#i want them in a wolf shape with a blue moon somewhere

[blackbackedjackal]

Actually now that I'm thinking about it, Lily could have designed June’s cufflinks ahhhhh

[sugar-petals]

Club Daemon (m)

PAIRING. merman!baekhyun x vampire!reader

↳ PLOT. You join a club of half-demons all hailing from different supernatural species — and find an unexpected love.  

↳ WORDS. 27k

TAGS / WARNINGS ⚠️ eventual smut, jealousy, explicit bloodsucking sex (mutual oral, vaginal), fangs kink, pining, groping, femdom!reader, angst/action, neck fixation, rough sex, fantasy au

The room is filled with smoke, but not from any cigarettes. Somewhere around here, or so you’ve been told, must be the entrance to actual hell. 

A gloomy spiral staircase headed for the core of the earth, kind of rusty and gleaming in red, fog everywhere, you get the idea. But so far… that’s none of your business. And either way.

The architecture in the part of the mansion you were invited to elegantly pools into a massive door of brass and copper. An embossed piece, amazingly sculpted — a hundred years old or more.

The center depicts a translucent emblem that appears to be strangely double-headed. Two facial profiles. One gazing east, the other, west. What exactly that’s supposed to mean: You have no idea, but you get the gist. Some kind of Greek mythology visual going on there. 

Doesn’t look like hell, does it.

You approach the door with slowed steps, tug your blazer into a comfortable fit at the lower hem. Had a mint? Check. Documents? Check. Posture? Semi-check. Adjusting necessary. Back straight, firmer walk. Done. Hopefully. As long as you don’t have to take those reckless stairs down south, you’re surprisingly ready for this. And what kind of preparations can you take for this kind of encounter in the first place anyway.

Beside the door, a concierge behind a luxurious, bulky table lifts his golden-framed glasses. They’re exceptionally thin and round, making their wearer appear like a wise, yet prying owl. Mister Mark Lee, apparently, going by how Taemin described him to you. 

Oh God, Taemin’s pointers saved your life finding this place. He’s been so forthcoming and took the time to explain as much as he could. The moment makes you reminisce a little. Your eyes lose focus.

Meanwhile, fully in the moment, the conscierge seems to cloud himself in the mystery of his dark green suit without any words. A man as groomed as this very Victorian penthouse. And this very borough, and this very carpet you’re standing on. Greeting you with a nod as understated as can be. 

It’s not like he’s treating you like air — he simply keeps the certain reserve you’d expect from a nocturnal bird. Or so it seems. That you’d be scrutinized you already expected, but this way feels a bit uneasy in the chest. If you’re the mouse to the owl, you want to move on past that door as fast as you fucking can.

You try to continue standing straight and hand him your letter as inconspicuously as possible. Oh, that damn piece of paper that turned your life around. A little ‚good evening‘ barely leaves your throat and Mister Lee presses a button underneath the table top after gazing over the document nearly thrice. Following his insistent eyes, you leave your phone on the table altogether, and now have virtually nothing to hold onto. You opt for putting your hands in your navy blue pants pockets. If that’s any good around here, staying a little hellishly casual. 

‘A very good evening indeed,‘ is what Mister Lee’s eyes seem to reply.

The door shifts open with a dull, booming sound. Very well then. You stagger inside toward what’s hopefully behind it — suddenly feeling so terribly exhausted. Hazy. You don’t know how it hit you. So many scents. Impressions. Movement. Space. Eyes. Heartbeats. 

You try hard to focus on the first candle you can see around, and you do find one, and it does ground you. After their split-second delirium, your feet anchor on the carpet now, and the scenery pulls you back to breathing. Now, the bigger picture becomes a lot clearer. 

There are several men settled everywhere across the room that opens before you so luxuriously. All dressed in the finest of garments and polished shoes, donning the most annoyingly impeccable haircuts on top of that. Everything about this room screams dignity, and haughtiness, and a hefty bank account. 

But you can’t deny another, stronger hunch. The presence of one gentleman in particular sends a chilly feeling down your spine. You can’t tell who it is now. You just know that somebody here is very different. Dangerously so.

Between armchairs, chandeliers, blood-filled cups and side tables, you spot arrangements of night-blooming jasmine and daffodils. Large and opulent, really catching your eye with their elegant trumpet shapes. 

Perhaps, and you really have no clue whether that’s a good theory, to suggest that however solid teak and mahogany this entire interior might be, there is still life and scent in it. But it’s all… so carefully curated. Too deliberate to be authentic in the very least, and that’s what is making you tense up so much. You know very well that nobody in this room, if it weren’t for this meeting, would be preoccupied with flowers. Except maybe Taemin. But he’s half-elven, so that doesn’t count. Elves love jasmine.

Meanwhile, you suspect that the cups with blood were purposely brought in to catch you off guard pretty much right away. To test your self-control, get you startled, or lord knows what. Power games in this club, you’d not be surprised. But the scent really is so overbearing. You become all light-headed. Whatever they set up for you here, it’s already working. You feel like falling asleep in the middle of the damn night. 

The fumes, and the candles, and the daffodils—

„Wong Yukhei,“ a voice finally pierces through the mist inside your brain. 

You perk up. It belongs to a figure seated in the deeper middle of the room. A dark-haired man, noticeably tall and baritoned, with full lips, immense shoulders. In fact, a frame to behold all tailored in matte black. Down to the pointed oxford shoes, laced up in a very brisk way as if someone pulled a corset very tight.

„Yes—?“

„Half-lycan. Club president. Have a seat.“

Now you know why he speaks first.

It’s like you’re frozen on the spot. Judging by how muscular he is underneath that very suit, especially around the upper body, you don’t want to catch a glimpse of what happens when the moon says hi. Half werewolf it is. No wonder his hands are huge like paws. You don’t have to count one and one together to know that this guy could go casual beastmode and rip the room’s door in half.

„A... alright.“

Stammering like a fool isn’t something you planned but comes out as a sheer reflex. To distract from the awkward tone, you resort to looking around. You wonder if the club is in full attendance. Because who knows, they could await some more people like you later on. There are actually quite a few empty seats to choose from. A dozen, perhaps a bit more. Each with a filled cup on a table, right to the brim, one more flavorful than the other.

Since the president didn’t gesture towards any seat in particular, you find yourself having to make an intuitive choice. Whether that’s some werewolfey ‚where does she put up her territory?‘ personality quiz or whatever… is unimportant because your nose is already telling you precisely where to sit anyway. In fact, obnoxiously so. It’s itching like crazy at most of the scents except one. You realize — at least that you can rely on. There’s that one cup you want to be close to. Ignoring it would probably torture you for the entire night so you give into it.  

Taking the empty chair at the chimney fire on the right side of the room comes naturally. And: With several eye pairs resting very firmly on you. But your attention is elsewhere already. The blood in the goblet of this particular table really does smell like the most delicious thing. There’s something magically attractive about the consistency. You can feel with your whole body just how amazingly juicy and welcoming the drink is. For a strange reason, it seems like it’s almost iridescent. You’ve never seen that before. Everyone in the room has the current pleasure of watching you being smitten by a fucking drink.

There’s no way they didn’t see you lick your lips like a first class pervert either.

Whatever first impression you’re giving them, it’s one that makes a part of you mentally run out the door again. Poor Taemin thought you were a promising invitee. You feel bad for disappointing him already. Slave to your instincts, how on earth are you even supposed to sit here in the finest and highest of company. Creating sexual tension over a glass of blood in a millionaire’s club or whatever.

Still, against all odds, the other part of you glady reclines in your seat, sleazy like a retired Russian oligarch on his yacht. Because that means: Smelling that heavenly scent up close. Hell, just fuck everything else. It’s the most gratifying thing you’ve come across. Did they brew you a damn magic potion or something? 

You have a hard time snapping back to the conversation and realize everyone is still intently looking at you admiring your cup as if it’s a prime time television event with Zac Efron in it. Which you now force yourself to break from. Not so gladly this time. You really want to have a sip, but Yukhei’s pressing gaze demands you to make your move. You wonder why his eyes are so livid, but again realize that he probably doesn’t need the moon to be wolf-like, does he.

„So you were the one who came up with inviting me, then?“ you say, and the words come out much more bluntly. It surprises you. Since you skipped the introduction and small talk altogether, maybe your mouth thought, why not strike a direct tone. Just being in the vicinity of something so mouthwatering makes you feel on top of the world out of literal nowhere. You’re about to lose your train of thought again that Yukhei fervently shakes his head.

„It was Baekhyun’s suggestion. A terribly daring one I thought,“ he says. „Thank him that we agreed to meeting you in person. In fact, he was very adamant we’d do so.“

You look around the assembly, hoping to find clarity about whoever prompted the invitation letter. Since nobody seems to put anything forth, you quiz yourself on who of these gentlemen looks like a Baekhyun, and why nobody is reacting. Everyone’s literally sitting there like marble statues. 

According to Taemin, getting an invitation to Club Daemon is not only something that excludes the general public, but also merely a fleeting ‚rumor‘. Not even a neighborhood legend if it came down to it. Because on more official papers, this guild does not exist. Whoever wanted to invite you was indeed taking a notable risk — to the president’s nuisance, on top of that.

Oh yeah. Now you’re at the edge of your seat.

„Eh. I’m afraid Baekhyun cannot meet you in this particular setting,“ Yukhei breaks into a lop-sided smirk. You’re shocked he’d pull a dismissive face like that. So openly, like he simply doesn’t give one damn all of a sudden. Strangely enough, it still doesn’t take away from just how nobly he’s dressed. It’s seriously messing with your head. Or is it the goblet?

„So, this setting, um—“

You look like Yukhei just spoke in a different language now. Stifled laughter among the guild members. At least they’re reacting now. That’s progress. But you’re even more confused and stuff your hands back into your pockets.

„See. Carpets are typically not Baekhyun’s favored grounds. He’s half-merman,“ Yukhei continues, very much composed in his seat now just as before. And it finally registers.

Oh man.

You can’t spot some giant water tank in this room or anything of that kind. There’s no way he could just casually hang out here. Of course he can’t greet you in the club. Sweet Jesus. You have too much blood and flower scent around you.

„But not to worry. You’ll get to meet your sweet benefactor,“ Yukhei leans back, the smirk growing even wider. „Baekhyun can speak to you in the club bathroom from time to time. If he’s not out there playing around in the bays like the kid he is.“

„I see? Uh...“

You shift back and forth in your seat. Even if your brain somehow tries to piece that information together, keeping your eyes off the chalice is so hard all over again. 

You can’t lie, it’s even starting to get you hot and bothered from the toes up. Gritting your teeth is all you can do not to gasp out loud. Literally, you’re one moan away from semi-public indecency. That is, if human law applies to this room. Going by how everyone is so keen to see you react, it probably doesn’t. Your ears are telling you that pretty much everyone is holding their breath right now. Untouched orgasm at 7:30 PM? Wasn’t on your plan either. But looks like you’re headed for it. You wonder if Yukhei has been planning to set you up for this and—

„We didn’t put this up to confuse you, Y/N. Please feel free to drink. We want you to feel welcome here,“ a second, innately friendly voice addresses you now, parting the silence like a vintage knife through warm butter. It’s much softer than Yukhei’s, as if laced with honey.

Immediately, you recognize the sound. It is Taemin.

Seated to Yukhei’s far left in a flawlessly upright posture. Blond and lavish, dressed in a type of brocade tux. It seems to be a mix of burgundy and golden pipings in the fire light, but you could be wrong. With good reason and regard to most members present, the room is kept very dark. In fact, the atmosphere couldn’t be any more controlled. Nevertheless — finally reuniting with him is such a relief. You already want to thank him for averting a full-on catastrophe.

„Taemin! It’s good to see you again,“ you finally break the tension. Your tone loses all discomfort, your face brightens. Taemin gently bows in response. His poise lights up the room, and you even manage to detach from the chalice.

„The pleasure is ours. It’s great to see you again as well.“

You recall. The memory is still so vivid. He was the one who brought you the letter in the late evening. You were sitting on your balcony scrolling through your phone feed and boom. There he was, sitting — even seemingly glowing or whatever it was — in a cherry tree. With his pointy ears and an envelope for you, the exact invitation Baekhyun had suggested. As far as you can remember, he’s been elected as the Club’s vice president very recently.

Taemin explained a lot of the club’s incentives to you on the balcony. Even if you did manage to drop your phone in shock at his appearance, his open approach had you packing up your bags for the mansion in a matter of two days. Seems like the club knows who to send when they don’t want to intimidate possible recruits. If Yukhei showed up in that dark suit and the low brow, you probably would’ve turned into a bat and headed for the forest. Well, or something like that. Meanwhile, Taemin feels like you’ve been familiar for decades.

„Do drink. It is handpicked for you!“

„Thank you, Taemin,“ is all you can say, and turn back to your drink with shaky hands. Finally. And well. If Taemin offers it, it can’t be wrong. It’s far too late to ignore it anyway. You already grab the base of the chalice like you’re holding on to dear life.

The first sip is so hasty, Yukhei almost has to laugh out loud. Or is it a laugh? Taemin frowns right at him, but you’re too busy chugging to notice. Hawthorn, lotus, apples, water lily, chestnuts and vanilla. So many nuances, too little tastebuds and too little words to describe it. You’ve never tasted blood of such a quality. For free. Not one pause to breathe, it just goes down like fine liquor.

Everything in your body starts to feel completely alert. Whoever this blood belongs to, whatever is going on, this is the most thrilling feeling you’ve experienced in a while. It’s like floating inches above your seat. Your face is feeling all heated as if the chimney fire burns your cheeks. Your skin is normally pretty cold and stays that way if you think about it. 

At the same time, you’re surprisingly refreshed on the inside. The blood left a minty trace on the back of your tongue. You know the men are watching you, but you can’t help but ride the high of the taste for a few seconds with your eyes closed. Once the rush is fully over, you slack in your seat. Open your eyes. And sigh out. Goddamn. 

If that means to feel welcome here, then you’re more than convinced. Taemin knows how to serve an aperitif. Everything about your body feels relaxed. You bet your pupils are more blown than Yukhei’s dick in his freetime going by how he sits and watches your reaction. Manspreading is an understatement. Wolfspreading is the new thing. Literally, what on earth happened. He’s glowering at you like you just stole the keys to the glitzy silver sportscar that’s parked in front of the mansion and without a doubt must be his. Your eyes aren’t deceiving you even if the light is so dim: He’s straight-up gotten all angry to the point of gritting his teeth.

But there’s also something that tells you he’s afraid.

„Now, you probably want to know why we’re interested in you, right,“ Taemin gently continues once you put the empty chalice down and make very needed use of the napkin already placed next to the cup. Heartbeat: Speed of a bullet train arriving at a station.

„I’m starting to see why.“

Most of your exhaustion is actually… gone. Out of the blue. You’re feeling much more perceptive, much faster in every move. Maybe Edward was right with his personal brand of heroin. You just never knew because you had 5 Pounds 50 blood from TESCO’s every day until now. So that’s that.

„We didn’t find a novice in twenty years,“ Taemin says. „Nor a half-vampire for that matter.“

In passing, he ushers a slender-looking butler towards your table. Casually, as if he did it a million times already. So far, using the shade of the lighting, the butler had been blending in with a velvet curtain until now. You ask yourself if you’ve actually noticed him or not. You can’t clearly tell which is strange. But then again, going by the course of events until now, not really.

„Right,“ you reply, trying to focus on Taemin — without much success. The butler simply looks too striking. He uses a large carafe to refill what probably measures up to another quarter liter into your chalice. He looks at you with sheer intent, it’s Yukhei’s gaze times ten, almost like it’s bundled into a lazer. Instead of being excited about the refill, you find yourself trying to desperately decipher the butler’s look. It’s not wolfy this time, that’s for sure. It’s something far, far different. It’s something deeply scary.

The butler lingers. It takes five seconds too long for him to return to the curtain. There’s that feeling again. That hunch from before when you came in, so much stronger now. You’re shivering. The man looks so serious in his crisp red suit, with the pin stripes and a golden pocket watch at his lapel. His aura is so freezing cold.

„Meaning, our guild could urgently use a new addition,“ Taemin keeps on speaking, with Yukhei closely listening to how he puts his words. In the meantime, the butler stands completely still in the dark, merging with the curtain almost completely again. But you can tell his eyes are on you. His frame looks so skinny at a distance, but you can tell he’s much stronger than that. Lord knows Yukhei might not be the only one who could break the door in half.

You hold on tight to the napkin in your lap. Where you thought you’d feel elated, you’re all sober now.

„Twenty years is a long time,“ you comment, a lot more dryly this time.

Even in a club where nobody ages by human standards, this could be quite a frustration. Looking around, you begin to understand why the invitation was such an urgent matter and there are many more empty seats. All the members look very established and at home to say the very least. Nobody here appears to be a novice.

„It is,“ Taemin replies. „You can see why we wanted to talk to you.“

„Yes. I can. Thank you for considering me. It was a bit out of nowhere but, I guess there’s no way to do it differently.“

Taemin nods. Meanwhile, Yukhei remains visibly displeased in his center seat, with his expression growing much darker by the minute. You can’t tell whether he didn’t like you downing the blood so fast like a post-diet Dracula or how Taemin explained all of this to you now. You don’t have to wonder for a long time, though.

„That we expand our assembly with a half-vampire out of all possibilities— was not my idea,“ Yukhei taps his fingers onto the lion-shaped armrests of his chair. The poor fellas probably have a hard time carrying his frame, fragile as they look. Taemin, on the other hand, is as nonchalant and petite as you got to know him. Like a feather on his seat, he sways his torso ever so slightly while he listens. Then, he reaches over to pat Yukhei on the shoulder with a wide, reassuring smile.

„But you were still delighted that Baekhyun found someone, didn’t you.“

„You make it sound like a public holiday. Eh, we’re recruiting, Taemin.“

„You didn’t take too long to agree to sending the invitation at all. Back when Kai joined, you needed five months to say yes. And he’s half-lycan himself.“

„Because Jongin was a grade A stupid bastard… and still is,“ Yukhei darts an even lower gaze to a particularly shaded corner of the room. Whoever this guy Kai is, he’s sitting right there and grins his life away. Now that you set your eyes on him, you’re about to piss your fucking pants.

Even behind a particularly large array of jasmine bouquets, his silhouette looks the most powerful out of all the club members despite him not being as tall as Yukhei. Where you would’ve called the Yukhei ‚strong‘, Kai was first and foremost athletic — head to toe, with a looming frame. He’s kept silent for the entire time, but he sure listened well.

„It’s a competition, Yukhei,“ the silhouette crosses his legs, laughing. „Whoever is bastardly enough is qualified for being the club president. Sounds like I’m headed right for it. But you’re also knee-deep. Knee-deep, I’m telling you.“

Kai’s voice is much lighter than you thought it would be, but the way he speaks commands instant respect. Yukhei’s answer is a mixture of a growl and a huff, but it’s so blended together that it’s becoming hard to distinguish to your reeling ears. All you know is that the atmosphere in the room feels like a string ready to snap.

So that’s what half-lycans are all about, then.

In case they’re about to fully out-bastard each other, you take another sip to distract yourself. You hear your ears pulse even more. The blood really is delicious and takes your mind off. To your surprise and relief, Yukhei squarely turns to the assembly with a much more point-blank attitude in his movement now. Kai remains entirely ignored.

„That she’s not part of a vampire clan and we couldn’t find possible members for so long is the only reason she’s here, that’s all.“

„Enough a reason,“ Taemin smiles even wider, and puts more soothing into his phrasings. Kai’s unsettling presence doesn’t seem to faze him the very least. 

„We’d be happy to have you join us if you’re inclined,“ he now addresses you again. „I’m sure our talk about the training and formal things will bore you, though. I reckon you want to be introduced to your kind first.“

„Oh…“

Your kind.

That explains a lot. A whole damn lot, to be exact. You can’t help but suck in air, but it’s less awkward than you thought. In fact, your reaction brings some life into the room. Looks like everyone has anticipated this. Yukhei’s eyes narrow. Kai seems even more alert. You feel like a lab rat new to the cage.

„You felt his presence when you stepped in, didn’t you,“ Taemin asks, his head tilting a bit to the side.

You did. The half-elf looks confirmed in his statement.

„It’s him, right,“ you direct your eyes toward the curtain, but don’t dare to lift your gaze any further.

The butler.

He’s been sticking out like a sore thumb.

You felt him since the very first moment.

„Yes,“ Taemin says.

Your suspicion, or rather, what your body told you from the beginning with every shiver and every fiber, was entirely right: With an interpretation you couldn’t grasp just then. But now you do. Your intuition didn’t lie.

„Ma’am. Pleased to meet you. Lee Taeyong,“ the butler strikes a surprisingly fluid introduction. You freeze up again. It’s very unlike his stiff positioning, stepping forth from his usual waiting place so his face is visible to you in candle light entirely at a bit of a distance. Lee Taeyong. His face… really is sharp.

„I was expelled from my clan 80 years ago,“ he disposes of his tray to speak freely now. His voice is so deep, it almost resonates in your ribcage. But then, you see something vulnerable in him. You don’t know what it is.

„Expelled?“

„You can imagine. They found out I wasn’t full vampire,“ he continues. Now you do see them. His fangs. You should’ve noticed. Damn. „That’s how I got here.“

And now you actually get what happened. Taeyong is an outcast. Looking past his teens, 150, 170 years, a tenth of Taemin’s age at the very least. And he’s half-vampire who’s been on his own pretty much: Just like you. That’s something that still didn’t sink in yet. Your kind. The butler of Club Daemon. 

No wonder he took his time pouring the blood into your chalice and looked at you like you’re some kind of revelation. If the cups in the room smell only half as delicious to him as they do to you? He has admirable self-control just standing there at the carpet without losing his mind.

You shift forward on your seat — as does Yukhei, unseen to you. Almost automatically, your tone becomes more tense.

„So what happened?“

„I didn’t know my entire family history until that point. I was orphaned,“ Taeyong expands, his mimic controlled. „The clan was all I knew. I never thought I could have any demon heritage. Literally any. For decades. Until my father showed up. It was…I didn’t know he was that far up the hierarchy.“

Your jaw drops. He has to be kidding you. That can only mean one thing, there’s only one person he could refer to.

„You met Satan personally?!“

Dead silence in the room. You could hear a pin drop. In fact, an elven hair strand.

„I wish I didn’t,“ the butler finally says. With a more silent voice. You can tell he has to cave in, force himself. „He gave me this.“

Taeyong begins to slowly loosen his tie. Taemin already averts his eyes. The butler goes on to reveal a left collarbone so scarred, you can’t bear to look at it for very long yourself. The tissue has been deeply torn. The bone, presumably broken twice, healed in an odd way on top of that. You feel the pain in the very same spot within your own body.

Taeyong doesn’t have to tell you that the altercation left his arm fully paralyzed. You just know, like you could sense his presence from far away already. Meeting his father changed his life forever in the worst way possible. Now you understand why Taeyong does the butlering in the club — he can keep his left hand behind his back at all times.

„His father rejected him,“ Yukhei says, sterner than ever. His anger has faded, and an extreme seriousness begins to sink his brows.

„It’s that — Neither my clan nor demon folk really want me present,“ Taeyong’s face is even more barren of an expression now. He’s bottled it all up, it’s hard to watch. It sounds like he hasn’t spoken about this for years. „This was the only place I could go at that point. Yukhei was very helpful. I hope you can feel the comfort of being accepted here like I do.“

„I… don’t understand why Satan would disapprove of you so much, Taeyong.“

„Some demons willingly get together with vampires,“ Taemin steps in now, careful in his intonation. „But Lucifer rarely does. And, only when he’s drunk. If you ask him on a normal day, and I know this sounds harsh… he despises most of pure vampires, and half-breeds even more so. He is also Yukhei’s father.“

„He is?!“

Now you’re almost falling off your chair. That Yukhei’s father must be one of the higher-ups in the demon ranks was already a no-brainer, but this —

„Idiot cast me from hell the second he found out I can grow these longer than his silly horns,“ Yukhei points at his mouth, baring all teeth now. Even in their natural shape, they’re already razor sharp, sporting clearly prominent fangs. Even your canines, and those are hardly used and worn down, aren’t as slicing as his. When he says he can grow them that long, you fucking believe him.

„He’s… not been the most accepting dad to say the least,“ Taemin folds his hands in his lap. “And doesn’t stick up for any mistakes.”

„’Cause he’s an insecure ass,“ Yukhei makes a disgusted grimace. „Fucks around and then gets mad at what he’s done. Vampire girls he sure likes when he’s doing one of his stupid orgies. But not the consequences. He’s so easily threatened. That’s almost funny.“

You’re stiffer than ever now, glued to your seat. Not in a million years did you think there was some serious family drama going on behind those fancy suits.

„So that’s why this club exists. Satan can’t handle us,“ Kai adds, kneading his thighs. Looking much more detached, almost demure. You can tell that Taeyong’s speech hit the underbelly of everyone in the room. That even Kai looks so sunken catches you off guard. „We’re half this, half that. I mean look at us. Yukhei and I could never be part of a pure wolves pack. Never. We can’t mingle with demons either. They doubt us in any place. Shitty situation.“

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Now, the double head emblem on the embossed door makes a lot more sense. It’s not just for the aesthetics. Two faces going into opposite directions. Always torn. Always the onlooker, yearning from a distance. Unable to go in either direction. Seems like you’re in the right place. Or the wrong one: Because you bet this assembly is the very eye of the storm.

„Why did Satan not try to attack the Club yet? Isn’t there even a stairway to hell in this house?“ you ask. If Satan got pissed off by Yukhei’s or Taeyong’s abilities, several people of that kind in one place sounds pretty much the ultimate provocation. Installing a designated hell door with smoke all around even more so. 

„He sure wants to,“ Kai shrugs, again, smirking in this very distinct way. He builds himself up again, and the teasing undertone in his voice strengthens back to normal. „But he’s afraid and doesn’t know about half of us. You see… Hellboy has no way of gauging what expects him. Even if he fucking hates us and wants us dead in a ditch, whatever. We know him inside out, too. Even more than he knows us. I’m sure he doesn’t want to face Taeyong now that he’s not young and weak anymore. He only exploits way down the hierarchy. He knows he can win there.“

„Makes… sense. Sort of— preying on vulnerable people.“

That an insecure hell boss is the reason this very club has formed? Seems to be a better explanation than you thought. No way so many species could stick together otherwise. How you’re in a room with two high functioning, protein-powered lycans both standing over six feet is already a miracle. Just sitting there sipping your bloody drink. There’s even an elf guy. That’s some surreal shit, even Salvador Dalí wouldn’t believe it.

„And, um. Saying that there’s a hell door is a joke Taemin pulls on every recruit,“ Taeyong scratches his head now. 

„Everybody thought that Mark was vaping but he actually put up a room difuser down the hall,“ Kai adds. „He’s using essential oils in there since a couple weeks. So sometimes we do have some fog round that area. But there’s no actual stairway or anything. It’s a club tradition... a hoax.“

Your what-the-fuck expression must be hard to beat right now.

„Er. All right then. So much about hell smoke.“

A whole damn prank. Taemin is not as angelic as he looks, is he. Still part demon, after all. It really felt like there was an entrance to hell around when you arrived here. Taemin’s little giggle right now doesn’t worry you as much as Yukhei’s grunting.

„So much about a hoax,“ he growls back. „I wish we actually had that door so I could go beat his ass.“

High functioning, protein-powered lycans with daddy issues. You never thought this club had major drama. Your lips think its time for another comfort sip from your chalice. Blessed thing you have that one. Because all this… got you into something bigger than expected. Eating shrimps on a terrace with some fellow half-breeds on a cozy Sunday evening? Nothing of that kind. Rating Christopher Lee movies and signing up on vampire tinder together just for fun? Nothing of that in sight.

„So, naturally. That we can recruit you is a good feat,“ Kai continues. „You might grow very strong in training.”

“Strong in training?”

“Vampire half-breeds are always up for a surprise. You see how Taeyong is like. He can open jars even I can’t crack. With just one hand. Long as we have a balance of power with hell, the Club is quite safe. Even from my father.“

Looks like what you got yourself into is a Cold War that coincidentally involves people from Down Under — but it’s not Australians.

„Are you Satan’s son as well, Kai?“

Kai shakes his head quite firmly. Just how stark his face structure is becomes visible when Taeyong puts a candle into his vicinity, helping you gauge Kai’s outline much better, which is a bit more reassuring. The butler seems to almost read your thoughts. Your initial shiver gladly has been in decline ever since Taeyong spoke up. And you do believe he can open those jars.

„My old man? Mammon.“

„Mammon? Ugh.“

You can already guess what this is all about. You don’t need to wait a second for Kai to go on a rant.

„He’s a fucker, fucked up, a fucking twat, and fucks around even more so than Satan,“ Jongin kicks his left foot, looking mighty grumpy in the candle light. „I’m sure you know what he’s in charge of. He likes fear and chaos. To say the very least.“

You sure can imagine. Mammon governs the most powerful resource on the planet. Or rather, what people do with it, so… you already don’t have to know anything more than that.

„Talking about him is of no use,“ Yukhei intervenes. „Lost cause, wasted time. What I wanna say is. The vampire clans also don’t know much about us either,“ he now points at you. „That’s our advantage. And the reason why you will have to quit most of your regular life if you agree to be a member. Or take a serum that will make you forget about meeting us. At least, up to the point where you received the letter. I know this is quite a severe change. You can imagine how discrete we have to be. Given everything you heard.“

Yukhei looks dead serious.

Well, alright then. The case is clear. This is legitimate big business.

Club „Most Hated Half-breeds“ Daemon. Outsiders, all of them. The first rule is: You do not talk about Club Daemon. A guild for the All-Transylvanian Rejects, the crossovers from hell gone hiding, the MIB of supernatural creatures. And all just because big daddy Lucifer loves to host an infernal orgy every now and then and never heard of a condom. It’s crazy. So much information intake, it’s time to sort your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, let the blood chalice dance in your cupped palm. Sweeping the remaining liquid at its very bottom, rhythmically. Sweet lifeline. You observe how the drops run as if nothing else in the world existed. And still, you have crystal clear hearing, and your voice is again becoming firmer. It’s the effect of the drink, you can feel it. Such good stuff, really.

„It’s not that I didn’t anticipate it. Taemin said something along those lines when we met. I get why you have to be discrete,“ you hum. Even telling you about the serum before any other information would give away too much. „I’d be back to square one anyway.“

Taemin nods at you.

„We’ll always be between elves and demons, mermen and demons, vampires and demons, werewolves and demons… This club wants to protect anybody who’s caught between chairs. We go to great lengths with secrecy. I hope you will join us in our cause. It’s a new life. Lucas has great plans for us.“

‚Lucas‘ seems to be Yukhei’s club nickname. Taemin appears to confide in him a lot even if he will smooth out his blunders. Meanwhile, you remember how Taemin talked to you about his own parents on the balcony. 

Apparently, none other than Beelzebub is Taemin’s father since over ten centuries. His latest habit seems to be blowing up his son’s phone with strange texts about recent hell politics. If that’s not enough, he asks about what he’s doing all day. It really is a new level of hell-icopter parenting. No wonder Taemin learned to be so appeasing in all situations.

„There are also ways of us finding out who your parents are,“ Taeyong comes to rest his right hand on your shoulder. Carefully, as if asking if it’s okay to touch you. You let him, without much care. Simply by— well, what is it, instinct?

Particularly Yukhei seems to observe this moment with much intent. Monitoring with piercing eyes, wild and deep. Trying to see through you at all cost. Surveying whether you’re a suitable club member, fair enough. But you seriously begin to wonder why he’s trying so damn hard to get into your head. He wants you on his side, sure, why’d he stare like that all the time?

Meanwhile, you don’t even know much about yourself except that you find veiny necks extremely appealing. Duh. So what’s there to analyze. You’re still kinda new to this. Blunt how Lucas is, wouldn’t he tell it to your face if he knew something you didn’t by now?

„At least, your demonic heritage,” Kai finishes the butler’s thought. “It’s not an easy discovery, however.“

Taeyong’s hand really does comfort you. But the thought of involving yourself in family affairs feels more than daunting and spoils the moment more than you want to. It’s something you could avoid until now thanks to simply not knowing much about your background. But apparently there’s no way to run from it.

„You might wanna anticipate that shit,“ Kai cracks his neck from side to side, then adjusts the sleeves of his white camisole. You’re suddenly so very well aware that he can probably see and smell your hesitation from a mile away. „Because when pa from hell shows up to see what’s going on? Preparation is better than being sorry. You gotta know who you’re dealing with. Art of war 101.“

Kai pointing at Taeyong’s battered left side reminds you all the more that lifting the veil is probably better than hoping for the best. If Satan happens to be your dad as well, you’re in huge trouble should he ever find you. Kai is right. Without allies and any knowledge of what you’re dealing with, you’d be lost.

Not to mention that Taeyong and Lucas would be your half brothers. Among probably a thousand other people. You didn’t walk through this door to get instant patchwork family. It would be a whole town of siblings now that you think about it.

If Satan has been even busier than that, which you’re sure of, that could mean an entire nation of people related to you somewhere overseas. Most of them being far from half-breeds. Why? Because Satan still preferred his own kind if he wasn’t completely hammered.

