.
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mcflymemes · 6 months
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SCI FI SETTINGS / LOCATIONS PROMPTS *  sci-fi location based prompts for starters, adjust as necessary
spaceship-specific
[ 01 ] the cockpit of a dilapidated spaceship
[ 02 ] the bridge of a massive starship, with windows around the room giving you an incredible view of the stars
[ 03 ] beside the burning remains of a crashed ship
[ 04 ] tucked away in the bunks of a tiny spaceship
[ 05 ] outside a spaceship in the middle of space, using gravity-boots to walk safely across the ship and perform repairs or check a bad sensor
[ 06 ] a bustling ship hangar with crewmembers running about, rushing to get into their ships as the battle draws near
[ 07 ] the weapons locker onboard the ship
[ 08 ] the locker rooms onboard the ship
[ 09 ] the echo-y shuttle bay of a spaceship
[ 10 ] in the ship's command center during an intense battle
[ 11 ] the narrow passageway leading to the ship's weapon system/turrets
[ 12 ] the mess hall, crowded with crewmembers
[ 13 ] your muse's private room onboard the ship
different types of planets
[ 14 ] a dense, foggy planet with oversized plants
[ 15 ] the abandoned base on a moon with low gravity
[ 16 ] a swampy, foggy planet with frightening creatures lurking beneath the water's surface
[ 17 ] an entirely water-covered planet with structures built above the stormy seas for safety
[ 18 ] a hilly, remote planet covered in grasslands
[ 19 ] a lava-covered, mountainous planet with bubbling volcanoes
[ 20 ] a planet trapped in a constant storm, always raining and thundering
[ 21 ] the site of an abandoned colony on a once-habitable planet, now taken over by nature and destroyed by time
[ 22 ] a planet where life only exists underground, where it is impossible to survive on the surface
[ 23 ] a city planet, completely built up of buildings, nightlife, neon lights, and a seedy underbelly
assorted locations + scenarios
[ 24 ] a military base, now abandoned and controlled by a rogue ai
[ 25 ] trapped within a high security prison full of space pirates
[ 26 ] a holy temple, obscured in the mountains of a distant planet
[ 27 ] on the craggy side of a massive meteor
[ 28 ] a dangerous off-world facility rumored to house illegal experimentations
[ 29 ] a bustling, cramped cantina filled with music, drinking, and the occasional gunshot or two
[ 30 ] secretly aboard the enemy's ship, trying to remain hidden
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crystaleclipse10 · 2 months
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A look into the Ninja's powers
Welcome to my analysis of the powers of each of the 6 main Ninja. How each power feels and its source for each Elemental Master, and how it reflects in their personalities. This has headcanons and canon explanation. Hopefully it all makes sense
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Cole: Cole’s power comes from deep within the ground. He can feel the power of the earth in his guts, strong and steady. It’s grounding. It’s constant. The earth is always somewhere below him. No matter where he is, somewhere there’s earth—whether it’s deep within a mountain, everywhere; or leagues under the sea; or so far beneath the sky it is practically invisible—it will never not be there. It’s reliable. Yet it takes different forms: dirt, rocks, magma, sand; it’s all part of the ground, versatile. It’s protective; it encases and preserves ancient ruins and fossils, it gives shelter to those seeking refuge. It connects all living things—it reaches every part of the world. It cannot be forced to move, but it can be guided. It is the foundation of everything.
“You've never been farther underground. Never been more surrounded by the very thing that powers you. The Skull Sorcerer thought he was burying you, but what if he was actually bringing you closer to the earth? To the source of your elemental power?” “So what do I do? Try to connect with the earth?” “Perhaps. Or perhaps you just have to stop worrying so much and let the earth connect with you.”
Zane: Zane can sense his ice powers in his mind. It can exist in the coldest of climates, and when it melts, turns into something just as powerful; it is not wasted. It carves its way through anything—glaciers. The rivers of ice creep forward slowly but surely, taking everything in its path. It’s steady and cold, but its bite can be unrelenting. Frostbite, hypothermia—just as cold as ice is. And icicles, especially when shot as a projectile, are like daggers; sharp and dangerous. But it can numb pain. It tames something burning hot into something pleasantly warm. It is hard and strong, but it can crack—and if that happens, it can be made whole again with a little time. It is reliable and quiet. It can create a protective barrier. It’s there when it needs to be.
“This isn’t about numbers…it’s about family.” “He’s protecting us.” “I am a Nindroid, and Ninja never quit. Go Ninja, go!”
Jay: Lightning. He can feel it buzzing on his skin and nerves, able to be condensed and controlled. Pure energy, electricity. It’s volatile and dangerous. But it can be essential to life. It’s everywhere—thunderstorms, static, neurons firing in the brain. If it wasn’t for electricity, the brain would cease to function and life couldn’t exist. It’s quick—blink and it’s gone, just a thread of light that comes and goes. But its impact is remembered. A thunderous boom, a scar of soot, sometimes even a blaze set in its wake. Its glow is practically too bright to look at; a source of light for even the darkest of caves. Just one spark can start a fire or illuminate a building. It’s a source of power—for vehicles, technology, buildings. Even though it is not always visible, lightning and electricity are all around, ready to be called upon.
“Control the power inside you. When you feel a surge welling up, harness it.”
Kai: Kai’s power over fire comes from the breath—air is fuel for fire, and controlled breathing can control the blaze. It is not a matter of force—though hot anger can stoke fire—but harnessing the buzzing potential in the air. Fire can be destructive; a wildfire is chaotic, unyielding, and intense, burning everything in its path. But it can be life-giving, too. It’s cozy. It provides warmth on the coldest of nights. It can cook food, boil water, ward off frost. It is the essence of the sun—the largest blaze that allows life to exist. It burns with passion and ferocity, but if it loses strength, there will always be an ember remaining. Almost nothing can beat back a big, hot fire. It can be a weapon or a defense; it hurts to touch, and no one without immunity would dare go near. Without fire, life could not be sustained.
“I just wish I still had my powers. I was Master of Fire. I could've made a new fire like—like...like this.” “Oh, do not worry, Kai. Elemental Power comes from within, like courage. Sometimes it wanes, sometimes it waxes, but it cannot be stolen.”
Nya: The power of water flows through her veins. Water is ever-changing and powerful. Even the strongest rocks erode under the power of water. It’s relentless. It can defeat ghosts because it is always changing and shifting, while ghosts are stuck trying to be one thing and refuse to change. It cleanses and heals. The first thing to do for something dirty is to wash it with water. And it’s part of blood, something vital for people to live. It’s restless. The ocean never stays still; it does not like to be contained. The tides are as constant as they are powerful. The entire ocean moves with the tides; the constant in and out of so much water shapes the coasts. Rivers bend and flow around obstacles; no matter what is in the way, it will eventually reach the ocean—the largest body of water filled with plants and animals. Water supports life and creates ecosystems. It’s the heart of the wild.
“Jay, the ocean's good for much more than food. As we go deeper, I can feel its elemental power growing. It's almost overwhelming.”
Lloyd: Perhaps the most vague but also the most powerful element is Lloyd’s. Is it Power? Creation? Energy? Life? Lloyd is connected to the Source Dragon of Life, not Energy. Whatever the case, it comes from his heart. If it is Life, that is where it is strongest—the beating of a heart shows life in a living being; it is impossible to live without a heart. It’s everywhere—inside Lloyd, in his comrades, his students, his masters, nature around him. His love for the world is his true self and makes his heart powerful. His goodness gives him strength. His drive to save the world fuels his passion. Life is inside of him, but it can also be taken away. It can heal, but also hurt. When it is taken away, overused, or corrupted, it leaves him weakened and sick. But it can save his life in a fight—and it has. It is a combination of the core elements of Creation: Lightning, Ice, Fire, and Earth—LIFE (thank you @secretlyharumi for helping me realize this!). They can be utilized individually, but also combined into something potent and beautiful. Without life, nothing would exist. It is the thread of the universe, stitching together things similar and different; big and small.
“I’m already the Golden Ninja. How much more power do I need?” “You’ve only scratched the surface! You have the potential to move mountains. Power of the First Spinjitzu Master!”
I like the idea the Ninja's personalities and powers are mixed
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk
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skzdarlings · 1 year
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the same but different | the threesome series ; skz ; han/reader/felix
masterlist.
threesome series part 3/4.
You grew up with Felix and Jisung.  Your definition of normal has always been unique, considering Felix is a faerie and magically connected to Jisung.  So even though you are dating Jisung, when Felix tells you he needs to marry to keep up appearences in the faerie court, you see no reason to say no…
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pairing: han jisung/reader/lee felix content info: sexual content. threesome. faerie au. this is an almost 16k word read. one day i will meet my maker and have to atone for that. warning for some ambiguous motivations plus general freaky faerie and supernatural stuff. felix and jisung have a magical connection, reader does not know the details but it seems they can physically feel each other's reactions and urges and they do a lot of the same things in an uncanny way. there is a 'consummation ritual' that involves being watched but reader is clever about it.
:)
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Autumnal flurries follow Han Jisung everywhere, little tornadoes of red-and-gold kicking up an elemental fuss wherever he steps. It might be a remnant of his time with the faerie folk, or maybe a coincidence, or maybe he is such a blustery font of chaos that he is simply kicking up wind storms on his own. 
He totters into the café with his usual trail of leaves, much to the displeasure of the bus boy who follows with a broom.  The wind gets restless at the window.  It throws itself against the pane with a heavy, reverberating thunder as if nature is knocking in pursuit of Jisung’s attention.  You watch a few pine cones hurl themselves at the glass before everything settles down on its own. 
Jisung pays it no mind.  He slides into the booth across from you, heaving a big dramatic breath. 
“Good afternoon,” you say, amused with your boyfriend’s theatrics.  They are as constant as his flurries.   
“Yo, is it, ‘cause ah, HAHA—I’ve been having a day.”  He thunks his head on the back of the booth and pretends to fall asleep.  His round glasses skew with the loll of his head.
Jisung dressed up for today’s date.  He is wearing a beige coat that flatters his warm complexion plus that cute checkered scarf you gave him last winter.   You don’t mind his usual hoodies and caps as it always puts a swagger in his step, but you appreciate his effort even if it is a little random. 
He lifts his head with another musical sigh, golden blonde hair fluttering from his breath.  His big glasses make his dark eyes even bigger and you smile again.
“Hi,” you say sweetly.
He whimpers with more theatrical misery. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he says like it is the most painful fact in the world.  “Why are you so beautiful?  And funny, and smart, and mine.  If you weren’t gonna be ugly and horrible, the least you could have done is reject me.  It wouldn’t have been so bad.  I could have been a lonely suffering artist, hidden away in a basement, composing symphonies for the beautiful woman out of my league.”
“I think you just described the Phantom of the Opera,” you say.
“Even better.”  Jisung sighs wistfully.  “He lived in an underground sex dungeon, right?  I don’t think he even paid rent.”   
You laugh into your hot chocolate. 
“What’s gotten into you?” you say.  It’s a rhetorical question.  Jisung is always a little silly. 
Your playful boyfriend thumps his hands on the table and glares past you, out the window. 
“Faeries,” he says brusquely.  “And their stupid faerie bullshit. My life is a nightmare and an arthouse horror movie and no one has ever suffered more than me—oooh, is that a chocolate croissant?”
You slap his hand when he reaches for your pastry.   He yelps like you chopped it off. 
“Jisungie,” you say, lifting an eyebrow, “what do you mean faerie bullshit?” 
He pouts spectacularly while unknotting his scarf.  He speaks in a watery, despondent voice, very contrary to his usual goofiness, “What do you think I mean?”
This, it seems, is also rhetorical as you have no opportunity to answer.  The bell jingles above the door and a little shiver moves down your spine. 
Unlike Jisung, you have never been to the faerie realm, but you have a gift for recognizing a supernatural presence.  Everything catches your eye as if they are sparkling fireflies, no matter their efforts to hide. 
The courtly fae, the ones that look human, have a tendency to cast enchantments both literal and metaphorical, their impossible beauty captivating to any human eye.  You are not immune to their gravitas, the way space seems to warp around them like earth is little more than gelatinous mire, but you can sense their other-worldliness before seeing them.   This is most likely due to exposure.  You did, after all, grow up with a faerie. 
You look to the doorway.  
Ah.  Speaking of. 
“Oh my god,” Jisung whines.  “He said he’d give me time to tell you.” He steals your hot chocolate and takes a swig like it’s hard vodka. 
“Tell me,” you repeat.  “Tell me what?” 
Though you are talking to Jisung, you cannot help but look over at his… his…
His Felix. 
Felix smiles when he sees you.  He scrunches his nose cutely and it makes his constellation of dark freckles dance on his sunny face. 
The freckles have always been an intriguing part of his glamour – for his human-like appearance is a mask shrouding his true faerie form – because faeries typically regard such things as imperfections.   Perhaps the freckles are residual from his time in the human realm, as Jisung’s flurries are the opposite. 