„Sounds like a nice prospect,“ you mumble, arms tightly crossed. Thousands of demons all out for your neck. Joining a notorious club network would certainly hide your identity much better than you hanging out in your small apartment in the middle of nowhere behaving like an average citizen. Glorious. You hate everything.

Which one person, as always, disagrees with.

„He makes it sound more dramatic than it is. Especially in this club you are more secure,“ Taemin softly adds, swiping a blonde strand from his right eye. „You must understand. Kai is in charge of defense. We all have our tasks.“

„Figured as much.“

„We all specialize in something we’re really suited for. Depending on our species, usually,“ Taeyong picks up Taemin’s point, and you begin to understand.

On the balcony, Taemin had even mentioned a gryffin member who worked as the designated club driver. Mister Ten as they called him, who was always out and about for a gazillion tasks. From hell mail to picking up tailored suits to doing the shopping to frequenting hospitals and various butchers for… leftovers.

Taeyong being an older vampire would require very specific blood (type A respectably, whreas you preferred O), and both Lucas and Jongin are in their wolf prime. Kai being slightly older but all the more active by the looks of it. So, just like Baekhyun, Ten seemed to be busy tending to that all the time, nowhere to be seen nor even mentioned. Which was a little… suspicious. 

But the ‚everyone has a task‘ seems to be a big deal. And: Everybody is set up to take their spot very seriously, in their supposed element. Being the VP suits Taemin just like being the butler really suits Taeyong. Even Yukhei, you admit, has the exact leading, head-on personality, although mixed with a lot of tempers, that his position would require. And Kai — his body doesn’t lie. Of course he is in charge of defense.

„We would strive to find out your ideal role in the club, too,“ Taemin says. „Kai thinks about this scenario from a combat perspective, but know that cases like Taeyong’s are extreme ones. We’re used to this but you don’t have that struggle. It’s probably like different worlds at the start but don’t let it phase you.“

You exchange looks, and Taemin gives an empathetic nod. His face is really gentle. It seems trustworthy. Again, you notice how his diplomacy helps you the most right now. It’s a bit cryptic, but it’s the type of classy conduct you were expecting to find in the club. You’re damn glad he’s here. Half-elves simply have a different kind of wisdom.

„I guess,“ you look at Taeyong. „It’s an extreme case because he was part of a clan, right, and I wasn’t.“

„Smart,“ Taemin takes up a porcelain cup from his own table and guides it to his lips. It appears to be some sort of elven elixir inside of it, light blue and sparkling. Maybe that’s the source of his maturity or something. „This is exactly the reason how so much conflict was possible in the first place.“

„Right.“

„You grew up with adoptive parents after your mother’s passing. It was unfortunate but also a hidden feat of luck later on,“ Taemin balances the cup between his elegant fingers. „Nobody from hell could find you. You didn’t show many abnormal traits. Nor were you close to any clans that fostered your abilities or spread the word. But especially the former. You grew up in human ways. Your abilities weren’t worked with.“

„Which we can do for you now if you want to,“ Taeyong clears your table off the empty goblet. Instead, he puts a booklet with a red ribbon around its hard cover just there. „In a more covert way that doesn’t arouse any attention.“

„Can we really do it so secretly?“

He really did read the concern out of your face all over again.

„Yes,“ Taeyong emphasizes, then directs his gaze toward the fireplace. „For any half-demon, half-vampire, this is the place to develop herself. We want to honor both sides and work with it. As good as we can.“

„All other approaches usually fail because they’re one-sided,“ Taemin raises his tea cup indicating towards a thoroughly disgruntled Yukhei. You get what the elf wants to say by that.

Yukhei — another extreme case, perhaps the most severe. From a certain perspective, you can imagine how being antagonized by his father and wolf packs at the same time would motivate Lucas to run a club like this. And what would motivate him to act like this, anyway. 

Leading Club Daemon with a velvet gloves approach? It’d be more dangerous than an iron fist mentality. Although it feels so clear to you, past the nebula of the blood cocktail, that Yukhei completely turned this aggressive style into a hyperbole. But you never know what or whom he’s doing it for.

Even at such a young age. You are convinced he really can’t be anywhere near 30 years of equivalent human age even if his height and way of dressing makes him look so settled. His overall presence on top of that: Whatever training they have to offer, it must be compelling.

At this point, you can only say to yourself — fuck everything. And lords knows the whole club is green of envy. No wonder they’re staring at you like that. You grew up so unbothered, your life is a joke compared to theirs. You were ignorant about way too many things about yourself. Looking at how everyone here embraces their origin, not developing your abilities was a full-on heresy.

„I’m actually considering it,“ you browse through the booklet, directing all attention in the room at you so keenly. Taemin sits at the edge of his seat himself. The paper feels luxurious between your fingers. As a first page, the name of who assembled the booklet’s contents is printed in bold. Mark Lee, conscierge, Club Daemon. 1999 edition.

The text details several time lines, diagrams, and fact lists about vampire-demon halfbreed history, on top of outlining a program featuring traits that a club novice could develop. 

Sprouting and care of demon wings. Usage of blood banks. Defense against crosses and garlic. Cities with high vampire populations. Types of claws. The culture of hell. Demonic Spells. Battle Gowns. Impact of ‚Twilight‘ on public perception of Vampires. Symbolism. Vampiric Reflexes. Christopher Lee Movie Analysis. Avoiding Exorcism. Communication with hell hounds. On Hunting and Forests. Fist-fighting Lucifer. Evolution of Ancient Vampire Dress Codes. Fang safety. Hierarchy of hell. Nutrition. Choosing a castle. Strength development. The list is nearly 200 bullet points long.

And the majority of training, it states, is supervised by Kai. Even the lessons on Vampires and Sexual Relations. Other lessons are conducted by Taeyong and Mark, mapping the more theoretical contents.

Most of the listed training units feature things you never knew you could possibly try let alone perform. Some lessons are even more vital than you thought they would be. Things your apartment life wouldn’t have to offer in the very least. At this point, walking out the door would be a grave mistake for an entire variety of reasons and you trust your instinct. The only thing that makes you bargain is not the elephant — but the big and bulky alpha wolf in the room.

What to do about Yukhei. 

Given the hardliner choice between serum or a complete new existence, it’s a question you’ll have to postpone. Interestingly enough, even though he was lycan through and through, Kai doesn’t bother you nearly as much anymore after the initial shock effect faded.

So what is it about Lucas. Even more things you’ll have to find out, then.

You’re nervous with the booklet in your hands, but you can’t complain. The two cups of blood in your system have given you more courage to look the four of them in the eyes.

„Considering what: Joining for the cause or the heritage?“ Yukhei crosses his arms at the solar plexus. His eyes are so probing on you, but you keep your head straight. You very well know that he’s testing you with this one.

„Both. And I want to know my role, too.“

The president seems to ponder for a bit. Then, he hums. More placid than before, you note. He actually seems satisfied with that answer.

„Then let’s start out,“ Kai rises from his seat alongside Yukhei, and both walk towards the red curtain in big strides. Taeyong sweeps it to the side, revealing a heavy door to another room.

Unlike the rest of the house, or at least the parts you’ve seen so far, this area has no embellished walls or ceilings. Not a spark of luxurious colors, either. No dark materials, no curtains, no dutch paintings, just concrete everywhere. It looks heavily worn, but strangely, doesn’t seem to be a relic like the fireplace room’s wooden tiles. All lighting is purely artificial. It seems part gym, part studio, and all furniture is solid metal, minimal, angular. You’d never expect such a modern, plain grey room to be anywere around the house. It smells like a damn hospital in here.

„Our training grounds,“ Kai paces around the area, clearing it and turning a knob that seems to activate floor heating. „The second safest place in the manor.“

„What’s the safest one, then?“

„We have a bunker downstairs. Flood-proof, radiation-proof.“

And Satan-proof, you don’t have to guess.

„Oh wow.“

„It’s unused so far when it comes to catastropes,“ Yukhei roughly pulls off his tux jacket and hangs it over a steel chair. Given how he stretches his arms, you figure it’s to gain some mobility. Or… to show off his huge build to impose his authority and intimidate you which surely is working. „But we do run it as a makeshift jail.“

„You’re keeping criminals in here?!“

„If you’d call Kai a criminal,“ Yukhei raises a brow.

Now you understand. The bunker is actually not meant for somebody else unless the situation calls for it.

„You’re isolating yourself during full moons.“

„You got it,“ Kai nods. „Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. Two days. I got used to the cold down there. And Yukhei locks himself in here with a pile of meat.“

„I…see.“

So that’s why the concrete walls look so damaged despite not seeming that old. If you look close enough, it’s actually not hard to imagine how there’s massive strength and claws at work here. And there must be plenty of things to desinfect afterwards. Hence the hospital smell. 

But then again, Lucas is not the one who gets put in the bunker downstairs. If that one is the safest room, Kai is in all regards the strongest. Which makes sense given his task here. But something about it makes you shift from one foot to the other. If Kai has to jail himself in an atomic prison, what a fucking beast are you even dealing with?

So this is with who you’ll train with, then.

„Nothing you’ll see anything of,“ Taemin clasps his hands, bringing your mind back to the image of meat piled up all over this room. „The member’s private rooms are way up on the 3rd floor. You’ll be situated there as well, in whatever free room you choose. They are very pleasant suites. The interiors are selected Victorian antiques. It’s not like around here.”

“Thank you, Taemin. That sounds great actually.“

“And— we can always predict their transformations without failure.“

„The suites have steel doors as well,“ Kai adds on. „Easy to lock from the inside. We’ve had centuries to think all of this through.“

„Reassuring…“

„Mind you. In case you feel you get a bad craving, you’re doing the same thing Kai and I do,“ Yukhei re-ties his left shoelace, foot placed on the metal chair like a 6’0 Napoleon. „It’s not like we aren’t the only people who have to protect others from ourselves.“

You don’t like the tone he’s striking and try not to look into his direction. As if you’re some crazed vampire lord with a body count and not a bloody amateur. Whatever cravings he’s talking about, it’s hard to imagine how you’d go absolutely buckwild on a concrete wall whining for blood.

„With half-vampires, well… It can happen,“ Taeyong helps Kai pull off his jacket as well. „But lycans still have to take more prevention if I may add. Simply because their whole being transforms and they’re gaining unexpected strengths from it. Vampires hardly do. Our strength is present always. We naturally learn how to deal with it each day. Lycans have exponentional and way more erratic powers in a shorter period of time.“

Now that puts it into perspective. You exchange a thankful glance with Taeyong. The butler gives a composed smile. Yukhei sees that and huffs. Looks like someone’s been projecting.

„We’re dealing with threats from the outside, better check the ones from the inside,“ Kai says, shrugging. „We can’t change that we’re aggressive species but we can lock a door ten minutes before shit goes down. Early risk detection. That’s gonna be a lot of what you’ll learn in the programme anyways.“

„Pragmatic, I guess,“ you scratch your chin. 

And he’s right. There’s nothing else the members could possibly do. Unleashing someone outside of the manor into the surrounding woods sounds like an overall bad idea. There’s a town somewhat nearby, fifteen minutes down the road. And as a matter of fact, you’ve never heard of suppression pills for half-demons on the market. Each species would need a different concoction: Tailored exactly to them in a long chemical process. Given the variety of Satan’s harem, that equals pure scientific madness.

Yukhei cracks his neck, puts the steel chair back in its spot. „We hope so. What reasons you’ll have to lock your suite for we’re about to find out.“

Three minutes later, you’re face down on the center table of the room, Yukhei pulling off your blazer. Even if you thought it would be much more unceremonious, he seems to do it rather slowly. In the meantime, Taemin rings a little silver bell. The sound is shrill and obnoxiously piercing. Seconds later, the concierge enters the room with a clipboard, introducing himself fully now. 

Oh shit, you almost forgot about the owl guy.

„Mark Lee. Bookkeeper, treasure master. Half-goblin. I also do our finances.“

Joining the club officially unlocks a whole new level of information, does it.

„Bookkeeper, I see?“

„Yes, we do keep a secret chronic.“

„Oh, alright? Spanning for how long?“

„Older than this house. I’ll introduce you to the archive next week, in fact. Welcome to Club Daemon, Miss. I’ll be documenting the findings of this test.“

Then, he turns to put down your phone on another table. First you missed it, now you don’t even care. Mark’s sudden appearance has you all wondering. He’s different now. Maybe his initial silence was very much connected to the exact level of secrecy Taemin has been talking about.

Mark comes across much more high-spirited when he talks, and his face appears youthful once it comes into motion. You give a little ‚mh’ as a rather distracted reply, and he begins a lightning fast scribble on his board, using a golden pen that looks like it’s worth your apartment.

Meanwhile, Kai’s interest seems to gravitate entirely to your shoulder blades. He goes about tapping the skin and muscles surrounding the bone, even pulling down the backside of your tanktop by an inch, causing you to hold your breath. He circles the spine, presses too fingers in at either side. He’s surprisingly subdued, but still quite hands-on. It’s not hard to feel that he has experience with examinations like that. In fact, Kai has the touch of a modern day chiropractor. Whatever you should think about that you don’t know yet.

It makes sense he’s in charge of all things physical. And — that the first thing he’ll do is get your wings to grow and work, wherever they may be inside your back right now. Lord knows what kind of reflex or trigger is needed to make them sprout. Mark, in full haste, keeps on checking off boxes on his board and hums, cocks his head every now and then.

Yukhei only seems to care for another area altogether. He holds up your ponytail to take a closer look at the back of your neck. You glare at him for pulling at your hair more than you thought was needed. Taemin volunteers to take up that task instead, with Yukhei going on scanning the nape. His hands are so large and grip at your shoulders, it feels like you’re some kind of prey being handled. Taeyong has no problems reading the discomfort on your face and clears his throat, prompting Yukhei to slack off at least a little.

„It won’t be anything painful,“ Taemin says. „We’re looking for any birth marks to appear.“

„Birth marks?“

„It shows up when other demons or half-breeds are around. It usually gives away who you’re related to. The color and shape show which rank your demon parent had. Not to worry.“

You chant a little thank you, Taemin inside of yourself as a way to keep yourself together and nod.

„Yukhei and Taeyong have large black markings that resemble a lighting shape if you will,“ Mark now speaks up. „Taeyong’s is so noticeable, he always wears his hair past his shoulders. And Yukhei mostly uses a high white collar.“

How fitting. You didn’t expect anything else if you’re honest.

„So I should cover it as well, right?“

„You shouldn’t tie your hair up this way so it can be seen,“ Kai says. „You can be glad it hasn’t alerted anyone yet.“

So… that’s why Yukhei did not seem to be very happy with your ponytail. You’ve been utterly reckless without even knowing. If there was someone who didn’t think it was a tattoo, you could have caused some major issues. But before you can apologize, the president already shakes his head.

„Well. You can keep that silly hairstyle. Because there’s nothing on that neck where there should be something.“

„What?“

„Not one mark. I’ve pressed every spot, there’s nothing. The birth mark should be visible already anyways since we’re here. Our presence activates it.“

Commotion. Yukhei lets go of your neck, Taeyong begins inspecting the area very hectically instead, joined by Kai. Mark seems to be in the most confusion right now and gnaws on his lips.

„But Baekhyun clearly said she has demon descent!“ Taemin interjects. „He sees such things the best!“

„Baekhyun… Little fish only wants her here because he has an eye on her,“ Yukhei grits his teeth, looking like he’s ready to kick the steel chair into a corner. „Swims around and invites anybody he fancies long as they have some decent fangs.“

„Yukhei!“ Taeyong cuts right back.

„I knew something wasn’t right,” Lucas keeps shaking his head, now seeming even more convinced. “Not a drop of demon blood in her.“

„What are you saying!“

Taeyong’s stoic face is turning livid now. You never thought he could turn this angry.

„Stop kidding yourselves. Get the serum, Taeyong. All that jazz we’ve been doing… I’m fucking tired. I told you it wasn’t my idea to invite her.“

Yukhei curses an entire string of very canine-sounding things under his breath and Taemin tries to hold him by the shoulders. The whole room feels like it’s about to explode. Taeyong doesn’t look like he’s ready to comply in the very least. Instead, the butler starts baring his fangs with a defiant snarl. Mark shouts out loud.

„Don’t—!“

„Are you deaf? Get the serum, bloodsucker! We’re not playing around anymore!“ 

Yukhei begins grabbing Taeyong by the collar. His eyebrows start to become fuller, and his teeth begin to crack, growing rapidly. Taeyong, eyes turning blood-shot, fastens his left hand behind his back. He positions himself to bring forth a powerful fist about to shatter right through Yukhei’s face. Alongside Taemin, you struggle to get up and reach them in an attempt to hold them apart. But before either of them can strike out—

„Wings! Her wings!“

Exclamations from all sides. Everybody turns to Kai. Panicked, he rests his hands just inches over your kidneys. Mark screams, loud enough to make Lucas shift his attention. Meanwhile, Kai gestures everyone back to the table.

„Here! Look here, now!“

Incredulous, Yukhei lets go of Taeyong’s suit and jumps right beside Kai. He pulls up your tank top to expose the lower back completely. Mark drops his board and pen. Yukhei’s hands roam all over the area that Kai mapped out through the fabric. And yes. Now you’re feeling bumps there, too. A painful tear pools at the bottom of your spine. The adrenaline of the situation didn’t make you realize.

„They… they’re unusually low,“ Mark chops his words, eyes wide and crouching behind Yukhei as if petrified.

„That means they’re large,“ Kai puffs out. „Look at the color, too. White, grey. They’re spotted in red. I’ve never seen anything similar. As if they’re bloodied.“

You can’t believe your ears, wind on the table. „Spotted wings?! What’s that about?“

„It’ll be even more visible when they’re spread. They’ve been hiding really fucking well down there,“ Kai says. „It’s very unlike any wings of ours. And I can’t get them out, all we did was locate them now.“

Great. You have special snowflake wings.

„Really?“ you’re pretty much staring like Mark yourself now. Kai affirms.

„It’ll take a trigger event that sprouts them. I don’t know what yet. Too early to say.“

„But what does the color mean, then?“

„Our wings are all some kind of… well, auburn. Neither Satan’s nor Mammon’s children have colorings like this. Only Taemin’s are blue.“

„But that’s regular for elves,“ Taemin adds.

A churning knot of panic seems to grow inside your gut. The fact that Yukhei keeps on groping about your back is starting to tug at your nerves as the cherry on top.

„Why, why are they like that? What is this?“

„Y/N,“ Mark inhales sharply. „Please calm down, we only—“

„And why are you touching me like I’m some kind of science object? Who am I?“ you shout at Kai and Lucas, prompting Taemin to slowly pull away both their wrists from the table. In this moment, you could jump either of them.

„I’ve, I’ve only heard of one case with such wings,“ Mark begins, but ends up choking up a cry. He’s shaking all over, takes his glasses off. „If you… turn her around…“

Yukhei doesn’t have to be told twice.

„So her mark is elsewhere? Isn’t it? She’s from a different family altogether?“

Mark nods.

Lucas swiftly flips you on your back. You can’t even blink and you’re already watching the ceiling with five faces right up close above you.  

„Let Taeyong do this,“ Taemin begins to urge Yukhei. „Lucas, you shouldn’t touch her now.“

That you need Taemin’s words for Lucas to hold himself back is starting to bother you. Him just grabbing you by the hips and turning you around felt more than strange. You imagine how in his mind, you’re probably a sizzling steak in a pan that he wants crispy on both sides and you don’t like it. One thing’s for sure: You’re not here for being werewolf dinner. What the hell.

What’s been on your mind even more is that Kai is not even half as annoying despite being so full of protein himself. With his chiropractor hands all over you on top of that. Is it that they’re from different families? Wouldn’t you dislike Taeyong as well then? He’s from the exact same corner of hell, after all. What exactly makes Lucas so pushy to you keeps on preoccupying everything you thought of until now as a bottom line. It’s not like you can ask him directly why he behaves like an asshole.

Three minutes pass. Lucas has stepped back from the table, watching like a hawk. A bit more composed, Mark picks up his pen and clipboard. He still can’t concentrate on writing. Taeyong gently probes each of your legs and ankles, even pulls your shoes and socks off to look at the underside of your feet. Finding nothing, he moves on to survey your wrists by smoothing over them, sending Yukhei an evil eye for grinding his teeth. Looks like someone doesn’t like others touching your soft spots.

Kai watches reactionless, seemingly deliberating. He’s in a different headspace, you can tell. Taemin helps Mark with ticking off boxes on the paper. Taeyong turns your jaw to either direction and slightly upwards to inspect the underside. He glides two fingers over your temples, and also asks you to open your mouth. He counts through your teeth with his digit and moves your upper lip to look at your fangs. Taemin emits a large ‚wow‘ when he does, and Yukhei growls out loud. Kai looks visibly interested, although he still seems to piece something together in his head.

„Extremely durable and angular,“ Taeyong says. „I’ve never seen this shape.”

„Me neither,“ Kai props up his palms on the edge of the table.

„Nobody in any clan I knew had fangs like that. Not even the elders. They’re so sharp… it must be inconvenient often,“ Taeyong requests a measuring tape from Mark who pulls it out of his left suit pocket.

„It is. Shreds every toothbrush,“ you mumble.

Taeyong glides his finger all across your gums above both canines, pressing on the root of each tooth. It seems to get a nerve inside your jaw going, and again your breath becomes shallow. He measures, dictates the unintelligble results to Mark. For some reason, you find whatever he’s doing strangely pleasant. Meanwhile, Lucas has been prowling around the table with a heavy gait. You adapt Taeyong’s method of sending him eye daggers.

„Can you put your story-telling on halt? This isn’t some vampire underground bar at Friday 12 PM,“ Yukhei grunts back at you and Taeyong. „Just say whatever the fuck this means. Shouldn’t you search for the birth mark?“

„Can’t quite tell now,“ Taeyong, sounding rather absent-minded, goes on counting through your teeth each. He’s feeling about like it’s a box of jewelry. 

Beside being an obvious difference to what your mostly human high school mates sported — if you could call them that, high school makes everyone inhumane — you never thought your fangs were anything out of the norm. There weren’t many people you could compare them to in your small home town in the first place. You only saw vampires on late night TV at best.

There’s a strange tingle that spreads across your body now. It’s unusual having someone so comfortable with your teeth.

Your first and last boyfriend headed right for the door when it came to kissing. As if stung by a hornet almost, a complete change of mind. Meeting you at a festival he thought the idea of dating a vampire was „pretty sexy!“. He paraded you around at his birthday party two weeks later, you thinking he was actually proud of you rather than only himself.

You later realized that he just wanted to appear like the bravest guy in the world. To gather his guy friends complimenting him on the ‚spicy catch you got there!“. And maybe, you suspected, also making the female guests compete for him with some one-upmanship towards you. If he needed you to attach any value to himself, what value did he have himself to begin with? It still feels like a bad decision because you said yes to someone like him.

He liked the exterior, but doing the actual dating with all that it entails he had seemingly underestimated. It’s not like you expected him to use any tongue or try a blowjob. Why would you?  Doing that would always be a stupid idea for both. Did he think you would purposely hurt him? Or did he just leech off everything he could get until he had to be responsible and deal with limits? Crazy vamp is what he last called you, and you never heard from him again. No texts, nothing. Does your pussy have monster teeth, too? Just go back to your cave or wherever you came from.

„If you forgive me saying so. They really are pretty,“ Taemin chimes in, then urging Mark to note something down. You take a moment to realize he means your teeth. Mark seems to have a lot of trouble snapping out of his daze at first himself, but begins to immerse himself in sketching and documenting after a while, ruffling his hair like a mad scientist. Lucas regularly gazes over his shoulder and you can tell he’s one grumpy wolf.

„We can show you how to keep them in shape and do a proper bite on someone who agrees on it. But you probably even tried something along the lines, right,“ Taeyong says, and Kai nods, probably wanting to say the same. It seems to be nothing out of the ordinary going by their expressions. But the question makes you more nervous than you actually want to.

„Honestly, I… didn’t bite anyone so far,“ you shake your head, unable to meet the eyes of anyone at the table. You hate the feeling of shame that kicks in almost by itself.

„Come on folks, that’s the first thing you smell about her,“ Yukhei boldly announces from his wandering spot around the dumbbells. 

Way to go. You realize how comments like that are exactly why you’re so nervous. He’s already acting holier-than-thou again.

„I only ordered cheap blood online,“ you try to muster a shrug. Acting indifferent is at least helping you to say literally anything. „All legal but artificial.“

And disgusting, but that’s another story.

„Not hard to tell either,“ Yukhei laughs out. „Takes a blood virgin to down a whole liter of the real deal in five minutes. You were staring at that cup like you’ve gone mad. The difference to cheap blood is quite intense, isn’t it? Wanna see your face if you get a willing neck for the first time. Priceless.“

Something coils up inside of you. Eye daggers aren’t enough at this point, are they.

„Don’t get rude, you dog… Do you like spying on others or what?“

„Come on, come,“ Taemin steps in, ushers Yukhei towards the steel chair.  He leans in, speaking in a low tone to the president. „Little more tact and privacy with a novice. Your dad would thoroughly enjoy this.“

„Would enjoy what?“

„Us creating discord in the club without him having to do crook a single hoof.“

You’re starting to think that ‚Vice President‘ means nothing but ‚group counsellor‘. Fine by you, but Yukhei has been rubbing you the wrong way from the very start. That he tried to attack Taeyong and called him names isn’t something you’ll just ignore. You’re growing increasingly more tense. That there doesn’t appear to be a way to take matters into your own hands is even more frustrating. 

„I think… there’s a reason you’ve been living a more isolated life than most vampires,“ Kai interrupts your thought as well as the ongoing banter, trying to strike a more rational tone. He returned from his thought process, ruffling the long hair at the nape of his neck.

„Okay—?“

„See. Most half-breeds with the same father will find each other. Almost automatically. Look at Taeyong and Lucas. And all vampires will get picked up by clans, their scouts. But in your case… I think you have been purposely avoided. By both clans and demons.“

„What does that mean now?“

„My theory is, I… I suspect. Your father,“ Mark looks up from his clipboard, „is someone who hasn’t exactly been Satan’s ally.“

„My dad is — some kind of, Lucifer’s enemy?“

„Maybe. It’s likely. So, the clans would use to trust your father lot.“

„Does that make any sense?“ you frown at Mark, who hastily continues. You still don’t get why that has something to do with how you grew up completely uninvolved in clan affairs.

„His affinity for vampires was much higher on top of that, unlike Satan.“

„Get to the point!“ Lucas taps his feet on the concrete.

„I, I think that’s why you were born,” Mark carries on, pushing up his glasses. “He got together with a vampire. But he has been mingling with a lot of arch angels as of recently as well. Your father, I mean.“

„Okay? But how would you know?“

„The reasoning is this,“ Mark reads from the clipboard. It seems like he has been working on some kind of theory. „The clans don’t like the archangel’s power nor their politics. And the angels don’t really like us as a club either. Simply because we’re half-demons and have offsprings of Satan among us. I know that’s, that’s really complicated, so—“

Whoever Mark means in all of this word spill, your father is evidently a huge trainwreck already. Who’s against who now? It’s all so hard to understand.

„That all doesn’t sound very good,“ you grumble. „Are you sure your theory holds true, Mark?“

„It all sounds like he’s pulling that out of thin air,“ Lucas says. „Angels and whatnot. That’s some random bullshit.“

The conscierge looks rather overwhelmed with your question and can’t quite get a word out at first. Taemin encourages him with with a little supportive eyebrow raise.

„What I know is. By the signs your… body has. We have to keep you safe here and build your strengths at all cost. Because something’s going on,“ Mark eventually continues, earning strong approval from Kai.

Then, Mark addresses the president, much more fragile in his voice, but still secure in his judgement. „Lucas. If we give her the serum, Satan could someday get her if he musters up the courage and the helpers. Which I think he will. That won’t end well in any scenario. The club is in danger. Do you understand? Putting her out there is a bad idea and she doesn’t want it either. She wants to be a member and that’s instinctively the right thing at this point. Baekhyun happened to spot her now out of all times with good reason, I think.“

Lucas seems to ponder back and forth now. He props down on the steel chair with crossed legs, palms in the back of his neck. He looks genuinely concerned for the first time. You find yourself starting to nod along to Mark in the meantime. You like when he speaks like this. 

„Thank God you’re here then, Y/N,“ Taeyong says. „It’s important you get to know more about yourself. It creates a lot of chaos otherwise. For you the very most, unfortunately. We have to admit that joining the club probably makes it worse. But we can’t know what would have happened if you never found your way here.“

„Yeah, I guess.“

„Your heritage is probably much more… controversial I would say. I hope you don’t take this to heart too much,” he continues. “We’ll still have to find out more. But it’s something else we’re not accustomed to so excuse any crudities.“

You can imagine. If your dad is yet another person having beef with Satan, and there’s even people from heaven involved, things are bound to get icky.

„So, where is my birth mark, then?“, you exhale, voice growing with an acute panic. „Do you know my father’s name or not now? 

“Um...“ Mark stares at his own feet.

“Is all of this a fraud? And what can be more controversial than having Lucifer as your dad?“

Taeyong and Mark are looking at each other far too awkwardly not for you to notice. Kai crosses his arms and sighs out.

„Come on, you two are suspecting something. Tell us.“

All attention is now on Taeyong and Mark who are a puddle of sweating embarrassment.

„We have to… Well…“

You feel like a patient about to receive the most embarrassing surgery. Yukhei roams around the table murmuring and fuming.

„What is it now? What are you avoiding?“

„…pull up the shirt to see the birth symbol,“ Mark spouts in one go. „It’s located in the middle of the chest.“

So here’s the reason for all that tiptoeing and stuttering.

„And I thought you’d need my period blood to paint an ancestry sigil or something,“ you roll your eyes right at Mark who looks like he’s sinking into the ground right before you.

„That’s actually what we wanted to do next,“ Yukhei licks his fangs. 

Taeyong, as if lightning struck him, immediately kicks him in the back of the knees. Everyone turns their heads. Judging by Yukhei’s awkward, reaching step forward and no signs of retaliation, Taeyong has some serious leg strength going despite being so lithe. You never thought you’d see his butlery composure begin to crumble either.

„Stop making weird jokes. You’re a dog just like she said.“

Taeyong’s tone is so cutting, Mark breathes out as if he was the one getting kicked.

„Technically not wrong.“

„You got what I wanted to say, Lucas.“

„Can’t hear you mumbling through your stupid old fangs, brother. I’m fucking proud of being a dog.“

Yukhei does an even more obnoxious werewolf-brand wink that makes even Kai cringe a little. Taemin looks like he’s slowly dying on the inside. 

While they’re all continuing to throw out retorts, you cut the debate short by pulling up your tank top. Must be the courage from getting your teeth praised.

Today’s braless day, but anyways.

Mark immediately starts crouching again, and Kai’s mouth drops wide open. Taeyong collapses right on the floor. Taemin buries his face in his hands.

„It… It is as dramatic as Kai said!“

„What is it now? Can’t you guys handle some breasts or what.“

You look down on yourself. And— soon freeze as you see the large round marking right on your solar plexus. Red as blood and crudely outlined.

„What the fuck is that!“

You get goosebumps. The mark has never been visible before. Whatever work Kai did on your back pressing all sorts of points, it must have activated not only your wings, but also this particular spotting. It appears to be shaped like a medal emblem, depicting a snake and a centaur or whatever creature in bold zigzag shapes.

„The sign of King!“ Mark shudders through his tears. The temperature in the room seems to drop, and the scent of jasmine smells like rotten coal. The sign glows red and large on your chest, and not even Yukhei is looking at your breasts now.

„We’re so fucked, man!“ Kai pulls at his hair. „What are we gonna do!“

„Wait! Wait, what is this!“ you pull at Mark’s suit, urging him to speak on. He can’t properly gather himself the very least.

“I can’t say—”

“Tell me, Mark! What is this sign!“

„Be, Before Lucifer… became the prince of the underworld. It was like this.“

„Like what?“

„There was a King who ruled the 9th circle of hell. For over a million years.“

„Who is that guy? He’s my dad?“

„Yes. He never left. That was, until Satan overthrew him after being cast from heaven. The King purposely decided not to come back and expand his influence elsewhere. He’s now a free-walking spawn of hell. The guy who’s technically… actually the boss. Satan is just tolerated but The King has the actual powers. You can guess… look at how large the mark is.“

„I am the King’s daughter?“

„You are,“ Mark contines. „The daughter of King Belial.“

He can hardly pronounce the name without everybody flinching.

„He’s the original guy in charge,“ Taemin bends to help pick up Taeyong, who’s breaking out in a cold sweat. Whatever is glowing on your chest, it’s something out of the Club’s league and that thought alone drives an equal sweat on your face. Belial, you’ve only heard that name sparsely, somewhere, and you knew hell had kings, but you didn’t know it was a very real tale.

„Satan was expelled from heaven for his pride,“ Kai picks up Mark’s point, but his voice is just as shaky. „So he took on hell and drove out your father after a decade-long war. And, plenty of tricks, dark magic. The King first settled in a radical vampire clan who thought he’d be the ultimate weapon to get back at Satan. And Belial thought he’d had an army now, too. But the arch angels also took interest in the King for that same reason. They wanted to fight Satan, too.“

„Didn’t Mark mention the angels earlier? What’s going on with them?“

„They don’t like vampires, so they lured the King away from the clan to only collaborate only with them.“

„So there’s a triangle going on!“

„Belial hasn’t really retaliated or done anything since then, but we’re thinking that he’s plotting something big together with God,“ Kai continues. „Against anything demonic that they set their eyes on. Not just Satan.“

Your head is spinning. Now God’s involved in this shitshow, too. It just gets worse with every new thing you find out.

„The foe of my enemy is my friend. That type of idiot logic,“ Yukhei says. „And Belial was stupid enough to fuck a trash vampire in the process. And you… are the result that we have to deal with now.“

„As if I can help it! You shut your mouth!“ you jerk up to lash out at Yukhei, but Kai steps in between you. He’s as fast as he is strong, and an impenetrable wall you can run up against all you want. And Kai isn’t foolish, either. He grabs you by the shoulders with extended arms to keep your fangs as far away from him as possible. All Yukhei has to do is step back.

„Stupid— because that got your mom killed,“ Kai says, teeth gritted, but sounding much more sensible than his stance suggests. „You gotta understand. Satan wants to eradicate or silence anyone associated with Belial. To avoid a revenge and losing his position!“

„Then you’re right that he’s a prick…“

„My damn words,“ Yukhei shrugs behind Kai, adjusts his tie. „Now put your tits back and sign Mark’s form, you’re part of Club Daemon without further notice anyways.“

„Wha—“

„Now listen closely madam,“ Yukhei burges past Kai to build himself up above you.

„I’m not gonna say this a second time,“ he throws the blazer at you, and you awkwardly catch it. Kai steps out of the way to let Yukhei step even closer to you. The grit in his eyes is too commanding, untouchable. Mark backs off against a wall, and even Taemin gives up on stopping Lucas. Only Taeyong lingers close behind the president, surveying his every move.

„Since Satan is an illegal worm on the throne and the King prefers to sip ambrosia with God, you happen to be the only legitimate heir. The literal, official ruler of hell. And as we saw, giving you the serum would cause even more trouble. You might even get used against us or yourself. You get me? We have enough trouble and craziness with all this! Do you understand that? From now on: You’re doing exactly as I say.“

„Why are you the one to declare all that now? Yu—“

„No objections. Training starts today.“

————————

„Your wings are so nice,“ Baekhyun smiles, turning twice in his bath tub. The water gently rises, bringing some foam to the corners. If you squint a bit, it actually sparkles. You’re feeling laid-back with the scent of fragrance sticks and candles lingering in the bathroom now. Tangerine, a bit of lemon. A pocket-sized music box strums away on the sink. The melody is foreign to you, but it feels nostalgic and welcoming. There are almost a dozen shell-shaped metal soap holders all around and pointy quartz clusters frame the two mirrors on either side of the room, creating an endless loop of reflections. Yours excluded, which always seems to amuse Ten even if he’s already used to it from Taeyong by now.

A snugly dim lightbulb screwed into a large pink lamp shade right above you spreads some warmth, as does a fluffy carpet underneath you. The vapors of the room become visible as little ascending particles in the light and you wonder how hot the bath water must be. Unlike the chairs in the main hall, the one you currently sit down on cross-legged is meant for comfort solely. A pink and poufy 50s relic, put there specifically for you since it’s Friday.

„Ah…Baekhyun. I forgot you see them for the first time,“ you settle, while he turns again. You find yourself laughing at how cutely Baekhyun spins. That this is the way mermen express their excitement and adoration you learned only last week.

„And, your fangs have grown so big!“ His cheeks are bright and giddy, and his tail glistens from all the soap he tossed around in the water for almost half an hour now.

„I’m on my 50th day of training now.“

„Ooh, that’s so impressive! You’re doing great for sure!“

„I don’t know if I do. But there are some results at least. Kai made me fight Yukhei with bare hands and they came out,“ you wriggle your either wing, and make their tops touch the ceiling. Ever so slightly, you don’t want to break anything around here. Baekhyun’s little bathroom paradise is too carefully assembled to pull any stunts in here, and it’s your Friday night safe haven for long talks and even watching movies on Mark’s tablet. Now, it doesn’t take a lot of stretching to do so in the first place. At this point, wearing your wings out this way is starting to feel natural, even if the way that they shift your balance is still new. They are red-white and stringy, feathery, and spotted just like Kai had predicted.

„He was in his full form, right? You’re really brave you did this.“

„It’s a strange thing sometimes. It’s like I followed an impulse.“ you say, shrugging a little. „I guess — Blame it on instincts.“

You really hoped he would buy that dodge, but it’s a futile try.

„Hey, I mean it. I’m proud of you. Really.“

You push a few hair strands out of your eyes. He’s not going to let you off the hook until you admit it, or maybe it’s only you so fearing to say that, and making it so awkward that he notices.

You don’t want to bare yourself but also don’t want to leave him in the dark about how much his words have been building you up over the last few weeks. It’s almost been two months since you first saw Baekhyun on Mark’s video call, discussing where to relocate the club chronicles after a shelf randomly collapsed. Even a fraction of him on screen made you hold your breath.

Maybe it’s because a whole lot of your ancestors were — although surely snobby and even aristocratic — so bite-first-talk-later and rather reserved folk staying in the shadows that accepting or never doubting flattery is hard for a vampire of your generation. And maybe it’s time you muster up something else than either extreme end of that aristocracy or that terrible shyness.

„Thanks for your compliment,“ you stare at the tips of your fingers that clamp around your knees. „Matters a lot, okay.“

Baekhyun props up his head on the edge of the tub in response and looks at you all blushed. He’s playing with the blue crystal penchant around his neck, and his light purple hair falls into his face in wet little waves until he shakes it. The strands are so thin and plush, they prop up all dry again so fast, as if by magic (which it likely is). His cheeks are so glowing when they’re rosy, you notice every time you see him, but today even more so. To the point where, and you feel it in your gut, your confidence becomes so shaky all over again.

„But don’t praise me too much,“ you say. „It’s only doing what I’m supposed to do and what I’m made up of, I think. It wasn’t that hard.“

„Not as hard as defense against crosses and garlic, isn’t it?“

„Damn right, that was something ese,“ you nod. „But there are much bigger problems.“

„Is there something that preoccupies you as of lately?“

Baekhyun blinks a few times with a falling smile, and you contract in your chair.

„I feel like… It’s so hard to say.“

„I won’t hold anything against you, okay. I just hate seeing you preoccupied night til dawn. That’s not right.“

„It’s…Yukhei is treating me like some kind of tool. Just fostering me because that means a hybrid demon sits on the throne of hell. It feels too much sometimes. Like I have to dance to the beat of his track all the time, you know.“

„I’m sorry. Lucas can be really zealous. I hope he’s not demanding too much from you.“

„Or… training me like a machine. I’m really not a dog’s toy. I don’t think that’s what made my join all this. I don’t have as many problems with my heritage as with the way he takes so much control. It’s… one-sided. And I feel like I should be above that already and just do my thing anyway.“

Baekhyun’s expression sinks even more now, but there’s also something single-minded in it.

„As long as you truly wish to take that position in the 9th circle, you can do as you please,“ he says. „Look at how strong you are. I don’t even have to tell you that. As I know him, Yukhei wants to protect his kind. Including you, that’s why he trains you so hard and wants you to have influence. I know it’s an ironic thing. That you have to be his subordinate now to be his superior in the future. He sees himself as a founding father, so he coaches us. His strict ways are not for everybody.“

„I guess,“ you shrug. It doesn’t sound illogical to you. Having a half-breed in charge of hell would raise the status and safety of Club Daemon immensely, and Yukhei does behave like the club is his child. „I just don’t like it when he uses his position too much without caring about how I want to go about it. I know I’m new to this, but I still have preferences. And the training is for my sake, he’s the one who emphasizes that the most but it feels like it only serves him. Telling him that is like, like— talking against a fucking wall, I don’t know.“

„That doesn’t sound good. I think that you inspired a lot of respect in him. Lucas is afraid of many things.“

„I feel that.“

All too often. When he trains you. At dinner. During any hand-to-hand practice. And especially: On Fridays, where he is tense all day.

„That the pack order is so wired into him doesn’t help. There’s always only superior or subordinate to him, he doesn’t know anything else. The social order of vampires is less defined than that.“

The roles, the hierarchies. You often find Mark talking about it.

„I try to understand it but our ways are so different. I don’t know what it is. Yukhei should know that vampires aren’t responsive to this alpha thing the very best. And I don’t think anyone in Belial’s family for that matter.“

You’ve seriously been wondering how Lucas was donning his big bad wolf attitude. That he was intimidated behind all that jazz would come as no surprise to you. But this type of explanation would be too… simple. Too easy, for all those intricacies, the weirdness of his behavior.

„If you look at it from what he does rather than what he says. He spends a lot of time developing your skills and puts all of his energy into the project,“ Baekhyun’s gaze drops from yours now. „To be honest… I’m jealous of him.“

Now that makes you swallow hard. It implies way too much for you to process right now.

„I don’t, I don’t think he likes me,“ you vehemently shake your head. „Or at least not in a way that feels good to me. And that’s what counts. He’s making me grapple with hell hound holograms and box with Kai until dawn under his supervision. I’d rather be here and discuss with you. It’s really valuable.“

„Ah… thank you.“

Now that you’re on a roll, saying it is easier.

„I’m really glad you were the one who scouted me. I really wish I could be here more often. And, you put a lot of effort into this. You think it’s just talking but it’s important for me.“

The last part you say with a much more subdued tone, but it doesn’t lose its meaning to Baekhyun. That he looks flustered is an understatement. He wriggles his shiny tail and it actually changes its color to light pink, matching his flush.

„You know, it was more of a coincidence. I was counting shells at the beach, I saw you coming out of a pharmacy at the quay. I haven’t told you that, have I?“

Back in May. A very breezy, sunny late afternoon.

„Taemin said something along those lines, but not in detail, no.“

„You had these huge sunglasses on. And so much sun screen. And a big hat. You came out with six packs of iron supplements and cranberry juice in a transparent plastic bag. I couldn’t quite believe it.“

„You really saw it that clearly?“

„Merman eyes can see even in murky water. Kai has trained me to read people at any distance on land.“

„And how did you see that I’m part demon?“

„You had a crop top on.“

What?

„I mean. Come on. That half-vampires like crop tops is clear to me. Taeyong is wearing them all the time. But don’t other people do that as well? Isnt’t that a little—“

Baekhyun starts giggling.

„The sun was hitting your back while you were opening the lock of your bicycle. I could see the wings folded underneath your skin.“

„Oh man,“ you puff out, reclining in your seat. And you thought he was going for a reach. „Okay, I get it. I hope nobody else saw that.“

„It can easily look like some kind of tattoo,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „At least someone who has no idea about demons wouldn’t have realized anything. And it was only visible for a split second since you weren’t standing upright.“

„Okay… that’s good I guess? Just me walking around in a crop top at the bay. Nothing suspicious going on.“

You’re ready to chastize yourself for being so careless, but then again. Arguably, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. And on top of that, it took someone as trained as Baekhyun to discover your sleeping wings showing in a matter of one blink or two.

„It’s likely that your wings only started growing this very year. I really need you to realize. This didn’t happen in twenty years. I was never as fascinated in my entire life, I—“

And by saying that, Baekhyun’s pupils become heart-shaped, and pretty much everything else about him turns bright red. The hair, the tail, the lips.

Oh.

Looks like you’re starting to understand why Baekhyun didn’t just casually mention you to Yukhei to send out an invitation, bar half-breeds being a rare occurance and highly sought for by the club.

„I called Taemin with my shell phone right away so he could inform the club,“ Baekhyun stutters on. „I’m sorry we’ve been observing you that way. Many half-breeds don’t know that they are.“

„You didn’t do it to hurt me,“ you shake your head, gather yourself, and take Baekhyun’s hands in yours. They’re so pretty and slippery. „You don’t have to apologize. It’s been a lucky coincidence.“

He saw you in the right moment and it decided everything.

„I’d not be here without you, that was very needed,“ you add. „Lost and found, you know. I gotta be the one to say thank you.“

Baekhyun firmly squeezes your hands and looks you deeply in the eyes, even more so than before.

„We’re the ones who have to say that,“ he says. „We didn’t have many good prospects before you. Maybe we can have a better chance being half-breeds in the future. Don’t think of yourself as Yukhei’s chess piece. That takes away all your importance. I think he’s trying to tell you that, too.“

„Maybe. But just know that if he’s so invested in me the way you say, I couldn’t reciprocate it.“

You look down, retreat your hands. Baekhyun reaches out of the tub to cup your chin upward very gently.

„This whole werewolf-vampire feud thing,“ he starts in a low tone. „You don’t have to buy into it. It’s not good for our club’s unity.“

You cast down your eyes. „I know.“

„If we fall apart, that makes us very vulnerable to the outside. It’s important that you stick together, and… he really likes you.“

„Baekhyun—“

„You have an easier time with Kai, right. If you approach Yukhei the same way, that… could be beneficial to your bonding.“

„Bonding?“

You don’t like where this is going. All of your alarm bells are going off right now. There’s cold sweat starting to stick to your shirt at the back of your spine.

„It’s kind of an unspoken codex,“ Baekhyun sounds much more understated now, his eyes become droopy. „If there is a female half-demon with claims to the 9th circle, a mate from the guild may accompany her. But it has to be someone from the upper rank.“

„What!“

„Yukhei is the highest in our hierarchy... He might become your consort. He said to me he’d be ready to do it.“

„Yukhei as my mate? How do I know nothing about that!“

The shock in your voice makes Baekhyun rolls up in the bathtub and his tail turns into a lifeless green. You’ve never seen him so small.

„Because… because he can’t say he likes you.“

„I beg your pardon?“

„It’s all bound to happen because of his status, and yours, and— As I said, it’s an unspoken law. It doesn’t really matter if he confesses or not.“

„Are you kidding me now?“ you jump off your chair. Your wings knock over a ceramic vase in the bathroom cupboard right above the sink. It comes down splintering. „Why on earth does Yukhei push me around like some political… genetics… preservation tool!“

„It, it is not the intention—“

„I don’t want to mate with Yukhei! Not because he’s the president, not because I need some fitting husband apparently, not because he spends a lot of time with me, not because of his money or because he cares a lot about preserving half-breeds, and especially not just because he likes me.“

„You— You don’t?“

Baekhyun’s eyes are wider than when Mark first saw your spotted wings, well-knowing he was dealing with a more delicate subject of the chronicles. But this was something that would turn the annals of the club upside down entirely.

„We’re not compatible. Not in the least,“ you frown. „Did you assume I did?“

„Of, of course! I mean in your position, who else would come to your mind? It’s such a given from both of your sides, I didn’t… even think about it. Please, I didn’t want to offend you!“

You settle on your chair again, fold in your wings. Cross your legs, lean back. An overbearing feeling of depletion makes your whole body ache.

„You know. That’s the thing with tradition. Nobody thinks about what they actually want. They just follow a program to satisfy some stupid custom. To soothe their ego, their morals, I don’t know what. But that leads them in the opposite of being satisfied. Because it’s against their real wishes. Doing away with quite a few traditions without causing much damage would be entirely possible, wouldn’t it.“

„I think traditions do serve someone,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „Many people.“

„In this case, only one person. Hint: tall lycan man who wants to fuck me. And take me as a wife which I didn’t even know until now. And how would I if he’s yelling at me about putting away my tits as if I’m some chunk of trash.“

Baekhyun stutters, decoiling not one inch from his position.

„Didn’t he do that in front of others?“

„Yeah, but why are you asking?“

You can’t help but put some sharpness into that reply. All that mating monkey business is reeking of bullshit.

„Lycans are, well you know it. Really possessive. He wants you for himself, he… he’s affected by your body. Everyone can see that. So, everyone automatically thought he’d just, sooner or later make a move on you, you know. You’ll be exclusive to him.“

„You really think that Yukhei is territorial over my fucking tits.“

„On the outside he was acting grumpy that it was a half-vampire coming to us out of all races. But he sent out Taemin with the club invitation letter in a matter of a day. The fastest he ever wanted to get someone to join was when I scouted Ten as our chauffeur. Ten had all the qualifications and he’s half-harpy, they get on with lycans very well, but Yukhei was deliberating for two weeks.“

You shake your head.

„He sent it out because the club direly needs extra manpower, a new element, whatever, that’s why. He literally said so.“

„Yukhei ordered to send out the invitation only when I told him that you’re a good-looking… woman.“

You’re gasping for air. Can this get any worse? This has got to be a bad joke. It sounds like Yukhei literally wants to own you.

„Is he— that desperate?“

„He’d not mate with any full-lycan or half-human half-lycan, or humans altogether,“ Baekhyun shakes his head. „And how could he, he’s the president and protector of the only demon half-breeds club there is. Anything else would be out of character.“

„So me being in need of a mate because of all this heir thing… serves him well and he’s already planned all of it and treats it as a given in the club. All behind my back.“

You could rip out all your hair at this point. You curse him. This dirty, sneaky, cunning wolf guy.

„From his perspective, it makes sense. Nobody else in his shoes would do it differently. He didn’t mate at all yet. We respect that he will take that only chance because he has the last say, you saw that. If a lycan runs a club, we go by lycan ways.“

All you can do is plant your face on the edge of the bath tub and puff out a deflated noise.

„So I’m the only fuckmeat in sight. To get rid off his virginity.“

Oh God, no. This has got to be a terrible dream, even the club’s chronicles pre-1689 aren’t as tragic.

„Yukhei’s instincts are going crazy since he reached maturity. Kai already mated earlier in his life and takes Beta status. I guess that’s why you get along a little better. But with Yukhei… he’s so depraved, he’s even ready to mate with a half-vampire.“

„I saw how hostile he can get with Taeyong…“

It still pains you. That Yukhei would go at him with full fangs and claws even if Taeyong is so severely marred was a punch in the gut. You don’t doubt Taeyong’s strength, and you saw he was ready to defend himself properly and resolutely. But it showed a lot of true colors and you thought about it for many nights.

„Exactly. That he said he’d be your consort tells you how much he needs somebody. He’s even ready to bury the rivalry and also contests anybody of your race. Taeyong is competition to him.“

„Jealous possessive alpha looking for a trophy,“ you bury your face deeper in the enamel of the tub edge. „Baekhyun. I fucking swear. You’re giving me even more reasons not to get with him. He’s even dragging Taeyong into all of this.“ Taeyong, who made you feel so at home and comfortable with being half-vampire. Who was very open with you and had exactly the integrity and dedication and utter class a club member needed to have. A confident, quiet strength and rolemodelship that you could always look up to.

„So talk about unity,“ you grit on. „And I’m only tolerated to Yukhei. If I’d be a guy, he would’ve sent me an invitation after like 5 years, wouldn’t he? Yukhei cares a lot less about halfbreeds than he pretends. How would I get with this guy if he’s such a mess. Never ever.“  

„You actually wouldn’t?“

„Come on! If that’s not clear at this point. No degree of Yukhei wanting me means I want him. Man, what the—! He’s planning my life as if it’s his factory. He’s making chaos out of everything.“

Hell, Yukhei must be more than insecure if he reached that level of entitlement. And you only get to hear it from Baekhyun? He’s not just insecure, but also a coward. Just how much he’s living in his own bubble is hard to fathom.

„But, it’d be an honor for you to be with the president. Is there a reason you don’t like him back?“

„Baekhyun. I don’t give a fuck about his arranged marriage thing. He has no respect. I want someone else.“

„I mean, I… You’re free to choose from the assembly. You’re the Queen of Hell. You can do whatever you want.“

„Apparently not.“

You cock not one, but two brows right at him. Baekhyun seems entirely confused. It’s so strange to you how he doesn’t seem to catch on in the very least. Yukhei really must have threatened the other club members. Nor does he seem to take your role seriously in the very least.

„Is there someone you want to mate with, then?“

„First time someone ever asked.“

You straighten your posture and tap your fingers on your knees. Admittedly, you’ve probably picked that one up from Kai.

„The guild accepts any of your wishes. It’s just a recommendation or a tradition that—“

„Yeah yeah. A dumbass expectation. Disguised as some… guideline. And everyone’s parroting it just because Yukhei is the boss. I don’t like that, okay. I’m not on board with his personal agenda. Because it’s shitty. Full stop. I’ll shove his bonding schtick up his ass until it comes out of his ears.“

„Ah, I, I see. I get it now.“

„Understand, Baekhyun. Rules have to be adapted to the benefit of those they concern. Are we agreeing on that?“

„That’s only logical!“

„So you get that I have someone in mind that I want to have a consort. That person is not Lucas. You see that the benefit would apply here, that, you know, I mate with that other person instead.“

„Sure! Do you need any help with selecting somebody? Wouldn’t Kai be a perfect match? You’re both so strong! Or Taeyong. You have great chemistry! Mark is very impressed by you, too! Haven’t you seen how shy he is?“

You want to sink into the ground on the spot. It just goes on and on. Man, you need a 500-year coffin nap with extra dust and spider webs and no garlic in the radius of ten kilometers.

„Baekhyun, you, you are… God damn…“

You can’t say it. You can’t.

„Always glad to help,“ a bright smile lights up his face once again. His tail turns back to a very familiar turquoise.

And just when he decoils himself to his full size—

It happens.

„Ah! What was that!“

Baekhyun begins to jerk up and winds. You panic. The surface of the bath water colors with red almost right away. He grabs his tail in pain. You dive either hand into the tub to pull up his tail.

„It’s a splinter! It fell inside the tub!“

„From the vase?!“

„Yes, it’s, it’s…“

„Are you okay Y/N? You look different!“

He seems more shocked about that than the fact that he just got pierced.

„It’s…stuck here. I’ll pull this— out and… and. Very carefully, and…“

Your hands work on their own. There’s nothing in your mind that has to direct them. The piece of ceramic is easy to remove from his scales, nor is the cut too severe at all. It’s not even two fingers long. But he’s bleeding. He’s bleeding. It’s unbearable. You mindlessly cast the splinter into the sink and look at your hands, and the water, and his tail.

„Are you really okay? It really doesn’t hurt a lot!“

„Baekhyun,“ you slide forward from your seat and linger at the edge of the tub, facing him. „I can’t take this shit anymore. Please.“

„Oh my god. Your eyes are going red! Should I call for Taeyong? You’re looking really sick!“

„Don’t you understand. How, how are you not seeing it,“ you clutch at the bath curtain, dizzied, and it’s like you’re seeing double. Baekhyun tries to keep you upright in his arms that wrap tightly around you. But your head has lost all its stability, tipping way forward. You’re face-to-face, forehead-to-forehead with him now, a frantic, salivating mess. Your lips feel so swollen and pulsing, it’s hard to keep them pressed together at all.

„I’m… I’m not sick. I’m not. Hush— Listen to me now, Baekhyun. I don’t want anyone else’s blood. You’re the one I wanna mate with. I want yours. And not just a little bit of it.“

Open mouths. You gape at him, he stares right back. You’re already expecting him to call for Kai to drag you into the serum room. So much about Club Daemon.

To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he begins to blink like he just heard the most incredulous news, pulling away from the embrace. He looks at you in earnesty.

„Why didn’t you just say that right away?“

Baekhyun turns the brightest shade of pink all over yet. „I never thought you’d like me back this way.“

„Really?“

„Of course…“

„God,“ you laugh, „oh God.“

„And who said you can’t drink all you want from me? That’s literally what I was gonna offer—“

You are already shoulder deep leaning into the water with your arms grabbing hold of his tail. Some of the water even gets into your nose and it’s terribly soapy from Baekyun’s shampoo, but saturated with enough blood to knock a tidal wave of adrenaline right through your system.

This is the freshest and warmest you’ve ever had it. It’s feeling like a shark in the water. The lithe red clouds wavering through the tub loosely clinging to your face and lips makes you go weak in the legs. It tastes sweet like actual candy. And it’s so, so… familiar. Being surrounded by all that cherry pink water is better than a coffin nap and no garlic pizza combined. This is way too good. You can be glad your air is running out and the wound begins to close behind scales getting back into order.

„Wow! You can hold your breath for a long time,“ Baekhyun gasps when you surface.

„I didn’t,“ you cough, and take two minutes to gather yourself.  But not exactly because of that much water getting inside of you. Rather, the blood is showing its very effect already. „The wound should be fine, um,“ is all you can say, but Baekhyun only smiles in reply.

„Oh? You don’t look full in the very least.“ he swipes his hands over his wet neck and pats it. „Try it here!“

Oh please no, not the patting and the slapping. It brings all the best veins out, oh fucking no. But he continues to do just that. At this rate—

„Can’t guarantee I’m not getting really horny.“

„Huh? If you’re not I’d be worried. Didn’t you say you want to mate with me?“

„Well… yes.“

„I’m just really honored, I need a little moment.“

„You don’t have a problem with me just… vandalizing your neck?“

„Isn’t that what it’s for? It doesn’t suck itself.“

Baekhyun, with the most innocent little expression, continues just as before kneading into the sides of his neck. His long… tan, glistening piece of art neck. You probably look like a starving wet poodle preying for a bone, and then there’s him in the tub, sparkling like a water god with his beautiful cherry hair and droopy brown eyes.

With every smack on the side of his neck, your pants squarely decide to get a little more soaked. Maybe because it sounds like you’re already fucking. Maybe because his neck is bursting with everything a girl needs. It doesn’t suck itself, huh. And your canines are in best shape because you floss them twice a day just like Taeyong said. Uh oh.

„I’m so sorry I… I think I’ll tear you up.“ Why does it have to be so long and throbbing. His smell is turning your brain inside out and back again. „God Baekhyun, you’re tormenting me.“

„Hey, not fair! That’s your job,“ he’s pouting again, and probably begins to realize he’s been doing more prep than most porn stars nowadays because the kneading stops. Without much further ado, Baekhyun squarely beckons you to climb into the tub.

„Are you really ready—“

„Don’t worry, Taemin is great at cleaning the tiles. He actually loves doing that.“

„I want to make this enjoyable to you, Baekhyun, so…“

„I don’t know, you don’t have to please me or anything,“ he shakes his head. „That you like me is already overwhelming enough.“

„A bite is serious business. I still want you to enjoy it like I do.“

„If you want that. Just, just do it harder,“ Baekhyun wriggles himself up, pinker than ever. „If we’re doing it unprotected… I want this properly.“

Finished off with a shy smile. This guy is making you go times more nuts than the first raw blood you had in that chalice. You start to understand what Mark really meant by recently mentioning how Baekhyun’s parents gave him „A certain inclination“. A well nymph and Asmodeus, demon of lust, combining? That could not possibly create anything less than somebody so enticing.

„Baekhyun, always tell me if I should stop, I, I try to rein myself in, okay. You’re too delicious…“

„My veins stop swelling, just bite already,“ he sways his tail, keeps on rubbing into in throat again with his flat palm. „Just don’t worry. You’d have a hard time draining me. You saw my body just heals itself fast.“

„Yeah. Merman thing. Mark said that.“

„You can also fuck me if you want to.“

„Baekhyun, you really don’t have to offer yourself just because my body is going crazy.“

„But I’d really enjoy it. How aroused are you?“

„In all honesty… Bram Stoker novels level horny.“

„I’m not gonna leave you like that.“

And something in his tone tells you that Baekhyun has it all figured out.

As much as your wobbly legs permit it, you get into the tub more or less elegantly. You already want to apologize for mounting him that way, but Baekhyun squarely sits you down on his crotch with his hands on your waist. That his wrist and knuckle veins have gotten the word does not go unmissed by your tunnel vision. All those pulsing underarm serpentines… leading your gaze upwards, and more, and more. Up, up, until you cannot rip your gaze from his puffy little throat. Baekhyun lets out a content little hum and lifts his chin. You really get the full damn view.

„Sorry teeth, I’ll devirginize you. No more blood oranges,“ you babble to yourself, and you can tell your brain just switched off all inhibition. You never thought you’d be slurring your words about what types of emergency fleshlights you use, all in a bath tub with a merman. „About time I pop my cherry boy.“

„Exactly right,“ Baekhyun proudly huffs, and leans back. With his Adam’s apple bulging out his throat even more, you lose all trains of thought and just grab him by either side of his head. You sink your teeth in as far as the power in your jaw can drive them, and going by how his pulse is beating inside your ears, you drilled them in pretty damn hard. Oh fuck. Beginner’s mistake. A huge gush comes out to spritz against the back of your own throat, and you almost pass out from the incredibleness of the taste.

It’s too much at once. You’re hanging by a mere thread. All your body does is follow whatever its instinct dictates. Grabbing Baekhyun by his hair is all you can keep track of, shoving your teeth right up his throat again all dissipates in a blur because your entire mouth is dripping full with him. He’s moaning so loud right now, his neck vibrates along.

„Yes…!“

You don’t want to be a weakling. And, get yourself to swallow for the first time — but then. regret it right away. His blood melting down your esophagus is like a liquid marriage proposal on the Eiffel tower. You don’t know where the noise comes from, but the birds are singing. Once it’s down your stomach and pooling there, you’re already high as fuck. Grinding erraticly all over Baekhyun’s more than steel hard boner that parts upward through the scales of his crotch. He’s really giving you all the best things.

You bury your whole face in his neck. No more neatness. All you do is let your tongue loose and drag your mouth all over his face, and his chin, and his lips, and his jaw, and all of his neck. Every angle, every side, every nook and cranny until your mouth is bursting full with all of his sweet-tasting sweat and pinkish blood that has thinned out with the water dripping from his gills. If it wasn’t diluted, you’d probably forget your own name.

You melt your teeth into his pulsing skin. A vibrant image opens before your inner eye. You’re getting visions of the beach and you as seen through Baekhyun’s eyes. And then— Baekhyun from an outside perspective, swirling through the water the moment after he saw you walk at the quay for the first time. Singing so beautifully, your ears are ringing and you never want to hear anything else.

His blood is all over your lips and chest, your training print shirt. You admit you’re tempted not to ever wash that thing even if Taemin politely asks you to or Yukhei calls it crazy. You want it to be as sullied as a white shirt can possibly get. What must be your eleventh bite in a row gives you a particularly big shot right to the tongue. It’s so much, Baekhyun’s blood starts running out of your nose, only to get back onto your lips that suck up all that candy right away all over again.

Being all drenched in Baekhyun’s nicely bloodied wonder shampoo water and your own horny leaking shit at the same time, your pussy is double wet and way, way too ready to get stuffed up with all that merman dick. You never thought that he would be any larger than your thumb, but you’re mistaken.

„No wonder Yukhei has been keeping you outside the club so often.“

„You can have it as often as you want, eight times a day, I’ll manage to be there, don’t worry.“

It’s so stiff and glides into you so easily, you groan out loud and loose a whole portion of blood from all that open mouth. It sprinkles over Baekhyun’s little nose and lips, and makes his way down to his belly. The scent is turning your brain upside down. You find yourself hooked on his nose, sucking and licking it with your pussy reaching the meaty base of what’s all the way inside you now. All the precum he’s leaking into you is taking its time, but comes down to cream you up when he starts moving. Really smudgy thrusts from below, several big fat fillings from above that you can have your fun gargling on the back of your tongue. Baekhyun knows what makes you happy. You squeeze every bit your can get out of his throat and plunge your teeth inside of him far enough to feel his vocal chords vibrating during his moans. You don’t wanna damage those. So you decide to switch things around a little and slip off his cock. It’s grown a lot inside of you and peaks out the water still brimming. The whole tub gets a taste of soapy foam mixed with Baekhyuns semen and lord knows how much delicious red cherry juice that you’ve been milking out of him. Oh god, you feel like cumming. You turn Baekhyun underneath you so the back of his head comes to face you, and you bow down to violently bury and seesaw your teeth in his nape like a lion shaking a little prey animal. His little helpless moans are so melodic and out of this world, you do notice you forgot your own name. Well, he can tell you afterwards so, no problem. For now, you made him completely yours. You don’t miss how Baekhyun didn’t reach down to get himself a hand but has grown even harder.

Going by how much he’s been begging you to do your carnage on him, and you’re tempted to ask him, you know for a fact Baekhyun would probably fanboy like mad and ooze his cum all over the place if you broke his neck altogether, but you decide that’s probably way too edgy for now. And too much, hello. His body can heal anything in a matter of five minutes, doesn’t mean you have to challenge it with a clean snap during the first time. That’s a schtick for the later fucks, maybe a birthday. Just when you find that what you’re doing with his little nape all between your jaws is way too sick for a novice, a string of tiny „please, please, please!“ noises spurs you to sink in deeper and even work your tongue just like it’s a french kiss.

„Oh woah, ah! Do it, do it more!“ His pleasure screames and demands for roughing him up leave no second for a pause. At this point, you’re just digging in and he’s all the way close to going off like a bomb. Taemin doesn’t just have to clean the tiles alone, there’s gonna be sperm everywhere. Probably even as far as the door, and that one’s all opposite to the bath tub and four meters away.

Now that you’re so snugly penetrating with your fangs pierced in around his spine from either side, you notice how Baekhyun has successfully corrupted you into a sadistic freak. The more blood seeps into your mouth, the lewder your slurping gets, and the tub water has long gone from pink to very crimson like it’s the type of apples Taeyong loves to test his fangs on pretty much daily just for practice. You swallow again, and this time, a wave of Baekhyun’s sexual fantasies crashes down on you.