Felix is unbelievably beautiful.  He is wearing mortal clothes but he does not look truly human.  There’s something in his movements, fluid and dance-like, sometimes too swift to perceive.  His blonde hair catches the light with a perfect glow at every angle, his slender frame flawlessly draped in a black long-coat and a flattering black sweater.  His lovely ringed fingers part the air with his little wave and his perfectly pink mouth curls up in a sweet smile.  His dark eyes seem to sparkle.  
He crosses the restaurant in a few strides, quicker than a human would.  He smiles the whole time. 
“Hello,” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter.  Or maybe you’re the butter, his voice the knife, gliding right down the centre of you and settling low in your belly.  It has always had that effect. 
“Felix, hello,” you say in that quivery way you always greet him.   You grew up with both Jisung and Felix but Felix flits off to the faerie world when it suits him, and every time he returns you find yourself awestruck by him, as if you had never truly seen him before. 
Jisung smacks his head down on the surface of the table.  You and Felix look at him, you with considerable more concern.  Felix just draws his mouth into a flat line, neither smiling nor frowning, more like he anticipated his… his… his Jisung would behave this way. 
“Is it okay if I sit?”  Felix asks, pointing to the spot beside Jisung.  Jisung is somewhat sprawled in the booth but this doesn’t seem to concern Felix.  When you nod, he smiles, smooths out his coat, and simply bumps Jisung with his hip to squish himself into the booth. 
Jisung whimpers again, resting his head on the wall and pouting at it. 
“So,” Felix says.  He folds his hands on the table and tips his head, looking at you.  “How are you doing these days, hmm?” 
Faeries are known for their decorum.  It can turn sour very quickly, but it is imperative to adhere to rules of hospitality and general politeness.  
It is still strange and unnerving to have a faerie prince plunk himself into your booth and smile at you so politely.  Especially when you haven’t seen Felix in more than a year.   A year and fifteen days, to be specific, because Jisung has counted them all.  Jisung complains endlessly when Felix visits but he complains even more when he’s gone for too long. 
You think Felix must have returned to the human realm a while ago.  Jisung is usually friendly when he firsts sees him, but right now he is glaring. 
“What?”  Felix looks at Jisung.  They cock their heads at each other, the same angle, same time. 
It is always funny seeing them side-by-side.  Singularly, they look nothing alike, perhaps because Felix has intentionally deviated his glamour from being identical.  Jisung has a round face, cartoonishly cute at times, his build bulkier from his somewhat erratic workout schedule.   Felix is all sharp lines with a pointed elegance to his features, though his presence fills what space his slender body does not.  Their only similarity is their hair, similarly bouncy, alike in length, and identically shaded.  Right now it is a matching blonde. 
Despite their ample differences, there is an uncanny sameness to them.  They move the same way, tip their heads at the same time, roll their eyes in tandem.  They even take a breath at the same time.  You are certain if you pressed a hand to each of their chests, you would find their hearts beating to the same steady cadence.   
Felix was once a changeling.  Faeries sometimes swap their infants for human ones, occasionally for fun, oftentimes when their offspring is sickly or malformed.  Once a changeling swap has occurred, the faerie and human are inexorably linked to one another.  If the human parents try to kill the faerie or let it die, it will also kill their child, so it is in their best interest to nurse the sickly baby and hope the faeries swap them back. 
Felix was born too soon, a shrivelled little creature, third son of the autumn high prince’s third wife.  His mother swapped him for Jisung, stealing the little mortal away in his infancy.  Jisung’s mother was not a bewildered, simpering mortal, however.  Her resilience and intelligence was part of the family’s initial allure, but it was also the downfall of the changeling operation.  She ventured into the faerie realm and won back her son, plus the right to see the lonely faerie prince that had been so unceremoniously abandoned by his unloving family. 
She returned to the mortal world with Jisung and Felix.  The changeling prince spent his childhood bouncing between the human realm and the world of faerie.   You grew up next door to Jisung and the three of you have been a tight-knit trio since before you can remember. 
You love Felix just as much as you love Jisung, it’s just that… the faerie-ness complicates things.  You aren’t sure Felix really loves you or Jisung in a way you understand.  Even now, his enquiry after your well-being seems more like a necessary script than genuine question.  He will be uneasy until you complete your side of the exchange. 
“I’m good, Felix,” you say.  “How are you?”
He smiles, freckles dancing.  “Good,” he says.  “Thank you.”  
Felix cracks his neck and Jisung is compelled to do the same, though he looks irritated about it.  The depth of their connection has always been ambiguous to you, but sometimes Jisung feels phantom aches and pains, urges that come out of nowhere and pester him like an itch until he satisfies them.  
He seems impatient today, his glare not subsiding for a second.  
“You said I could have time to tell her,” Jisung says. 
“I gave you time,” Felix replies calmly. 
“You gave me like five minutes, man!”
“It doesn’t take more than five minutes,” Felix  says.  He seems genuinely perplexed that Jisung would believe otherwise.  He looks at Jisung with a head tilt that Jisung mirrors, then they both look at you.  “Hi,” Felix says.  “Will you marry me?  See.  That was less than five minutes.  It was five syllables, actually.  Well, I guess if you had asked it, you would have said, ‘Will you marry Felix,’ so it would have been six syllables, but that’s still less than five minutes, even if you streeeeetch it ouuuut—”
“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Jisung says, then plants his forehead in his palm.  “That came out wrong.” 
Felix does not plant his forehead in his palm but he does rest his chin in his hand. 
“So,” he says to you, smiling. “Will you?  Two syllables, by the way.”
“Shut up about the syllables, dude.” 
“Wait,” you say, interrupting their inane blabber.  If you leave them to it, Jisung and Felix will dance in verbal circles for hours and still not clarify anything.  “Marry you?  Why would I— Felix, you know Jisung and I— I don’t understand what’s—”
You love Jisung and Felix.  You find them equally attractive, in their own way and as a complimentary pair.  As much as you adore Jisung, you feel bereft when Felix is gone for a long time.  Your crush on Felix was as inevitable as your romance with Jisung.  Only where that relationship has long since solidified into a stable love, you and Felix have never done much more than hug. 
Jisung and Felix, on the other hand, have shared their own intimacies.  You caught them kissing back when you were teenagers.  You got pouty rather than angry, viciously jealous of both of them at once.  Jisung was too flustered to speak, mostly chirping like a frightened bird, while Felix just smiled and cheerily said, “Jisungie says we’re practicing.”
“Practicing?” you asked, hands on hips.  “Practicing for what exactly?”
Felix frowned, looking confused, like it had never occurred to him to follow that line of questioning. 
“For girls!”  Jisung exclaimed. 
Felix snapped his fingers and nodded.  “Right,” he said.  “Girls. That was it.  Wait.”  He looked confused again and pointed to you. “Isn’t she a girl?” 
“She doesn’t count,” Jisung said, getting redder by the second.  You threw a shoe at him and stormed out of the house. 
That was a long time ago.  That momentary flicker of suggestion was the only time Felix brought up potentially kissing you.  Even then, it seemed less desirous than pragmatic.  
And now, for some reason, he is asking you to marry him. 
“Oh my god, man, maybe if you used more than five syllables, she would get what’s going on,” Jisung says.  His gaze softens when he looks at you.  He reaches across the table to take your hand, though it takes you a second to respond.  Your fingers are frozen stiff around your mug.  “Baby,” he says in a soft, apologetic voice, “I know it sounds a bit strange, but I promise I can explain.” 
“I have to get married,” Felix interrupts, ignoring when Jisung scowls at him.  “I think it’s just for, uhhh, appearances, basically.  My brother Chan just became high prince and I’m the only one of my mum’s kids who isn’t married and she thinks it makes her look bad because all my dad’s other kids have their lives together… anyway, she said either I find a bride for myself or she was going to give me one.  And, uh, she’s not very, hmm, generous, is she?”
Definitely a rhetorical question.  You do not need to have met the faerie princess to know of her predilection for malice.  Felix would most likely be saddled with some Shakespearean donkey-headed monstrosity for all his days.  Felix, being Felix, would smile blithely and accept his awful fate, saying little on the matter when prompted. 
Felix is like that.  He shows neither amity nor animosity to much.  His emotions, whatever they are, manifest unpredictably.  He smiles a lot of blank smiles.  Occasionally he bursts into random tears that flood out of him with terrifying distress.  It comes upon him unexpectedly, so big that it is almost theatrical.  You think he might be mimicking expressions of human pain to convey whatever interior hurt he is feeling, however severe or benign, then it just stops until next time.  
He is not the sort to wail and harass you.  Even if he was desperate, he would not force you to marry him.  Looking into his dark eyes, you know that much.  There are plenty of stories the world over where supernatural princes steal mortal girls from their beds, where they compel them to dance until their feet bleed, where they fill their heads with songs that play until the human goes mad and dies in some anguished pit in their own mind. 
There are not many stories where they propose in a café.
“Felix, you idiot!”  Jisung smacks Felix on the arm.  “You didn’t even tell her the important part.” 
“Oh yeaaah,” Felix says. 
Jisung scoffs and looks at you, his expression soft again.  He squeezes your hand.
“Baby,” he says, “you know how Felix and I have a special, um, connection?” 
You know he means the changeling magic but you think about them kissing.  You push the image aside, as well as the lingering jealously, and nod. 
“Right,” Jisung says.  “We’re like… tied together and shit, right?  Like if I got hit by a bus, Felix would also go splat.”
“Faeries don’t splat,” Felix says, bristled. 
“Splat,” Jisung says sweetly, “like a big stupid faerie pancake.” 
“Jisung,” you say, “are you going to make a point?” 
“The point,” Jisung says, “is Felix is gonna live a long time, if he doesn’t go splat.  So that means… I’m gonna live a long time too.”
“If,” Felix interrupts, “he comes with me to live among the folk.” 
The fair folk.  Another name for the courtly fae.  Divided into seasonal realms, the four courts host a variety of faerie life.  Felix is from the autumn court and Jisung was spirited to it as baby.  You have never crossed from this world into the faerie world.  You know the stories better than anyone, almost more familiar with the foreign realm than the world around you, but its reality has only ever been a distant dream. 
This seems like the world’s strangest break-up: your boyfriend leaving you for his changeling faerie to live an immortal life in the faerie realm.
Except it’s not a break-up.  It’s a proposal. 
“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” you say, juggling feelings of confusion and jealousy and desire.  “What does that have to me with me?  And getting married?” 
“It will bond us together too,” Felix says, smiling again.  “Do you understand?  Isn’t that wonderful?  The three of us can be together for always.  I think you’ll really like it.”  He looks sideways at Jisung and adds, “And you’re smarter than him when it comes to the fair folk.  I would feel better if Jisung had your company.”
“What?” Jisung slaps the table.  “What are you talking about?  I’m the one who’s been there!  I am so totally super smart about faeries all the time!” 
“You once ate a magic apple and grew a tail,” Felix says.   
“You know I get snacky after my naps.  Besides, I got better.  Suck on some salty iron and boom, no tail.” 
Felix sighs, exasperated, and Jisung sighs, even more exasperated. 
“Please marry me,” Felix says imploringly.  “For all of us.” 
Felix cannot lie.  Faerie magic ranges from miniscule to immense, but lying is an impossibility regardless of rank. 
An inability to lie does not guarantee honesty. The truth can be obfuscated.  Faeries are clever with words, cleverer still what they reveal at all.  
Felix has not lied.  He needs to marry.  It would bond you.  You are smarter than Jisung when it comes to the fair folk.
Felix has not told the whole truth.  He does not need to marry you specifically.  He would be happy with just Jisung, you think.  They have something special, something you have always watched from the outside.  You know a lot about faeries but you do not belong to their world.  Felix could keep Jisung safe.  You are a spare. 
Despite the loving stare of your two oldest friends, you feel woefully insecure.  You take your hands back and rest them in your lap, staring morosely into your cooling hot chocolate. 
“Baby?” Jisung says gently.
You look up.  They look equally concerned.  They reach for you at the same time then look at each other.  They mutely come to an accord and Felix takes your hand.  You shiver immediately. 
“Sweetheart,” Felix says.  “It’s just me.  I won’t… I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I… I want to know… I mean, do you not…”
“You don’t want to come with us?”  Jisung asks, his bottom lip wobbling.  Tears spill over his cheeks seconds later.  “I-I-I know it’s a bit weird.  But you’ve always talked about wanting to see it anyway.   And you don’t have any family here anymore.  Are you worried about the royal court thing?  Because I’m gonna be there and Felix says we’ll spend most of our time at his bower anyway and okay I don’t even know what that means and I didn’t wanna seem stupid so I didn’t ask—”
“It’s just my tree-house, Jisung,” Felix says.
“It’s just his tree-house,” Jisung sobs. 
“It isn’t that,” you say.  You reach for Jisung so you are holding both their hands.  You give them a squeeze.  “I love you both.  So much.  It hurts a little sometimes because of how much.  And I’m scared… I’m scared of being left behind.” 
They both pause.  Felix looks more bewildered than any supernatural creature in history, you are sure.  They are inviting you to come along and you express fear of the opposite.  It must be incomprehensible to his mind. 
Apparently it also confuses Jisung because he softly whispers, “What the fuck.”
You bring their hands together and withdraw your own touch. 
“I just mean…”  You are too embarrassed to vocalize it. 
Recognition lights their eyes at the same time.  Jisung rips his hand away. 
“I can’t be alone with Felix forever!”  Jisung cries.  “Are you crazy?  We need you!  Without you it’s just… just… just us.  It’s nothing, it’s empty.  You… you’re our person.  If you’re not there too… then… then… then I’m not going either.  I’d rather get old and die with you than live forever without you.” 
Felix’s mouth opens and closes with a storm of unspoken thoughts.  He has sobbed spectacularly at birthday cards and scraped knees, but he doesn’t cry now. 
Jisung’s exclamation rattles you.  It was such a genuine burst of emotion, so rich with devotion that you feel silly for ever doubting either of them.  Empty, he said.  You never considered what kind of echo might exist between them, how your presence filled it and made it better, not worse. 
You intend to remedy your blunder, an apology on your lips, but then Felix finds his words.
“I’ll tell you my name,” he says.  “My true name.  Will that be enough to convince you?”
Enough?
Enough?
You and Jisung stare at Felix with your jaws dropped.  Felix clenches his jaw, staring back at you. 
Faeries go by many names in their long lifetimes.  Felix was the name Jisung’s mother gave him, but it is not his true faerie name.  Names are powerful things.  If a mortal has a faerie’s true name, they can ensorcell and compel that faerie to do their bidding.  It essentially enslaves them. 
Faeries do not freely reveal their true names, not to other faeries and certainly not to mortals.  Tricky mortals have uncovered faerie names, stories of humans triumphing over wicked creatures, but you cannot think of a single story where the faerie got down on one knee and willingly offered it.
Because that’s what Felix does.  He gets out of the booth and gets down on one knee in front of you, then looks up at you with dark, desperate eyes. 
“I’ll tell you right now if that’s what it takes,” he says.  His hands are shaking.  The wind starts knocking at the window again, harder than before.  Leaves form columns of colour, shooting up to the sky, scattering in every direction. 
“Don’t,” you say.  “Don’t.”  The trust this requires is extraordinarily substantial.  It means more than any simple I love you.  Maybe Felix feels human love or maybe he feels something different.  Maybe losing you is not like losing a person, but like losing a limb or something equally vital.  It must be, for him to offer up his entire being in a word. 
The gesture means more than you can say.  The best way to reciprocate it is by refusing it. 
“It’s enough,” you say, choked up.  “It’s enough that you would offer.” 
“I’ll tell you,” he says, like he thinks you don’t believe him.  But of course you believe him.  He can’t lie. 
“I know,” you say.  “I’m sorry I doubted you.  Come here please.” 
Felix sits beside you and lets you wrap your arms around his neck.  He is tentative at first but then he looks at Jisung and holds you tighter.   The world outside settles once more. 
“Wow, that was intense,” Jisung says.  He grabs a napkin and blows his nose.  “Wheeew.  Wednesdays, am I right?”  
Felix pulls back, just enough so he can see your face.  You feel shy under his rapt attention, flush with warmth when his fingertips sweep from your temple to your jaw.  He holds your chin and tilts your face up.  He seems to be studying you.  This close, you can see all the shades of brown in his eyes, even flecks of dark, dark green and threads of gold.  There is a shimmer to the black of his iris.  If he turned a certain way, you think his glamour would disappear.  You think he would be beautiful anyway. 
He exhales.  His breath flutters over your lips. 
“Will you come with us?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling so soft and low.  “Will you marry me?”
You look at Jisung.  You cannot imagine any circumstance in which a man would look so eager for his girlfriend to accept another man’s proposal, yet this feels completely normal. 
Normal.  The three of you have always had your own definition of that word, haven’t you? 
You look at Felix, at the shimmer of his bold gaze.  
“Yes,” you say.  “Yes, I will.” 
Felix smiles and Jisung lets out a whoop!  You laugh, turning aside to wipe an unbidden tear from your eye.  Felix touches your cheek.  He looks more entranced than anything, blinking long and slow like a content cat. 
Jisung is still celebrating.  He shoves half your croissant in his mouth while you are distracted.  Then, with his cheeks stuffed full of pastry, his eyes get wide. 
“Ohyeah, weforgotsumffing!” he says around a mouthful of food.  He coughs, swallowing too quickly.  Felix clears his throat and passes Jisung your mug.  Jisung gulps it down while you and Felix exchange an affectionate glance.  
Then Jisung clinks the cup on the table and looks at you, sheepish. 
“Haha,” he says.  “By the way, you have to fuck Felix.” 
-
There are entrances to faerie in the deepest part of the woods.  Doorways are found in unlikely patterns that most humans will declare peculiar but innocuous: rings of spotted mushrooms, circular patches of darkening grass, shadows that arch with a perfect curve beneath a canopy of leaves.   
You have known this all your life, but you also knew to never go looking.  Not on your own.  A mortal wandering into faerie is not so different from a lamb wandering into a wolf den.  
Even with a wolf escort, you feel like that vulnerable lamb.  You hold hands with Jisung the entire trek, trailing behind Felix who hums as he lightly dances his way through even the harshest terrain.  Finally you come across two branches, twining up and up until they tangle like two hands clasping across a chasm.  
Winded from the exertion of the hike, you and Jisung come to a slow stop to catch your breaths.  Felix hurries ahead, his face brightening as he approaches the archway. 
“You ready?”  Jisung asks, squeezing your hand.
“Yeah,” you say.  “You?”
“Oh, hell yeah, baby,” he says with a laugh.  You look at him only to find his gaze turned on the archway, faraway with reminiscence.  “I remember it, you know,” he says.
“What?” you ask.  Jisung has never mentioned this before. “But you were just a baby.”
He looks at you with surprise, like he didn’t expect an answer.  Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud.  He laughs, deflecting the tension, and rubs the back of his neck. 
“Yeah, I know,” he says.  “Magic I guess, or something.  I dunno.  I just know I remember it.  There’s stuff that happened last week I can’t remember.  In a year, or fifty, or a hundred, I don’t know what I’ll remember from here.  But I remember this place like I never left.” 
You squeeze his hand again.  He looks at you and smiles, squeezing back. 
“Come on!”  Felix calls.  He is standing at the archway, waving to you.  He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a leather satchel slung across his chest.  The mundanity of his clothing looks unnatural.  If he looked inhuman in that café, he looks even less human now.  His glamour is in tact, his freckles pronounced, but there is a quality to him that defies logic.  He looks like he could take off flying and it would not be unusual. 
You and Jisung exchange a final glance then approach.  Felix smiles and walks backwards through the archway.  You can see him clearly as if he merely took another step in the woods.  He holds out his hands, you and Jisung taking one each, then you step through as well. 
Oh.
October orange sunlight pours through the trees, the early sunset colour of a clear autumn day at its close.  The woods are a mosaic of colour: green, orange, yellow, red, brown, little swirls of leaves flying from branch to branch, gathering in piles and scattering again.  You watch leaves settle over a pile of bones only for the whole apparatus to knit itself together.  You stumble to a surprised stop as a cat made of bones and leaves unfurls before your eyes.  It scampers up to Felix, rattling like an ivory windchime and somehow still purring.  Felix scratches behind its leafy ears, smiling and greeting the kitty affectionately. 
“Come on,” Felix says, not noticing the way you and Jisung are completely arrested by the sight of the cat.  “It’s not far from here.” 
It is the domicile of the autumn court.   It is built into the woods, or swallowed by it, grand structures built within and around trees, some abodes very high in the sunlit branches, some disappearing into the ground.  They are decorated with garlands of dried flowers, gardens of gourds and harvest fruit weaving around the lower rooms.  You jump, startled, when a pile of nearby leaves rises up, revealing itself to be a deer, presumably also made of bones beneath its leafy surface. 
“Whoa,” Jisung says, an apt summary.   The leaf animals have no eyes, the faces uncanny.  The deer turns its neck with a click of bone, dipping its head in a respectful bow to Felix as he passes. 
Felix doesn’t notice.  He is watching you and Jisung now, smiling with so much mirth you think he might start glowing. 
“Do you like it?” he asks, looking directly at you.  Maybe he knows what Jisung is feeling without asking.  You try to school your expression to show more than just awe. 
“It’s beautiful,” you say.  You can see how a mortal could be a swept away by the beauty of the faerie court.  Between the glitter of crunchy leaves and the wafts of cinnamon and spice, it fantastically overwhelms the senses.  You can also see how quickly this dream could turn into a nightmare, if the sun was eclipsed and the undead creatures of the earth turned their vacant eyes on you.
You do not convey the complexity of your thoughts.  Felix takes for granted that you always tell the truth, even though he knows you can lie.  You think he sometimes forgets.   His whole face crinkles up with a smile now, maybe too severely, but you appreciate his attempt to render delight for you. 
“A little further to the palace,” Felix says. 
“Palaaace,” Jisung says in a sing-song, squeezing your hand.  He almost knocks you over when a bird swoops by his head.  This raven is real, not made of leaves, and it perches on Felix’s shoulder.  “Birds,” Jisung says woefully.  “There’s always a freaky-ass bird.” 
“This is one of mine,” Felix says, scratching its head.  “I think my brother sent it.”
You watch as the bird leans in, eerily person-like in how it seems to whisper in his ear before fluttering off.   Felix neither smiles nor frowns, his mouth drawing into a thin line as he comes to a halt.
“What is it?”  Jisung asks.  His startled tone reveals that Felix might be perturbed. 
“They’re expecting us,” Felix says, gazing ahead as if he can see your destination through all the foliage.  “They’re already preparing our wedding.”
“What?” you and Jisung say at the same time.  You look at each other then you ask, “Did you tell them already?”  Felix only proposed yesterday and he has not returned to the faerie realm, unless he snuck away overnight, but you don’t think so.  He spent the night with you and Jisung, Jisung insisting on being the little spoon between two big spoons.  Felix had his arm around Jisung and his hand in yours all night. 
“No,” Felix answers.  “I didn’t say anything yet.”
“This feels spoooooky,” Jisung sings, then laughs nervously. 
“Maybe,” Felix says with a casual shrug of his shoulders.  “Maybe not.  Let’s go.” 
You and Jisung exchange another look, but you have gone too far to turn around, so you follow Felix.  He leads you to a red-bricked path that thickens with moss the further you walk.    When you reach the base of a hill, Felix stops to hold your hand. 
“Don’t look back until I say,” he says.  “You could fall.  Keep your eyes on me or the cat.  She knows the way too.” 
The cat is running around your feet, mewling, though the clack of its jaws is louder than its airy voice.  You decide to look at Felix instead.  Apparently Jisung picks the cat because he coos, “Aww, she’s kinda cute in a freaky way.  What’s her name?” 
“Babyeater,” Felix says. 
“Oh nooo,” Jisung replies.
You follow Felix and the cat up an incline that grows so steep that at one point you are walking perpendicular to the forest below.   You look at Felix the whole time, squeezing his hand tightly.   His returned squeeze is reassuring.  You remind yourself this is Felix, the same boy who kissed your scraped knees better, who sat through all your childhood tea parties even though he never really understood the concept of playing pretend, the same boy who has dutifully and lovingly obliged your every whim, however much he failed to understand its human purpose.  For Felix, it was always enough if it made you happy. 
He leads you safely over the crest of the hill, then it’s just a few more steps through a darker patch of woods before you are stepping into a huge clearing, bright and orange and gold.   Three massive, broad trees stand in the distance, an elaborate stone citadel built around the trunks.   There are faeries and other supernatural entities wandering around an autumnal garden, some scurrying with bundles of lights and candles and drapery.   The clearing and castle have been beautifully and frightfully decorated with pumpkins and dried flowers and bones. 
“Is this for us?”  Jisung asks.  “Uh, I mean, for you?”
“It looks like it,” Felix says uncertainly.  “I don’t know how they—”
Jisung screams, a proper shrill yell right in your ear, when something bursts out of some shrubbery and blocks his path.  You stumble back with wide-eyed surprise and Jisung instinctively shields you even in his terror.  Felix is not scared, his face neutral as ever, but his connection to Jisung has him reacting similarly, guarding you with his body. 
An eyeless husk straightens itself, bony limbs stretching for the sky.  You hear the crack of a neck-bone and the flutter of leaves, then all at a once a glamour settles over the faerie, revealing a handsome young man with short brown hair and dark eyes. 
“He’s still loud,” the faerie says.  “You were loud as a baby too.  Wahhh-wahhhh-wahhhhhh—” 
“Seungmin,” Felix says, nonplussed.  “Thank you for the raven.” 
Felix bows and the faerie, Seungmin, who must be the aforementioned brother, bows back as per the dictation of decorum. 
“Chan is mad he had to find out the news from Hyunjin,” Seungmin says, his mouth quirked in a smirky little half-smile.  “You better to be ready to grovel.”   
“Ah,” Felix says.   He looks over at you and Jisung who are clinging to each other, still wide-eyed with surprise.  “Hyunjin is a prince from the spring court,” Felix says.  “He can see the future.”
“Oh,” Jisung says.  “Yeah, sure, makes sense.”  He looks at you with a face that says, it definitely does not make sense. 
“Spring court,” Seungmin says with a little eye-roll.  “They burst in here with a dramatic fuss like always.  It’s embarrassing that the high prince of autumn learned about his favourite little brother’s engagement from a different court...”