Looks like since you’re closer to his central nervous system, you’re tapping his entire stream of thoughts. However this works, it’s giving your pussy severe missing-cock-disease. Drinking and swallowing repeatedly makes the visions even more vivid. The images are so vast and animated, you can hardly keep up. His face, buried between your thighs. His tongue, dragged all over your legs. You riding his tail like it’s thighs. A big gush of semen between your breasts. You slobbering blood all over his cock and making good use of its protruding veins. Images of you cumming and screaming his name. Baekhyun screaming even louder because he can. Baekhyun sucking his fingers and you licking his wrists clean. Baekhyun cumming inside you and everything bursting right out because holy shit, that’s a lot.

You want his dick and properly connect to his lips for the first time now, so you ease your teeth out of his nape, much to his protesting. You cave in and give him another bite, and make it brutal so he begins squeaking and gasping that he’ll cum. Now that you have him there, you can venture a second try and turn him around. Because you’re afraid of blowing up the second you sit on his cock again, so you start with his lips.

Kissing Baekhyun is all you expected and even more than that. Even if you’re so saturated with his blood that your taste buds are on fire, you can still clearly taste how sweet he is. Everything about him is so delicious and he’s so cute. All that pleasant taste and the gentleness of his tongue has you riding up and down his cock in less than a minute. Busy like a New York high rise elevator. Gentleman he is, Baekhyun retorting with his own thrusts feels nothing short of whipped cream consistency fucked into you with a headspin-inducing mega girth. Where he mustered that one from, only Neptune knows.

Since the entire water is ripe with his blood, that can’t go without pumping some of it into you. You’ve never found yourself horny all over your period even if the scent does make you tingle, but now, somebody else’s blood squeezed into you? Your legs feel like doing somersaults. You’re probably asking for too much, but you hope your walls soak it all up, his pre-cum included. Hell, if all that mixture shoots up in your womb, you’d probably be on a permanent high for one week. Who would have thought. This giggly little merman has turned you mad and lawless.

It doesn’t take for very long that Baekhyun’s tongue has been wrecking a havoc of pleasure between your fangs and has started bleeding after deliberately giving himself a small little prick with them, you want to get bursting full with his cum now, you can’t wait any longer. You lost your breath so it takes a few seconds until you can verbalize it, but when you do, Baekhyun doesn’t take even half a minute to have you pussy bubbling with a particularly scented load of deliciously fertile semen.

It’s such a huge amount, you have to hold onto his upper arms. Baekhyun breathes like he’s curently swimming a marathon, and has his eyes closed to concentrate on giving you the best to the best. What makes you moan is just how wildly his cock is throbbing and pumping against your cervix, that girl has never seen an avalanche of white stuff like this, she’s so lucky she gets to see this up close. Baekhyun has sunken so deep into his orgasm, he’s starting to mumble some kinds of magic words. Which seem to be directed at keeping his dick hard and keeping the cum flowing just like that.

„Shit, I want that in my mouth,“ you promptly decide, and pull your all-loaded pussy off, causing leakage all over the water. You turn to prop his cock between your lips, and Baekhyun makes it no secret that he won’t hesitate sucking his creampie right out of you. So while you’re busy sliding your tongue up and down all that veiny shaft, Baekhyun glides his nose and chin between your slippery pussy lips. The stimulation of his tongue has you twitching and stuffing his cock even deeper until your mouth is nothing but filled except a few remaining spots.

His cum is all fizzy in your mouth, it’s the most addictive thing. You decide that all that vanilla ice cream needs a juicy strawberry sauce to top it off. You do exactly what Baekhyun’s steamy fantasies displayed to you. That you lock your horny fangs deep inside of Baekhyun’s cock and squeeze him out by the liter for sperm and cherry milk is already having your eye lids flutter because you’re that stoned. Not to mention that you will smell like candy to the lycans and certainly also Taeyong for at least a whole month.

You’re the farmer, he’s the maple tree, and Baekhyun’s blood the runny, sugary syrup. The mix with his semen tastes like you bite right into a large fresh lemon and melon popsicle. and swallowing comes easy once you got into the rhythm of his continuous little bursts. Your stomach is telling you oh babe, I adore you for this. It’s stuffing full a) with the one thing is needs and b) the other thing it loves. All while Baekhyun’s bloody tongue is having a party on your clit and you can’t help but heavily rock your pussy all slapping up against his face.

The friction is unbearable, it makes you sopping wet on top of already being shot up with a ton of cream. Which now faithfully drops right into Baekhyun’s awaiting mouth and his nostrils along the way. He just snorts it up, gathers it on his tongue, then swallows it down like it’s a mild cold. The noise is so disgusting, it’s so sexy. You didn’t know mermen were this hardcore. You bet your fangs Yukhei can’t do that.

Baekhyun keeps on slurping on your creampie like it’s a desert pudding, and puckers his brazen lips to suck your clit between giving it little kisses and licks. The point where you forgot not just your name but your hometown and birth day is already passed, with Baekhyun indulging your pussy like that, you even forgot about planet earth being a thing.  His petite „Aw pretty“ and „So tasty“ noises have you clenching up and wildy deepthroating whatever impossible length of his dick is still left.

It’s oozing out too much to deal with at this point, so you just let it flow into the bath water. Your mouth being so slobbery, Baekhyun’s cock pulsing in and out of it causes a wet, hollow noise. It’s strangely satisfying and dirty to hear, you just love it. The blood seeping into your mouth makes you spiral even deeper and resorting to drift off into a wonderworld again, blowing big pink cum bubbles while you’re dreaming of Baekhyun in a groom suit out of nowhere.

Swimming at the edge of a pool, he’s stroking your hair and admiring your skin that seems so completely without any veins. Cut to Baekhyun standing in the kitchen with an apron making pancakes, drizzled with what can’t possibly just normal strawberry sauce. He perfectly balances himself on his tail to stand upright, and you’re wearing a Christmas sweater signed by Christopher Lee and Bela Lugosi.

Image three, Baekhyun massaging your feet with his pretty hands while you watch Nosferatu Reloaded on television. He whispers sweet nothings but they mean everything to you. Image four, a big house with a nice water system inside, and on top of that, a really shapely coffin that smells so dusty and snugly by just looking at it, you’re enamored with no return. Oh my god, there’s a moth plague in that house, too, and the garden grows nightshade!

Swallowing the remaining semen, thick and marshmallow-y as it so savoringly is, you shift back to your senses. Shit, that was a ride. You have a hard time letting go of his cock, but he’s not sustaining it with a spell at this point. Rather, it closes back behind his scales. Probably regenerating, you sucked and performated the shit out of it. Preoccupied, Baekhyun is still busier than ever making your pussy his personal oozing face grave, he’s particularly enjoying the digging part with the tongue. You promise to unearth him once he’s zombiefied, can’t let the poor tiny merguy just drown in there.

To think that he could do all the things you saw makes you furiously thrust back and hear his face smack into you. All of the cum he pumped into you is slathered all over his mouth and makes it all the easier to get all the clit stimulation you want from his bottom lip in particular. That he catches a hang of it and moves right along doesn’t help with your arousal. Your entire lower body is so heated and bustling, any south-Texan bat cave is a joke compared to that.

You hardly catch a direct glimpse of what’s going on, but from the reflection in the tiles you can see that Baekhyun’s hair has changed its color to how it naturally grew according to Mark’s seemingly random chronicle recital on Monday. Baekhyun only ever does it when he’s really serious about something and vulnerable enough. You can tell be picked up the pace and makes sure not one lick will miss.

With that level of determination, Baekhyun is sure to earn your moans and shaky thighs after a mere minute or two. You think that because he’s part demon, his tongue is… a bit longer and pointier and stronger than the average merman’s. It’s simply how the genes tend to mix and your clit very well feels that. The way he’s driving in the tip of the tongue in rapid sequences that resemble Ten’s piano suites, you’re tipped over the edge hard enough to grab at his tail not to slip from the massive tremble that rocks you.

Your orgasm rolls your eyes back to places even ghouls could dream of, and the amount of pleasure is so strong that your hearing and vision sets out for a solid ten seconds. You just scream and moan and scream again, and Baekhyun’s face gets one massive cum shower all over again. He’s not shy to move his mouth and head around like a madman, so your cum ends up being stuck in his hair altogether. Through even more frantic sucking and kissing, he seeks to prolong your high for another fifteen seconds of blissed out grinding against his face. You drank so much blood, you

By now, your face must look so blown up with all that cum and Baekhyun marked up so relentlessly, even if his bite marks have closed by now, Kai must think you switched roles going by your scents.

„Really sorry for my big cock.“

„Your blood… does it cause random hallucinations or something of that sort, can you direct it in any way?“

„It causes prophetic visions in some cases, if you experience it clearly as an image it will come true. Did you see something?“

„Um. Lots of things. Let’s say I… liked what I saw.“

„Actually, don’t tell me. I like being surprised.“

„Doesn’t it take 50 years until the egg fertilizes?“

„47, 48 is usual. Mermen cum is really slow but it’ll get there.“

„Nice. Isn’t the firstborn always a girl?“

„Yep.“

„We’ll name her after the song that’s always on the human radio, what is it again. Janine?“

„Jolene I’m thinking. I think it was that kind of song.“

„Yeah, I like that. And in the meanwhile we have some time, do we.“

„We can just go on like that. What are you thinking?“

„Shit, shit. I’ll suck you dry, Baekhyun, you don’t even know.“

„My blood regenerates the fastest among all half-species. Shouldn’t be a problem.“

„And what will we do about Yukhei’s mating drive?“

„Don’t worry. He’ll smell it.“

You pull the bathtub plug with a heavy heart and begin washing Baekhyun down. The blood doesn’t seem to stick to him very easily, which is as unsurprising as you not getting it off your own body. Even with his whatever pricey merguy body scrub thingy thing that’s normally used to keep gills and scales in shape. Resorting to staying bloodied for the day is nothing you’ll particularly hate, though.

Ten minutes later, you find a very unsettled Yukhei standing at the window of your designated club office, not able to meet your eyes for more than a second. In that expensive black tux, and you… in your bathing robe with blood all over your hair, and just a pair of Baekhyun’s sparkling light blue and silver ‚i ♡ dolphins‘ socks he borrowed you. He can’t wear them anyway, but they were so cute that he ordered them online.

Very much naked underneath all that, and water running down your legs in drops, alongside— something that does not feel like water. You already plan to hop right back into the shower and do the rest of the cleaning. The sex is great, but vampire hygiene is a pain in the ass sometimes. The scent must be killing him. You don’t even have to sit down for the word spill to start.

„Y/N.“

„I told you I don’t like you sneaking in here.“

„After working out. And, you know my senses are always heightened after this…“

„What is it now, hellboy. Just cut to the chase.“

„Please let me talk for a minute. I came walking by in the northern corridor,“ he starts out low once again. „You talked about your wings sprouting and you were being open with him. So—“

„You listened to us!“

He keeps his lips tight, not granting any reply.

„Piece of shit, you! You’re an all-round asshole.“

The water contained in a silver jug on the office table goes right over Yukhei’s head. He doesn’t react, lets you poor it all over him stoically. You hope it’s particularly cold. Since the water is silver-infused, it stings him, but he takes it.

„I can’t switch my nose and ears off, even at such a distance. It… it just reeks, alright. I just heard what was going on without intending. The talk, the— I didn’t know what it would develop into.“

„From start to finish. Am I right?,“ you dig your nails into your palms. „And you didn’t just walk off like you fucking should. So stop blaming your ears or what topics we started out with or whatever! You talk about mating behind my back, you eavesdrop, you invade my office just like this. Do you think that’s gonna make me marry you on the spot?“

All the magical afterglow — ruined. You cast the jug into a random corner and prop down at your desk. Yukhei wipes the wet bangs out of his face and turns from the window to face you now.

„I’ll stop with all this. Okay. I don’t want to treat you like a crusade machine against my dad or just to satisfy me. I’m sorry if I’m like you said. I’m just a stupid voyeur. I really didn’t want to.“

Yeah. Of course.

„If I spied on you? You’d be kicking me out in a hearbeat,“ you cross your arms and leave them in deadlock. „And what, you’ll stop what?“

„Training you for your position and fighting dad’s army.“

„Eh.“

„I know very well that’s Kai’s job and mine.“

„No shit, Yukhei.“

„And that we should defend more and not just plan the attack. You don’t enjoy the training as much as the normal recruit. You said you’d rather be talking with Baekhyun and that you chose him as a mate.“

„You’ll change your program?“

„A lycan will respect a no. We’re determined but not a creep. And my nose works perfectly fine.“

„What?“

„I’ll be realistic, I don’t think I could satisfy you like him.“

Now that sounds very different from all he’s ever said. You turn your chair toward him and stare Yukhei down.

„I’m listening.“

„I’m not stupid, okay.“

„Inaccurate, but go on.“

„You’d… bite me once and either I bleed out if I control myself or go wolf when I don’t. That’s lose-lose.“

„So you got that all of a sudden,“ you murmur. Yukhei just keeps on talking. It’s almost a prepared monologue.

„I’m a wolf, okay. I only get it when I smell it.“

„That’s some weird shit but fair enough, Mark says that too.“

„You smell like you had almost nine liters in one go. The whole fucking mansion feels like a butchery just opened. How many times did you bite him, fifty, sixty?“

„As if I’m counting. Do you count down when you drink water? You have it easy, you’re normal when you’re not in the moonlight. I’m vampire all the time.“

„What I try to say is. I don’t boast that much regenerating ability even if I wish I had.“

„And you realize that only now.“

„I came here to be honest. I gravely underestimated Baekhyun. You bit his nape and he really enjoyed it.“

„Well thanks for the information. About my private business…“

Yukhei’s senses must be really sharp to discern all of this. He might have stood in the bathroom in person. And if he knows it, Kai does tenfold if he was anywhere near the house. His senses are time-tested and four times as trained.

„I know that doing a bite like that is a big deal in half-breed… couples.“

„You’d find that inacceptable for me to do on you, wouldn’t you.“

Silence again. You tap your feet. Yukhei ends up nodding.

„To the extrent of how you reacted when I grabbed you by the hair. We’re not much different. Trying to make someone ours. Call me possessive but you’re also territorial. You didn’t just bite his neck tonight.“

„You understand why I said we’re not compatible. then.“

Yukhei remains silent for a while after that.

„The tension between our kinds has a reason.“

„No way. Never thought of that. Totally groundbreaking news.“

„We’d probably kill each other when we fuck. Simply because of what we naturally do. We’re suited for other species. Baekhyun matches you very well with his abilities. I admit that even if it hurts my pride.“

„One man’s trash another man’s pleasure.“

„You’re not trash. You know you’re my MVP here. And Baekhyun is going to please you well himself. He’s not as selfish as I am. He’s 290 years old, he’s very experienced.“

„Your instincts are really dying for a mate, don’t they.“

„Just like you deflate to a literal zombie when you’re not drinking, I can’t go without my pack hierarchy being complete. You go stupid when you sense blood, I go stupid when my senses aren’t challenged and I have to suppress my form. It’s that easy.“

„Now tell me something I don’t know.“

You comb your fingers through your hair. It’s kind of comforting right now. Yukhei comes to sit at your desk now himself, opposite to you.

„I should have left you to your own devices when you picked your spot at the fire place already.“

„What do you mean?“

„We left you seven empty places, right.“

„So that was not a coincidence.“

„We spiked each cup with a blood probe of each member. Enough to emenate a scent, but small enough not to have you figure out which cup belongs to whom. Especially not in a room with so many people was it possible to tell that apart so it worked.“

And of course they put up flowers to further confuse you. It was all planned.

„Did you… you…“

„It was a test. I made it so that if was covert enough and fair to everyone.“

„Fair? What the hell did you do with me!“

„Find out whose blood you like the very most. It was my idea. I wanted to see if I have a chance with you or not.“

„That’s insidious.“

„You picked Baekhyun’s probe right away. And you even drank a second cup. That should’ve answered my question by that point.“

That’s why the blood in the cup was so strangely shimmery. You knew that was familiar when you slept with Baekhyun, but couldn’t connect the dots entirely because there was so much soap in the water.

„And you still kept on talking about mating with me?“

„I didn’t know about your heritage before you came to us.“

„So?“

„That gave me a second chance that I hoped you would reconsider. Because it’s tradition tha—“

You smack Yukhei right across the face with your right backhand.

„Never say that word again.“

„And you said you’re here to tell the truth anyway. It’s a shallow excuse to get with me.“

„I’m not denying that, Y/N.“

„It’s been clear to you who I like since our first words. You’re acting like you can bend me to your wishes. You tested me and knew I wasn’t into you. Why?“

„It’s like when you couldn’t take your eyes off your cup. We’re not far apart with our instincts.

„I never said that’s a lie, Yukhei.“

„You can’t expect me not to get the hots if you’re lying there on the table without your top on. And I already controlled myself. I did my best, alright.“

This man is infuriating. You wish you had more silver water to splash him with.

„Taemin was right, Taeyong should’ve done the examination. Touching me fucked with your virgin head. You’re just hunting some one-sided dream looking for some omega girl that fits into your ideology thing.“

„Well you’re right.“

„Unfortunate.“

„But at the same time at least acknowledge that I realized we wouldn’t fit together. I changed my mind about that prospect okay, I’m trying.“

„That you’d make the worst blood bank ever is already clear.“

„I really wouldn’t.“

„Just know that the next time you’re trying to own me or do your wolf stalking shit. Or try to mess with Baekhyun. I’ll be skinning your hairy back with Taeyong’s 17th-century silver dagger and use you as a mud boots doormat.“

„I’ll control my senses as good as I can.“

„Leave away the last part of the sentence.“

„I’ll control my senses.“

„Ma’am.“

„I’ll control my senses, Ma’am.“

„You’re one desperate little shit. Club president and you need to be trained like a rowdy dog. How old are you again?“

„Last time I checked, 21.“

„Not surprised Kai still calls you a puppy and Ten thinks you’re a giant baby.“

„I say, found your own club if you can’t handle it.“

„That would put it back to square one. The only problem is you being horny for the wrong person, the rest are only consequences.“

„As if I can control what my nose tells me. And you know that the very best.“

„You’re still mad your own test backfired,“ you remember the cups put up in the fireplace room.

„Is it wrong wishing you would’ve chosen my blood?“

„Yes, after I clearly made my pick.“

„Then that’s that.“

„That’s that.“

„So what are we gonna do?“

„You cut your wolfy shit, that’s all. It’s creepy. And don’t annoy Taeyong either. You got me? Just stay in your own lane.“

„If I can.“

„Are you the president or are you not?“

„Fair enough.“

Taeyong rings a bell, and you gather for some tea under the backyard Wisteria. Shrimps are served, and Taeyong even bothered to prepare a minestrone that’s wonderfully dark red. Lucas savagely chews on raw chicken wings, Ten relaxes in a hammock, Mark writes, Taemin knits, and Baekhyun plays in the nearby pool, watching and listening and chatting, upbeat as always.

Kai arrives the very last in his post-jog showering robe, but greets you the very loudest in front of everyone.

„Hey, hey! I heard you waterboarded yourself to get some soapy red juice!“

Some confusion at his word choice, some giggles.

„So that’s been making the roun—“

„Amazing! That’s my girl,“ Kai burst out and pats you on the back so passionately, it feels like a freight train hits you.

„O—okay?“

„That greed is all I ever wanted to bring out in training! Where was that determination when we peeled garlic? I tried every method in the book to get you to that point!“

Awkward silence among the members. Then, some shrugs. Mark seems to be the only one who doesn’t get it. Figures, half-goblins don’t have hyper-developed senses. Thank God, his innocent soul. The club chronicles would be filled with details of you doing all sorts of things in a bath tub because Mark never leaves out anything unless he’s currently dropping a pen out of nervousness. Which doesn’t happen anymore.

„Kai, um… I still don’t think you understand what really motivates a vampire,“ Taeyong scratches his head, with you well-aware that he can smell merman blood across the entire house without even trying himself.

„So, what is it, then?“ Kai puffs himself up, arms crossed. „I’m the fucking trainer of how many species again? I should know best!“

It doesn’t take two seconds for a heated discussion to break out. The Venerable Pyramid of Essential Vampire Needs — which author defined it the most accurately? Which peer-reviewed vampire journals are trustworthy? Which interviewed populace is the most reflective of all vampirekind? Serbia, Romania, Turkey, Russia, Greece, overseas?

Everybody wants to weigh in: Taeyong and Mark at the forefront, with Kai and Lucas saying the exact opposite of what they expertly claim just because. Ten starts trolling them with made-up facts („a vampire’s #1 need is premium cellar dust!“), Taemin unsuccessfully tries to calm everybody down with a theory that considers all perspectives, and the tea gets colder and colder.

In the meantime, you squat down at the pool and muse over Baekhyun’s hair in the wind. You twirl it and tell him he’s gorgeous. He whispers just how good you smell. Why debate about essential vampire needs when it’s all right before your eyes.

Thinking about it. It was all about which relationship was mutual. That’s what the decision had been all about, and yes, it had been crystal clear from the very start. Lucas desperately wanted you, but it was one-sided. Mark was flustered by you, but didn’t make a move, nor did you have feelings for him. Taeyong you loved, but his age and mentor status were incompatible with turning it into a relationship. You understood him, but it was motivated by an admiration — there was a pedestal, which again made it one-sided. Ten was a mystery, it wasn’t clear on either part, and leaving each other guessing was no good sign instead of going about your ways. Kai was a compelling man, but had his piece of cake and aspired to different things. Baekhyun — he loves you and you love him.

A powerful engine revvs in the nearby garage, then, the motor stops. Onto the Wisteria jogs Ten with a huge bag of groceries.

„Hello, hello!“

Everybody greets him and picks their favorite snack from his bag. He really thought of everything. Yukhei and Jongin get a huge pile of meat from the car trunk’s cooling box. As a crowning finale, Ten presents you with the latest newpaper. The front page splayed out on the Wisteria’s main table causes everyone to steer and gasp.

SHOCKING!

SATAN’S HEAVENLY RETURN

Ruling hell too stressful after all?

„Rumor has it the King finally got bored of chatting with God and kicked out Satan from the 9th circle without much further ado.“

„No way!“ you toss and turn the newspaper. Five whopping pages are filled with cover story details.

„So dear horned guy went back to where he came from,“ Ten shrugs, then points at the snapshots all over the newspaper. „I mean look at it. This is all just a big ole jealousy drama.“

Who knows God talked some sense into Lucifer.

„I know that dad was getting envious about the King associating with the arch angels,“ Yukhei says. You start to get why. Satan had the privileges of being an archangel for who knows how long until he reached puberty and rebelled or whatever.

„Doesn’t that mean dad has the throne back now?“ you ask.

„Yup,“ Ten turns to page three, where @king_beli’s instagram feed is filled with selfies of the 9th circle, posing with Sisyphus, and throwing peace signs in a sulphurous-looking throne hall. 666,000 likes after just 6 hours. If that’s not a good sign.

You keep on debating how exactly Satan got kicked out so effortlessly until Taeyong rolls in a little swirly metal wagon after the tea is finished. On top of it: An almost ancient relic that Alexander Graham Bell probably built himself.

„Sir, the Hell Telephone might be a good idea right now.“

„Your turn Y/N,“ Yukhei declines, ushering Taeyong to bring the wagon to your side of the table. You dial and wait roughly half a minute.

„Sorry, I was partying,“ a voice creaks through the old speaker. „How can I help? Isn’t this Club Daemon speaking? Is it who I think it is?“

„Hey dad.“

„It is!“

„Hello. You’ve heard about me, then.“

„Yup yup! That you’re Yukhei’s personal dog trainer is what Kai wrote me on Whatsapp! Did you really pour silver water on him? That’s funny as hell!“

„Oh God.“

„I say that a lot these days as well, man. Sorry, we have some music blasting here by the way!“

„Hey dad, what actually happened with God and Satan?“

„Ah, long ass story. Satan chickened out recently, hell is one hell of a job you know. New job opportunity for me. But you gotta take it easy and have fun.“

„I can tell.“

A spitfire verse of what sounds like Megan Thee Stallion is currently pumping through the telephone. Ten grooves right along in his hammock, smiling way too ominously. You can tell he knows every bar by heart. He’s been listening to the human radio way too much during his errants.

„I’m only stressed because the furniture is terrible.“

„The what?“

„In the years of my absence, horned geezer got a little too creative with the design, you know. I’m more of a romantic.“

„So… you just moved in there just because.“

„You could say that, yeah!“

Confused shrugging among the club members. Belial keeps on babbling and blasting something else at the other end of the line. It must be K-Pop or something like that.

„Talk about romance, I hear you have a mate?“

„Yeah dad, it’s Baekhyun.“

„Oh him? I’ve heard of that guy! The merman!“

„He’s really sweet.“

„Make many cute demon babies alright. That would be so adorable. I’m all ready to cuddle wuddle them. I actually came up with baby name suggestions.“

„Dad!“

„You know, 80 years ago. I met your mom…“

„Dad, I don’t wanna hear your love stories. Rather tell me what happened to mom. What did Satan do?“

„Listen here. That was a stupid rumor Azazel was spreading because he’s a gossip man!“ Belial rages at the other end of the line. „Your mom was 8906, alright. She died of diabetes. You got adopted by humans she found trustworthy and planned to be your caretakers.“

„That was all planned?!“

„You were… a bit too young for hell back then. She wanted to leave you the choice later on in life whether you want to be in a clan or come here, or neither of that. I know being a half-breed isn’t easy. And you should get into all these worlds by your own devices. I learned about all of this only much later you see. I’ve been hanging out in the clouds for some time. It’s pretty chill there. But now I’m happy to hear from you.“

„Yeah.“

„If you got anything you need paid? Rent, marriage, car, diapers? Just ask me when needed.“

„I dunno…“

Looks like your dad is a rather forward thinker indeed. Well, least he thought it through.

„If you need it spontaneously and I’m not available, just force Yukhei to give you some pocket money.“

„I don’t have to force him. He already does that without me even asking.“

„That’s what I call a great president!“

„He literally thinks my bank account is free real estate where he can dump anything. I can’t even manage all that,“ you roll your eyes, with Yukhei grinning his most satisfied smile at the end of the table.

On the more unsatisfied end, Kai is about to jump up and sock him in the chest. You know damn well his salary hasn’t been increasing since Yukhei discovered his unsolicited Sugar Daddy hobby. You can buy Baekhyun some extra cotton candy now, but you’ll have to figure out a way to transfer some pocket money to Kai yourself. Now really, he’s been training the shit out of you.

„Even better! Cheers to him. He’s too straight for his own good sometimes though. Anyways. You can drop by as soon as we cleaned up here. We’ll open the circles of hell completely next month.“

„Okay, that’s good news!“

„Once you get pregnant, make sure you two find a flaming cave apartment on the east side! You really wanna raise your kids here. Hellraiser, get it?“

„The east side is too hot for Baekhyun. His tub water would just evaporate, man.“

„Oh! Then the west side. A nice penthouse with panoramic views on a volcano. You’ll get a baking Pompeii face mask every time you’re stepping out! There’s so much ash raining down, your kid can do snow angels on every pavement. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for everything.“

In the meantime, the party guests are blasting Caramelldansen in the background and louds clapping numbs your ears.

„Dad…. you realize you have a lot of clown energy, right? Do you even hear me?“

„Talk about clowns, actually,“ the king carries on completely unbothered. „Mammon really wants to see Kai too, I think he’s missing him. He’s calmed down a little after the Corona crisis messed with his bank account.“

Commotion at the table. Kai almost chokes on his cold tea.

„That’s unexpected… I thought he’d never do that.“

„Yeah aw, I know,“ your father says. „Satan has spread a lot of fake news while he was here, you see.“

„We’re glad to be welcome then? That sounds like a good idea to meet up some time. Maybe for a day or two.“

„Strike! I convinced you!“

„Yeah, you did…“

„Few of you saw hell back in the day, right?“

„Yukhei, Kai, I dunno who else, Ten I’m guessing.“

Nods from the hammock. Wouldn’t be strange if Ten was a regular hell driver.

„Oh Ten! Greet Ten from me. His instagram is what I aspire to. Ten is the coolest. Even the ghouls I know don’t have that kind of fashion sense.“

„Will do.“

„And— about aspirations. We’ll be talking about your heir thing when the time is right you see, I know you want to know about all of this.“

You perk up, as do the club members.

„It’s a thing for the future. I’m not hellbent or anything,“ you say, tongue in cheek.

„Hah! You’re funny. I see we’re agreeing on this. You’re very busy with Baekhyun, right. Love is priority. Hell later. This place is a lot to handle anyway.“

„…exactly.“

„I know my daughter and I didn’t even meet her yet!“

Taeyong does a little aw noise in the background and even Yukhei has to smile.

„I’ll probably tell the same stories you do and blast the same music in a couple years, I can see it coming.“

„And that’s when you’re ready for the throne. Remember—“

„Gotta keep it easy and make it fun.“

„You got it. Until then, live a tense life man, that’s also needed.“

„Dad, what the hell!“

„I actually mean it. Leave it to your old man to get this 9th circle popping in the meantime.“

You get the image of your father watching youtube music videos all day and trying to keep up with the latest slang words on twitter.

„Okay, crazy old man.“

„At your service!“

It almost makes you laugh how the old generation of full-breed demons is completely gone wild and the youngsters are the opposite. Well, except the half-lycans, but they’re always living on the edge anyway.

„Can I speak to Mister Lee as well? Is he around?“

„Mark or Taeyong or Taemin? We have a lot of Lees.“

„Um, the butler guy.“

„Taeyong, here it goes. See you dad!“

You pass the hellephone, Taeyong poises himself.

„Hey there, young man!“

„Not that young. 552, Sire.“

„Hilarious, you can’t even get a Styx boat license around here at that age. Anyway. Got some news for you.“

„Yes, Mister?“

„Mammon recently splurged on the latest robo fancy schmancy tech stuff from Japan for no reason. I guessed you would want to try one on.“

„Pardon— Try on what?“

„Oh, a prosthetic exo-skeleton I mean. I heard you had beef with the loopy guy. Just drop by whenever.“

„A prosthetic arm aid?“

„Well yes!“

„That’s… that’s very kind of you.“

„No problem! Is the your Professor X available to speak to as well?“

„Of course, Sire, one moment,“ Taeyong composes himself, but you can tell he’s still processing it.

Everybody is on the edge of their seat.

„Hi down there,“ Lucas takes the speaker and leans back in his seat very laxly. Compared to how defeated he looked in your office, his posture is much more unwound now.

„Hi up there, Lucas what’s good?“

„Doing mighty fine these days. You gave us a good headline.“

„Oh, you’re very welcome Mister President. There’s headlines about me?“

The King sounds genuinely surprised.

„Yeah. You’ll have to add me in Kai’s Whatsapp group or give me your number. I’ll update you on these types of things.“

„Note down 1666 2666 3666, and I have some updates for you as well.“

Mark and Taeyong instantly start scribbling the number into their vest notebooks, meanwhile Lucas swirls the tea in his cup around.

„Shoot.“

He begins drinking it.

„Mister Cerberus’ daughter graduated today. Canine sciences. Lovely girl, calls herself Circe, you know, like the evil witch. Very intelligent person. She’s looking for a job and a mate in the upper world. I told her about the Club’s situation and you know, gossipped a little. She says she’s interested in you.“

Lucas spits out the tea.

„Sorry, what?“

„Hey, do you really think you’re not a man in demand? Anybody who studies werewolves knows about you. And you have free membership spots, or is that information outdated?“

„I-Is she a half-breed?“

„Of course, do you think Mister Cerberus would date another demon? That would make no sense! Hell, wouldn’t that be beastitality or something? Is it that what you call it?“

„Uh… Bestiality I thought, Sir.“

„Anyways. I haven’t seen Cerberus with anyone else but werewolves.“

„Werewolves are the closest genetically to hell hounds, Mister President,“ Mark leans in confidentially to brief Yukhei. „It’s good conduct for them to date.“

„Oh, uh, I get it.“

„So, do you want to meet her or not?“

„We, we have free spots all the way!“

„Great then, I’ll send her up the staircase now. She’ll be there in a minute or so.“

„The stai—!”

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[r3volutionary-queen]

Chapter 31 Sneak Peek

In his arms, Darcy was laughing.

She lay back against his chest, her head slotting perfectly under his chin, and she laughed. It was sunlight to his soul, bright and pure and warm and kind and it softened every jagged edge inside of him. Steve pressed a lingering kiss into her hair and tightened his arms around her middle, making her giggle even more—a happy sound that he could have listened to for the rest of his life.

Below, Bucky sprawled across both of their laps, using their thighs as his personal pillows. Darcy’s fingers were carding through his long hair, nails scraping gently across his scalp until the man was all but putty in her hands. His dark head swiveled up, love-drunk eyes openly watching her before crinkling around the edges, squinting like two happy half-moons. That gray gaze then slid upwards and met Steve’s soft look.

It was like staring into a marbled sky moments before the sun broke through.

“Love you,” Bucky mouthed to him and Steve’s heart swelled and swelled and swelled until it threatened to burst.

In this place there were no shadows, no war, no death. In this place Darcy’s skin was not littered in scars and Bucky’s arm was warm and whole.

In this place Steve did not burn.

He would have been content to spend eternity here, if it weren’t for the tug on his shoulder, soft but insistent.