“I can’t help that Hyunjin sees the future,” Felix says, more disgruntled than you have ever heard him.  It occurs to you, as you look between him and Seungmin, that Felix stands out here just as much as he did in the human world.  It is different, as here it is the little cracks of humanity that fracture his faerie face.  Not just the glamour, the freckles or his clothes, but some intrinsic bearing.   Maybe it is the sameness to Jisung, the way they block you with the same stance, the way they shuffle on the same foot.  Maybe it’s something else, but it is suddenly pronounced. 
Seungmin does not appear to notice Felix’s tone.  He just gives another bow which Felix is forced to return.  You see Jisung twitching and you squeeze his hand. 
“You don’t have to bow,” you whisper.    
“I know,” he says, then bobs twice in an aborted half-bow. 
You sigh.  You jump when Jisung shrieks again, startled by a little leaf-dog that comes running out of the shrubbery.  It is being pursued by some frantic sprites.  They yammer at the puppy in a faerie tongue as it starts to chase the cat.  All their bones are clattering as they run around, cat then dog then sprites.  Seungmin blinks at the fiasco then looks at Felix. 
“Let’s go,” Seungmin says.  He turns and gives you a bow, as is polite, then looks at Jisung and says, “Boo!” 
Jisung jumps and Seungmin cackles, bowing. 
Felix gives Seungmin a little shove, his mouth a grim line again. 
You follow Seungmin further into the garden, coming upon a feast that seems to be currently underway even while servants continue to set the party around the guests.   Food appears and disappears off the table, some faeries eating and some of them throwing food at the servants.   You have heard stories of ensorcelled human servants being trapped in places like this, but you only see faeries so far.  It doesn’t put you at ease exactly, but you don’t feel quite as frightened. 
Then all the faerie guests at the grand table stop and look at you.   Then you are frightened. 
“Hi,” Jisung squeaks. 
It is nervously and thoughtlessly blurted, but it would be impolite to ignore it, so a chorus of “hi” and “hello” circles the table in return. 
Most of them have a glamour of some kind.  A stockier, handsome faerie with bright orange hair stands.   He is on the other side of the long banquet table but manifests in front of you in mere seconds.  You are very alarmed to find him wearing bandages under a black army coat, the white wraps stained with blood.  It is very at odds with his deeply dimpled smile. 
“Hi there,” he says, looking past Jisung and straight at you.  “Wow, Felix really did it.  Welcome.  Call me Chan.  Sorry for the, ah, blood, I think it upsets humans?”  This apology seems sincere enough, accompanied with a tilt of the head, but he offers no further explanation.  He pulls you into an embrace, tucking you into the fold of one muscular arm, and laughing with an unexpectedly adorable giggliness.  “We have a human little sister.  That’s fun, yeah?”  He looks at the table and everyone nods and claps, only a few characters mutely unresponsive. 
You smile, maybe.  It feels a bit boxy.  Your brain is fitting all the pieces together, recalling that Seungmin referred to Chan as the high prince of autumn.   Chan is thus the highest font of power in this faerie court and he is hugging you. 
The hug pulls you away from Jisung who moves closer to Felix.  You look at them, watching as they hold hands, trying to convey with your eyes that you would rather be with them.
There is no time for any extraction attempt because a fuss stirs at one end of the table.  A pink-haired faerie bursts out of his seat.  He is long-limbed, tall and spindly, and he runs around the huge table at a fairly human speed.  He is wearing a billowy green jacket and a long string of pearls, his pastel appearance at some odds to the deepness of the autumn court. 
“Hey Fee-lix! Heeey!” he says, very literally bouncing when he reaches Felix.   
“Aha, hi, Hyunjin,” Felix says.   
“You brought humans!”  Hyunjin says, sweeping down to look at Jisung, then turning his dark-eyed stare to you.  His glamour is astonishingly beautiful, as bright as his pearls, a face like a handsome marble statue and a supermodel’s stature.  But he slinks like a ferret, as smirky as a fox.   “The bride,” he says with something of a wistful sigh.  His dark eyes are sparkling.  “A faerie and a human.  How romantic.  I love romance.” 
Then you are freed from hugging Chan, but only because Hyunjin cups your face in both hands and kisses you.  Not a greeting kiss either, but a deep kiss.  You sputter when he licks you. 
“Um,” Jisung squeaks. 
“This is High Prince Hyunjin.  Of the spring court, of course,” Chan says amiably, not doing anything to stop the high prince of the spring court from sucking face with his brother’s bride. 
Hyunjin stops on his own, smiling at you fondly.  “Pretty girl,” he says, stroking his whole hand over your face.  “I wish I could marry you.”  This is spoken without much longing, but it must be true or he couldn’t say it.   
He turns his sights on Jisung next.  Jisung straightens, eyes darting around for an escape. 
“The changeling baby,” Hyunjin says.  “He’s so cute now.  Can I marry this one, Felix?” 
Jisung’s eyes widen, looking at Felix, then at you. 
Felix looks unamused.  “No,” he says simply. 
Hyunjin pouts, slinking up to Jisung.  He grabs his face, long fingers grasping him tight.  Jisung’s lips part with surprise, his cheeks puffing when Hyunjin shakes his head around. 
“That’s not fair,” Hyunjin says.  “You already have one.” 
“I said no,” Felix repeats. 
Hyunjin just sighs.  “I knew you’d say that,” he says.  “Oh well.”  Then he kisses Jisung full on the mouth too, Jisung squeaking through the very wet onslaught.  Hyunjin just smiles and strokes his face, then goes back to the table. 
Hyunjin’s self-introduction triggers a similar desire in the remaining guests.  Soon they are swarming you, forced into the vaguest semblance of a queue when Chan waves a demanding hand.  You meet Felix’s mother, who smiles and coos at you like she didn’t mandate a wife in the first place.  You meet Changbin, another half-brother of Felix, who thankfully follows the example set by Chan and not Hyunjin and simply hugs you.  He is so burly and strong that it lifts you off your feet, but he has enough restraint not to crush you, so that’s something.  
There are clusters of other faeries, all noisy, all dipping in bows or trying to kiss you, and all of them from the spring or autumn court.   A hush falls over the garden when the remaining guests approach for an introduction.  Felix finally appears at your side, Jisung too, standing on either side of you and holding your hands. 
“Winter and Summer,” Felix whispers as two courtly fae and their retinues step forward. 
You know very well why Felix deigns to warn you.  The autumn court and spring court, as per their seasonal equivalents, are shifting and transitory in many ways; they grow and they learn, and they often host humans, be it in a generous or malicious capacity.  The winter and summer courts are hostile to change, and both have little to do with humans at all.  Whatever human encounters have transpired in those courts have left few survivors to speak of it. 
Their glamours fit them strangely, like new clothes not yet broken in.   The first prince wears his glamour like a boy forced into dress clothes by a parent, walking with a stiff sort of discomfort.  His robes are coloured blue and yellow, long and loose, his blonde hair turning dark blue at the root.  His dimples are deep and cheekbones very sharp, and when he smiles he reveals a whole row of long, piercing teeth that he forgot to glamour altogether. 
You jump, staring aghast as the otherwise too-pretty prince sweeps into a bow.  He looks at Chan, sees him smiling, and copies the expression with a frightful brightness. 
“Prince Jeongin,” Felix says.  He squeezes your hand, reminding you to bow back. You do so swiftly.  “Summer.” 
“High Prince,” Jeongin says, laughing for some reason, a wheezing sound. 
“You have fourteen older brothers,” Felix says. 
“Had.”  Jeongin smiles again, his dimples deepening, his teeth glittering.  “I ate them.” 
“Oh,” Felix says. There is a pause as he looks at you then looks at Jeongin.  Your face reveals terror, you are certain, but Jeongin is waiting expectantly.  Felix weighs his words and says, “Uh.  You must be happy to be congratulated.” 
You wonder how you ever thought Felix was strange.  He seems so normal suddenly, the only one who finds something wrong with a person eating fourteen brothers.  If he did approve, he would not have to word his congratulations so strangely to avoid a lie. 
Unless he just did that to appease you, a small voice says in the back of your head. A different truth is not a lie.
You wish you were not such an overthinker.  This is Felix.   Your Felix.  Yours, yours.   As much yours as Jisung, who is breathing a little heavier, so it makes Felix breathe heavier, and their combined strain has you close to panting as well. 
You are thus all breathless when you meet the final prince, introduced as High Prince Minho of the winter court.  He is wearing dark clothes, apparently sans his usual furry winter accoutrements, and his glamour is a barely-there mask that vanishes when the light hits him at certain angles.  He wears it like a loosely tied scarf, grudgingly donned.  He has not glamoured his eyes, mismatched and vibrant and vacant of all human emotion.  He does not smile when he bows.   Like Jeongin, he does not hug or kiss you. 
He looks you over, his stare raking, then he does the same to Jisung.  Whatever he sees makes him laugh, though it is a derisive sound.   Then he looks at Felix and says, “They’re fragile.  Be careful, changeling.” 
When he leaves, Jisung whispers, “Honestly, that last one got me kinda hard.”
“Yeah,” Felix says, unhappily, “I know.”   
And just like that, you are trying very hard not to laugh. 
You look at Felix and find his returned gaze to be very affectionate.  You always thought his regards looked a little too precise, like he was concentrating on forming the appropriate expression, but compared to certain toothy grins and cold laughs, Felix looks positively alight with sentiment.   He still looks strange in his t-shirt and jeans, but you think he might look strange anyway. 
It never occurred to you before that Felix’s changeling life might have made him an oddity on both sides of the veil. 
You feel a pang of sympathy, suddenly. 
Felix looks down at where you are holding his hand.  You see his gaze flit across to where you hold Jisung’s hand as well.  It exacerbates that pang in your chest, recalling your own jealousy when you found them kissing, plus all the years spent wishing you shared their magical connection.  It never occurred to you that Felix might feel some type of way about you dating Jisung, about you and Jisung both being human.  Maybe it reminded he was an outcast wherever he went.  Always very close to being part of something, never quite belonging. 
Funny enough, Jisung has always been significantly more blasé.   He sets his sights on what he wants and it never occurs to him that he will not have it.  He has Felix, he dates you, you marry Felix, he lives forever.  You look at your human boyfriend, at the way his dark eyes seem to sparkle as he looks around the garden.  You think somehow, despite his occasional shrieks and frights, he looks more home here than Felix. 
“Right then!”  Chan suddenly claps in your face, startling you.  “It’s wedding time, yeah?  We’ve never had a human wedding here before but Hyunjin is an expert so he helped us out…” 
Two faerie servants rip you away from Felix and Jisung.  Hyunjin follows you, looking very keen, his hands clasped behind his back but his whole face lit up brightly.  His eagerness does not put you at ease, nor are you reassured by his seemingly “expert” advice.  Seeing as he thought it was appropriate to introduce himself by making out with you, you sincerely doubt he is the human expert he has proclaimed himself to be.  
Sure enough, the slapdash preparations are very random.  You are shoved into a very pretty dress, but then Hyunjin attempts to adorn you with both a veil and a headpiece, and you can see an array of other accessories from international wedding regalia.  Being as polite as possible, you decline the offer to any headpiece at all.   
“Wow,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face.  “You are so humble.  Humans are so amazing, the way they just let themselves be ugly.  Wow.  Wow.  I won’t interfere with your hideous but humble head.  Should we kiss again?”        
“I think it’s better we don’t,” you say.  “It might wrinkle the dress?”
He nods sagely.  “That would be bad,” he agrees.  “Especially because your head is so bare and horrible.  The dress is doing all the work.  Can I put flowers in your hair or do you really prefer to be ugly?” 
“Uh, flowers, yeah, sure,” you say.  He says everything so frankly that you somehow can’t feel offended.  A compliment would feel just as meaningless. 
“I’ve always wanted to attend a human wedding,” Hyunjin says.  “You know, spring is a very popular time for human weddings.  But humans are always dying so fast after, so it makes me sad to watch them properly.” 
“You feel sadness?” you ask.  Though Hyunjin and Felix seem quite different, perhaps you can glean an answer to the depth of faerie emotions.  Especially considering this marriage business feels like an entirely different beast now that you are in a wedding dress with an entire congregation of faeries sitting in a garden waiting for you.  It seemed like a simpler affair when it was just Felix and Jisung in a café booth.     
“Oh, of course,” Hyunjin says.  “I feel sad all the time.  I feel sad right now because you aren’t marrying me.”  He says this with a great deal of joviality, smiling at you like he’s proud of his supposed sadness.  
You decide not to ask more questions on that front, because you doubt his answers will be very helpful.  You do enquire after the wedding festivities.  You try not to frown at the very random assemblage of traditions he has baked into a single ceremony.  It sounds like a tedious affair but you decide to brace it, supposing it could be worse. 
“Then we all watch the royal consummation,” Hyunjin says casually, adding another flower to your hair. 
You grab his wrist without thinking, stopping him.
“Did I stab you?” he asks, blowing on your head to check for blood.  “Sorry.  I keep forgetting pins in heads kill humans.”  He says this with a lot of exasperation, like it’s a personal inconvenience to him that humans die so easily. 
“No, it’s not that,” you say.  He pops another peony on your head, manifesting the little buds out of thin air.  “What do you mean ‘we all watch the royal consummation?’  Who is ‘we’?”  
“The high princes, obviously,” he says, tucking a rose behind your ear. 
You stare ahead, mouth hanging open. 
Yesterday seems so long ago now, but Jisung and Felix did explain to you that the autumn court required an act of consummation to legitimize the marriage.  Apparently it has nothing to do with virginity or rearing heirs, mostly functioning as a ritual for the sake of itself.  Once faeries decide something is a rule they must follow it. 
You were very hot in the face the entire conversation.  Jisung seemed content to describe the way you need would have sex with his changeling faerie, but you were too embarrassed to meet either gaze. 
Maybe it would have been easier if you did not want to sleep with Felix. If it was just a necessity, it would be meaningless.
But you very much do desire Felix, even if he only smiled blithely during the discussion.  He seemed unaffected while you were very flustered. 
This is a very different type of flustered. 
“I was not told there would be an audience,” you finally say.
“There isn’t usually,” Hyunjin says.  “But that’s how human princes do it, if I remember.  A whole council watches.  Felix doesn’t have a council, though, so we’ll have to do it.  It would be very rude not to indulge your human traditions.  There!  All done.”
He steps back to admire your appearance.  You are still frazzled from the conversation, from the strong floral scent that is now wrapped around you, from everything. 
“You look—”  Hyunjin pauses, then, “—not horrible at all!  I did a very good job.  Now the wedding can start.  I’ll tell Chan to start killing the sacrificial wedding goats.   We only have one and it’s made of leaves and bones but I assumed that would be okay with you.  This way we can just keep killing the same one over and over again.  I’ll be right back.” 
“Can I—”  You feel panicked.  You need to see Jisung.  Hyunjin has you sequestered in some little golden alcove.  You do not want to be hunted down if you just flee, so you ask, “Can I go look at myself in a mirror?” 
“You’re testing me,” Hyunjin says, his long fingers covering his mouth with a surprised gasp.  Then he giggles.  “I passed!  I know you can’t look at the bride before the wedding.  Wait here!”  Then he disappears out the gate and around the corner. 
You sit down in a huff and close your eyes.  You try counting backwards from one hundred to calm yourself, but you reach the low twenties and still feel tense.   
Then you hear the patter of human footsteps.  You know it is a human because faeries scarcely disturb the ground where they walk.  You hear the crunch of leaves and lift your head, feeling a rush of relief with Jisung pokes his head into the alcove. 
“There you are,” he says.  “Felix is – uh – they’re getting him – dressed – and I wanted –  wanted you—” 
You stand as he talks, as his voice drifts, as his breath catches.  He looks down the length of your dress then back up, his dark eyes watery as he exhales with a gut-punching whoosh. 
“You look so beautiful, baby,” he says.  “This – this feels weird.  I know it’s – weird.  But it’s not – it’s not wrong, right?  It’s just weird.  But weird isn’t bad.   It’s just—”
“Weird,” you say, with a little laugh.  “Yeah.  I know.” 
He smiles softly.  He wore his glasses here but he has since put in contacts.  His hair is neatly styled and he changed into slightly nicer clothes, still human world, but very handsome in his black pants and black shirt.  He is so handsome that for a moment you forget about all your worries, taking a step towards him with your hand extended.  He catches that hand, bringing it to his shoulder.  He sweeps you into a kiss that banishes all your bad thoughts, the familiar taste and feel of him engulfing you.   You sink your fingers in his hair, parting your lips under the press of his mouth. 
It's him who ends the kiss, breathlessly, stuttering, “S-sorry, wait.  I came here to tell – to tell you – the consummation – that pink guy—”
“I know,” you say with a cringe.  You bury your face in his neck.  “Ugh, a bunch of faeries are gonna watch me have sex.” 
“Faeries and me!” he says with a nervous laugh. 
“Huh!”
“I tried to stop it, but no one would really listen to me,” he says.  “Someone only listened when I said it was weird for a guy to watch his little brother have sex, and some people agreed, so Prince Chan said I should take his place, since there were no faeries of equal rank to him and at least I was human.”  He slaps a hand to his forehead.  “Sorry.  I tried.” 
“Oh, Jisung,” you say, giggling a little helplessly at your morose boyfriend.  “How do you get yourself into these situations?” 
“You’re wearing a wedding dress!” he replies. 
“That’s only because I know you!” 
“Your life would have been very boring without me,” Jisung says, smiling. 
“I know,” you say.  “It would have been awful.” 
Because for as strange as all this faerie nonsense is, you cannot imagine a world where you never knew Jisung, where you never knew Felix, where you never had this love in your life, as messy and jealous and complicated as it has been at times. 
You tip your head, gazing into Jisung’s eyes.  He shivers when you twirl a bit of his hair around your finger. 
“Jisungie,” you say, thinking of your own jealousy, of Felix’s confounding glances.  “Do you ever feel jealous at all?”
“Of what?” he asks, totally innocent.
“I don’t know,” you say.  You are not sure how to explain it without seeming ridiculous, which puts it into some perspective.  “I mean, me and Felix are about to… you know.”
“Uh, yeah.  That’s okay.  I don’t want to have sex in front of the cannibal faerie,” Jisung says, making you laugh.  “Not a joke!” 
“I know, I know.”  You kiss his cheek. 
“I couldn’t be jealous of you two,” he says, looking contemplative, as if this has never really occurred to him before.  Then he looks at you a bit sheepishly, his gaze skittish in how it darts around. 
“What?” you ask, recognizing his shy mischief. 
“I think it’s… uh… kinda hot?”  He rubs the back of his neck.  “I love you and I guess I also love that stupid faerie boy.  And… maybe… I kinda wanna see…”
You feel very hot again. 
“You, um, want to watch Felix fuck me?” you ask, frankly as you can. 
“Yes.”  He stares straight up, his ears gone completely red and his cheeks turning pink.  “I think you’ll look hot together.  I was kinda hoping we’d do something like this one day.  I mean, the cannibal faerie is a surprise, but other than that…”
You kiss him.  His arms circle your waist and he tugs you close, the kiss deepening naturally.  You let all your flustered embarrassment fizzle away, thinking about Felix, thinking about Jisung.  You get a bit handsy, squeezing Jisung’s biceps then resting your hands on his chest.  He makes a little sound into the kiss, one of his needy whimpers.  It never fails to light you up. 
“I’m nervous,” you say, speaking low, against his lips.  “Thinking about so many of them watching me and Felix…”
It is clear by his gulp and frantic nod that Jisung finds the scenario sexier than he should.   “Yeah, baby,” he says.  “What can I do?” 
You know the faeries will be occupied with Hyunjin’s myriad of rituals for a while, so you peck his lips and ask, “Get me ready?”
“Ready,” he repeats.  His gaze jumps up to the flowers in your hair.  “You are ready.” 
“Not like that,” you say.  
Jisung really does his best to be appropriate, but he gets pussy-drunk faster than any man you have ever known.  A suggestion is all it takes.  You tap his shoulder and he obediently drops to his knees. 
“Baby,” he says in a reverent whisper, sighing, eyes closing when you run your fingers through his hair. 
Heavy-lidded and so seemingly submissive to your desire, Jisung looks up at you.  Then he reaches past you, grabs the chair by the leg, and yanks.  He is not too gentle, spilling you onto it with a forceful nudge. 
You know Jisung does nothing by halves.  He is singular in his passions.   You ask him to kneel, so he kneels, so he closes his eyes, so he opens his mouth.  He pushes your dress out of his way and licks through your panties until the fabric is sticky and you are so so wet that it clings to you.  Your thighs tremble and he whimpers softly, high and light in the back of his throat. 
“Jisungie…”
“Shh, shh, shh,” he says in a raspy voice, drawing the fabric aside.  “It’s okay.  Don’t cry.  I’ve got you, baby.” 
He speaks so sweetly, like he is incapable of being mean, even while he torments you with long, twisting strokes of his tongue, never committing to a single pattern.  It is a storm of sensation, rolling through you over and over again.  You are so sensitive that slightest nudge feels like a miniature orgasm all on its own.  You gasp and whine, trying and failing to close your legs around his head. 
“Jisuuung,” you say, your voice rough. “We don’t have much time, I need to come…”
He moans when he buries his tongue in you, when he licks messily up past your clit and back down again.  You grab his hair and tug, though it does nothing to deter him. 
“Your husband can make you come later,” he says, giggling an inch from your pussy.  “I’m just warming you up…”  
“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”
“Hmm?” is his reply, then he sighs and dives back. 
Your eyes close, brow furrowing in concentration.  You rock your hips against his mouth as he finally starts circling your clit with a single-minded resolve.  You feel flushed and shaky, pleasure and heat coursing through you, and you know you must look as ravaged as you feel.   
You open your eyes and see Felix standing in the entryway.  He looks astonishingly beautiful, his long blonde hair neatly styled back, his freckles pronounced and eyes so dark.  Long earrings made of sparkling orange gems dangle from his ears, looking at once like rippling flames and water running over bronze.  He is dressed in an approximation of a tuxedo, except the pants are leather and the shirt and blazer are cropped too short. 
He tips his head, his eyes on Jisung for a moment.  Then he holds your gaze unflinchingly, maybe daringly.  His smile appears slowly.  It is too gentle to be lecherous, tender despite the fact his gloved hand runs over his belt and tugs.  His tongue touches his bottom lip and he tips his head the other way. 
His presence startles you for a moment.  You should feel caught, or embarrassed, or something.  But the initial surprise fades and you just stare back at him.  You dig your fingers into Jisung’s hair and breathe harder as he strokes and strokes and strokes you with his tongue. 
Felix exhales.  His smile is still soft.  He lifts a darkly gloved hand and gestures to you, curling two fingers, a suggestive come here. 
Then Jisung’s hand goes from your thigh to your pussy, two fingers curling inside you without any resistance.  Felix’s smile curves into a pleased, satisfied smirk.  He nods. 
You come, holding Jisung’s face against your pussy, letting him moan and whimper with his own pleasure as you roughly fuck his mouth.  When he lifts his head, his mouth is so obscenely wet that you throb with a renewed ache of desire. 
“I think you’re ready now,” Jisung says.  He lowers your legs and slowly slides his fingers out of you.  Your breath catches, swallowing up a sound of a surprise when he uses both thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze – his and Felix.  Your head feels fuzzy and not with faerie magic. 
“I think so,” Felix says. 
Jisung does not seem surprised by his voice. He lets you go, your dress falling back over your lap.  He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks over his shoulder at Felix.  Felix approaches, his steps silent despite his big black boots.
You watch.  Jisung’s bottom lip twitches.  He looks up at Felix with the same hazy intoxication he looked at you.  Felix bites the tip of a glove, pulling the fabric off with his teeth, then he swipes his thumb across Jisung’s glistening mouth.  Felix brings that thumb to his own bottom lip, his tongue only just swiping the tip of it. 
Then Hyunjin struts into the alcove and slaps a shocked hand over his mouth. 
“What are you doing?” he demands.  You think he is going to remark on the man kneeling at your feet, not to mention your sexually dishevelled appearance, but then he says, “Felix.  You’re supposed to have a hat.” 
“I don’t need a hat, Hyunjin,” Felix says with a sigh.  “I would like to talk to my bride for a minute.” 
“That is impossible,” Hyunjin says.  “You need a hat.  Come with me.”
It occurs to you that you are watching the two most emotional faeries in their courts, even if those emotions are aimed in strange directions, like hats.  Because Hyunjin is very adamant and Felix is very annoyed.  You are more than a little concerned that if things come to a head, it will turn horrifying without much effort.
Then Jisung leaps to his feet and puts himself between the two faerie princes.  It surprises everyone to silence.  Even Hyunjin stumbles to a stop.  He cocks his head like a predator regards a measly scrap of prey, eyes flashing as he takes a menacing step forward.  
Felix has no time to react.  You have no chance to scream. 
Jisung is a step ahead of everyone.
He bows.  Hyunjin stumbles to a stop for a second time.  It takes him a second to realize what has happened but when he does his eye twitches.  He bows back, then straightens with a huff.
Jisung bows again.  You slap a hand over your mouth to hide your surprised laugh.  Hyunjin looks far less amused.  Glaring, he bows too, as per the rules of politeness. 
Jisung leaps to the side and bows again, forcing Hyunjin to follow him.  He does this twice more, leading Hyunjin to the exit, bowing back and forth the whole time. 
“Make him stop!”  Hyunjin shrieks.
“Okay, okay!” Jisung says, hands raised in surrender.   He bows one more time, swooping low, then he turns and runs as fast as he can.
Hyunjin, obliged to return the bow, goes chasing after him with a frantic yelp. 
“Is he gonna be okay?” you ask, springing to your feet.  You dress falls neatly down. 
“Yes,” Felix says.  “Hyunjin won’t hurt humans.  He likes them too much.”  He turns to you then, his expression returned to a more passive neutrality, though you do not miss the way he looks you over.  “Will you be okay?” he asks.  “I’m sorry.  I thought we would have more time when we got here.  I didn’t know they would do this.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, too shy for a conversation after he very much watched you orgasm.  “Um.  Might as well, I guess… get it out of the way.” 