Steve jolted and inhaled on instinct, lungs gasping for air as he surged back into consciousness. It was not a peaceful float to the surface; it was sudden and jarring, like the leg of a once trusted chair snapping beneath him. Pain was the first thing to register, a raw kind of agony, as if someone or something had pried him open and scrambled all of his insides. Blood trickled down his shredded throat and he swallowed with a grimace.

Another tug and a voice, quietly murmuring—urging.

“Wake up.”

Blue eyes fluttered open; everything was a blur. Icy rain stung his skin like a thousand needles, cold mud seeped into his suit, and thunder cracked through the air, so loud and so deep it rolled over his skin and shook the ground beneath him. A second later, the sky splintered in a dazzling flash of light as white-hot electricity threaded the earth to the clouds.

And hovering over him, silhouetted against that bright flash of light, was a strange face. Strange because they were familiar; strange because they were dead.

Or at least they were supposed to be.

And then it struck him—

The stone.

Steve’s heart lurched in his chest. The world spun and tipped itself out before righting once more. He blinked and blinked again in disbelief, in fear, in hope, in a painful, terrified mixture of all three.

“T…” he started with a sandpaper rasp. “T’Challa?”

The Wakandan king’s mouth curved and brown eyes softened in relief. His dark brows rose and he dipped his chin, nodding once. “On your feet, Captain.”

Stunned, Steve could not move.

“Am I dreaming?”

“This is no dream,” T’Challa assured him softly. He lifted his head and spun on his haunches, looking at something Steve could not see. A light filled the king’s eyes, both kind and fierce. He glanced down at Steve where he lay, beaten and broken, and T’Challa’s words pierced right through his weary heart. “Hope has not deceived you.”

The words sank beneath his skin, cutting into the meat of his heart, and Steve’s eyes misted. There were things he wanted to say, to ask, but the words couldn’t make it through his tightened throat. For a long moment, he could not even breathe. It felt surreal, liminal.

Hope has not deceived you.

It was strange, almost, how hope felt more dangerous, more treacherous, than the very war surrounding him. A fight could destroy his body, but hope? Hope, or rather hope lost, could ruin his soul. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to truly hope and so when it bloomed in the center of his chest now, like a warm pool of sunlight cascading down his limbs and filling him to the brim, he shook under its raw power.

“Are there,” Steve swallowed heavily, his voice thick, “Are there others? How many?”

T’Challa watched him closely and the corners of his eyes fanned out in a warm smile. The Wakandan king shifted on the balls of his feet and held out his hand. “Rise and see for yourself.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond when an animalistic roar ripped through the air like a serrated knife. The blond stiffened, recognizing the Hulk’s bellow of rage instantly. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and before he could stop it, that dangerous, treacherous hope inside of him grew wings and took flight.

It rose up the length of his throat and surged out of his mouth in a single, wet, hysterical sob of a laugh. He clapped his hand over his mouth and his eyes screwed shut.

All around him, the rain continued to fall.

Finally, Steve sniffed and wiped his face. With a grunt, he slapped his hand into the king’s waiting palm and it was the strength of the Black Panther, not his own, that pulled him to his feet. Instantly, his back erupted in a blinding pain and he staggered, groaning, shoulders hunching as his muscles trembled and stretched. Steve shook and panted through chapped lips, trying to push past the all-consuming agony. His vision blurred, static around the edges, and then finally, he lifted his gaze to the battlefield—

And froze.

Over the last few months, Steve had grown accustomed to the feeling of shock. He knew what it tasted like, how it jolted through his veins, paralyzing him, but this shock was not one born out of terror or dread.

The shock that rolled through him now was one of awe.

The battle still raged; the rain had sunk the fires back into the earth and a white-gray smoke clouded the blood-soaked ground. Explosions flung mud in the air, coating the chaos of fighting armies in filth until it was near impossible to tell who was who. But beyond all of that, beyond the looming warships and the waves of Chitauri and the wolf-like monsters of Thanos, was something else entirely.

Amid the debris and the bombed-out craters and the piles of bodies littering the ground vast beyond number and recognition was an army—and not just any army.

It was the Avengers.

His team, his friends, his family; the world’s last hope. All of them, every last one he had watched dissolve into ash just months ago.

They were scattered but they fought like creatures that exhaustion, despair, and even death itself could not subdue. And even beyond that, a great host of Wakandan warriors were charging into the fray with what was left of the Asgardians and the Skrulls.

And for the first time since any of this began, they were pushing Thanos’ army back to the tree line; theywere overwhelming their enemy.

Wonder overtook him, and indescribable joy; it was beautiful—stunning, robbing him of all thought and word, and for a moment, Steve wished he could paint this.

The only thing that was missing—

Steve’s stomach dropped.

His mind splintered into a million pieces upon the realization and fear prickled along his skin like the legs of a thousand spiders. Panicked, Steve spun around wildly, searching the chaos for two familiar shapes.

“What is it? What is wrong?”

Snapping his head up, a wild kind of insanity tugged at the edges of his mind as he held T’Challa’s worried gaze. Because if the stone had knocked himout cold, he could only imagine what it had done to Bucky, let alone Darcy. In fact, he knew all too well what that stone did to her every time she touched it and the memories that flooded his mind had him in a blind terror.

“There’s a woman,” Steve gasped out, choking on the words, his eyes still roving over the vast, simmering field. Raindrops slid down his face, dripped from his nose, his jaw, his chin. “Darcy. I need to find her. I have to find her—she was hurt pretty bad and… She’s—and Bucky—”

A blood-curling scream.

Steve whipped around, heart in his throat. Somewhere to his right there was a high-pitched female scream—a wail, really—and Steve had never heard Darcy make a noise like that before, but he knew instantly that it was her.

His heart told him so.

Steve couldn’t see her, couldn’t see much of anything beyond the flurry of war and the blasts from the enemy’s weapons. He paled and his vision spun as a new and torrential kind of fear seared through every vein in his body.

“Go,” T’Challa urged at his side and Steve snapped his head around, panting and trembling all over. The king clasped his shoulder, tilting his head toward him. “Do what you must. We will meet when this is over, my friend.”

Unable to do anything but nod, Steve mustered up the very last of his strength (all he had left) and turned and ran into the heart of the battle. Even as the abyss of terror threatened to pull him under, Steve felt something inside of him shift, something endless and ancient, and suddenly his spine was carved out of steel. He was going to find her, both her and Bucky, and he was going to get them out of this place—even if it broke his back and heart and left nothing but his bones behind.

He was going to find them both and he was going to bring them home.

(GUYS IT IS HAPPENING. WE ARE LIKE 6K IN ON THIS CHAPTER SO PLEASE EXCUSE IF YOU'VE MESSAGED ME TODAY, I'LL ANSWER LATER BECAUSE THE FLOW CANNOT BE INTERRUPTED KAY THANKS)

[skiller0dani]

Moonlight | Draco Malfoy

MASTERLIST Harry Potter Masterlist

angst requested requests info

Part 9/10 (Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)(Part 10) song

almost finished!! this weekend I’ll post the LAST part to my ‘Obliviate’ Series! 

Ron tried to not get involved in your relationship with Draco, if anything he actively avoided the topic altogether. But even he had to admit that the disastrous breakup was hard to ignore, even for him. He hated seeing you so sad, and he hates to admit it but seeing Draco so upset was tugging at his heartstrings- and he didn’t even like Draco all that much. You he cared deeply for, and seeing you in this state was difficult for him, but most of all for Harry. You barely ate, barely spoke, and your grades had begun to slip considerably. 

Draco was your everything, and his betrayal was more brutal than anything else you could envision. You still couldn’t wrap your head around it, you wouldn’t let yourself accept that Draco did this- all of this- of his own free will. With all his memories in tact, while still claiming that he loves you. You hate the fact that you care, but there still has to be more to it. You were determined to get to the bottom of this, you needed to know why. 

It had been weeks since you’ve spoken to Draco, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look him in the eye during meals. You always felt his eyes on you at least once, and you tried desperately to remain composed, to not let a tear escape. The worst part was that you expected Draco to fight for you, to beg you to speak to him, to do anything. But he didn’t do anything, he was letting you go and he wasn’t fighting for you. How could he say he loves you but then let you go? You know Draco well enough to know when he isn’t telling you the truth, and Draco has lied to you more this year then he ever has before. You were desperate to know why. It couldn’t just be about the Dark Mark, because Draco is afraid. He’s scared of Voldemort sure, but he’s acting as though you’re always in imminent danger. As though being near him could kill you at any given moment, you don’t understand. You need to understand. 

“Just let it go.” Hermione mumbled a few nights later as you sat with her studying for Arithmancy. Your head was rested in your hand as you flipped through the book laid out in front of you, a book you got from the restricted section- with Dumbledore’s written permission of course. It contained everything wizards knew about the Dark Mark, and the dark magic it possessed. The process it takes to receive a Dark Mark is horribly painful, your heart squeezes painfully every time you remember Draco had to go through that pain. 

“I can’t, you know that.” Your voice sounds harsher than you’d intended but for the last few days Hermione has been relentlessly trying to get you to give up. Even though Draco has hurt you worse than anyone ever has, you’ll never stop fighting to learn the truth. 

“This is going to get you killed, don’t you understand that?” She snaps back, dropping her quill as she glares at you from across the table. 

“I don’t care!” 

“Draco isn’t worth this Y/N!” You slam your book shut and shove away from the table. 

“He is to me.” With that you march right out of the common room, your heart pounding wildly as you go. 

Draco tugs nervously on the collar of his shirt for the hundredth time today as he sits outside Snape’s office. Another full moon is rising tonight, and if Draco doesn’t get the Wolfsbane potion from Snape, he’s going to turn himself in to Dumbledore. He can’t risk what happened last time, to happen again. Draco can’t hurt anyone else. The corridor is silent, so silent you could hear a pin drop as Draco nervously tapped his foot against the stone floor. With the potion, Draco will unfortunately still turn, but the potion will grant him the ability to remember who he is. The anxiety turning in his gut makes him feel as though he’s going to faint, the horrible memory of tearing you apart and nearly killing you gives him nightmares. He can’t hurt anyone ever again- especially you. 

The door creaks open and much to Draco’s relief, a small bottle is held in Snape’s palm. Draco takes it wordlessly and stalks down the corridor, there’s still a few hours until evening. Once Draco exits the castle, his owl drops a letter into his palm before flying off for the Owlery. Against his better judgement, Draco has written a letter to Professor Lupin. The only other Werewolf that Draco knows of that actively avoids trying to eat people. He tears the letter open, reading the words over hastily. 

Draco, 

The second transformation isn’t nearly as traumatic as the first, but it’s always painful. Agony unlike anything else you’ll ever know, and the potion doesn’t stop the transformation. That’s important Draco, nothing can stop you from changing. But the potion allows you to remember who you are and the people you love, and so it gives you the ability to curl up somewhere and wait until morning. While you’ll physically change into the animal, you won’t become the animal- you’ll still be you. During my first transformations I ended up injuring my parents, this is who you are and every Werewolf has hurt somebody. Every single one of them. I’ll be here to help and guide you, and don’t worry- your secret is safe with me. 

-Remus Lupin

It’s almost embarrassing for Draco to admit that the letter provided him some comfort. Draco clutched the letter tightly to his chest, his palms trembling as the time read 5:30 pm. He needs you to stay as far from him as humanly possible, but unfortunately that’s not in your plans for today. 

“Draco?” He hears your small voice from behind him and his entire body goes rigid. No! You need to leave, now. Draco turns with a gulp, his eyes briefly meeting yours. You open your mouth to speak but Draco cuts you off- “you need to go Y/N.” 

His tone is firm but you see the fear in his eyes, the trembling in his palms, the sweat trickling down the side of his face. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” You cross your arms, your eyes trying to meet his but he keeps avoiding your gaze. Draco runs a shaky hand through his hair, the potion secured safely in his palm. “I’m not kidding, go. Leave.” His voice is harsh as he snaps at you, and you flinch away from the intensity in his tone. He turns to walk away but you grab his wrist, yanking back to look at you. 

“If you really loved me you wouldn’t be running away!” You gasp, tears welling in your eyes. Draco turns to you, his eyebrows pinching together as he looks down at you sadly. 

“It’s because I love you that I’m running away. Trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near me right now.” His voice is trembling as a haunted look crosses over his face as the sun begins it’s descent from the sky. Draco’s eyes snap up, noticing the courtyard darkening. “What are you-” Draco yanks away from you before you can finish, his eyes sending you silent pleas to just let him go. He darts into the castle, his stride quick but you quickly begin to scramble after him. Draco unstoppers the potion bottle and drinks it, feeling his hands and feet beginning to tingle. He’s going to change within an hour at least, and when he glances behind him he sees you trailing after him. 

“Draco!” You call, you’ve never seen him like this before. He looks positively petrified and you won’t let him go until you understand why. He doesn’t stop or slow, if anything he begins to walk quicker. You jog to catch up with him and you grab him by the shoulders, “what the hell is going on!” You nearly yell, tears falling down your cheeks as you take him in. The sight before you nearly makes you gasp. He looks sickly, his eyes sunken in and heavy bags underneath them. His skin is pale, more so than usual, and clammy. His entire body is trembling so hard it’s practically buzzing, and you swear you can see his heart pounding in his chest. 

Fear ripples through Draco’s body as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, he places his own hands on your shoulders with a look of raw desperation in his eyes. “Y/N, you have to go right now. Go and don’t come looking for me-” His eyes dart to the window, the moon is beginning to rise. Panic envelops Draco as he feels the first bone beginning to crack. You hear the sickening crunch of his bones changing and you release him, horror on your face as Draco’s face twists in pain. “Go!” Draco yells, turning and nearly sprinting down the hallway, towards the exit to the castle. He thought he had more time- he was wrong. 

For reasons even you don’t understand, your feet carry on after Draco. You hear more of his bones cracking as he stumbles to the ground just as he crosses the rickety bridge. “D-Dray what’s happening?” You cry, panic curling it’s icy fingers around your throat as you watch him with wide eyes. Draco releases a wail of agony that sends you across the grass and to his side just at the edge of the forbidden forest. “Please, go.” He begs again, and when Draco looks back at you- you jolt away from him with tears in your eyes. His eyes are glowing an ethereal pale blue. “Draco,” Your voice is a quiet, haunted whisper. You feel frozen, planted into the ground where you stand, watching as Draco cries out again just as the moon peeks out from the clouds. 

The moon rays hit Draco and as soon as they do he’s screaming again, except this time his body changes. You watch with horrified eyes as Draco’s entire body takes the shape of a giant white werewolf. You feel drilled into place, panic clutching at your heart and tears trickling down your cheeks as you stare into his eyes. You recognize this wolf, it’s the same one that attacked you. Draco attacked you. You wait as the white wolf remains hunched on the ground, and when he lifts his head and looks into your eyes your brows furrow. You can still see Draco in the eyes of the wolf, it’s not a mindless beast this time, it’s Draco. 

“Draco I know you’re still in there...” There are a million thoughts swirling around your head so fast you feel nearly dizzy. Draco lifts his head to watch you, and you reach a hand out for him but as you do he turns and bounds off into the forbidden forest. Your chest heaves as you collapse to the ground, your legs no longer having the strength to support you. Everything comes into focus now, why Draco did what he did. He was never that afraid of Voldemort hurting you, he was afraid he was going to hurt you. He’s a werewolf! When did this happen? How, why? You can’t stop the questions as they continue to bombard you, desperately trying to make sense of all of this. 

You fall forward, your palms catching you as you cry. Oh Draco. You had no idea what he’s been going through- what he’s had to endure this whole time. All you want now is to help him, and while you’re not sure you could ever forgive what he’s done to you- at least now you know the whole story. Your head snaps up when you hear the howl. The howl of a lonely werewolf. Your heart breaks in your chest for the thousandth time time today. You stand from the forest floor, you can’t just leave Draco all alone to deal with this by himself. Against your better judgement you keep your eyes focused on where the howl came from, and you trudge into the Forbidden Forest. 

***

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[skrltwtch]

Starving

Prompt: I work at the butcher shop and we've never spoken, but I recognise you from when you come in to buy fresh meat every month. I don't mind keeping the store open a little past closing since you're running late and seem kind of desperate. This may be weird to mention, but did you know your teeth are getting sharper while we talk? (Source in master list)

Word count: 2,782 words

Genre: Feels, supernatural

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Someone had the bloody cheek to enter as I was getting ready to close up shop. Our opening hours were indicated on the door. The door. You couldn’t get any clearer than that. When did schools and parents stop teaching their charges not to enter business premises two minutes before closing time?

It was her.

I could make an exception this time, I suppose. She came in often enough and bought more than enough for me to consider her a regular. And she was a lovely person to deal with; I couldn’t say the same for a decent amount of my other regulars, whose business I accepted with gritted teeth.

‘I’m sorry. I know you’re closing soon. Just — please, I’ll take any cuts of meat you have left. I can pay extra for the trouble,’ she said.

Oh, God, what had I done to earn that kind of impression?

‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Her pale skin and quivering form said otherwise. ‘I just — I just lost track of time at work. I got here as quickly as I could once I could leave the office. I’m really sorry.’

‘Don’t — it’s okay.’ I packed whatever I had left that would also match the typical volume of her purchases. From the corner of my eye, I saw her pacing up and down the shop, holding herself tightly. Every breath she made reached my ears. She wasn’t fine. Forget small talk then. Just like it wasn’t my business what she did with enough meat to feed a large animal in a day every month, it wasn’t my business why she looked close to falling over.

Maybe it was.

I called her over to the cashier, where approximately four kilogrammes of raw meat awaited her. Despite her stature, she never had any difficulties making it out of the shop with that much in tow. That might not be the case today. She was having a tough time simply getting her wallet out of her bag, and she looked absolutely sickly. Were those … were those tears in her eyes?

I really shouldn’t.

I really should.

‘Hey, are you alright? You don’t look too good,’ I said. Understatement: she appeared to be deteriorating by the second.

‘I’m fine,’ she insisted as she struggled with her wallet this time. I narrowed my eyes at her for a better look at what I thought I saw: her canines extending and swelling into fangs. A cross between a hiccup and a sob squeaked past her throat and into the open.

‘You can come back for payment tomorrow. I can help you with this to your car.’ No, it was now my social responsibility not to let her get behind the wheel. She was barely able to stand. ‘Or I can drop you off at your place … or somewhere nearby if you’re more comfortable with that.’

‘I’m fine,’ she growled.

Literally.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘It’s … okay …?’ Sorry, my attention was hijacked by the sight of claws, honest-to-God claws, fucking splitting her fingernails open.

She left £100 on the counter and grabbed the parcels I made for her. ‘Please keep the change. You’ve been so kind. I can’t — I can’t come back here anymore.’

I wasn’t given a chance to question why she felt that way. Whatever was plaguing her — and scaring me a little, I had to admit — didn’t give her a chance either to make it out the door, as she’d collapsed not far from the counter. I had no idea how I could even let her walk out alone in the state she was in. I rushed to the phone. ‘I’m calling for help,’ I said.

She got to her hands and knees. That was … encouraging. I think. ‘No, please don’t. You need to go.’ Her voice was distorted and rumbly. Her blouse started to tear across her back, revealing a thin, but growing, layer of … hair. Fur, more like. Not so encouraging anymore.

‘I can’t leave you here alone. What is happening to you?’

She buried her face in her hands — or whatever they were becoming as they stretched and popped. Her feet burst out of her shoes, the same changes happening to them. ‘Don’t laugh.’

‘I promise.’ The rapid decline of her health from when she came in, the physical changes wracking her body, and the animalistic noises she was making drained what I was witnessing dry of any humour. I doubted there was any to begin with. I felt almost like I was seeing something I wasn’t supposed to.

‘Werewolf. I’m a’ — a bark, involuntary, broke up her sentence — ‘werewolf.’

I went to her. Outside, the shades of violet and orange the sky had been awash with were muddling into a dark blue. I ducked my head a little to verify the shape of the moon tonight. None of the passers-by thought to look inside. At this point, I was more worried about someone else becoming privy to her secret than I was about the image of my shop. I didn’t understand how this was happening. It made sense and no sense at the same time.

‘You can stay in the storeroom tonight. You’ll be safe.’

She kept her head down. ‘Your boss? Okay?’ Her speech was strained.

‘I’m the boss of me.’ I knew my decision not to hire extra help would pay off someday. ‘Come on.’

‘Thank you.’

She stood up. I shifted my gaze elsewhere, as tempting as it was to see what a werewolf looked like mid-transformation. I showed her the way to the storeroom. It was due for a cleanup anyway. Her constant twitching and whining next to me didn’t go unnoticed. I took it to mean that she was controlling herself from either changing completely until I was out of her way or hurting me. I could be completely way off base, of course. The only piece of werewolf media I ever consumed was An American Werewolf in London (I was more of a zombie person myself), and … well, from what I’d seen tonight, the filmmakers got the transformation right, I’d say.

She took off what was left of her clothes once she was inside, and her transformation … accelerated. I closed the door to give her privacy — and to drown out the horrific noises. Nothing about the human body should produce what I was hearing. Things went quiet, eventually. I opened the door ever so slightly. ‘I’ll be here all night,’ I said despite not knowing whether she’d know what I was saying, ‘so you won’t be alone.’ I should be safe on this side of the door: the change had stripped her of opposable thumbs. The keyword was ‘should’.

The darkness coupled with her black fur made it impossible for me to see the creature she had become. Did I want to see? I still couldn’t shake off the feeling like I’d been some kind of voyeur; her appearance mattered naught to me, though I’d understand if she thought — she likely did — it would. Then she threw herself against the door, slamming both the actual thing and the door to my maiden glimpse at a real werewolf shut.

She loosed a howl that drove home the point that I had a werewolf in my storeroom. That I had been selling meat to a werewolf for her consumption. That the sweet, cheery petite lady who came in once a month was a werewolf. I wondered, then, if what she was like as a human carried over to her wolf self. If it did, I should be safe, right?

… There it was again: ‘should’.

I went back to what I was doing before what I knew about this world had been violently upended. I thanked God — should I? Did He or did He not exist? — that tomorrow was my day off. I was going to spend it with a good book and minimal to no human contact in the comfort of my living room. Now I was only interested in contemplating my place in the universe. What else was out there? Were any of the people walking past as I went to advertise the shop’s official closure for the day harbouring similar secrets as well?

Baleful whines transcended the door and filled the air. I picked up the parcels she’d dropped. Could she be hungry? It was worth a shot. I unwrapped one parcel. The closer I got to the storeroom, the more charged she got. I never dreamt I’d get to know the extent of damage a werewolf’s claws could do to a door in this lifetime. I threw the slab of meat as deep inside as I could. While she went to examine what it was that I’d left to her mercy, I turned on the lights to benefit us both.

What I got to see at last was ineffective in reeling in my disbelief. Where I’d left a quaking, infirm woman now stood a massive black wolf rending raw meat like paper. Despite looking almost indistinguishable from an ordinary wolf, there was an unsettling quality to her proportions and demeanour that made it hard for me to remember my manners and stop fucking staring. She was … beautifully horrifying and frighteningly stunning all at once. In some sick, twisted way, it made sense that something like her — something like what she’d become — couldn’t have come about naturally.

She turned to look at me, her jaw dripping with blood and her tail … wagging.

I regained control of my senses quickly enough to leave. The slamming of the door failed to mute her whimper at — missing out on her chance at a tasty human? Being alone in the storeroom again? Best I didn’t read too much into it. I fed her the rest of the meat she bought. She refused to eat the last piece, yet she wailed when I left her be.

‘I don’t think I’d taste very good. I’m lean and stringy,’ I said through the crack in the door. ‘And bland, like most English food.’

I didn’t know what to make of the bark that followed my attempt at a witticism.

I felt bad for her. Wolves were social animals, weren’t they? Then again, who’d feel bad for me upon discovering my mutilated body in my shop? No one had attempted to romanticise werewolves like the likes of Anne Rice and the Twilight author had done with vampires, and probably with good reason, as I willed myself to remember how she, a soft-spoken woman an hour ago, devoured almost four kilogrammes of meat in record time. The ending of An American Werewolf in London wasn’t a happy one, for God’s sake! (Maybe I should stop invoking God’s name for now.)

‘Can you understand me?’ I said. ‘Bark … um, bark twice for yes’, so it wouldn’t be a coincidence.

And she did.

Well, fuck me.

I sighed. ‘Are you … are you lonely? Bark twice for yes.’

Silence.

For the longest time, until she barked again, softly, mournfulness plain to hear in the two notes.

✦✧✦✧

My back! G— fuck, my back. How the fuck did I sleep last night?

Right. I slept in a chair outside the storeroom.

I stretched to get rid of the kinks in my back. Yeah, that was it. That was the spot. No, that one. That other one was definitely it. Relief — sweet, glorious relief. How the hell did I even fall asleep in a chair anyway?

‘Hey, you’re awake.’

I turned to the direction of the voice that had no reason to be here at this time of day. Or at all. No one was allowed here but me. Why was I in the shop? Wasn’t today my day off? What happened last night? Why, of all things instead, did I remember not to use God’s name as a synonym for ‘fuck’? I also didn’t remember finding religion last night. I pinched the bridge of my nose. I needed water.

I focused my eyes on the figure in front of me.

It was her.

Oh.

Oh.

‘Yeah, I am now.’ Without a doubt. ‘How are you?’

She declined my offer to have my seat. My legs demanded that I continue standing to get the blood flowing. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. I could believe her this time. She was wearing one of my aprons over the tattered remnants of her clothes. ‘Thank you for … um.’ Her pause made me think her admission last night was the first time she said those words out loud to someone else. ‘Thank you.’

‘It was nothing. You looked … really sick yesterday’: I took a leaf out of her book

She smiled. ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to be polite. I know what I am.’ Her words were shaded with the same tint of sadness as when she confided in me about her loneliness.

‘No. You — the wolf — you were …’ Tame? She wasn’t an animal. She was … ‘You didn’t hurt — I’m fine.’ I held up both my hands to show her the absence of any marks, and she could very well see I wasn’t missing any limbs. ‘I’m fine,’ I repeated, ‘except for this sudden bout of scrambled egg for brains, but in my defence (or not), this is how I am a fair bit of the time. Who put me in charge of a meat slicer?’

‘You’re very kind. And cute,’ I thought I heard her say under her breath. ‘Thank you. How can I repay you for last night?’

‘You don’t have to. The meat’s on the house, too.’ Nothing to do with what I thought she said. ‘I’ll return you your £100 on the way out.’

‘No. Please. I could’ve done something bad to you.’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘Please. There has to be something I can do for you. I’d feel terrible otherwise.’

I truly wanted nothing from her. I survived a night with a werewolf. That by itself was a fantastic reward. I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Well …

‘Were you serious about not coming to my shop anymore?’

‘I … if that’s what you want, I can go elsewhere. If you’re going to tell the other butchers not to sell to me because of what I am, that’s okay, too. I’ll figure something out.’

‘No. G— shit. That’s awful. I’m not —’ Why did she always jump to the worst conclusions about me? ‘No, promise me you’ll come back to my shop. That’s all I ask. And … your name. You’ve been coming here for years, and I don’t even know your name.’ I knew some of my customers’ names — and not necessarily the ones that mattered. Like her. ‘It’s not about the business I get from you, by the way. I don’t care what you are. I don’t know why you are what you are, and I have so many questions, but I do know it’s none of my business. I won’t judge.’

She nodded. ‘Thank you. I promise. I’ll come back. I’ll come back when it’s not the full moon and I didn’t skip lunch because I was too busy with work. And my name’s Eloise.’

‘I’m George.’

‘It’s lovely to meet you, George. Now you know why I buy so much meat on one day of every month. You’re the only person who knows what I am.’

‘I won’t tell anyone. You have my word.’

‘Thank you. I know I’ve said that a lot of times already, but I mean each and every one of them.’ Her eyes roved around the space. ‘I should go now. I have work in a couple of hours at best … or I’m late at worst. And you probably need to get ready, too. You should be opening soon … or I’ve made you late. It’s on your door.’

‘I have the day off today. Great timing, huh? Are you sure you’re good to drive?’

‘Yes, I can definitely manage much better today than I would’ve have yesterday. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just so hungry …’ She shook her head, expelling a breath signalling disapproval. ‘I’ll return this’ — she yanked at an apron strap — ‘to you tomorrow as well.’

‘Actually … one more thing. So we’re really even.’

‘Yes?’

‘Would you perhaps like to meet for coffee later, please?’ I could only navel-gaze for so long.

She looked taken aback. That and her response, articulated in three softly spoken words — ‘I’d love to’, led me to believe that what she was like as a human did indeed carry over to her wolf self.

[brownsplodge]

They Howl At Night(5/?)

Crossposted on Ao3

Despite Heather's Protests, Alison had gone to class that day.

According to her, her Headache wasn’t bad enough for her to stay home and get covered  in Heathers stickers, and don’t you have some work to do, I thought you had work. You’re  two years older than me, be more mature and stop using your height advantages. Now,  return my bag.

So, Heather was wearing her freshly knit sweater and trying to sort out Derek's request to change shifts with someone, something about how one of the newcomers in the werewolf centre where he patrolled kept staring at him way too innocently while pawing chalk and  candles under his bed and whistling, something wolves should not be able to do.

She started chewing her hair as she typed an email, telling Derek that whistling wolves are  less of a concern than the suspiciously satanic objects Mr. Pines had smuggled in, along with a rubber duck whose smile was very un-ducklike.

Only a few minutes after she clicked the send button, Derek’s answer popped up.

Dear Miss Pines.

The fact Mr. Pines had been whistling was more creepy than the chalk.

It’s possible to use chalk for very un-demonic stuff, for example street art or communicating with aliens! And I would like you to note that before he turned into a wolf, he had been painting a very lifelike painting of his rubber Duck, Which, if you ask me, Is very disturbing. I get seriously creeped out by ducks. Also please let me switch with some other guard, combined with Alison he’s a nightmare. Seriously, I’ll pay you. Please.

Sincerely, Derek Whittle.

Heather shut the MagiOrb and stretched.

She pulled out her wool. She really wanted to knit something now.

The wool smelled like pine needles, which always calmed her down, though it was slightly  confusing because she thought pine needles were green, not pin. When she’d talked  to Alison about it, the latter had squinted at it, then said: “I dunno, looks green to me.” then  shrugged, “Then again, I’m part wolf, so everything looks green to me. And that does not  smell like pine needles, it smells like unwashed pigs.”

The strange thing was that Alison was right. Whenever Heather touched the red jewel on  the necklace that her Papa had given her She couldn’t smell Pine needles.

Alison also said that the necklace looked creepy, and not Heather creepy, but really magic  creepy, And I know it's a family heirloom, but please don’t wear it all the time Heather.

Talking of that little ray of sunshine, Heather thought, I should make her a sweater too.

Alison would love it.

Of course Heather wondered if she’d also start seeing gnomes everywhere she went.

Oh well. Alison has to take risks sometimes.

...

Alison banged her head on her desk and immediately regretted it as the dull pain in her  head worsened there where she had hit it.

She still had no doubt that escaping Heather with her ‘Heather Tea (trademark)’ had been  a good idea.

But maybe she should have called in sick and gone to perish somewhere else, because  she did not remember why she thought that pre-transcendence history was worth  studying.

Mr. Brown was droning on about how people survived without magic, and Alison wanted to  stop hearing about how they ate squirrels and leave.

She looked out at her MagiOrb blankly.

When Elodie raised her hand and asked Mr. Brown if squirrels were caterpillars, and Mr. Brown started explaining that they turned into beautiful moths, Alison gave up.

She shoved her MagiOrb into her bag, ignoring the cracking sound that came out of the  depths of it, stood up, and walked out of the classroom.

Nobody even turned to look at her, as it was normal for her to do that the night after the full moon.

As she stepped out and breathed the cold air, she instantly felt a little better.

She walked across the street and stepped into the coffee shop. The little bell that  announced her arrival was the loudest thing in the coffee shop.

Alison slumped to the table.

“Hello Alison!” Evan whispered as he walked up to her. He placed a glass of water on the table, and the ice cubes inside sparkled.

“Thanks.” Alison took out her card and scanned it on the machine that evan held out to  her.

Alison looked up as Evan walked away.

Apart from a man sitting in a corner of the shop, she was the only one there.

The table he was at was covered in files and his MagiOrb illuminated his pale face and  glasses as he typed. He muttered under his breath, looking frustrated.

There was something weird about his shadow, but before Alison could take a closer look or care about it, he looked up and stared out of the the wall behind Alison and had seemed to go even more pale than he had been before. Then he put all the files in the briefcase next to him, tucked in his MagiOrb and walked out just as the bell at the door rang and Heather  cartwheeled in.

“HEY, AL!” Alison groaned.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE IN CLASS!” Heather said with a smirk that clearly stated no, I  knew you were here, and came here to annoy you, because I don’t want to work right now. Evan walked back to the table as Heather decided that getting a new chair was unacceptable and had made to sit on Alison's lap instead.

He paused just before reaching them, trying and failing to hide the fact that he was putting  in earplugs.

“Would you like something?” he asked Heather, a little to loudly, just enough that you  would notice he’d plugged his ears if you hadn’t noticed earlier.

“YES! ONE CUP OF TEA PLEASE! EXTRA SWEET!”

“Are you being extra loud to punish me?” Alison whispered.