“Yes.”  He frowns at this, turning aside.  “You want to… get it out of the way.  I understand.  I’m sorry it had to be this way.  You don’t want to marry me.” 
He says it so plainly and without any hesitation.  He must believe it is the absolute truth.  For a moment, you can only stare at him, his handsome profile, the tendrils of sadness that tug at his features.  How did you never see it before?
“Felix,” you say gently.  He does not look at you.  You touch his arm and he looks at your hand.  “Felix, I am happy to marry you.  I love you.”  He looks up at that, his brow furrowed.  “And Jisung,” you add.  “I’m… I’m glad it happened this way.  So that you and I—”   He turns to you and your heart skips a few beats, affected by the warmth of his steady gaze.  “So that you and I could come together as well.  And now the three of us—” 
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, then looks aside.  “I’m sorry.  That was forward, yeah?  I just… don’t want the first time to be out there.  Is that strange?  To be honest, sometimes I don’t know what’s strange or what isn’t.  The rules are different everywhere, you know?  I don’t think I’m doing a good job of this.  I’m sorry.  We don’t have to—”
You cup his face and kiss him.  It is very stiff for a moment, because you are both surprised by your brazen action.  He somehow grounds himself first, a careful hand curling around your hip to guide you a little closer.  A breath passes between you then he kisses you back. 
You touch his chest, making a sweet small sound into the kiss when his lips slide so softly against yours.  You are about to deepen it when Jisung interrupts with, “Aww, you’re kissing!  So cute!” 
You and Felix look over at him.  His hands are clasped and he is gushing as only Jisung can. 
“I thought you were running,” Felix says, with a hint of amusement. 
“Stupid labyrinth led me back here,” Jisung says.  He mimes zipping his lips shut and gestures to you.  “Keep kissing.  Pretend I’m not here.” 
“I wouldn’t want to pretend that,” Felix says, so sincerely that Jisung’s eyes widen.  They look at each other for a long moment, then Felix looks at you.  He cups your face. 
Then Hyunjin comes running in.  He swings his arms in a dramatic flail and flower petals fly everywhere.  The leaf dog comes running in and starts nipping at the air, trying to catch the petals.  In the midst of this chaos, Hyunjin storms up to Jisung and promptly bows.  Then he shoves him to the side and grabs Felix by the arm.
“Hat!” he shouts.  “Now!” 
-
It is a twenty-six hour wedding ceremony.  You and Jisung fall asleep halfway through festivity number twelve, curled up under a furry blanket near a fire pit.  You wake when Felix lifts your head into his lap.  Jisung is already curled up with his head on your belly, so you smile and snuggle into Felix.  He cups your face and strokes your cheek, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his face, making his smile seem bigger than usual. 
The consummation ritual is last.  It takes place inside the castle, in a beautiful room that appears to have been designed for this express purpose.  The mossy stone walls are decorated with dried flowers, the plush bed laden with thick red throws and burgundy cushions.   Despite the tall open windows, there is no autumn chill, a lit fireplace cozying the room with its warmth.
It would be a lovely chamber if not for the translucent curtain with a literal audience behind it.  The winter and summer princes sit ramrod straight, so uninterested in their surroundings that it actually puts you at ease.  Hyunjin looks… a little too eager to be honest, but you aren’t convinced he understands this ritual anymore than anything else today. 
Jisung is side-eying Jeongin, who is sitting beside him because Hyunjin refused to sit by ‘the annoying changeling brat’.  Minho is sitting between Jeongin and Hyunjin, casting the occasional side-eye to the spring prince.  Despite his stoic countenance, his displeasure with the company is clear. 
Honestly, the whole tableau is quite comedic.  You find yourself trying to stifle laughter when Felix finally arrives.  You were sent to separate rooms to undress and change into robes, but you arrived here first.   Felix looks at you curiously, clearly perplexed by your laughter. 
“You’re not nervous anymore,” he observes. 
“No,” you say.  “I’ve just been thinking like a faerie.” 
He tilts his head at that.  You smile and kiss him, a chaste kiss that makes his lashes flutter.  The little reaction tickles a flurry of butterflies in your belly.  You hold his hand and lead him to the bed where you sit down.  His eyes shift with a nervous scuttle, but he follows the direction of your hand when you gesture to him. 
You keep your eyes on his, intensely locked as you lift his hand and take two fingers in your mouth.  When you close your lips around his fingers and gently suck, his breath catches.  It echoes in Jisung. 
Then Jeongin whispers loudly, “Is she going to eat him?”  He sounds moderately intrigued. 
“Be quiet,” Hyunjin replies. 
“I think it’s over,” Minho says, catching onto your ruse before anyone else.  
You smile and open your eyes.  You separate from Felix and turn your head to the silhouettes beyond the curtain. 
“A penetrative performance,” you state.   “I believe that was the requirement.  And I believe that should qualify.” 
You are stretching the meaning of those words and you know it, but that’s what faeries do.  His fingers ‘penetrated’ the breach of your mouth, so it should count on the most technical level. 
“All done,” you say with a smile and wave. 
“So you’re not eating him?”  Jeongin says, frowning. 
Minho is the first one to stand.  He flicks Jeongin’s forehead as he passes, but otherwise says nothing before fleeing the room.  Jeongin follows with a slightly disgruntled shuffle, then Hyunjin stomps his foot. 
“Humans,” he says, marching past Jisung. 
The door closes behind Hyunjin.  Jisung claps a hand over his mouth and laughs into it, so hard he has to put a hand over his stomach as he doubles over.   Felix laughs too, a pleasantly low rumble that he tries to stifle with a cough.  You smile up at him, leaning back on your palms and admiring him in the warm orange light.  He tucks some hair behind his ear, regarding you with a very tender gaze when he nods his head in a curt little bow. 
“All done,” he says.  It makes your brow furrow: the little shift in tone, the tension that still draws his shoulders back.  You realize that even after everything, he is still uncertain about his place.  Even Jisung knows where he belongs, not for a moment thinking he should leave the room, but Felix takes a step away from the bed like he intends to do just that.
You grab his hand, drawing his attention back to you.  Blonde hair falls around his face, shadowing it.  He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, gaze somewhere on your chin. 
“Felix,” you say.  His fingers tighten around yours and it feels like a question.  You answer by tugging that hand, drawing him closer.  His eyes flash gold when you drop his hand to open your robe.  This time you can hear Jisung’s sharp breath too, all laughter subsiding as you let the robe fall off your shoulders, laying yourself bare before Felix. 
He looks awed but stricken.  You can see when he swallows.  He looks at Jisung then back at you, his brow furrowing.  His lips twitch in a bid to speak but no words come.   
It would be funny, this supernatural being somehow struck dumb by you in your most vulnerable state, but your smile is more affectionate than amused.
“Felix,” you say again.  “Have you ever done something like this before?” 
He shakes his head frantically, his eyes still running up and down your body. 
“No,” he says.  “Uh, no.  No.  I can – feel something when Jisung – when you – I mean—”  He chokes on an awkward laugh, turning away for a second. 
“I fucking knew it!”  Jisung says, poking his head between the folds of the curtain.  “Bro, you’re such a liar.  I asked if you could feel when we fuck and you said no!”
“I can’t lie,” Felix replies, turning to Jisung.  He forgets to be embarrassed while arguing, very plainly and patiently stating his case.  “I told you most faeries don’t think about sex like humans and that I couldn’t be certain what you were doing, yeah?  And I can’t.  And I would have told you more but you only asked the first time and I didn’t know you were going to keep… being with her.  And I – I didn’t want to make things awkward… for you… okay?  By thinking of me every time… so I just… What are you smiling at?”  His deep voice breaks, pitching comically higher for a second. 
Jisung is smirking and nodding, just a floating head with a vague silhouetted body behind the curtain. 
“Man,” Jisung says, “you’ve been acting like a monk but secretly jacking it while we get freaky in the other room… That’s naughty.”
Felix draws his mouth into a flat line then looks at you for help.  You are trying to hold in your giggles, lips pressed tight together.  When he looks at you, you exhale, waving at Jisung to back down for a second.  He ducks behind the curtain again, giggling to himself like the menace he is. 
Fortunately, Felix is easy to distract.  All it takes is opening your legs for his all his attention to zero in there.  He swallows again. 
“Sounds like we’ve been teasing you too long,” you say, your voice drawing his eyes back up to your face.  You smile and beckon him forward.  “Come on.  Let me make it up to you.” 
He looks like he is going to deflect politely, either because he is a faerie or because he is Felix, but then you grab his robe and yank him closer.  He stumbles up to you, his fingers fluttering at his sides and his shoulders still tense.  You take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, soothing him with another gentle smile as you unknot his robe.
He is already very hard and this seems to fluster him, but he points to the curtain and sputters, “He’s – touching—“ 
“Fuck yeah I am,” Jisung says. 
“Jisung, shh,” you say, trying not to giggle again.  “And slow down.  You’re always so impatient.” 
“Am not,” Jisung says, but you can see him lean back, folding his hands behind his head. 
You look up at Felix, holding his gaze the way you did when you sucked his fingers.  You like the way he twitches and breathes harder, the way his eyes flash, the way his jaw clenches.  His thumb curls under your jaw when your mouth slides over him.  You can’t help but moan when his whole face contorts with more natural emotion than you have ever seen from him.  His breath stutters and stops and starts, his sounds so low and guttural that you feel them inside you. 
“Oh, fuck, dude,” Jisung says, rasping.  You pull back just a little, drooling and stroking with your hand, and glancing at Jisung out of the corner of your eye.  He lifts his hips and squeezes himself over his pants.  “We were fucking torturing you, holy fuck.”   
“Mmmmrrgh,” is the approximate sound Felix makes.  His eyes are partially-lidded, his expression one of immense concentration.  He pulls your face back to him with a flick of his wrist.  Appetent and quite demanding, he leads your mouth back onto him and holds you in place to shallowly and gently fuck your mouth.  He makes a pleased sound, one of deep relief, his head lolling back and the tension leaving his shoulders.   
You let him set the pace, matching the animal instinct that overcomes him.  He stops himself when he’s close, breathing hard and stepping back.  You want to ask if he is okay, but you have to flex your jaw and your voice is momentarily shot.  Before you can find that voice, he turns to the curtain and says, “Show me what you did earlier.  I want – I want to do that too.” 
There is a quiet moment, Jisung maybe surprised at the sudden attention, but then the curtain parts and Jisung steps all the way through.  He has unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, his partially unzipped pants doing nothing to hide the bulge behind his fly.  The sight of him sets off more sparks, especially when he winks at you with all his cheeky wantonness.
Felix gives Jisung a once-over too, pushing a hand through his hair and steadying his breathing.  His features look sharper than ever, darkened with a determined resolve.  He says nothing when Jisung sweeps behind him.  Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at you while he gathers Felix’s robe and slides it off his shoulders. 
“She likes your freckles,” Jisung offers by way of explanation, smooching Felix’s freckled shoulder with a playful little mwah. 
Felix tilts his head and looks at you.  “Really?” he asks.  “I can’t fully scrub them off the glamour. I think it’s somehow your fault.”  This is aimed at Jisung.
“Everything’s my fault!” Jisung says with a great deal of pride. 
“Why would you want to get rid of them?” you blurt, showing just as much as horror as you did when meeting the cannibal faerie.   Felix without his freckles is equally abhorrent.
Felix looks at you, thoughtfully.  Firelight is flickering over the room but you do not think it is a trick of shadow when his freckles seem to darken everywhere. 
“Aw,” Jisung says.  “He’s flirting.” 
Felix looks at him with a certain degree of exasperation.  “Show me what I asked,” he says. 
“Oh, wow, okay, geez, pushy,” Jisung says, circling so he standing beside Felix.  Felix drops the rest of the robe, evidently not the slightest bit shy to be standing there naked.  Now your gaze is the roving one, jumping between them, darting upward when Jisung cups Felix’s face and turns it to him. 
“You need to turn her on first, man,” Jisung says, swaying to the playful rhythm of his own voice.  Felix follows, but his eyes narrow into judgemental slits.  Jisung seems unbothered by this, standing still, tucking some hair behind Felix’s ear.  “C’mooon,” he says, with an impatient little shoulder wiggle and a laugh.  “She likes you… she likes me… as they say… badda bing badda boom…”
“I don’t think they say that during sex,” Felix says, frowning. 
“He’s right,” you say, giggling. 
Jisung sighs and looks at you.  “No audience participation,” he says, miming a zip across his lips.  “Just sit there and look pretty, baby.  We’ll get to you.” 
Felix looks at you.  Jisung leans close to whisper in his ear.  You try to decipher what he is saying based on Felix, but all Felix does is furrow his eyebrows then look sideways at Jisung.  There is a moment of quiet, then they smile at the same time.
Felix delicately cups Jisung’s chin.
The last time you caught them kissing, it spurred only jealousy.  But that was different.  That was your childish reaction to exclusion, your own anxieties speaking over everything else.  This time, you are not outside of their connection.  You even swear you can feel the faintest tingling on your own lips when they gently come together in a feather-light kiss.   
Their hands trace similar paths, Felix’s slipping into Jisung’s pants and Jisung touching him back.  The kiss deepens until their tongues touch, then Jisung giggles while Felix grins.  They look at you at the same time.
“Go,” Jisung says, nudging Felix forward. 
They let go of each other and Felix climbs up on the bed, guiding you backwards until your head is on a pillow.  Long tendrils of blonde hair brush your cheeks. He lays over you and kisses you, pressing your head into the cushion.  Even lost in his kiss, you can sense Jisung with a fuzzy awareness.  You recognize the familiar touch of his palm, his hand gliding up your inner thigh.  Felix makes room, joining Jisung at your thighs.  You twitch with an instinctive little jerk, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at them.  Jisung puts a finger over his lips and shushes you, smiling. 
“We got it, we got it…” he says.  He cups the back of Felix’s head and pushes his head down to your pussy. 
Felix glances up at you, then him, then down.  His eyes close and he sticks out his tongue, his expression one of the sweetest pleasure when he puts his mouth on you.   What he lacks in skill, he compensates with eagerness, messily diving in with an open mouth, licking and kissing and making a mess of himself.  Jisung threads his fingers into his hair and tugs, laughing a little. 
“Easy, easy,” he says.  He and Felix look at each other as Jisung lowers his own face.  When he puts his expert mouth on you, your head falls back, thighs parting further.  You throw your arms over your head and dig your fingers into the cushions.  You chase the rhythm of his tongue, looking down when it stops, when Felix replaces him. 
“See, look at her,” Jisung says.  Felix looks up at you.  “Just like that.” 
Then Jisung joins him.  They torturously alternate whose mouth is on you.  Jisung dives at Felix, licking across his wet lips and kissing him before returning to you.  You can hardly tell one mouth from the next, gasping under two tongues as they stroke you and each other, matching blonde heads bobbing in perfect coordination between your thighs.  It is inhumanly perfect, so harmonious that it almost agonizing.  This is how mortals lose their minds here, you think.
Eventually you are so wound up that you can’t help but cry out. 
“Oh noo,” Jisung says, very unrepentant as lays beside you.  “I think we were teasing her… That’s so mean of us, isn’t it, baby?  Huh?”  He pinches your face in his hand, cooing at you while you playfully glare.  He giggles and kisses you, your own wet desire smeared across his lips.  “You’re so wet, baby,” he says, sliding his hand down your body and over your pussy, easing his fingers through the wetness there.  When you whimper, he whimpers back in faux sympathy, pouting and nodding.  “I know, poor baby,” he says, curling his fingers inside you.
Felix’s eyes light up, watching.  He props himself up on one hand and touches you with the other.  You make a sound against Jisung’s mouth, a breathy moan as Felix slides his fingers in too.  It’s thick, that many fingers at once and so suddenly.  Your thighs jerk and you whine into Jisung’s mouth.  You see stars when you close your eyes, their fingers moving at the same time inside you.  They share a heartbeat, a rhythm, not faulting in the slightest.
For a moment, you just lay there and dizzily take it, stretched around their fingers, wet and silky hot and so turned on that you feel like you’re floating. 
“Jisung,” Felix says in his rough, deep voice.
“I know,” Jisung replies, just as hoarse.    
Their fingers leave you and Jisung grabs your throat with that same hand, slick fingers nudging your chin to look at him.  Your breath catches and you think Felix’s breath catches too. 
“That’s my girl,” Jisung says, reaching down at the same Felix reaches up, a hand on each breast, teasing the pebbled peaks.  You squirm and Jisung returns his hand to your throat, smiling at you so innocently, scrunching up his eyes with delight.  “Good girl,” he says, squeezing.  Felix gasps then moans, sucking kisses wherever his mouth lazily roams.  Jisung places those same hot kisses on your neck, each kiss landing one after the other, lighting every nerve.  Teeth and tongue lave at your skin, no doubt bruising it with each little love bite. 
“That’s it,” Jisung says, and you really start to think your human boyfriend is made of more magic than autumnal flurries.  His dark eyes sparkle in the light, his mischievous smirk lighting up his handsome face.  He is so giggly and sweet despite the dastardly torture of his hands and mouth. 
You find yourself sinking into the sensations, eyes closed, body running on instinct. 
“Felix,” Jisung says.  His hand leaves your throat, sliding down your body.  You realize he is spreading your pussy lips again, teasing as Felix pushes inside you.  It is easy now that you have taken so many fingers, but the knowledge of what is happening, of who is fucking you, makes your breath stutter and eyes open. 
“Ohh,” is the only sound you can make, watery eyes on where Felix is moving slowly in and out of you.  His brow is furrowed again, that look of concentration, then he groans and all but sprawls on top of you, fucking you with messy abandon.   Jisung thumps his head heavily onto the cushion, panting heavily, as if he was fucking you. 
“Felix, you gotta—”  Jisung says, his own face twisted up with a tortured sort of pleasure.   Felix does not listen to him, still rocking his hips with a frantic unevenness.  It feels good and crazy and wild, your head lolling to the side, a hum in your throat. 
Jisung finds the resolve to push himself up, groaning with the effort.  You watch him roughly manhandle Felix, yanking his head up to get him to concentrate.  Felix’s eyes flash gold then go dark.  His mouth is hanging open and his cheeks are flushed.  He never stops moving. 
“And you said I was impatient,” Jisung murmurs, grabbing Felix’s hips and evening out his rhythm.  You suppose it stands to reason that if Jisung is the most pussy-drunk man you have ever known, than Felix would be too.  Except Felix actually is magic, and everything about Jisung seems to multiply in Felix.  He looks completely overcome.  Then Jisung suddenly asks, “Good tears or bad?”
“Good,” Felix rasps. 
“So you wanna keep going?”
“Ye-es,” Felix hiccups, then suddenly starts crying, all the messy human-ness mixing with his confusing faerie-ness, coming together in an explosive physical and emotional mania that has him burying his face in your neck and fucking you so deep and hard that your own sniffles start. 
“Yes,” you say at the same time as him, wrapping your arms around his neck.  Jisung touches your hand, his other still guiding Felix’s hips.  Felix moans in your throat then marginally turns his head. 
“Jisung,” he says.  “I can’t—unless you—”      
Jisung very unceremoniously shoves a hand down his pants, then looks up at you and smiles. 
“Okay,” Jisung says.  He moves and Felix sinks back inside you, moaning deeply, clutching you possessively.  You hold him back as fiercely, blinking up at Jisung when kneels near your face.  “Come on, baby,” Jisung says, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. 
“Yes,” Felix says, nodding at him and at you. 
You open your mouth, nodding at Jisung.  His pants get tossed somewhere and he removes his shirt at the same time his dick pushes past your lips.  They really do fuck with an extraordinary identicalness, perfectly matched without a word.  It is easy to fall into their rhythm, not even straining.  You feel like you were born to be here, between them, sharing them, sharing yourself with them. 
They come at the same time, Felix with his cheek pressed to yours, Jisung with his head thrown back.  They lay down on either side of you, flopping back at the same time. Felix has a completely dazed look on his face, his breath stuttering when you tuck some of his sweaty hair back.  He looks at you like he is seeing you for the first time all over again. 
All three of you exhale at once.  The resulting giggle comes in three-way unison too. 
“Wow,” Felix finally says.  “It’s much more fun like this.”
“Hell yeah,” Jisung says, holding out his fist for a bump.  You swat it down before Felix can return it.  Jisung just laughs, snuggling up to you. 
Felix also rolls onto his side. He tucks one hand under his head and touches your face with the other.  You and Jisung both look at him, his faraway stare, the way a small smile unfurls on his face.
“You’re mine now,” he says.  “Forever.  Yeah?”  It’s posed like a question but evidently it is already fact to him, or he could not say it. 
“Forever and ever,” Jisung says easily, stretching out on the royal bedsheets like he has always belonged there. 
Felix looks at you for an answer too, still smiling.  You are not as easy as Jisung, but you try hard not to overthink. 
But you remember so many stories of humans wandering in the faerie world, never seen or heard from again, the tales of their disappearances ranging from beautiful to horrifying.  You think it would be impudent to think yourself different or better than them.  They thought they were safe too. 
The question tumbles past your lips before you can think twice: 
“Your true name,” you say.  “Would you still give it to me if I asked?” 
He clearly does not expect the question.  He blinks quickly, then his gaze darts to the side.  You look there to see Jisung nodding off, already half-asleep on your shoulder.  Felix is not sleeping.  You look at him, wondering still about the sometimes contradictory depth of their connection. 
“Aren’t you tired too?” you ask. 
“A little,” he says. 
You realize he didn’t answer your other question and you open your mouth to ask again.  He kisses you, cupping your face, making a happy sound when you kiss him back.  Jisung makes his own little happy sound, sighing on your shoulder. 
“I love you,” Felix says, speaking soft and low against your lips.  He strokes the side of your face.  “I want you to stay with me forever.” 
“You’d really tell me your true name?” you ask. 
“I’d do anything for you,” he says.  “I love you.” 
“I love you too, Felix,” you say, about to say more when he kisses you again.  He smiles so big and bright, it crinkles the corner of his eyes.  
“You do,” he says.  “That’s the truth.  You love me like you love him.” 
“It’s the same but different,” you say.   “Like how you love both me and Jisung.”
He is still smiling.  He kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly.  “The same but different,” he says.  “Yes.  I understand.” 
He draws you into his arms and kisses the crown of your head, sighing a happy sigh.  Jisung curls up behind you, already fast asleep while Felix murmurs sweet love confessions at you until you fall asleep too, nestled tightly and safely in his arms.
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littlefireball · 2 months
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OK hear me out please but Vampire Yeosang x Human virgin reader? Where yeosamg is actually very sweet and she was surrendered to him as a slave but he doesn't treat her as such but more as a lover and ends up taking her virginity??
oh that's a good idea~thx for your request 😃but sorry im not good at writing something sweet XD Here you go~
ʏꜱ|ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ (ᴍ)
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ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴅʀɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴍᴀʀᴋᴇᴛ|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴄᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀꜱᴇʟꜰ|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2ᴋ
Masterlist
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What if vampires want to drink human blood? They could opt to risk being exposed and hunt humans, or, for a more secure approach, purchase slaves from the underground market, although the standard may be spotty. Alternatively, there might be vampires who have forsaken human blood altogether, but Yeosang couldn't. Human blood remained the most palatable, surpassing that of any other creature.
Today marked the fifth time this week that he had come to the underground market. He was still searching for his 'food'. His yearning for control was nonexistent; all he craved was the exquisite taste of blood, nothing more. Thus, when a disgusting man attempted to sell him slaves while referring to them as cute pets, he scoffed.
"Please forgive me, my lord." You knelt on the ground, begging for forgiveness. This is something that happens almost every day, only this time it's not in the private room. "You fucking bitch! Can't even handle such small things?" With a fierce motion, he hurled the glass from his grasp towards your back. The shards erupted into a cascade, leaving your back abruptly stained with crimson. The man's thunderous rebuke and your sweet scent seized Yeosang's focus, revealing you in tears, quivering with emotion.
You did nothing wrong, only rejected to provide a special service to the client. But you were beaten and punished severely for this very reason.
"Useless bitch!Send her to jail!" It was a fate far worse than death, yet you chose to endure it. Opting for a torturous demise would have been a better decision, sparing you from the company of those repulsive men, literally.
As you were on the brink of being whisked away, a figure seized your wrist with an unexpected grip. His skin radiated an unusual chill, starkly contrasting with that of ordinary individuals. Locking eyes with his piercing crimson gaze sent a shiver coursing through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense of foreboding.
You knew he was a vampire.
"Release her." Yeosang said, his voice tingled with a hint of impatience. He found himself puzzled by his own curiosity, but never mind, it wasn't a big deal anyway. "Who are you?Huh?A popinjay?" The man chortled heartily, devoid of any sense of admiration as he gazed upon Yeosang's opulent ensemble. "A man you will regret for angering him forever." The man trembled at the mere sight of Yeosang, no words necessary, as his presence alone exuded power and authority.
"Release her and don't make me twice." Yeosang warned him with a deep voice, making the man swallow hard and not dare to look at him. "Re…release her…"The bindings that held your wrists captive were finally undone, and he delicately lowered your hands, as though he feared causing you any discomfort. "Wrap yourself in this," he instructed, draping the cloak over your shoulders and giving you a reassuring pat. In that moment, he appeared to embody two distinct personas.
"I…I give her to you. How you deal with it is your business." The man turned away without looking back. Although he didn't receive the money, he didn't want any more trouble.
"He leaves and you are free now." Yeosang whispered softly, stirring your heartstring. "Take care of yourself. I gotta go."
Just as he was preparing to depart, you took hold of his icy hand and implored him, "Might I become your slave? I promise to be obedient and fulfill your every desire." Even as a creature of the night, his gentleness was a rarity among humans. You were uncertain if servitude to him was truly a blessing, but it certainly seemed preferable to a lifetime of confinement in this place.