Heather turned back to Alison, who had escaped from the chair and gotten a new one for  herself. “YES! So, Alison. IS YOUR HEADACHE BETTER?”

Alison flinched as Heather shouted in her ear. “It was.”

“SORRY! MY BAD!”

Heather grinned and Alison glared at her. “No seriously, I’ll stop.”

Evan placed a cup of sugar on the table and dripped a single drop of tea in it, before he  ran off and hid behind the counter.

“I made you a sweater!” Heather pulled out something blue and pulled it over Alison's  head.

Alison struggled to put it on, and looked at the motif on the front. “Cute. But why is there a  fish on it?”

“I don’t know...” Heather poured more sugar into her cup. “Just thought it fits. Maybe it’s  Cause you always find everything fishy? Boop.” Heather stuck a star shaped sticker on  Alison’s left cheek.

Alison drank the cup of water that evan had brought her and fiddled the sticker off. “Where  do you even get these? I never see you buying them.” She put the sticker on Heathers  nose.

“Aaaah...” Heather dramatically leaned over the table and stared at the ceiling dreamily.  “A secret admirer sends them to me. The letters are soooo sweet. I hope they’re good  looking. ” she peeled the sticker off her nose and stuck it onto her cheek.

“Whatever. I’m going back to the apartment. Are you coming or are you going to,… um,  ‘drink’ that first.” She pointed at Heather’s cup of diabetes inducingly sweet cup of ‘tea’

Heather looked at the cup on the table and picked up the teaspoon next to it.

Alison left Heather to finish her bowl of sugar.

...

I’m looking for a cowriter/cowriters!

Comment on my Ao3 account or on this work if you are interested!

please!

[jezkier]

Hansa Wolfpack Daemon AU

this au has lived rent-free in my head for months. The worldbuilding has been fun and I wanted to put it somewhere. It's just a pile of silly headcanons without an actual narrative

The concept is this:

the entire hansa has wolf daemons. all of them. they are the strangest, most ragtag little pack anyone has ever seen.

This is mostly the product of me imagining a pile of wolf daemons asleep on top of each other. a whole dang pack. and Geralt's daemon is at the bottom of the pile so she and Geralt can't slink off in the middle of the night bc Geralt got too broody and wanted to be Noble and Self-Sacrificing and Not Endanger His Pals

I also think it's really funny to imagine Cahir staring into a campfire, thinking about things, and then out of the blue he says something like "Does anyone else think it's a little strange we all have wolf-shaped daemons? That seems... weirdly serendipitous." and the rest of the hansa looks at each other for a moment. and then they're all simultaneously like "uh. no? not even a little, wtf are you on about" and he drops the subject forever

Geralt's daemon is this beautiful, gloriously fluffy white wolf, BUT she is very much the smallest of their patchwork pack. She is always brushed and clean and groomed and her ears are small and kind of rounded. She's dangerously close to adorably cute. which drives both her and Geralt nuts because they're supposed to be Big Fierce Scary Monster Hunters. But it also means that sometimes kids' daemons will approach her out of curiosity in villages where they don't get visitors very often and then skitter back, terrified, when they realize she's a witcher's daemon

the rest of the hansa's daemons joke among themselves on the reg that they have to Protect The Sweet Leetle Baby At All Costs, which makes Geralt want to commit arson

Dandelion's daemon is a gangly, rangy, feral-looking, patchy brown she-wolf that he absolutely adores. He loves her so fucking much and won't hear a word said against her. Just think she hangs the moon or whatever. It drives him batshit insane whenever people confuse his perfect beautiful goddess of a daemon for Geralt's. (Because lbr, it's very easy for the average person to assume that the scruffy, flea-bitten wolf daemon belongs to the scruffy, flea-bitten witcher) In this universe, Dandelion starts up the whole White Wolf schtick bc he's sick and tired of random townspeople confusing his beautiful sweet perfect darling with Geralt's daemon when they travel together

Milva's daemon has no problem going after Geralt's daemon when she and Geralt are in a Mood. He doesn't hesitate to nip at her, or lick at her, or straight up sit on her, mostly because his tolerance for sulky brooding is much lower than Milva's. And her tolerance for that type of nonsense is already pretty damn low. Her daemon would rather get the pity parties over with ASAP and doesn't mind speeding the process along however he sees fit

He kind of freaks Geralt & his daemon out at first, bc no one's daemons (with a precious few exceptions, like Dandelion/maybe the other wolf witchers/Yen) have any interest in getting close to a witcher's daemon.

Angoulême's daemon is the biggest of the bunch. He's a scary-looking boy. All big muscle and coarse fur and gravely growling. He radiates "no NOT fuck with me." But he's also a huge goof and extremely playful in a very wolfy way when he and Angoulême let their guard down. A literal giant puppy. He takes to the little pack immediately. The first night Angouleme was with the rest of the hansa, he dropped his fat ass on top of the daemon cuddle puddle without asking and made himself comfortable. He snores when he sleeps on his back. Angouleme's pack of boyfriends in Toussaint think he's hot shit. He and Angoulême bicker pretty frequently and have a whole array of rude names they call each other. But for as often and as publicly as they fight, they rarely don't make up within a day. (He settled at a much younger age than most people)

Higher vampires didn't have daemons until after the Conjunction, and even then not all higher vampires wound up with daemons at all. Regis and his daemon don't know what to do with each other at first. Regis misses being able to fly sometimes, but he's v fond of his daemon and wouldn't trade her for anything. But she's terrifying to regular humans, and has been mistaken for a shuck or a grim when they weren't careful. She can kinda sorta change her shape a little to make herself less scary, but if she does it for too long, it gets uncomfortable for both her and Regis in an itchy sort of way

Geralt learns first hand that the idea you can identify a higher vampire by all their canon traits AND their lack of a daemon is wrong in about 95% of cases

Other daemons don't think she looks scary for some reason. They get kind of confused when their humans get freaked out by her. it's a vampire thing

Cahir's daemon is officially recorded as being "high percentage wolfdog." wolf daemons are outright banned from miliatary service bc of "a high incidence of unpredictable, disloyal conduct." It cost Cahir's family a boatload of money for the seal on that document, but the worse part is that anyone who looks at his daemon for more than 3 seconds can tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that there's no dog anywhere in her. No one seriously questions it though (at first)

(Bonus)

Yen's raven daemon tends to be a bit standoffish, but that has more to do with the fact he's a raven and ravens aren't usually interested in slobbery roughhousing. He will admit this to exactly no one, not even Yen herself, but he likes to privately imagine Geralt's daemon's long winter coat is feathers so he can pretend he's grooming her properly

[chaos-monkeyy]

Tracks in the snow

Winter Prompt Challenge ❄️ Day 8: Tracks in the snow 

The prompt worked so well for a title, I kept it 😅 Oh yeah, also, this is an angsty ficlet for Geraskier today, fair warning...

The tags on AO3 are:  Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Angst, Fear, Elements of Horror, Ambiguous/Open Ending. 

Jaskier woke up with a sneeze to a deserted campsite. 

He didn’t realize he was alone, at first. It was still dark, the moon bright and full in a starry sky and a light dusting of fresh, fluffy snow covering the campsite. He blearily scrubbed at his face, wiping away the melting snow that was tickling his skin with little wet droplets of early winter cold, and was just rolling over with a huff to yank his hood up and snuggle down farther in his and Geralt’s thick, fur-lined double bedroll when he realized— 

Geralt was gone, his space in their shared bed empty and chill. 

Jaskier frowned, sitting up to peer around and blinking further awake as little curl of fear wormed through his gut. Geralt had been acting odd— odder than usual— ever since the hunt two days before, but it still wasn’t like him to just disappear without a word, and… Jaskier finally woke up enough to realize why he was so uneasy. 

He couldn’t see Roach, either. She had been right there when he’d gone to sleep, they both had been; the horse and her witcher as well. 

“G- Geralt?” Jaskier called quietly. He waited, tense; but there was no answer. Swallowing nervously, he crept out of bed and went to investigate. He was no expert tracker, but after years of hanging around with a witcher he’d picked up a few things here and there. As far as he could tell, Geralt hadn’t ridden away; in fact, he and Roach appeared to have gone in almost opposite directions. 

Which was… weird. 

Jaskier chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. He knew he should probably wait there where he had the fire, and all their supplies— whatever Geralt was up to, he hadn’t taken those, at least. 

A thought suddenly occurring to him as he looked around the empty camp again, Jaskier hurried back to their bedroll, kicking the furs aside to find— 

Geralt’s swords, sheathed and tucked under the witcher’s side where he always kept them close at hand while he slept. 

Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat and sped up, thudding uncomfortably quickly in his chest. Geralt never left his swords behind. Anywhere. 

After a moment of nervous consideration, Jaskier tucked the heavier of the two swords back under the bedroll. Hefting the other in both hands, he determinedly slung it across his back; then dug out a lantern, lit it off the embers of their fire, and set out into the night following Geralt’s tracks through the snow. 

He nearly lost the trail more than once as Geralt’s path wove through the trees and across the occasional bare patch of ground. It got easier as the trees thinned, but… to Jaskier’s growing unease, the witcher’s tracks were getting… more erratic, and once or twice he even passed what looked like places where Geralt had actually stumbled and fallen to his hands and knees before continuing. 

A wolf howled somewhere in the distance, and Jaskier jumped, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He’d never been out in the wilds like this alone, never without Geralt nearby, or at the very least holed up somewhere the witcher had gruffly told him he’d be safe so long as he stayed put. Jaskier nearly turned to head back to the deserted camp then and there to wait for Geralt to come back— but then howl came again. From behind him. From the direction he’d come in. 

If he turned back… he’d just be heading towards it. 

Breathing hard, tamping desperately down on the choking tendrils of fear crawling up his throat, Jaskier pushed on. Breaking into a half jog and forcing himself not to yell Geralt’s name in a panic, not wanting to risk drawing anything else’s attention, he followed Geralt’s tracks out past what was left of the sparse treeline and up onto a snow-covered plateau, the dead, long grasses catching at his feet and ankles and threatening to trip him with every rushed stride. 

The howl came again, closer, and Jaskier whimpered, panting, glancing down as he ran faster. He could still make out Geralt’s bootprints, going in a straight line now— the witcher had been running, too. Jaskier had no idea why, but if he could just find Geralt, catch him up, then everything would be fine, it had to be. But… Something was wrong. Geralt’s footprints were changing; the shape was all wrong and the spacing was strangely uneven and there were suddenly too many of them, somehow. 

Without warning, Jaskier tripped over something too solid to be grass and too soft to be a rock. His lantern went flying and he slammed to the ground, hard, with a bitten-off cry at the pain that lanced up through his arm. He lay there stunned for a split second before scrambling forward— and froze in a crouch, still on his hands and knees, staring in shock at the trail of footprints he’d followed all the way from camp. 

Because he wasn’t following footprints anymore. 

He was following paw prints. Enormous, clawed, paw prints. 

The crunch of fresh snow and the low, menacing growl came from close behind him; too close, the sound turning Jaskier’s blood to ice and freezing his breath in his lungs. Trembling, afraid to look but even more afraid not to, he slowly turned and lifted his gaze from the tracks in the snow. 

Somewhat incongruously, the first thing he noticed was the boot he’d tripped over. Geralt’s boot, lying in the snow a pace away, the blackened leather tattered and shredded and the silver buckle glinting in the cold blue light of the full moon. The second thing he noticed, a few paces beyond the boot, was the massive, white wolf stalking slowly towards him; whiter even than the snow itself, with fangs that were bared in a snarl and eyes that shone yellow in the darkness. 

Jaskier couldn’t breathe; couldn’t move, despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to run, flee, hide, as the wolf prowled closer step by step. Its low rumble filled the air, getting louder and louder, vibrating right down to Jaskier’s bones and turning his guts to water. 

He remembered, too late, the sword he had strapped uselessly to his back— and then, as the wolf got close enough for Jaskier to feel the powerful heat of its breath, misting out in clouds in the frigid air… he saw it, a half-circle of glinting metal peeking out from white fur. 

A silver medallion. Trapped around the beast’s neck. Jaskier heard his own whisper as though it was coming from someone else’s lips. 

“G- Geralt?”

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 01

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, allusion to anxiety

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Next chapter

Masterlist

There is nothing quite like visiting a bookshop on a rainy autumn day, walking the pavements that will soon deepen in their shade of grey as the scarlet and burnt orange leaves will be decorated with tiny watery crystals. The fierce wind preludes to the sorrow of the gloomy clouds overhead, the chill creeping beneath the navy trenchcoat cooling the little skin bared by a simple ink black V-neck shirt. Caffeinated bordeaux sneakers hasten their step when leaving the district ruled by busy city life and entering the artisans district on the east side of town, where the boroughs are ruled by artists, individual shops, cafés and independent bookstores that each have their own vibe.

For a while now, a specific one has yet to be visited, intending to drop by ever since that long walk that lead through many a cobblestone street lined with brownstone houses and not a single business anywhere in sight. Except for Paper Souls, a hidden gem tucked away at the edge of the area where homes and commerce just meet and have resulted in a small store disguised as a proper worker’s house. As can be judged from the window display, the shop sells both well-known titles alongside more obscure ones, bound in editions fresh from the press and those having lived a ready life on someone’s shelves.

A second before the first tears of the heavens fall and make their presence known by ticking against the window, the bookstore is entered with a low sigh of delight. Nothing comes remotely close to the distinct scent of books, this specific combination of mustiness and ink laced with the fragrance of the weather outside and perfumes of customers. Or, in this case, solely the owner’s.

Here and there, a rumour about the man ruling the paper kingdom has been picked up and it is safe to say not all have been positive. A subject that has been frequently touched upon, oft causing more of a stir than the overall intimidating attitude, are the differently coloured eyes. One brown like hazelnuts at the end of the year and the other as blue as the ocean far outside the harbour.

The ones belonging to long blonde locks with dark roots looking up from the current read behind the counter and which are briefly met with a polite nod and casual greeting. At least one aspect of the groundless gossip is true because the disgruntled stoicism on the handsome face acknowledging the professional meaningless acquaintance silently makes the heart race and constricts the throat. It awakens the need to run and hide somewhere among the chestnut shelves, become a character in a tale so as to vanish and thus avoid upsetting the clerk by merely being present. Which might be the biggest problem, considering today’s goal of staying inside and spend it as is habitually done.

Don’t be silly. Just find a book and settle down somewhere to read a few pages. As long as you’re quiet, nothing’s gonna happen.

Thus, mayhaps repeating the self-chastisement once or twice, the creaking worn floorboards are walked upon as ghostlike as possible though every step makes the Body cringe due to the loudness disturbing the silence. 

And him.

The young man whose gaze is momentarily met before fleeing to the vintage couch in an incline with a gorgeous Penguin hardcover copy of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, which has been found in the poetry section across from the counter. Breath was held while standing on the tips of the toes while reaching for the thin volume on one of the highest shelves, hoping to not attract attention and refusing to use one of the nearby dark-wooden stools to climb atop because such acrobatics would likely not sit well with the person causing the hairs at the back of the neck to stand on edge.

A sigh of relief cannot be helped when loosening the buttons of the trenchcoat and tossing it over the arm rest before snuggling up in the corner of the sofa. Finally a moment devoid of stress, a chance to be carried off by the works of a beloved poet and artist embodying the truth of childhood and adulthood.

But being brought back all too soon from criticism on the corrupt Catholic Church by the oppressive presence of loose ripped jeans which are perceived just above the edge of the mustard cover. Despite being barely able to gather the courage to look away from the page, lashes nevertheless look up to hands tucked into denim pockets and non-matching irises peering down. Curiously, though it is also alarming, the gaze from above is awkward as if unsettled by the mere presence of a well-meaning bookworm which confirms the assumption about being a nuisance.

Although, the paradoxically misplaced inquiry spoken in a husky voice undermines the deduction. The lowering of broad shoulders does too, allowing personal defenses to waver a bit in the pursuit of kindness. ‘’How do you like your coffee?’’

Bewildered yet finding no clear reason for the kind question in the stoicism of two-toned locks, the simple reflex of asking for a repeat is acted upon with a sheepish tongue that does not know what to make of the situation. ‘’Sorry, what?’’

‘’Coffee. How do you drink yours?’’ A gruff slightly chubby thumb points toward the door, the glass decorated with autumnal tears. ‘’It might be raining, but I still need caffeine. Figured I might as well buy you something too. So, what should I get?’’

What do I do? Do I accept the offer? I mean, he offered it, but declining would still be polite. Then again, it’s free coffee.

‘’Oh, uhm, that’s very sweet of you.’’ The bundle is put down in the lap, flabbergasted shy hands tucked between the thighs while trying to stay as small as possible. It is a silly instinct, but the closeness of the intimidating bookshop clerk calls for it. Moreover, the deep slightly hoarse tone that sounds both as if still recovering from something and being exhausted with the world does not make matters better. 

However, albeit for a split second that is not credible enough, little will-o-the-wisps illuminate the entrancing wildness of an ocean and hazelnut forest as a quicksilver smile flashes over roseate lips. A beautiful fleeting sight which might never have arisen from the solemnity resting like a mask on the youth’s face.

A daydream.

Indeed, surely that is what it must have been. What other reason could there be to show a sign of being pleased with someone who does not feel particularly welcome and at ease in this paper kingdom?

Led astray by the unfocused train of thought, distracted by what may or may not have been witnessed, the actual answer comes out on a mumble. All the while boldly looking back, wondering. ‘’An iced vanilla latte... would be nice.’’

Acknowledging the order with a mere low rumble similar to a wolf’s, the clerk sets off on a caffeinated journey and leaves an affected soul behind. 

While still being highly uncomfortable with the lad’s presence, the thought of what just happened and the offer of a drink that was not in the slightest reluctant imprints a warm impression on a racing heart. Yet, before any ungrounded fantasies arise, the poetry bundle is quickly picked up again and later exchanged for a thick volume of Keats’s poetry that has been picked up in a rush to seemingly have never moved from the leather couch. To not leave a single trace of chaos which might trigger the wrath of the bookshop keeper and perhaps end up in being drenched by cold coffee. 

All the fear is evidently in vain because, when being once again engrossed by poetry, the ghost of a touch over the cheekbone breaks the spell. As if awakening from a dream, the suggestion of the outstretched cold drink passes unnoticed. Instead, it is replaced by a look at ripped jeans beneath a loose tartan blazer, resulting in the novel discovery of a little gem embedded in the right nostril. 

The rattle of ice entrapped in plastic fully awakens the senses as well as the sharp rustle of a paper bag bearing the logo shaped like an apple out of which a bite has been taken. ‘’Here. It’s on me. Don’t think anything of it, I just don’t want you to get dehydrated or hungry.’’

‘’Right.’’ With trembling hands expecting to have the food carelessly thrown into the lap and drink pushed into the palm, the surprising meal is accepted. Without the slightest sign of pushing. ‘’Still, thanks.’’

Once again, a beastly grunt is all that is received in return before checkered trainers retreat to the front of the establishment. Strangely, they soon return with the current read which was enjoyed behind the counter alongside the cold brew that was picked up to battle the fatigue that noticeably laces demeanour. Because, when sinking back into the sofa after having been gestured at to scoot over and haphazardly making room, lashes flutter shut for longer than a mere blink. Notwithstanding, they are awake enough to notice the shift in reading. ‘’Keats?’’

‘’Uh, yes. He’s one of my favorites alongside Blake, Donne and, on occasion, Wordsworth.’’ Personal enthusiasm takes over when mentioning the last poet with whom there is a love-hate relationship, erasing any anguish at being close to the keeper of the kingdom and thus making it possible to ignore the few centimeters of space between bodies. ‘’Even though he’s basically a fraud by turning his sister’s experiences into poetry. It makes one wonder whether he had any talent to come up with something himself. Now, I do believe some of his works are genuinely his, but not all. Sorry, I’ll- I’ll shut up.’’

Questioning chestnut and water reintroduce the silence disturbed by autumnal rain accompanied by howling winds, stretching out over the empty streets. Nobody likes a blathering fool, least of all the stoic who surprisingly has decided to join one’s company. 

Or, so was the original thought that is now nullified by a sliver of a smile and something inaudible smokily mumbled beneath breath. There is no courage to inquire about what was said nor ask for a reason for being evidently entertained, simply rapidly picking up the volume again to resume reading with an overheated, ashamed mind.

Here and there, however, sneaky peeks are thrown in the direction of bleached locks thoroughly enjoying Dante’s Inferno, a work that has been on the to-be-read list for the longest time and somehow has never been crossed off.

Come on, you can do it. Ask him how it is, whether he likes Dante. Don’t be a marshmallow. Okay, one, two... fuck.

‘’How’s Keats?’’ Beating the barely daring tongue to it, the young man interrupts the hardly focused enjoyment of poetry that maybe lasted about fifteen minutes.

‘’Good.’’ More wants to be added to the opinion, but cannot be shaped nor voiced due to the bafflement at seeing sincere interest pierce through an unwavering expression. On the other hand, another unnameable sentiment underlines attitude too, floating ever so slightly beneath the surface. 

‘’You haven’t touched your food.’’ Lips slightly pout when glancing at the paper bag that rests on the trenchcoat that had hastily been draped over the other arm rest when bleached locks sat down, colourful irises dimming. 

Worry.

Why does it affect him? What does it matter if I eat or not?

To hopefully grant a bit of reassurance, an absent-minded promise is made before diving back into the misery of a nightingale. ‘’I’ll eat in a bit. Just one more poem.’’

As fast as lightning, the volume flies from hapless palms and the scent of books mingled with musky mint suddenly leans over to grab the purchased treat, fingertips pressing against the side of the thigh. Every muscle tenses up at the new form of intimacy, inwardly praying for the tartan blazer to return to his place as soon as possible. ‘’No, it’s already two o’clock and I’m sure you had breakfast early. You should eat. Where’s your coffee?’’

A trembling finger points to the untouched iced vanilla latte on the floor, put just in front of the sofa. Hands rise even higher when the bookshop keeper’s heartbeat and heated broad chest can be temporarily felt when slightly chubby digits lean over to grab the plastic cup. ‘’I’m not…’’

‘’What?’’ Clearly not understanding the need to keep looking away, unsteadily focusing on the sides of the nearest bookshelf, the question comes out agitated as the retrieved items are pushed forward, unmistakably intended to be taken. The shift in behaviour is as little comprehensible as the likely appearance of warm rosy cheeks going paired with a fist pressing on the lips, tongue-tied.

Mentally chastising oneself for the awkward display, courage is forcibly gathered to face the puzzled grumpy young man and answer with a whisper. ‘’I’m not comfortable eating in public.’’

‘’We’re not in public.’’

‘’Or with people I don’t know.’’

This revelation is clearly unexpected, eyes widening when reluctantly elaborating on an irrational fear with folded hands tucked between the thighs. For a second, there is nothing but an uncomfortable hush in which the worst outcome is vividly painted in the mind. Fortunately and oddly, it is broken as the stoic’s attitude shifts to something that has not been witnessed before and which goes against any rumour floating around town. 

A gentle smile plays around the corners of the mouth as the tense grip on the food and drink loosens, gently putting the rustling bag in the lap and a warm palm grabbing one hand to place the lukewarm cup in it. ‘’There. I’m Jaebeom, JB for short. Now, can you please eat something? And I promise I won’t judge you.’’

‘’Shouldn’t- Shouldn’t you eat something too? You look like you could use some energy.’’ Up close, the fatigue has become visibly noticeable outside the moment of sitting down and closing eyes for a little bit longer than would suffice for a blink. Affected by the niceness of the gentle acquaintance and thoughtfulness, the croissant in the bag is torn in half to offer a part to the current company. ‘’How about we share this?’’

‘’You don’t have to.’’ A low breathy chuckle rolls forth at the gesture, strangely elating the heart and stirring up a storm of butterflies in the stomach. Again, the same unintelligible phrase that was muttered under breath earlier seems to be repeated.

A penny for your thoughts. What did you say?

Putting aside curiosity to not prematurely cross any boundaries of politeness, what wants to be asked is suppressed and reformed into a request for sharing. After all, the lack of energy outlined by vague dark circles beneath non-matching irises is truly a cause for concern. ‘’Please? I don’t have that big of an appetite.’’

With a resigning sigh, the offer is accepted. Much to the strange delight of the soul who still is not entirely trusting of the bookshop keeper yet already has the mental defenses down a little bit more than before. ‘’Alright, if you insist.’’

What follows is an absolutely adorable though also surprising scenario as the pastry is enjoyed in one bite, the food disappearing without any trouble. Nibbling on the other half, staring cannot be helped as a sip of coldbrew is enjoyed to wash the treat down. However, the unintended impolite mannerism, of course, cannot pass under the radar. Hence is why dark brows furrow in puzzlement when remarking upon being a point of attention. ‘’What?’’

‘’Nothing. You just…’’ a moment is taken to try and find the right word yet failing to think of one which accurately describes the eating manner, ‘’you just wolfed that down.’’

‘’Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I can be a bit, well, unmannered at times.’’ The gaze focusing on the iced black coffee adds to the sorrowful side profile, unwillingly nostalgic, but unapproachable for comfort. ‘’I try not to be. I’m trying to, no, never mind.’’ Another sip. ‘’Forget it. Just eat and stay as long as you like.’’

‘’Jaebeom?’’ In a reflex, after swiftly wiping fatty fingertips on the coarse paper napkin, the bookshop keeper is grabbed by the sleeve as he tries to move away. Alarmed by the sudden bold move, non-matching irises briefly flare with an odd mixture of fear and annoyance before seemingly realizing something and thus calming down. All this goes hidden behind a badly enacted tolerating low hum. ‘’Can you, I mean, only if you don’t mind, could you... could you stay here? For a little while? At least sit down for a few more minutes. I promise I won’t stare as I did and actually read.’’

‘’You want me to... stay?’’ Dark brows furrow in a strange confusion, uncomprehending of the normal request. Although, perhaps it is not so casual seeing as it needs to be thought about. ‘’Stay? Here?’’

‘’If you don’t mind? I’m sorry if I freaked you out, I really didn’t mean to.’’

‘’You didn’t. I should be the one apologizing for being so distant.’’

‘’I don’t blame you. You barely know me.’’

‘’I don’t know you.’’ The observation hits hard, the sternness of the reply crucifying the heart and constricting the throat. How odd a fact should have this result. Withal, the misplaced hurt is a little soothed by the promise that follows. ‘’I’ll stay. But I’ll be closing in about two hours.’’

And thus, for one hour and a half, the paper kingdom falls quiet. Solely the tinkering tears of heaven decorating the glass of the windows, howling winds stirring the richly warm leaves into dance and occasional wandering lonely umbrella break the silence. Inside, the only noise to disrupt the hush is the turn of a page or sniffle that may or may not prelude to a cold. 

However, all tranquil beauty knows an end for Time always runs out. Henceforth, it is at half past four that a light tap goes paired with the barely audible comment “you have to go”. Likely due to the aftermath of being pulled from a world of poetic Nature into gloomy Reality, there is a wrong perception of Jaebeom’s voice. Surely, the sorrowful reluctance is imagined.

As you said, you don’t know me.

The mere thought pains Body and Soul when grabbing the navy trenchcoat off of the faux leather arm rest, stepping towards the bookshelf where Keats was found and the exit afterwards. No chance of wandering a little longer between the books is given, the clerk following closely behind and unconsciously guiding feet towards the entrance.

‘’Y/N? Will you, uh…’’ Restless trembling palms hover in the air like two bent paws failing to illustrate something, a rosy flush spread over the cheeks, ‘’Can I put your jacket on? I mean, let me help you put your jacket on. That’s how you say it, right?’’

With an affirming hum, big palms with slightly chubby digits are allowed to help dress into the piece of clothing.

Glide over the side of the neck when collecting hair to make it flow over the collar instead of being tucked beneath it, leaving a trail of goosebumps and sharpening breath. 

All the while maintaining eye contact, both our faces distorting with timidity. It is then that glances are haphazardly thrown around the empty store to avoid each other for a second wherein composure is hopefully found. 

And it would appear that the buff tall blonde youth is the first to do so, speech matter-of-factly when voicing an unspoken suggestion while holding on to the upper arms. ‘’I haven’t even asked your name.’’

Bashfully, the answer is uttered in a proper vis-á-vis with entrancing two-toned irises though the urge to bolt out the door remains. Nevertheless, the rapid loss of contact is disliked, JB realizing how the intimacy might come across when glancing at the fingertips digging into fabric, almost begging to stay. ‘’It’s Y/N.’’

The instinct to flee is lessened by the step forward thoughtfully repeating the name, carefully feeling out the syllables as if comprehending a siren’s song. ‘’I had a good time, Y/N.’’

‘’Me too.’’ It is true because, despite the distance that was endeavoured to be closed with food, reading and shallow conversation, the time spent together was actually quite enjoyable. Notwithstanding, too much of the clerk remains unknown to say whether all has been out of politeness or if any sincere trust has been shown.

‘’Even though you’re still scared of me?’’

‘’I’m not!’’ A sigh rolls off the tongue at the sight of a smug grin on roseate lips knowing better than to lie about genuine sentiments. ‘You’re just... just kinda intimidating.’

‘’Kinda? To me it seems like a whole lot more than ‘just kinda’. You almost seem eager to go even though you were hesitating earlier.’’ Bright hazelnut and the summer sea are overcast by lonely grief putting on the airs of suppressed rage, painfully re-establishing and enhancing the distance that was briefly shortened with a step backwards. ‘’To get away from me. Make up your mind.’’

‘’Yes, I’m intimidated by you. A lot.’’ The renewed cold emptiness is warily bridged, planning out the words to say to not make matters worse. ‘’And, to be honest, I don’t want to go. Still, it’s because you intimidate me I might seem uneasy and glad to go, but I can assure you I’m not. I really had a good time. We might not have talked a lot, but I still had a splendid afternoon. With you. And for that, I’m grateful. I’m sorry I confuse you, make you feel awkward because of my behaviour.’’

The waterfall of a confession catches the bookshop keeper off guard, but also manages to make tense broad shoulders lower their defenses as colourful eyes calm down. Digits rise from the pockets of loose ripped jeans to envelop the upper arms once more, this time rubbing them reassuringly and let the personal walls crumble too. ‘You don’t have to be afraid of me nor apologize. Look, we’ll talk about this another time. For now, you have to go and I have to close the shop. Get home safely and don’t catch a cold.’

‘’You too.’’ 

‘’Don’t worry. I won’t.’’

With a last nod and gentle smile relieved at the prospect of good health, warm palms are stepped away from.

The watery autumn chill cools the heat from being seen off by blonde locks.

I couldn’t get sick even if I wanted to.

When the enchanting scent of summer citrus, autumnal blackberries and juicy peaches has faded, the two volumes that were touched by it are picked from the shelves without a clear understanding of why. Neither is there a sense of comprehension when it comes to the sheer curiosity about what it is that the adorable shy doe so likes about these specific poets. Notwithstanding, both books are picked up and put on the counter alongside the current read to take upstairs after sweeping and properly closing the shop.

Which does not take long, soon after already stumbling up the metal stairs to the apartment above the establishment with a famished stomach and tense muscles, watching the oppressive concrete clouds slightly give way to the lilac dusk before heading inside. Fortunately, dinner has been prepared in advance so the various side dishes solely need to be warmed up in the microwave just like the rice in the cooker. The hair dye job, however, will have to wait until tomorrow. That is, if it is remembered like the face of the local historian who seems awfully fascinated by the affliction distorting identity.

Shedding off the weight of the day, clothes are removed and tossed on the couch to be replaced by the bathrobe that was put there in the morning after yet another long night filled with amnesia. Afterwards, bare feet trod to the kitchen to retrieve the cold dishes from the refrigerator and put them in the microwave to heat up. 

It’s getting late, but at least there’s still some time to read. Funny how my last thought is of you.

Just as the melancholic thought arises over a big bowl of bibimbap accompanied by William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, the screen of the phone on the counter lights up after a brief buzz. When getting up to check, the message appears to be from the supernatural scholar.

“Good luck tonight. I’ll be at your place around 7. Hopefully, you’ll be yourself again. If not, I’ll wait outside. Jinyoung.”

As always, the text is signed with the young man’s name to help ease the recovery of ever-fading memory. Even after living around three years among humans again, the ability to recall actual names alongside how to enact civilized behaviour remains hard.

And becomes more difficult with every passing day.

For now, I want to try. I want to speak to you at least one more time and explain myself. Part ways on good terms, let you know what I am.

A smile cannot be helped at the sight of the bowl next to the mustard poetry bundle, vividly re-imagining how it was held by small hands on the faux leather sofa this afternoon. 

How those same tiny digits tore off half of the croissant without hesitation and offered it to an animal, nibbling adorably on theirs while endeavouring to put on a human act and failing due to the hunger always preceding hell.

But a fantasy never lasts.

Time never stops. 

It solely ticks.

Runs out.

Hopefully, I’ll remember you.

And the moon cannot be sworn by for She cannot stay away nor remain the same. 

That night, the name of the bookish fawn is the last powerful word to recall before losing a grip on the world in the cold dark illuminated by artificial light. 

Naked and shackled beneath the concrete ground.

Hoping for a memory. 