"And would you want my blood…?" You hesitated, bowing your head, uncertain if your inquiry was too forward. "Are you aware of what you speak?" Yeosang crouched down to lift your chin, locking eyes with you. "I…I understand. You are a…vam…vampire," He appeared mildly taken aback, yet swiftly composed himself. "But don't you want to go anywhere?" You shook your head. "There is nowhere. I humbly request to remain by your side."
"Then just follow me if you're not scared." —---- You delicately sliced your wrist with the blade, allowing the crimson liquid to cascade into the crystal goblet. This exquisite feast was meticulously crafted for Yeosang each evening. He never bites you, for fear of causing you harm, and for fear of revealing his identity through visible traces.
"I'm back, Y/N." His voice resonated from a short distance, prompting you to dash towards the door. "Welcome home~" You enveloped him in a warm embrace, a delightful surprise at how eagerly you anticipated his arrival. "How was your day?" You tilted your head to capture the warmth in his affectionate gaze. "Tired." He buried his head in your neck, nuzzling like a kitten. "But I feel better after seeing you." He beamed, tenderly stroking your hair with a loving touch. The alluring scent of your skin never fails to captivate him, prompting him to rub your neck.
"You are exaggerating~I've prepared your dinner." With a grin, you assisted him in removing his attire and ensuring his comfort before making your way to the kitchen to fetch a goblet of blood. "Thank you," he expressed his gratitude with a smile as he indulged in his beverage.
He never regarded you as a mere slave, perhaps one could even argue that he treated you as a companion, or perhaps something even deeper. However, you were hesitant to entertain any further thoughts. Your fondness for him was undeniable, yet his true feelings remained a mystery to you.
After all, you were a slave from the black market, and he was your master. There was a huge gap.
"Why do you look at my face? Is it something there?" His words pulled you back to reality. "Nothing. Just watching some beautiful things." A joyful smile graced his lips, yet he soon pretended to be cold. He would not tell you he loves your praise. But of course, you knew him well.
"Allow me to assist you in getting ready for a bath." As you gracefully rose from your seat, he gently halted your movement with the sound of your name escaping his lips. "Y/N?" "How may I be of service to you?" With a tender touch, he guided you to settle on his lap, causing your eyes to widen in astonishment.
"Just stay with me for a while." Leaning his head against your shoulder, he enveloped you in his arms. Although it was not the initial occurrence of such intimacy between you two, you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading across your cheeks.
You sensed a weariness that seemed to envelop him. While human blood possesses the power to rejuvenate a vampire's vigor, your own appearance is insufficient. Perhaps he craves something more exquisite, something tantalizingly rich—heart blood. This rare elixir, the most coveted of all, manifests only when a vampire has marked their mate.
"Ma…master?" "Hm?" He murmured, slowly opening his eyes to meet your gaze, even though he was on the brink of slumber. "You mentioned that heart blood can heal a vampire. Would you like to partake of it?" He hesitated, taken aback by your unexpected question. "Yes, but this is not something you can drink just by thinking about it."
"How could I get it?" A smirk played on his lips as he heard your words. "You can't get it because you are not a vampire," "But you could get it…from me."His eyes widened, all drowsiness vanishing in an instant. "It's not kidding, Y/N. Marking hurts and you may not handle it. I don't want to harm─" You wrapped around his shoulder, silencing his words with a kiss.
This move used up all your courage.
"You saved me, and now my life belongs to you." "Won't you regret it?There is no turning back." You shook your head, gently cradling his face. "Never." Upon hearing your declaration, he pounced you onto the sofa. "Tell me if it hurts." He whispered against your lips before claiming you into a passionate kiss.
In truth, he recognized you as his soulmate from the moment your paths crossed. However, he restrained his primal instincts to mark you, for he wished to shield you from any potential harm. The painful recollections lingered in his thoughts, fueling his desire to avenge any who dared to hurt you.
"Mine." His kisses trailed down to your neck and his teeth sank into it, causing blood flow out from the wounds. You hissed at the pain and dug your nails into his nape. "Godness, you are so sweet, honey." You became a mess at his words as it was the first time he called you like this. Yeosang sneaked to your collarbone, dropping a trail of kisses while biting harshly to leave a mark.
His fingers settled under the bands of your panties after he sat up straight, tearing them into a fragment. You gasped at his sudden move, but before you could say anything, his fingers diving for your wet lower core. "Look at you, you're so beautiful." One finger being thrusted in slowly, making you bite your lips because you were not used to it. He pulled out and another finger followed, moving in and out at a slow pace.
"Gosh…" You rolled your hips and your toes curl together, feeling he go faster and deeper each time you let out a soft whimper. Throwing your head on the armrest, your face turned red as if oxygen was out of your lungs. Yeosang leaned down to sink his teeth into your skin again, the pain and the pleasure crushed you at the same time, pushing you into a total messiness.
"C'mon, honey. I know you want to cum, cum for me. Let me see what you've got." Your mouth fell into an 'O' form and a choppy moan left your lips. His fingers pushed upward to scratch your wet wall and hit your soft flesh from time to time, bringing you to the peak. "Ma…Master…!" Before you could form a complete sentence, you squirted all over his forearm and even his thighs.
"I…I apologize." You covered your face with embarrassment. "Don't say sorry, you're doing well." He removed your hand and pecked at your lips. "I just have to prepare you well. Ready for me? Angel." "Yes, yes, please." A smile played on his lips and he took off his pants, exposing himself fully.
Your lips bore the burden of his touch once more, pulled in by an irresistible warmth. His tender kisses, gentle bites, and soft sucking, along with his teasing tongue, led you to willingly follow his lead. Without hesitation, you parted your lips, granting him access to explore every inch.
His delicate touch grazed over your sensitive nerves, sending a shiver down your spine. He caressed your thighs, your derriere, before lifting them and encircling his powerful waist. In silence, he positioned himself at your entrance and entered with a powerful thrust.
A soft gasp escaped your lips, overwhelmed by his impressive size, a wave of satisfaction washing over you, leaving you momentarily breathless. Your head reclined against the sofa's edge and he began to move with a steady rhythm.
You raised your head and let out a soft sigh, your hands gently grasping the back of his head, giving him permission to carry on with his movements. The sensation of soft flesh being hitted made you blush, and your body quivered. Observing this, he playfully intensified his rhythm in that exact spot.
"Ma…master…hmm!" The sounds of pleasure echoed throughout the lavishly decorated bathroom, his passionate movements causing you to gasp in delight. "Oh…my dearest Y/N," Yeosang whispered against your chest, finding where the heart blood is. "Find it." Before you could react, he bit your chest with a great force and you screamed in pain. He pulled you up to settle you on his lap, pushing upward while drinking your blood.
In an unexpected surge, he plunged with fervor, striking precisely at the core of your being. "It hurts!!" "You can take this, Y/N." The exquisite agony enveloped your senses, clouding your awareness and ensnaring your very nerves, rendering you utterly defenseless.
Tears brimmed at the edges of your eyes, your brow knitted in distress, and a heart-wrenching cry escaped your lips, betraying your suffering. Your body quaked, slick with cold perspiration, as your limbs grew increasingly feeble. But he didn't stop, kept colliding with your deepest part without mercy by holding tight your waist.
"Be mine, Y/N." He let out a low, satisfied groan as he reached his peak deep inside you, sealing the bond. Gradually easing his pace, he withdrew from your body. As the bond solidified, Yeosang felt a surge of power, and miraculously, your complexion returned to its natural hue, blemishes vanishing, save for the scar on your chest - a testament to Yeosang's mark.
"Sorry, it hurts." You shook your head before resting on his chest. "I would do anything for you."
"Thank you, Y/N."
"I should be the one who said that. Thank you, master."
"Don't call me Master." Your gaze met again as he lifted your chin. "Call me Yeosang." He pressed his lips against yours with all his love and tenderness.
"I love you, Yeosang."
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s6lars · 9 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆ 📂 pedri crashes an interview…
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slightly suggestive, a little pedri x reporter!reader moment. inspired by this moment between iker casillas and his then gf after spain won the world cup. let's pretend barca wins the cl. enjoy!
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"Can we get one more player to interview?"
Your producer's voice rings through the earpiece, prompting you to push it deeper to hear better.
The thunderous roars from the humongous crowd bleeds through the tunnels of Wembley Stadium, still persisting hours after the full-time whistle blew the moment Barcelona became champions of Europe.
"Come again?" you reply.
"One more player. Get them in front of the mic."
Jules Koundé and Fermin Lopéz had stopped by for an interview earlier, but clearly that wasn't enough for your producer or the show. Standing on your tiptoes, you scan the busy yet lively atmosphere of the tunnels — crowded, upbeat, slightly cramped, and filled with a persistent tone of chatter from the tens of reporters present.
It doesn’t look like any new players would emerge from the dressing rooms, at least not for a while. You were just about to inform your producer about it when you see your boyfriend walking into the room, nudging his way through the crowd.
Pedri González in all his glory, sporting the signature blue and red kit, beads of sweat in his hair and the rosey blush splayed across his face. The calls of reporters grew as they tried to get his attention, but once his honey brown eyes met yours, it was only you who he was drawn to.
He makes the proud walk to your booth, the shiny Champions League medal dangling on his neck, gleaming under the lights. Pedri's smile grows with every step, happily ignoring the twenty or so other reporters calling his name.
"Hey baby," Pedri coos, hands naturally wrapping around your figure. Your body tenses for a moment at the PDA — it doesn't go unnoticed by him, swiftly releasing you from his embrace.
Although your relationship had been long public by now, this the first time your worlds have crossed professionally (ironic, given that you were a sports reporter, and Pedri was an athlete). There were several conversations about this and it usually ended the same way — as long as there was a camera pointed in your direction, there could be no signs that you were a couple.
"You're working right now?" Pedri asks. You nod in response.
"I need you for an interview. It won't be long, I promise." You signal at your cameraman to prepare the interview, turning back to Pedri.
"I wouldn't mind either way." There's that smile again, the smile that only draws one out of you as well. "Hey, I didn't see you during the celebrations earlier.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I had to get ready for this,” you recall, taking off as soon as the Blaugranas lifted the trophy. It pained your heart to not run up to Pedri and jump into his arms, instead, you ran the other way to touch up your makeup underground.
“But hey, we can take pictures later. When it’s less crowded. And a lot quieter.”
“I can think of several things we can do where it’s less crowded. Dunno about quiet, though,” Pedri teases, low enough so only you could hear.
No amount of Patrick Ta blush could replicate the growing heat painted on your cheeks. You shove him playfully, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh.
Pedri looks devilishly handsome tonight — he always does, but something about his boosted confidence from the win only amplified it. His tongue darts out to lave over his bottom lip, taking it between his teeth as he drinks in your figure.
Were the tunnels always this hot?
“Guys,” your cameraman calls, signaling for you to get ready. You shake off all the unholy thoughts in your mind reserved for the comfort of Pedri’s hotel room later that night, fix your hair, and bring the mic up to your chest.
One, two, three, your cameraman mouths, and you’re live on air to millions.
“Welcome back to Wembley! Most of the players are still celebrating by now, but I’m joined by Pedri here.” The camera pans, now fitting you both into the frame.
“Is there anything you’d like to say?” You hope the sound system doesn’t catch the unusual giddiness in your voice as you address him.
“What is there to say? What should I tell you that you already don’t know?” Pedri’s eyes don’t leave yours for a second, completely disregarding the lens, speaking like you’re the only person in the room.
“Well, tell us how you feel,” you respond through giggles, instinctively taking a step closer to him.
“You’ve caught me in a true moment of happiness, not just from me, but from the rest of the club. It’s been a season full of ups and downs and we truly feel like we’ve deserved for it to end this way,” Pedri explains.
“… and I just want to thank all the people that have supported me throughout all this. My parents, my brother…”
Pedri’s voice breaks as he reaches the end of his sentence, his finger reaching up to swipe any stray tears spilling onto his cheeks. You wanted nothing more than to drop the microphone and pull his head into the crook of your neck, but you stood your ground.
Watching the love of your life speak so highly of his loved ones, pouring his heart out with the world watching, it’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. And you feel like it’s happening all over again.
“It’s fine, we can just talk about other things for now…” You try to diffuse the situation, watching as Pedri regains composure in front of you.
“No,” he suddenly blurts, waving his finger.
“No?” you barely manage to squeak out before Pedri leans in — and he’s kissing you.
One arm around your shoulders and his free hand gripping your chin, Pedri moulds his lips against yours. All sense of professionalism had evaporated from your body, drunk on the way he tasted.
He pulls away before you could kiss back, landing one last sneaky peck on your forehead before making a run for it. “I’m leaving! See you later!” he says in between giggles.
You watch him disappear into the stairwell when the sound of applause fills your ears, and you only then realize what position you’re in — putting on a show for the crowd of reports.
“My my, Pedri. What a man he is.”
A voice rings through your earpiece. You also put on a show for the crowd of millions at home.
Your face is heated once more, your words tripping over themselves as you try to think of a closing statement. Part of you wants to scold Pedri and teach him a lesson for messing with you at work — the other wants him to kiss you senseless again, letting the world know you belong to each other.
“When Pedri comes back to Spain, tell him I want to give him a kiss as well!”
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