Y/N.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #425

“evolution repressed by our backwards contest  /  breeding our torrential demise as we come to this edge”

Serious question, peanut butter or nutella? I think Nutella is a godsend, but I use peanut butter waaaaay more often. We don't even really buy Nutella because I will destroy the jar. Do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? Baked. What is your oldest sibling’s middle name? Kathryn. I think. Do you like breadsticks? I just like bread, man. What are your favorite things to spend money on? Tattoos, uuuuugggghhhhh <3 Which would you rather have a new puppy or kitten? Neither, really. Most puppies drive me insane (even though they're cute as everliving fuck), and I don't want another cat. Mom actually talked about getting another, but I really just want my one boy. Roman would get SO jealous, anyway. I enjoy just having my baby. How old will you be on your next birthday? 26. Yikes. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? As "the fat one," I can be sometimes. I would say though that more often than not, it's sort of whatever to me because I'm a human that has to eat. When you opened your eyes this morning, what were your first thoughts? I thought I slept way later than I actually did. What is one thing in the room you’re in that reminds you of somebody? My stuffed meerkat Rebel. Jason got it for me for my first birthday that we were together. Could you ever be friends with somebody who was homophobic? Never again. I was once able to think "agree to disagree," but sometimes by doing so, you're siding with evil by not enforcing what is more than just a belief. It should come with being a human. Also given my own sexuality, it would be a slap in the face to me. Would you ever want to be a supermodel, or date one? Hell no. I'd date one though, if they were modest about their position. Honestly, have you ever made fun of somebody so bad they cried? Wow, no. Honestly, would you rather be complimented on your looks or intelligence? Quite frankly, nowadays, my appearance. I need it. My self-confidence is so far below "shit." Have you ever purchased a pregnancy test, for yourself or otherwise? Nope. You can get one thing, anything, for free right now. What do you pick? Why? Hm. I know I talk about it a lot, but it would still probably be a 40 gallon terrarium for Venus. She needs - and deserves - it. Honestly, have you ever danced naked? NOOOOOOOO. What was the first illegal thing that you did? Did you get caught? Downloaded music. My mom eventually found out, but didn't care much. What is the home page on the computer you’re on? Google. Do you like to write poetry? I do, but I haven't done it in a while. :/ Are your ears pierced? Yes. If so, were they pierced with a piercing gun, or with a sterile needle? Piercing gun. Which, by the way, do not do. There are many more risks with a piercing gun versus a needle by a professional. Do you wear makeup regularly? I never do. Did you eat cereal for breakfast today? No. I've been on a bagel kick lately. When was the last time you tripped over something? Last night, actually. The rug in the living room was slightly turned up, and I tripped in the dark. I didn't actually fall, thankfully. Any obsessive-compulsive tendencies? I'm diagnosed with OCD. I experience more ruminations and intrusive thoughts more than obsessive behaviors, though. Who was the last person you yelled at? Probably Mom. Why did you yell at them? I don't remember. Favorite type of apple? I like pink lady apples. I really enjoy any, so long as they're crisp. Ever seen live horse racing? No. To be totally honest, I don't really like the concept of it. Motivating a horse to run by hurting it doesn't exactly seem moral... How about live greyhound racing? No. What’s one thing, besides the obvious, that you couldn’t live without? The Internet, haha. Have you ever touched a giraffe? No. What does your mom call you? Britt. What stresses you out the most in life? I really don't think I could pick a top one. There are so many. Do you play any PC games? What is your favorite? Yeah. Y'all probably know WoW is my favorite. If you were pregnant, how would you tell the father? Well, that would depend on the circumstances. Did we want a baby? Was it a bad surprise, a happy surprise? I can't answer this with just one idea. What’s the hardest level you can play on Guitar Hero? I used to be able to slam out Expert easily with only very few songs I had to play on Hard, but now it's been YEARS. I've played less than once in a blue moon, and my skill's definitely faded some. It really depends on the song. What ever happened with you and your first boyfriend? He couldn't handle my depression anymore. What’s your favorite country song? "When The Stars Go Blue" by Tim McGraw, probably. What is the worst thing a former boyfriend/girlfriend has done to you? Fail to communicate what he was feeling with me and then make a dashing break for it very, very abruptly after three and a half years. It put me past a state of shock, but trauma with how no less than obsessed I was with him. What were you for Halloween last year? I didn't dress up. :/ I wish I had the money and motivation alike to. Are you feeling guilty for something? I always will. Are you usually quiet or loud? Quiet. How many hours do you spend on the computer a day? Like... uh... all of them, oof. What is the show that you watched when you were little, and you still do? Meerkat Manor. Do your siblings text you? Not really. Do you want a small or big wedding? Small. Have you ever searched for your own house on Google Earth? Not the house I currently live in, but I have before. Who is your ex dating/talking to? I don't know. Ever kissed someone who smokes? No. Does it take a lot for someone to annoy you? Frankly, no. Do you own your own computer? This laptop, anyway. Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings? Yes, with my younger sister as a kid and pre-teen. What noises in the room you’re in, do you hear at the moment? I hear the video I'm watching, as well as my fan. Have you ever dated someone with longer hair than yours? Yes. What’s the biggest upcoming event for you? Nothing. Not like that's a surprise. What do you typically order from Wendy’s? Son of the Baconator. @_@ Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? No. Those are so awkward to me. What do you love most about yourself? I don't know these days. Have you ever received a hickey from the last person you kissed? No. What are you doing right now? This survey and re-watching John Wolfe play Outlast 2. What’s bothering you right now? I'm immensely nervous about tomorrow. I have my first (and I pray the fuck to God not only) session with my new personal trainer then, and I'm terrified by how my body and my mental fortitude is going to react. Y'all have no fucking idea JUST how out of shape I am, and the muscles in my legs seem basically non-existent by now. I have to do something about my health, though, and I'm determined to make this shit work. More than determined. I know the first day is going to be hard, but I need to do this more than I can explain. What was the last thing you drank? ... What great fucking timing, I have a can of Mountain Dew, lol... That's another thing that needs to change. I've gotta stop the emotional and boredom-eating and chill the fuck out with soda. Be honest, do you like people in general? Quite frankly, no. There are plenty of people I love and think are amazing, of course, but I think I lean towards humanity being too shitty to like "in general." Do you want your tongue pierced? I miss my snake eyes. :/ That was suuuuch a cute piercing. I just had to take it out for the safety of my teeth. I kept accidentally clamping down on one of the balls when eating, and it would cause tiny fractures. Do you change your phone background a lot? No. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Have you ever been strip searched? No. Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? It's not funny-sounding, no, I just think it's too manly for me to enjoy as part of my name. Ever have a drug overdose? What did you OD on exactly? Yes. Oddly enough, I don't remember what I OD'd on now... You'd think I would, given how extreme the situation was. It was some cold medicine. Do you get sick of people who call themselves bipolar all the time? I absolutely do. It's extremely insensitive to people like myself who legitimately suffer - and I do mean "suffer" - from the disorder. Describe your day so far in three words: Dull. Lazy. Anxious. What was the most stressful project you had so far/while in school? Probably my senior project and the presentation I had to do for it. I taught about the fallacies and misconceptions of snakes, and I made a PowerPoint and some drawings to color and crosswords for the special ed children. I was so, so very nervous, but I got through it fine and the kids seemed to enjoy it. I actually still have the recording. Choose one- Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: MILKY WAY. FUCK I love those. Have you ever stepped in dog poop? UGH yes. What was the last thing you spent money on? My niece's birthday present. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Is there a guy that knows a lot about you? I almost said "yes," but then I realized he doesn't know me at all anymore. I've changed so much, hopefully mostly for the better. He hasn't "known" me in many years. Is there someone you just can’t imagine your life without? It's terrifying to imagine my life without Mom; Sara, too. Do you prefer Starbucks coffee or small cafe coffee? I prefer no coffee. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah. Do you enjoy being outdoors? If it's cool outside and I have somewhere to sit that's not the ground, yes. Do people tell you that you have an accent? Sometimes. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? They're pretty, but I don't support their usage by this point in my life. They're a fire hazard, triggering to some vets with PTSD, and beyond terrifying for animals. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? I get most heated about child molestation. You do not fucking touch a child like that. I don't even write any of my bajillion evil guys committing it in RP because I just can't stomach it. Even when my little sister (a children's social worker) is telling Mom about some stuff she sees at work, I have to not be present, 'cuz that shit isn't rare. It's nauseating. Is there anyone you would take a bullet for? A good number of people, honestly. Do you enjoy tanning? Hell no, I avoid the sun and heat at like all costs. Are you a virgin? This is going to sound weird, but I actually don't know, but I lean towards no. Who’s your celebrity crush? mARK EDWARD FISCHFUCK Did or do you get good grades in English class? I was always excellent in English. What part of your body are you self-conscious about? My stomach. But I'm self-conscious about everything else, too. Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? No. Everyone knows I can't cook worth a damn. Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Truly close, no. Unless you include pets, actually. Then a few. :/ Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Yep. When was the last time you got a shot? Earlier this year for Covid. Get your fucking vaccine, btw. :^)

[peaceisadirtyword]

Camping trip (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: This anon probably hates me💔 I’m really sorry, I have some requests that wanted to post much sooner but I was afraid of doing them when I still had the writer’s block, because I would do something really bad, and you don’t deserve that... I did it now, though! Nothing special but I really hope y’all like it😘

Btw, I'm so sorry for being so annoying with the norse mythology... I’m reading a lot about it lately and I'm just in love with that culture💞

Warnings: fluff (an attempt), very little smut, Ragnar and... My writing?

Words: 1569

"The dead will rise, and Fenrir, the wolf, will release himself from the chains, and will run until he stands before the sun and the moon, and will eat both of them mercilessly... Yggdrasil will tremble, and the nine worlds will convulse" his voice was soft, low and intense in your ear, his breathing hit your neck, and it made your tremble and bit your lip "Jormungandr will come from the bottom of the sea, and will fight Thor, who will kill the serpent but also die right after, Odin will perish between Fenrir's jaws, and Tyr will also be eaten, but by Garmr, the dog of Hel, and will be able to stab the beast's heart from the inside" 

You jumped when suddenly he bit your neck, chuckling at your reaction. Then he kissed your cheek and leaned his head on yours again. 

"Your father told you these stories when you were a child?" You asked softly, a smile dancing on your lips. 

Ivar hummed, nodding. 

"Yes; my father, my mother, Floki... I always asked them to tell me how Ragnarok will be"

You turned around to look at his pendant, the one that hang from a lace around his neck with the shape of Mjölnir, Thor's hammer.

"Well, that explains a lot" you smirked, and Ivar rolled his eyes, though his lips curved upwards "But if we ever have children, I'd prefer you wait until they're old enough before telling them someday the dead will rise and all of that, I don't want them being psychos like their father"

Ivar raised an eyebrow and looked at you, amused, as you kissed his lips softly and turned around again, resting between his arms. 

It was nice, to relax on Ivar's arms, sitting on a fallen tree trunk with a small fire burning next to you, wrapped on a comfy blanket Ivar had packed for you -unlike him, you weren't viking and you actually felt the cold-, with no other sound than the soft breeze, some crickets and the crackle of the bonfire.

And Hvitserk snoring, inside one of the tents. 

The Lothbrok Anual Camping Weekend, as Ubbe called it, was one of the few non-religious traditions the Lothbroks actually followed. It had started when Ivar was little, when Ragnar had some free days and decided to take his sons for a weekend away, to spend some time with them. Ivar had confessed to you it used to be his favorite time of the year, as he loved to spend time with his father, and sometimes Floki joined them. They always drove away from the city, and stopped somewhere near the sea, far enough from the closest town. Ivar told you they would eat, drink and talk for hours, telling stories about the Gods, or sometimes remembering embarrassing things from when they were children. 

Ivar stopped liking the camping trip when Björn, Ubbe and Sigurd started bringing their respective girlfriends. Hvitserk brought a different girl each year, and it wasn't fun anymore when they were all making out. 

But this year he invited you. 

After some months dating, and after being completely sure his family wouldn't embarrass him too much in your presence -though you knew Hvitserk, with whom he lived, and that was probably the worst part-, he decided to introduce you to them. And then he invited you. 

He expected you to say no, maybe frown and press your lips together, thinking he was too much of a weirdo for inviting you to a camping trip with his father and brothers to tell stories about nordic mythology. 

But once again, you surprised him with an excited smile and a tight hug. 

"Should we go to sleep now?" He asked you softly, noticing your eyelids were heavier and you had relaxed even more against his body.  His fingertips had been caressing your arm, making you sleepy. 

You were the last ones sitting next to the fire. Ubbe, Margrethe and Hvitserk had gone to their tent just after Björn and Torvi left for theirs. Sigurd had stayed, playing guitar and dedicating some songs to his girlfriend, Blaeja, as Ragnar sat with Ivar and you, telling you stories about the trickster God, Loki.

Eventually, all of them went to sleep, but Ivar and you stayed a bit. You enjoyed looking at the stars as he told you his favorite; Ragnarok. He was excited while talking, eager to share his culture with you, and that warmed your heart. 

"I don't want to move" you muttered "It will be cold if we move"

Ivar chuckled. 

"It's not even cold, Y/N"

"Yes it is, it's freezing, I'm not a viking like you"

"You're more viking than you think" he smiled, kissing your temple "But we'll freeze if we stay here the whole night"

You whined in protest as his arms abandoned you. The cold breeze made you shiver. 

"Come on, let's go to the tent" Ivar chuckled as you stood up, taking his crutches so he could stand up. 

After pouring some water on the bonfire to extinguish it, you both crawled into the tent. Ivar left the crutches aside and grunted softly as he took off his braces. You shivered and hissed in cold as you changed into your comfy pajamas. You envied Torvi and Margrethe, who wore cute little pajamas that were too sexy to be warm, but they didn't seem to feel the cold either.

When Ivar finished taking off the braces and changing into his sleeping clothes (some sweatpants and a basic t-shirt) and turned around, you were already under the blankets, with your hair in a messy bun and shivering. 

He chuckled as he crawled to you, rolling his eyes when you whimpered in protest as he got under the blankets. Immediately, your arms went around his waist and your head leaned on his shoulder, sighing when you felt his warmth. 

"It's nice" you spoke after a few moments, making Ivar open his eyes to look at you "All of this. I was worried your family wouldn't like me, or something like that... Or that I would ruin the mood being the stranger"

Ivar scoffed. He was nearly sure his family liked you more than they liked him. 

"I'm glad you're enjoying it" he whispered "But please, stop saying nonsense, Hvitserk already adored you, and even Sigurd likes you" he rolled his eyes "And my dad"

You smiled. You already got along very well with Aslaug, and to know that Ragnar hadn't disliked you, knowing how much Ivar loved them, made you happy. 

"Thank you for inviting me" you moved your head to kiss his cheek "Though I'd recommend a warmer place to go camping next time" 

Ivar couldn't help but laugh softly.

"Come on, get some sleep" he whispered, sighing in pleasure when you pressed your body against his and closing his eyes. 

___________________________________

You woke up when the sun was still raising. The sudden bright and the warmth woke you up, wrapped on Ivar's arms and with your face hidden on his neck. You tried not to move too much to avoid waking him up, but instead you relaxed with your eyes opened, looking at Ivar's face, with your hands absentmindedly playing with the Mjölnir necklace that rested on his chest. You didn't know how you got so lucky to call that man your boyfriend, but it seemed unreal. When the sunlight started bothering him, he grunted and moved in his sleep, his hands now cupping your ass and pressing your body against his. 

Smirking softly, you brought your lips to his jaw, kissing his skin and traveling down to kiss his neck, easily finding his sweet spot. 

Ivar moaned, and woke up immediately. His gorgeous blue eyes opened slightly. 

"Good morning" you whispered, your lips against his skin.

"Yeah, good morning indeed" he moaned again.

Chuckling, you raised your head to kiss his lips. His hands gripped your ass even more and you smiled into the kiss, as Ivar pulled you on top of him. You cupped his face with your hands and deepened the kiss, while his surprisingly warm hands traveled under your shirt, caressing your waist and reaching your breasts. Moaning against his lips, you moved your hips against his. 

"You'll be the death of me, woman" Ivar was breathless as you broke the kiss and your lips travelled down his neck again. He was already hard, and just when your hands roamed down his body to reach the hem of his sweatpants, the entrance to the tent opened, and Ragnar's voice startled you.

"Dad!" Ivar scoffed, sitting up with you still on his lap. 

His head peeked out from the entrance; he had a playful smile on his lips.

"Sorry" he cleared his throat, though his smirk didn't show any regret. You blushed, hiding your face into Ivar's shoulder, embarrassed "Just wanted to tell you that breakfast is ready... And Hvitserk is awake, so I would hurry up... Now, I'm leaving" he chuckled "Enjoy"

"I can't believe him" Ivar sighed, rolling his eyes as his father closed the tent again "Gods, I'm sorry" 

"Don't worry" you chuckled, still blushing and thinking about how you were going to look at Ragnar in the eye from now on "Are you hungry?"

"Yes" Ivar shrugged, tilting his head with an innocent smile "But not for food, so... Take off your clothes, love"

______________________________________

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[synric-silversong]

Echoes

mentions: @synric-silversong​

@divergent-lines​      

There was a hint of humidity in the air with how heavy the buzz of bugs roared and the thick, heavy, foliage that seemed weighed down by an unseen force. Once, Jacorek had been here in these jungles. Once he had complained about something or the other, with people beside him, laughing, joking, walking side by side. Equals. Now those people were mere black shades in his memories. Memories that were beginning to grow heavy with nostalgia but never truly coming to fruition; to those memories there was only a sense of merriment, and disdain, and he assumed that part was due to the terrible weather conditions the jungle’s of Feralas could hold.

           The rocky path he had been following split ahead. Both directions were an easy path to take, but the signs of merchant wheels steered to the right.

A mercenary came to mind. ‘A silver-hair human-elf was walking with a merchant wagon. Pretty common knowledge actually. He’s been doing it for some time.’ 

           Jacorek smiled coarsely as he kept to the trail. The child of her memories would no longer be a child anymore, but he was certain key characteristics would not change. The trouble would be locating this child, now a man, in the current timeline. Such a dilemma had taken him only a single trip from Darkshire to Stormwind on his normal skim of bounties. Carefully, he checked names and verifyed unclaimed rewards, weighing his options, when a name was revealed to him in a shape of a man wanted for the murder of a civilian upon the docks many moons agon; Ronan Silversong. 

And it was unclaimed.

           Silversong. Jacorek could have laughed, he felt the feeling bubble in his chest. For having two intelligence mercenaries as parents, he’s quite dumb-witted.

            Jacorek’s mind returned to the forest before him. The road seemed to hardly change. Birds flittered above squawking in that awful high pitch scream. The bugs, the flies especially, seemed abnormally heavy, but the fires of his eyes and the dread cold that leaked from him kept them far from him; unlike other undead counterparts that lacked such mystical aura.  

           Now, he wondered, if the child had gone into the town with the merchants, and if so how would he be able to draw him out? Or if he even should. The poster of his bounty sat in his pocket, but as a few bounties had proven, current residents may still prove to be an issue. Especially if he’s liked. Especially if he’s escorting merchants to the city for no reward. 

So it would be better to draw him out. Should I wait for him outside after verifying his location. Do you have the time? 

           Jacorek stole in a deep breath. The sound alone had a calming effect, though it had nothing to still any sense of nerve or anticipation; though he felt like he could feel such a feeling. 

           His steps slowed as a new, different, sound that echoed from the forest. He listened, stretched out the thin strands of magic to feel, and he felt the loose touch of void magic reaching back. A small smile crept on his face.

Her memories had warned Jacorek of the child’s innate powers.

Off the paved road, Jacorek pushed aside tall foliage plants and hanging vines. The sound echoed again, a coo of a sort, mixed with a softer tone. A voice. Gentle and rumbling. A song.

The coo came again in a sort of harmony. The voice took on words, elvish from the sound of it. Jacorek leaned up against the large tree and peaked around the corner. A good distance away stood a man staring up into the canopy. His voice carried smoothly, singing in a low, gentle way.

The coo answered, as the man stopped singing, and an item began to fall from a tree. A rock? The man caught it, investigated it for a moment before stuffing it into a rather full satchel. The man began to hum this time as he walked a little further away.

Jacorek stepped from the shadows, “Synric Silversong?” He played as a question, but his voice echoed his amusement, his confidence, and Jacorek wasn’t overall upset with his failure for charms this time around.

The man froze, the humming stopped, as a subtle glance went over the shoulder. His hood clearly blocked his view. Jacorek stepped forward, and the man took a side-step backwards facing him more and reaching towards his hip.

A sword. It was hard not to notice the length of the blade case, yet Jacorek eyes traveled to the other side of the man’s hip. Two swords and something tied to his belt.

There was a long silence where neither moved. The man, dressed in green chain mail armor, could have been a statue or a ghost waiting to disappear from sight. It was quite impressive. Almost like a cat that had seen prey, or a deer uncertain if he should run from the wolf or stay still.

So, they stood there for a count of twenty seconds before the man answered him. “Who are you?”

No denial. “Jacorek…” he stepped forward. The man began to tense. “Blackwood.”

The whole of the man froze. Jacorek allowed himself the pleasure of a smirk as he snaked out his blade and charged. Too far away, of course, but that wasn’t the plan. The man rebounded slowly, giving Jacorek the few precious steps he needed to let his magic seep into the ground.

The man threw himself back, his sword arm began to rise, the faint hiss of metallic echoing from its slow release, and then freezing. Literally. Shackles of ice formed around the man’s wrist, then his feet, before at last at his throat where chains appeared out of thin air and dragged him down.

A thud echoed as Jacorek slowed his pace and casually walked the last few strides. He could already feel the boy’s dark power growing, lashing out. He smiled as a tendril of the raw magic slashed against his cheek. A surge of power rose around Jacorek and the next wash of raw magic clashed against his own shield reflecting lights of blues and greens. Around him, the grass wilted leaving a black, lifeless patch.

           Jacorek stretched his sword out, watching as the runes came to life as they meet the magic aura radiating and growing. With the tip of the blade, Jacorek pushed the hood past the man’s head. Too greet him, was a wicked canine snarl, deep green eyes staring at him filled with a hint of hatred masked by fear and desperation. And the key characteristic, white shining hair. “Silversong,” Jacorek mused, “Ironic.” He touched the blade to Synric’s head and watched as the hatred vanished into a cold fear.

           “I need you,” Jacorek said as he drew out a pair of shackles from behind his cloak. Those wide eyes of fear melted into something akin to dread as understanding struck. As a new wave of primal energy kicked into Synric, he thrashed and twisted. Jacorek poured a little more magic into the ice shackles; they harden, thickening and encased Synric’s now twitching muscles so he laid like some kind of trapped fish under a bird’s talon.

           The shackles clasped easily on him, and a coo echoed from above. Like before another object came falling down. Something shiny. Something sparkling. It was…familiar. A lizard? The creature disappeared underneath the foliage, and then nothing.

           As for Synric, he had shuddered and his eyes rolled back before going limp. Jacorek scoffed, letting the ice shackles fade from the boy’s body.

           There was a new silence in the forest. The bugs returned and the sound of birds began to fill the air. The rustle of leaves above shimmered down sparkles of light upon them both. Nothing more came, and so, Jacorek bent down, lifted Synric upon his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and began walking his way back to the road. With a better clearing, his mount would have plenty of room to land.

 “Time to meet your mother,” he chuckled as the jungle swallowed them up, leaving only a faintest howl echoing somewhere in the forest behind.

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Blood and Blade

Part Two of the All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series

For the Pick Two Challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld​

This is part two of an ongoing series I am writing. If you would like to be tagged, let me know.

Prompts:  Enemies to Lovers AU, and the dialogue “If you touch him/her/them, I’ll kill you.”

Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem! Irish! Reader, John Winchester, Crowley, Lucifer (mentioned), Charlie Bradbury, Sam Winchester

Wordcount: 2,602

Summary: Confronted by an unexpected face from your past, Dean demands the truth. An unlikely alliance is formed in the face of certain death, and unexpected secrets will be revealed.

Series Masterlist

            “Tell me everything, Y/N. Tell me the truth. Who are you really?” Dean demanded. You studied his emerald green eyes, measured their intensity, and gave a slow nod. “Fergus McLeod killed my parents when I was but a babe, and then slammed me into Hell as a punishment for inciting rebellion.” Dean frowned as you skirted past his question, but didn’t let his hard expression falter. “Why are you here?” Dean asked. “Not because of the King, not because of the labor camp, nor due to the contract. Why are you really here?” He added. You paled slightly. You had thought your carefully crafted exterior hid your ulterior motives, but somehow, this sharp-eyed, stubborn, and charming Prince had seen right through you. He knew. He knew the truth, he wanted to hear you say it. You set your shoulders back and raised your chin a notch, face a mask of unfeeling coldness, eyes as hard as diamonds. “I’m here to-”

                  You stopped, brows furrowed, a hand instinctively moving to your hip, grazing the thick grey cloth of your skirts. Dean’s head snapped to the door, neither of you daring to so much as breathe. You made eye contact, and a look of understanding passed between the two of you. Silence fell thickly outside the door to Dean’s private chambers, the shadow of someone’s boots pooling in the polished marble floors.

          The door slammed open, the force sending the finely crafted wood flying in splinters, and you had no time to think, only to act. Weapon, you needed a weapon- your hands lunged blindly and you felt the solid and heavy weight of an ornate candelabra in your hand. Two men, both stocky, rushed into the room where Dean had already drawn his sword, but one look at the abysmally dark pits that were their eyes, you knew a single blade would not help you. The closest to you moved fast, but you were faster. Even after the time you’d been imprisoned, your honed reflexes were still as reliable as they’d always been, and you moved in a blur of gleaming metal and dove grey lace. You swept his feet from under him, and before he had the chance to react, used his momentum to send him soaring over your shoulder, slamming him into the ground, and bashing the candlestick into his skull. 

            Dean turned to you, eyes wide in shock and surprise. You panted slightly, and he unsheathed a pair of daggers from his belt. He was silent, face impassive as he offered them to you, but you understood his bargain. The olive branch had been extended in the form of deadly blades and an agreement to have one another’s backs. “Demons. We must act quickly. There are hidden tunnels beneath us, are there not?” You asked hurriedly, though your tone was calm, voice unwavering. “Yes. I won’t ask how you know that.” He frowned. “Gather as many people as you can, and get them out.” You said firmly. “And leave you? To do what, exactly?” Dean scoffed. “Now is not the time to quarrel. I can hold my own, Your Majesty.” You said, curtsying mockingly as Dean rolled his eyes. “As you wish.” He sneered. You twirled the daggers deftly between your fingers, and as you looked at Dean, he saw a sort of bloodthirsty fire there, and simply nodded his head. You let a smirk spread over your lips, and allowed the predator within to show. A wolf stalked the palace, a wolf in a woman’s body, fangs of iron, heart of stone.

             Somewhere in the chaos, Dean connected with his younger brother, the two Princes fending off demons as they hurried people into the hidden entrance of the tunnels. Charlie, Captain of the Royal Guard, had ordered her forces to only attack you as self-defense, understanding that a shaky alliance had been forged against a mutual enemy. You, however, were nowhere to be seen, no sign of your existence save for the trail of bodies left in your wake.

            Silent. You were so silent, it was eerie, appearing from the shadows with a determined swiftness, so efficient that by the time anyone knew you were there, there was a knife buried to the hilt in their chest. You moved methodically, choosing corridors and halls with plenty of places to hide and a good vantage point, sometimes stalking your quarry with the unnerving, preternatural stillness and patience of a predator, hunting them down, and offering no mercy except that of a quick death. Morrigan, Queen of Thieves, Lady of Death, all names well-earned. You made killing an art, but not out of enjoyment. There was more there, a glimpse of sympathy hiding behind an eternally angry fire and cold eyes, more than vengeance in that dangerous smirk. So carefully hidden, this vulnerable human side of you, the part that could vomit at the sight of the carnage you caused, the part that wept and sobbed upon waking from a nightmare in which you were haunted by the faces of those you’ve loved and lost, and those you’d looked in the eye as they died at your hands. Steady, those hands, so firm and certain as they held a silvery blade. The demons within you were not the kind that could be exorcised.

                    You disappeared into the gloom of the tunnels, nothing but the weak and quickly dying light of the occasional torch to guide you, but you knew where you were going. You had never needed sight to find your way, as sure of your directions as anyone with a map could ever be. You were nearly stabbed as a member of the guard struck out at you, unable to discern your figure from a possible threat, leaning away and deflecting the blow with the dagger Dean lent you.

           “If you would refrain from decapitating me, I would be most gracious.” You said dryly, thoroughly unimpressed by the guards. “At ease.” Dean called, shouldering his way past the soldiers towards you. He was silent for a moment, surveying you with a critical gaze, searching for obvious injuries, of which you sported few. “How many?” He questioned. You shrugged. “Too many to count. The rest of your men can handle it now. The surprise of the attack caught them off-guard, but the numbers can be managed.” You reported, scanning the crowd of faces behind Dean. He nodded with a sigh, jaw set. Crown Prince he may be, but he was a warrior too, one that would rather die alongside his fellow soldiers than run with the civilians. You understood how he felt. Once, you had made a similar decision. The bandolier of knives slung over chest gleamed faintly in the firelight, one hand resting almost casually on the hilt of his sword. “We should keep moving. The palace is not safe, and your father was already escorted away.” You suggested, slipping behind Dean and to the front of the group. “I understand you do not trust me, but as of now, I am your ally. I hate Crowley and all he stands for, as well as those with him, far more than I hate the good King of Lawrence.” You said clearly. Dean’s lips curled into a small smirk, nodding. “You must truly hate Crowley, then.” Charlie spoke up. You snorted a laugh. “You haven’t the slightest.”

                      Dean watched you carefully. He was slightly behind you, placing himself between you and the others as an instinct. His emerald eyes were calculating, studying you. Blood smeared on your cheek, just slightly darker than the red of your lipstick. You’d cut through your skirts, leaving them above the knee for mobility, and your hair was mussed, small scratches and cuts scattered over your arms and legs. You looked a mess, and yet your eyes were clear, sharper and with more focus than he’d seen them before, body relaxed, but ready for action in an instant. You were in your element, adrenaline coursing through your veins, fingers still spinning those perfectly balanced daggers skillfully, the color of blood that was, he realized, not yours enhancing your eyes. His fathers words rang through his head. “Murder, son. Many, many counts of murder...”

               Dawn had arrived, the deeper indigos and rich blue-black of the night sky slowly replaced by subtle grey and soft rosy pink. A few lone stars hung glittering above the horizon, the full moon illuminating the rolling hills enough for them to see the bulky and stocky shape of the stronghold they were headed towards. Neither you, nor Dean, had let go of your weapons, waiting for the next attack as the civilians wearily trudged onwards. “How much farther?” You asked quietly. “Perhaps half a kilometre.” Dean answered, noting your frown. “What is it?” He queried. “Is it not strange that they would willingly allow both Princes to so easily escape? Something about this does not bode well.” You said seriously, exchanging an uneasy look with Dean. “I know. The best I can hope for is that the guards can get the people to safety.” Dean sighed, expression taut. So much responsibility, such a heavy weight. The gold of his crown reflected in the moonlight, and you wondered if he felt the burden of his entire kingdom resting upon his brow each time he wore it. “Then let us make haste, Your Majesty.” You gestured, flashing him a crooked grin. “I hate when you call me that.” Dean muttered blankly, but you caught the twitch of his lips as he fought a smile. “Crown Prince Dean, loathing his title. Next I’ll discover you don’t bathe in gold coins and rubies as large as a bird’s egg.” You snickered. That one got you a laugh, your eyes smug and smile triumphant.

              Close enough to see the flag flying atop the turrets of the stronghold, the urgency kicked in as the civilians were rushed towards the prospect of safety. You counted the steps left to take in your head. 1,000 steps away, an arrow pierced through the gap in a soldier’s metal armor. The people screamed, and Prince Sam quickly tried to regain control whilst you and Dean readied yourselves for battle. Charlie called out orders to hold the defensive line and to keep moving, but more arrows fell from the sky like rain, most bouncing off shields, but some wounding or killing both soldier and civilian. Dean’s expression shifted in an instant, and gone was the cocky grin, the cool amusement, replaced by cold steel and green eyes lit from within by an angry, righteous flame.

               The pair of you were efficient, Dean’s sword and your knives doing serious damage as the archers abandoned their bows and charged your group. He shielded you when he could, and you made quick work of would-be assailants attempting to take the Crown Prince by surprise. Something in the dynamic between you shifted, there on the battlefield, both spattered with blood and streaked with dirt, that former uneasy and hesitant trust replaced as you became strong defenders and fearsome allies. The Prince and the Assassin, Defenders of the Crown. You could laugh at the thought, and for a moment, the long-dormant place inside you that had once been alive in vivid colours created a mental image, two figures side-by-side, one in gleaming golden tones, the other a silhouette in silver, a brief flicker of something you’d paint if it had been long ago.

            Cresting the hilltop against the bronze of the rising sun, the King’s vast army rode on sure-footed steeds, armor a bright and shining wave of silver and gold to change the tide of the battle. Dean met your eyes, sharing in the sense of impending victory, before he cleaved a demon in half with one stroke of his sword, your own daggers finding their way into the throat and gut of two more. Sam had been flanked by the King’s soldiers, the common people and nobility rescued and ushered towards the stronghold. You and Dean remained, a lethal pair, carving a path through the attackers with both blood and blade, never ceasing even as you took a heavy mace to the shoulder, and Dean was stabbed in the thigh. There would be no retreat, from either side, but a few more cowardly individuals recognized the impending loss and fled, the numbers dwindling into something more manageable. By the time the sky burned red and blazing orange, clouds tinged pink and gold, the fields were littered with corpses both human and Other, the survivors being taken forcibly into custody. Again, the Crown Prince met your eyes, and nodded a solemn thanks, to which you gave a crooked smile and mocking bow. It would seem the unlikely alliance would survive another day.

               Dean refused to leave to be treated until you were also seen to, a handmaiden sighing exasperatedly and finally escorting you towards a private room which connected to Dean’s own chambers. The bustle of people distracted you from the pain of your various injuries, eyes taking in all the exits and cataloguing every twist and turn, memorizing faces. Another skill you could never forget, ingrained deeply in your instincts.

          “I can take care of these myself.” You insisted to a nurse as she tried to inspect a cut over your shoulder. “Let her assist you, Y/N.” Dean said sternly. meeting your eyes with furrowed brows. You sighed and rolled your eyes, but ceased you protests. Dean was made to leave and you were scrubbed and then dressed in night attire which smelled suspiciously of Dean’s earthy cologne, but was in any case a better alternative to another ridiculous dress. 

             “Your cover is blown, you realize.” Dean said. He stepped into your room, looking less like the future King, and more like a man. An exceedingly handsome man, you admitted. “I suppose now your father will kill me.” You replied, lifting your chin slightly. “He will wish to, but he can’t. You’re under my jurisdiction, Y/N.” Dean smirked, leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into his pockets as you stilled on the bed. “Am I to take this as you saying you don’t wish to kill me, Your Majesty?” You blinked slowly, expression betraying your confusion. “I- I may have judged you too harshly. In any case, you fought by my side, risked your life, cover, and safety to protect my people. You deserve to be hailed as a hero, not a criminal.” Dean said seriously, inspecting you closely to gauge your reactions. He frowned when you let out a loud laugh. “You’re not jesting? This is serious?” You asked incredulously. “Your Majesty, I will always be a killer, no matter what you now wish to call me. You will be making many people very angry if you stand for me against your father.” You pointed out. Dean smirked again, shrugging. “Old bastard has it coming. I am not the same man as my father, Y/N, and you are not your reputation. I don’t need to know the details of your past, nor your identity. You could have killed me at least a dozen different times this night, and many others. I trust you.” Dean stared you down, not allowing you to escape the sincere intensity of his deep pine eyes. “You’re mad.” You stated. “Perhaps.” He grinned back. “Well, then. To the death of all reason, Your Majesty.” You toasted, raising a crystal glass of wine in his direction. “I’ll drink to that. It’s Dean. Just Dean.” He said firmly. “As you wish, Crown Prince Just Dean.” This time, you both laughed.

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[emphoenixcat]

An Unconventional Fam (Pt. 10)

Part 9

Ao3

Buy me a kofi<3

A/N: This chapter takes place after chapter 7 for V and Dax, and chapter 9 for Roman and Remy. Enjoy! 

Summary: V and Dax make their way to the only place where they truly feel safe, a secret hideout in the forest. They have a surprising encounter with a particular werewolf.

Warnings: implied past child abuse (not detailed), slight blood mention, traps, demons, possession, food mention, lightning/thunder, wolves.

The demon and his human, or perhaps the human and his demon, were finally calming down after they were almost caught stealing from a cookie jar earlier that morning.

It was now mid-afternoon and they had managed to get a free bus ride at Dax’s insistence. 

V grumbled, “We shouldn’t be out in public like this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we can’t possibly walk all the way to the forest and make it there by nightfall. You said you wanted to get to your secret stash and listen to some music to calm down a bit, that is precisely what we’re doing.”

“We should’ve just headed back to our current hideout. This is too much traveling,” V anxiously peered around the bus at the strangers surrounding them.

The demon sighed, “You drew a picture of the demon witch on the walls. It seemed like bad luck to stay. Besides, we would be like sitting ducks if we remained there.”

He decided not to argue with the demon’s judgement, even if it had been primarily motivated by a craving for chocolate, it had solid rationale behind it.

They passed many busy stores and restaurants, now open and very much alive with customers. The leaf strewn sidewalks were teeming with people in a hurry to be somewhere. Dax and V stared longingly out the bus window, watching fragments of another life pass them by. Families walked together outside, children splashing in puddles and jumping in piles of fiery-hued leaves. V wanted to turn away from them and, instead, think like a brave and well-put-together adult, but he couldn’t. He was nothing more than a now twelve-year-old boy, not even close to fully grown. Dax, on the otherhand, was bewildered by such dreadfully heartwarming scenes; they simply didn’t understand such things. They were curious about what constituted as normal in human families, neither of them ever having much experience with such a concept.

It must have been hours before they were outside of town, but they were too busy daydreaming to be worried about the passing of time. The bus’s final stop was at an old gas station that was about an hour’s walk away from their special hiding place. V made sure to sit next to a large group of people despite his nagging uneasiness. They needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible after all.

As soon as the bus came to a stop at its final destination, they made their way to the doors, following closely behind the few people that were left.

“Hey, V. I’m feeling snackish. Do you feel like going for them chocolate chip cookies?”

Dax could feel V rolling his eyes at him, “Considering you ate one before I was awake and that I didn’t get to fully enjoy it the first time….yes.”

The demon sheepishly smiled, “I had to taste test them first to make sure they were suitable for the birthday boy.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, chewing on the delectable chocolate chip cookies and enjoying the crisp autumn air. They were breathing easier now that they were far away from prying eyes and now that the threat of the demon witch was temporarily pushed out of their minds. Something about the flavorful treats made V optimistic in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, he vaguely wondered if they were getting a sugar high from said sweets. His heart sank slightly at the thought of never being able to go back to the diner for more cookies, not after being seen.

Pushing the image of the concerned man from earlier out of their minds, they continued forward through the undergrowth of the forest. It had been a month or two since they had come back to their little wooded hideaway; they tried not to go back and forth too often because it was easier to remain in town where they could go to various stores for the everyday essentials.

Getting to the hideout from here was not a problem, they had made sure of it by creating a magical path that only they could see. 

When Dax had agreed to help V run away from the demon witch, Stella, they had managed to snag a few potions and elixirs on their way out. Even though V struggled with the writing on the bottles, most of them were accompanied by symbols that he had been around all his life so he had some idea what they were used for. Mendacius, on the other hand, was more certain of the properties of each bottle since he was rather fluent in reading Latin and old runes. Together, they used a bright blue potion labelled Ignis Fatuus, which Dax knew would light a path leading to their desired destination. Only those who had unbottled the potion under a full moon and watched each drop of liquid seep into the earth were able to see Ignis Fatuus (which the demon had informed V was better known as Will-o’-the-wisp, a type of faerie magic that could only be used in this way when captured).

The shade of the trees provided enough low light to better see the magic bright blue flames that lined the forest floor. It wasn’t long before they came upon a tree with a hidden hollowed out inside. They pressed down on a large tree knot as if it were a button, a stairway within the trunk revealing itself step by step. 

Cautiously looking over his shoulder, V ascended the stairway until they were safely inside their secret treehouse.

The house was, of course, only the size of a small room, but inside it contained all of V and Dax’s most treasured belongings. Among art and photographs, a string of purple and yellow star-shaped fairy lights were strung along the wall, lighting up now that they were fully inside the room. Strewn about the walls were many of V’s paintings and sketches; he had tried to hang only those that reminded him of something good and comforting. Most of them were a likeness of the forest, some were depictions of Dax, and there were a few that V had let Dax help him draw….those ones were usually pictures of chocolate bars and cookies. V shook his head at the thought and smirked, what a weirdo. 

“Hey,” Dax protested, “I heard that.”

V just grinned and carried on admiring the contents of their hideaway treehouse. Of course the demon had other interests besides chocolate, such interests were depicted in photographs they had taken of shops and nature and unaware passersby. Mendacius had taken a strong liking to photography because of the way he could capture special moments on earth. He often hoped that the photos would withstand the tests of time so that he could always remember the best of everything long after this life and the next.

Among little dark wooden shelves, were stacks upon stacks of CDs, batteries, and music boxes of all kinds. Right beside the dark oakwood shelving, there rested a sturdy wooden trunk with silver runic symbols etched all along the sides; this was where all the potions were safely kept under lock and key. Not in any need of magical concoctions at this point in time, they glanced at the neatly-made and soft-looking bed that sat in the lefthand corner of the room, its soft purple blankets and an ebony plush bunny by the name of Mrs. Fluffybottom were a welcome sight for sore eyes. 

Without a second thought, they jumped on the mattress, wrapping the soft blanket around themselves and letting out a sigh of relief. Nothing felt safer than their treehouse retreat. For about the millionth time, V and Dax thanked whatever forces were in their favor for the Arbor Domus potion or, put more simply, the Grow a Home potion. All they had needed was a drop of the green liquid and an oak tree seed. After that, everything else was provided by Mendacius and his cunning thievery, something that V wasn’t exactly proud of.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, V chanced a glance out of a small circular window near the bed, noticing the rays of sunlight fading through the trees. His birthday would be over soon enough, all they had to do was lay low here and let the rest of the day pass.

“Sleep now, V. You didn’t get enough rest earlier,” Dax urged him to lay back down and get comfortable.

V chewed at his nails, “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

“Nobody can find us here. And I’m not moving us anywhere, I promise,” Dax reassured him. “We’re safe.”

Nodding slightly, V relented and let their head softly hit the pillow as he tucked themselves snuggly within the blanket covers. After grabbing the plush bunny for extra security, it only took a moment for the normally anxious boy to feel safe enough to snooze.

Dax meant to stay awake to watch over V, but the demon felt his own spirit getting drowsy. In what seemed like no time at all, both souls were comfortably curled up and sleeping soundly, the soft glow of fairy lights providing them with dreams unburdened by darkness or evil witches of any kind.

They were abruptly awoken by the sound of a wild animal deeply howling. V bolted up so quick that they nearly got whiplash.

Crankily, Dax rubbed at their eyes, “Calm down, V. It’s probably just the wind.”

“That is most definitely not the wind. That was a wolf.”

The demon sighed, “So what? The creature can’t get us from here, this place is cloaked by magic.”

“Oh,” V clutched their rabbit plushie a little closer to himself, comforted by its presence. “I suppose you’re right. It just startled me is all; it sounds awfully close.”

They were silent for a moment, straining their ears to listen. There was the unmistakable pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the roof. Minutes passed before they heard the howl again, this time it was much closer. 

Trying not to feel nervous, they peered out the window and into the forest down below. The eerie glow of the full moon was shadowed by a great deal of cloud cover, yet it cast just enough light for them to see the russet-hued wolf that stood at the base of their tree. It was simply staring into the sky, seemingly entranced. It let loose another hauntingly drawn-out howl.

Not wanting to alert the wolf to their presence, even if they were hidden by magic, V opted for speaking to Dax telepathically rather than out loud. “What kind of wolf is that? It’s kinda orange, almost tri-colored like a timber wolf.”

“That’s not a normal wolf. It’s much too big and definitely not native to these parts.”

“A werewolf?” V’s eyes widened, “Is it--? No, it can’t be.”

 Dax only nodded, he could see the glow of a human-like aura intertwined with that of a wolf-like one. The demon sent the image over to V’s mind as they watched the wolf below them dash away into the darkness and out of sight.

“Well, he’s gone now. Not much to worry abo--”

A piercing cry echoed across the expanse of trees followed by a series of yelps and whimpers.

V and Dax stood stock still in stunned silence, they were both wondering what in the world had just happened to elicit such a spine-chilling sound from their wolfy acquaintance. The shrill whimpering continued and V finally found the will to speak, “M--maybe we should go see what’s wrong. I mean, it sounds like he’s hurt.”

“Oh really now, the big bad wolf should be able to take care of himself,” Dax rolled their eyes, “Besides, I thought that you wanted to stay in tonight and avoid any and all trouble.”

A long and heart-wrenching whine could be heard throughout their area of the woods.

“C’mon. You know we can’t just stay here and do nothing while he’s hurting out there.”

Dax threw their arms up in the air in exasperation, “Fine, we’ll go out and help! But only because I can’t stand his incessant whining. Don’t blame me when your fear of dogs is worsened because wolfy over there decides that we’d make a good chew toy.”

Well aware that they were planning on helping an unpredictable wild animal, which was stronger and bigger due to its magical qualities, they decided they should equip themselves with a little magic of their own.

V took off the collar that his bunny, Mrs Fluffybottom, wore around its neck. Hooked onto the neckband, like a bell, was a silver and black key. 

Determined, V took the key over to the chest and fit it into the heavy padlock. Something clicked and they carefully lifted the heavy lid until it rested against the wall. Dax and V stared at the various vials of liquid enchantments set before them. The demon retrieved a tiny bottle of what looked almost blood-like in color. As he touched the glass, ancient runes briefly revealed themselves and Dax nodded with certainty. 

“This is the one we need,” their eyes skimmed the rest of the pile, “Unfortunately, there are not any cloaking potions in here. Looks like we’re on our own.”

V shrugged their shoulders, “We usually are.”

Before they could lose that sliver of bravery pulsing inside of them, they pocketed the healing potion and shut the chest, locking it up once more and returning the key back to its rightful place. Smiling softly, V patted the dark bunny’s head and thanked it for guarding the key. Mrs. Fluffybottom could only stare back at them with mismatched purple button eyes of course, but that didn’t matter much to V. 

V pulled their hood up over their ears, mindful of the wind and drizzle that was going on outside. Then they hurried down the staircase and out the entrance of the hollowed out tree, the steps vanishing from sight behind them. 

Once outside, they made sure to creep silently, moving deftly through twigs, crunchy leaves, and undergrowth. The rainfall made it a lot simpler to walk undetected towards the high-pitched yowling, which seemed to be getting even louder. Dax and V rounded a tree and abruptly stopped, tiptoeing backwards in order to remain out of sight.

Lying on the forest floor in a small pool of blood was the wolf, his hind leg caught in the heavy metallic jaws of a beartrap. 

“Great, what’s the plan now? We can’t heal him without freeing him first.”

V eyed the wolf warily, “I dunno, I was hoping it was a simple injury. Why does it always have to be beartraps?”

“I guess werewolves don’t have many other weaknesses.”

“Well,” V bit his lip in thought, “if we’re gonna do this, I’m gonna need your help as much as possible.”

“We could wait until he turns human again, couldn’t we?” Dax suggested.

“No, he’s bleeding out. It’s too long of a wait until sunrise….”

Without a second thought, they stepped out from behind the tree.

The wolf’s head turned and the whimpering turned into low guttural growls as the creature finally realized he was no longer alone.

V hesitated, slowly edging closer to the wolf. He extended a hand toward the creature in what he hoped was a placating gesture.

“H--hey, buddy. Remember us? I know we got off to a bad start, but we returned the book and even left a note. We’re cool, right? You wouldn't dream of tackling us a second time, right?” V lightly chuckled, his voice shaky and whispery.

The tawny wolf tilted his head in confusion and the growls softened for a moment, however, his ears remained as alert as ever. He fixed his eyes on the other and V stilled in their tracks, mesmerized as the wolf’s irises flashed from gold to brown for a fleeting moment; it had happened so fast that they weren’t even sure they had seen it correctly.

Because it was what seemed like the logical response at the time, they let their eyes flash a deep ebony before letting the color settle back into V’s usual hazel.

The wolf cautiously bowed his head to them, his tail lowered.

They took this as a sign that it was okay to approach. Dax and V attentively knelt down next to the silver trap, the light of the moon glinting off of it ever so slightly. V let the demon take control as they worked to pull the metallic jaws apart, careful not to touch the sharp teeth of the contraption. Sweat was beginning to form on their brow as they pried at the trap for several long minutes, the metal was slick from the rain and their hands kept slipping. Grunting from the extended exertion, the demon used as much strength as he could muster and V helped as much as he possibly could. The beartrap finally began to budge ever so slightly. With what sounded a lot like a battle cry, the hinges were creaked back just enough for the werewolf to free his paw. As soon as they noticed he was free, they let go of the trap and it snapped shut, just narrowly missing their fingers as they fell backward onto the damp forest floor.

Sighing with relief, they tiredly retrieved the healing elixir from their pocket and managed a faint smile at the wolf next to them. They uncorked the bottle and let the tiniest drop of red liquid fall upon the creature’s injured paw. Within seconds, the potion started to work its magic repairing the wound until the paw looked as good as new. No scars remained.

The wolf stared at his paw and twirled around in circles as if disbelieving, then he peered up at them, his irises as golden as ever.

V felt a shiver run up his spine and he turned to look over his right shoulder. Mendacius was taking form beside him. It appeared to be the devil’s hour once again.

There was a sudden flash in the sky and a resounding clap of thunder. The werewolf snarled.

They were still on the ground and out of breath. Both of them knew that if they were to run, the creature would catch up.

The wolf crept forward, sniffing the air.

“M--maybe if we don’t make any sudden movements, he won’t attack?” Dax said hopefully, he was suddenly very aware that his physical form was now solidified enough to be maimed.

V managed to nod once, his wide eyes still glued to the threat before them.

Nose still twitching, the werewolf backed away from them a few steps. Then the creature lunged, knocking them both backward with his huge paws.

V’s eyes were shut tightly, his breathing erratic and strained. He was absolutely certain that this was the end, but then he felt something wet and slobbery tickle his nose and his eyelids fluttered open only to be greeted by the view of the dog's tongue darting out to lick his cheek. The wolf turned to Dax to do the same.

“Ugh, gross! This is the last time I help a werewolf!” the demon complained.

They were licked excitedly by the wolf about three or four more times before he happily bounded away further into the woods, his tail wagging behind him. The duo remained on the now muddy ground, they were absolutely rain-soaked, but the utter exhaustion from all that they had gone through kept them rooted to the spot for a little while longer. It was quite a lot to process.

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A/N: How cool would it have been if I had actually gotten this werewolf chapter out on not only a full moon, but the blue moon that we had on Halloween night? That would’ve been spectacular. *sighs*

[that-wimpy-cowboy-doll]

The Story of Her Name

Happy Valentine’s Day @shallow-gravy​ !  I was your @rdrsecretcupid2020 :)  Hope you enjoy <3 <3 <3

Pairing: Arthur x Female Reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: very mild violence

Word Count: 2092

Summary: On a dark and stormy night, Arthur tells his girls his story of the man who helped them be a family.

O’Creagh’s Run, Grizzlies East

April 1907

Thunder cracks overhead, violently punctuating the rolling waves of water that drop from the sky and hit the roof of your home in fat droplets.  The stove in your living room comes alive with fire and light, and your home is warm with love.  You snuggle closer into your husband’s bare chest, threading your fingers through the fine golden hairs there.  It’s late, but in spite of how heavy your body feels, sinking into the mattress, you can’t will your eyelids shut.  Arthur smiles into your hair, letting his hand run languidly up and down your back.

“What you thinkin’ about?”

“Mm...I think we oughta take another trip soon, the three of us.  Take Claire up the mountains or...to the bayou or something.  Maybe out east, show her the ocean somewhere.”

Another bolt of thunder cracks, and this time you jump a little, eliciting a small chuckle from deep in Arthur’s belly.  He trails his hand up to your shoulder to move away a few strands of your hair.  In the room next to you, you hear your daughter stirring, and then the pitter-patter of six-year-old feet scurrying to the door.

“Watch out,” Arthur rumbles - you can hear the smile in his voice.  The feet turn the corner, and your door scrapes open, like it always does, a little brown head of hair peeking curiously around it.

“Mama?”  She’s still wrapped up in her blanket, her wide blue eyes, her father’s eyes, blinking up at them from across the room.  “Papa, I’m scared.”

“Come here, baby.”  Arthur opens up the blanket, and you make room for her, smiling as she piles into the small space between you.  “That big bad thunder wake you up?”

“Uh-huh.”  She’s taken to sucking her thumb again, a habit she only falls into scared or half-asleep.  Right now she looks both.  “Papa, can you tell me a story?”

“A story,” he repeats, smiling tenderly as she snuggles up under his arm.  “Well, I ain’t much of tellin’ stories these days.  We used to leave that up to your Grandpa Hosea.”  He flashes you a knowing but solemn smile, before turning his attention back to Claire.   “What story you wanna hear?  The one ‘bout the crazy brothers, who rode barrels down a waterfall for the lady?  Or the one about how your daddy wrangled zoo animals?”

She pulls her thumb out of her mouth long enough to reach for your hand, and soggy as it is, you take her little mitt in yours.  Her little gap-toothed smile shines in the moonlight filtered through the window, and when the heavy rainclouds roll over the moon again, she pulls you closer to nuzzle in between you and her father.

“I wanna hear the one about my name.”

“Uh-oh,” you say softly and wink at Arthur.  “I think you forgot something, little miss.”

“Pleeeeease,” she sings.

“What do you say, Papa?”  You run your finger up the shell of his ear, settling your hand in his hair.  “The story of how Miss Claire came to be Miss Claire?”

He stretches out his muscles and gathers his family close, kissing each of his girls on the head before he gets started.

One time, a long time ago, your daddy and your Uncle John was makin’ all sorts of trouble in a big city called Saint Denis, where you’d see people and animals of all shapes and sizes. Daddy decided to go away for a little while, and hunt him some deer up near the mountains.  He found his way up to the lake, but somethin’ was odd.

He heard a man huffin’ and gruntin’ and callin’ out a name.  “Buell,” the man said, “Buell, you stubborn son of a - ”

“Papa,” you say threateningly, and he catches himself, throwing you an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry.”

Well, eventually, your papa slowed his horse down, and there next to a boulder, there was an old man with a funny hat and a missing leg.  And he said, “Mister, you got a second to help an old man?”

So I slowed on down, and I tied my horse to a tree, told her to stay.  “What happened to you?” I said.

“Durn horse threw me, and my leg still on him.  Reckon I saw him take off down toward the lake.  I’d be mighty grateful if you fetched him for me, Mister.”

Now, your daddy didn’t much want to chase down an ornery horse that day.  It wouldn’t be the first time he said no to someone in need, or acted mean to somebody didn’t deserve actin’ mean to.  But this man had a kind face and a kind soul, grizzled as he was, and I couldn’t very well say no.

So I said, “sure.”  And I headed down the hill.

He was right.  His horse was by the lake, wooden leg hangin’ off the saddle, and he was a fine horse.  Big and gold and strong, with blue eyes that was watery, and smart.  He neighed at me, lifting his hooves off the ground, saying, “no, sir, you don’t come no closer.”  

And I lifted up my hands, show him I weren’t no trouble.  I said, “hey, boy, you’re alright.  Whoa, boy.”  And I got closer.  He started to calm down, real slow-like, and finally let your pa put his hands on the horse’s mane.  I patted him, real gentle, and led him on back to the feller sittin’ up against the rock.

The feller was mighty kind about getting his horse and his leg back, and he didn’t have no money to pay your daddy, but he said, “anytime you feel like hunting some, come on by and I’ll be happy to hunt with you.”  And he shook my hand and headed on home.

“Did you go hunting with him again, Papa?”  Claire asks feebly, her soft blue eyes already growing lidded and tired.  Arthur threads her hair through his fingers, gently scratching on her scalp.

“I sure did, baby.  He was a crazy old feller, that gentleman.  He’d fought in the war, but seemed every time your papa met him, he was picking fights with a bigger and meaner creature than the last.”

First, he took your papa fishing for the Tyrant, a great big pike in the lake who darn near dragged the veteran and your daddy out of their boat before he’d be caught.

Claire’s gaze floats lazily upward, to the large fish mounted above your wedding photo, its mouth open and its eyes fixed wide ahead of it.  Her small elbow bumps into your side, and she points to it.  You nod gently, stroking her hair and pretending it’s not just to tangle your fingers with Arthur’s.

Then, we set out to find a great white wolf who lived up in the mountains.  She was a smart wolf, led the old feller and me up the mountain to where she’d caught and ate a deer.  And then, just when we thought we was on her scent, she set her friends on us to try and eat us, too.  So the veteran and I fired a few shots at her friends, and when they was all gone, she jumped right on me, ready to eat me alive.

We shot her then, so that your daddy could come home to you with all his arms and legs still on him.

The last time I saw the man, there was a boar - a great big angry pig with tusks - runnin’ wild, terrorizing the animals around his home.  So we set off to hunt him, too.  We was getting close, up in the mountains again, and the old man said we should split up, try and catch him separately.

Well, when I was trackin’ the boar up in the bushes, trying to catch his trail - when animals and people walk through the dirt, we leave footprints.  Papa was trying to see if the footprints in the dirt had come from the boar, and how long ago the animal had been there.  I was trying to catch his trail, and then I heard a couple of shots not too far off.  Where the old feller would’ve been.

I run down, see if he’d caught the big…

He looks at you, and you can see the gears turning in his head to figure out the right word, one that won’t earn him a dirty look or a gentle smack to the shoulder.  You feel a grin tugging the corners of your lips.

“Creature?”

He nods enthusiastically, and then sets his brow again, all too serious.  You knew what Hamish had meant for Arthur - a new start.  And this was what he’d done with it.

I wanted to see if he’d caught the big creature.  But the boar had got him with one of his tusks, the old man, and he was layin’ down, trying to breathe, and the boar charged on him again, only this time, I was ready for him.  I got the big beast, one bullet right between them beady little eyes.

He imitates the sound a bullet makes leaving a barrel, and Claire’s eyes go wide, or as wide as they can go, her snuggling deeper into his chest, small hands fixed on his union suit.

The old man was dyin’.  He knew it.  He told me, “Arthur, take care of Buell for me.  He’s a good horse.”  I told him I would, and he died right in my arms.

He combs a hand back through the fine strands of her chestnut-colored hair, and while she looks about ready to fall asleep in his arms, she straightens up a little.  “And you took care of Buell, too, Papa.  The big horse you let me ride sometimes.”

“That’s right, baby.  Almost as old as that old man now, but I reckon he’s happy.”

“You forgot something, Papa,” she yawns, and doesn’t put up a fight when Arthur scoops her up to take her back to her own room.  “You forgot to tell me...how I got my name.”

“Well, that’s the best part of the story.  The old man, the one who thought your daddy saved him, the old man who really saved your daddy, his name was Hamish.  Hamish Sinclair.”  You follow them out the door, and down the small hallway to her bedroom, Arthur laying her out on her bed and tucking her in closely.  “When your momma and I saw you for the first time we said, ‘hm...she’s got strong eyes, like Buell.  And a strong heart, like Hamish.’  And we thought Sinclair sounded pretty good like ‘Miss Claire.’  And there you was.”  He smiles brightly, and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.  “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

But she’s already asleep.

Arthur wraps his arms around your waist, guiding the pair of you back to your own bedroom.  You forget that the thunder has stopped and that the rain coming down on your roof now is just as gentle as his touch, just as fine as the nightgown clinging to your skin.  He kisses your cheek, your jaw, your lips, and smiles at you when you lie beside him, your thumb moving slowly over the stubble on his chin.

“We made a great girl,” he whispers, as if he can’t believe it.  You know, sometimes, that he doesn’t - that he doesn’t think he deserves the life you both have made out here.  He dreams sometimes that you and Claire disappear in the dead of night, and when he wakes up gasping and crying, you hold him until the sun peeks through the windows.

“We did,” you whisper back, toying with the top button of his sleeping suit.  “She loves you.  I love you.  And we ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

He closes his eyes and nuzzles up against your nose, the hand at your hip drawing oblong shapes into your own gown, then sneaking under to trace your skin.  You jump a little, feeling the desire flare up from your thighs to your belly.

“Mr. Morgan.”

“Mrs. Morgan,” he chuckles, kisses you again, and slides the hem of your gown up to your waist, his rough, calloused palm pulling you closer by the small of your back.  “I been thinkin’...I love having the three of us around, you, me, and her...but what if we made it four?”

You smile again, trailing your own hand down to his neck to pull him closer, to press your lips to his.  “You might be onto somethin’, cowboy.”

[jpat82]

Wicked Moon

Chapter 1

      Silver light trickled down in through the canopy high above, a howl pierced the midnight air as each of his steps were silent. The doe ahead raised her head, ears flicking around trying to determine where the howl had came from. Dark eyes scanning the forest around her, green eyes focused in as he lowered his head closer to the ground, body still, poised to lunge at the animal in front of him.

     Nights like this always made the wolf wonder if there was anything more to life. The hunt was what he lived for, stalking and tracking his prey. The high from taking down a beast. He was sure the others weren't like him, they relied on politics. The bartering and trading to elevate their own status. All except him.

     A branch snapped, the doe's head flicked toward the sound, a flash of golden fur and the deer sprang into action. Hooves kicking up leaves as she sprung from her spot. Loki snarled as he watched the lumbering wolf who's body was a mixture of human and wolf take off after the deer. Loki's posture returned to normal, standing to his full height, as he gave up pursuit of the animal he had been stalking.

    Loki began to slowly travel back toward Asgard, annoyance coating him as he heard the deer bleat in pain from somewhere behind him.

    Stupid Thor, the wolf thought as he followed the game trail back to the golden city deep within the woods. Asgard was a city untouched by man, one filled with others like him. Well, not quite like him.

     Loki passed one of the guards to the city, his form much like his brothers. Standing on his hind legs, body slightly slunched forward, massive arms that were out of portion with the rest of the body. The head resembled that of a wolf, but that was the only similarity to Loki that the rest of the asgardains had. His father was built like Thor, and so was his mother. Loki was the only who looked like a wolf when fully transformed.

     The guard nodded, spear in hand as the wolf trotted pass. Odin, Loki's father was the lead alpha of the pack, and their mother was the omega. Loki and Thor were both poised to become the lead Alpha after Odin had given up his rein. Some days the ebony wolf wanted it, wanted nothing more then to be lead Alpha. Other days, he just wanted to be in the hunt, to be out there, way from everyone and everything. Either way, Odin hadn't decided on when he would step away from the thrown, but first the brothers would have to show they were worthy and procure a mate.

     "Loki!" Thor's voice bellowed from behind him, the wolf rolled his eyes as he continued back toward the palace doors of his home. "Brother!"

     "What Thor?" Loki snapped never bothering to slow.

     "You should see this deer I caught." Thor announced, catching up in massive strides. Loki could smell the scent of the coppery blood before he even caught sight of the golden massive beside him.

Thor’s luscious coat was stained crimson, the doe that Loki had been stalking thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. The head nearly ripped off, Loki rolled his eyes as Thor all but skipped next to him.

“It was an amazing hunt, the beast barely gave a fight.” Thor stated proudly as they passed through the golden door, Loki’s claws clicked across the marble floor as he attempted in vain to ignore his brother. “Mother said that the Alpha from one of the neighboring packs was coming today.”

“Yes, I heard that.” Loki replied coolly as he turned and headed toward the grand stair case. Rich mahogany wood, deep in color followed the wall turning as it ascended up to the next level where Loki’s bed chambers were.

“Loki.” Thor called from behind him. “Mother wanted us to be present, he has brought us their Omega daughter to meet.”

“Not interested.” Loki snapped back as he hit the next flooring.

He didn’t want to meet the omega, not being forced in this kind of situation at least. He knew this was set up, hopefully to have either him or Thor ready for when the time comes. Loki would prefer to meet an omega on his own, one where the political pressure attached to it wouldn’t be present.

The wolf continued on, past his room, toward the seemly blank wall. The palace in itself was a work of art, grand in many ways. From the beautiful marbled floors, the rich woods used to build the walls, the intricate wood carvings on the banisters. Ornate paintings lined the walls, rooms with breathtaking views, a garden that rivaled even those of the gods. But what few knew was the secret passages, hidden chambers, all of them the trickster knew.

As he neared the wall Loki hit the switch close to the floor, one that was hidden in plain view on the molding along wall near the floor. The wall ahead slowly gave way, the passage behind it dark. The wolf sprinted up ahead, allowing the darkness to enfold him. He rushed head first, watching as he continued past the other hidden corridors, knowing exactly where he was headed.

Mid run Loki began to shift, his body becoming up right, forelegs reverting back into the arms of his natural human shape. Slowly the black pelt that covered him shifted, changing into leather with emerald and gold accents. His face became to take form, his muzzle receded into an angular jaw with high cheekbones. Black shoulder length hair slightly slicked back as he slowed before the door leading outside to the massive Asgardain garden.

Loki pushed the door open allowing the warm breeze to cover him, the moon was slowly beginning it’s descent on the horizon. The scent of summer flowers engulfed him as he stepped out and allowed the door to close behind him. Besides the library this was Loki’s favorite place to be.

Most of the Asgardain’s choose not to come here, it wasn’t a private garden by any means, all of Asgard was allowed to mingle here. But they choose to go through the training course, trying to prove who the better fighter was. Loki’s mother Frigga was one of the other few that would wander the garden. That is why when Loki caught scent of another Alpha his curiosity peaked, most of the city’s people were Beta’s with few Alpha’s and even fewer Omega’s. Naturally he followed the scent till he came within sight of the weeping wisteria, a woman stood underneath, one he had never seen. Her scent was peculiar, drawing him in. Mostly Alpha, hints of the soft sweet smell of Omega, and something altogether completely unique. She didn’t smell of wolf, nor human, but something entirely new.

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