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haro-whumps · 4 years

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Ritual Sacrifice

CW: RITUAL SACRIFICE BABIES I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE THE PROMPT LIST CAME OUT, lady whumpee, dismemberment, panic, slight body horror(?)(just to be safe), semi-human whumpee, non-human whumper, trans woman naga caretaker, chains, blood

@whumptober2020

Marielle brushed her hands down her arms again, smoothing the thick lotion into her bronze skin so that it held an almost golden sheen in the candlelight. Her curly black hair had been pinned back from her face in a series of intricate, jeweled ornaments that matched with the rest of her glinting jewelry: the heavy earrings, the heavier arm bands and anklets, the necklace that was heavier still, and heaviest of all, the shackles.

She’d fastened them herself. It was not as though she had any real desire to run, or anywhere to run away to. Her tail twitched agitatedly at the thought, the thick pink and teal feathers flaring with her disquiet, but she twisted on her stool and forcefully smoothed them right back down. It was an honor, to serve in this purpose. And Marielle volunteering meant the other girls in the roost had another year to figure out a more permanent solution.

She picked agitatedly under one of her talons despite the fact that she’d bathed far too thoroughly to have left even a speck of dirt on her person. Then she preened the tiny, peach-pink feathers of her lower legs and ankles again, touched her hair, stood up, and began to pace. Her toe talons click-clacked against the wooden floor, digging into the grooves between the planks for purchase and filling the room with the only sound beyond the gentle swish of her clothes and the tinkling of her jewelry colliding.

Marielle had expected to be interrupted. Rushed. Hurried along. She hadn’t expected to be left waiting.

“Um, priestess?” she asked, rapping her knuckles gently against the doorframe. If we do not enact this soon, I fear I might reconsider my resolve not to run away.

“Are you ready, little Marielle?” The low, soothing pitch of the kindly priestess’s voice settled some of Marielle’s nerves. This priestess had been the one to teach religious studies during her school years, patient, sweet, familiar. Comforting.

“Yes ma’am,” she said, glad that her favorite schoolteacher was the one who would be guiding her. Really, any priestess would have been fine as long as they weren’t the skinny, wiry one who always dug her talons in whenever she gripped someone by the arm. But Marielle took comfort in the familiar voice.

The door opened and the intricate carvings of the priestess’s mask greeted Marielle, who smiled unconvincingly.

“Marielle,” she said warmly, softly, reaching out to squeeze two handfuls of her hair before cupping her cheeks. Although Marielle could not see her face, it seemed to her that the priestess looked… sad.

“Priestess,” she returned, leaning into her touch and bracing one of her hands with her own.

“Do you want to hear the words?”

Marielle snorted softly, a quiet rush of air, and shook her head. She knew. That her sacrifice would keep the greed-gods at bay for another year. That the life of one could preserve the lives of many. That she would be honored, venerated, and mourned.

She did not want to hear it. Did not need to.

So she lifted her wrists and let the priestess clip the chains upon the heavy cuffs.

And so we pass the point from which there will be no return.

She pondered, as the priestess led her through the ever-familiar pathways of their winding tree homes, if she ought to feel the truth of it all setting in yet. That she was going to die. That she was going willingly to her death. That her death was going to be a very bad one. Maybe, she thought as she walked the smooth wood of braided trees, she was numb from shock? Her mind’s desperate way of protecting itself.

A falling flower crossed her field of vision and pulled her from her thoughts, head raising to view its source. Her sister perched on the canopy. Traditionally, it was a woman’s mother who dropped the first flower. But Marielle’s mother never came to the marches, even when it was not her own kin on the trek.

Dozens, hundreds more descended in the first blossom’s wake, littering the path Marielle walked, a vibrantly orange bloom catching in her hair. It was just as easily dislodged when she reached the edge of the roost, spread her arms, and jumped.

Dropping was harder, weighed down by the unfamiliar jewelry, but the wind caught in the ceremonial glider as easily as her homely, family-spun one. The chains tethering her to the priestess were also new, Marielle generally preferring a bit more space between herself and a drop partner, but her tail fanned and caught the wind currents with enough precision that she was able to successfully drift down to the forest floor. Her toe talons sunk into the soft underbrush, and for an inane moment she pouted internally at the fact that she had just washed those.

Then the feeling evaporated, replaced by something much colder. Oddly enough, it was being down on the ground that set primitive, self-preserving fear through her. Nevermind that she was only there in the first place to bring those fears to life. She kind of wanted the numbness back now, please.

“Breathe, sweet Marielle,” the priestess murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The priestess’s glider sleeve covered Marielle’s back like a cloak, and she rested her head on her shoulder with a shallow nod. “It is not far to the altar now.”

And it was not. Last year’s blood, the years’ blood before it, still stained the holy stone. It was huge, square, too massive to lift and therefore something Marielle had never before witnessed, in her life high among the trees.

“In the center.”

Marielle climbed up, her tail flaring out to counterbalance as she perched awkwardly on it. It was uniquely smooth, entirely flat and level without a groove or grip in sight. Her toe talons scratched roughly against the unfamiliar surface, unsure of how to stand.

Or sit, as the priestess locked her right arm’s chain to one corner of the holy stone, and her left to the other. The priestess cupped her cheeks once more, bringing their foreheads together, and Marielle took a deep, shaky breath.

This was the last time anyone would ever touch her. This was the last person she’d ever see.

“Brave Marielle. We will miss you.”

Those were the last words anyone would ever say to her. This was it. It was over. Her life was over, why had she volunteered for this?! She didn’t want to die!

“No,” she gasped, “No, wait! Come back!”

But the priestess was already out of earshot by the time Marielle’s lagging tongue caught up to her delayed fears, talons sinking into soft bark as she carried herself back into the safe embrace of wooden limbs.

“No, wait! Wait! I change my mind! Wait!!”

Rustling, but not from above. Marielle went suddenly still, suddenly silent, as though the gods might not find her.

The greed-goddess that emerged was massive, shaped like a pig--or maybe a lizard--and it was lumbering, hulking, its stout legs crushing the brush. It was less “warty” than the simple state of it was that warts comprised the entirety of its skin, the reddish brown, leathery quality churning Marielle’s stomach. The goddess had no visible eyes to speak of, but its snout ended in giant nostrils that hovered just above its massive, filthy tusks.

The goddess rattled a nearby tree with those tusks, not hard enough to damage the homes above or the structural integrity of the tree itself. Just a reminder of its power, of the fact that it, and all the other greed-gods, could have their fill of Marielle’s people, should they ever fail to present the yearly offering.

Then the goddess turned its snout on Marielle.

“Please,” Marielle breathed, struggling backwards, wishing her ancestors had evolved wings. “Please, no.” Tears were budding in her eyes, the rattle of her chains loud in her drumming ears. The goddess set one massive, heavy leg upon the stone, air rushing over Marielle’s all-too-mortal skin. A tusk, big as Marielle’s thigh--bigger--slid beneath her knee, its snout twitching as it sniffed at her legs. Her breath was caught in her throat, the moment suspended, overwhelming horror choking her.

Then the goddess opened its mouth, two rows of glistening fangs revealed, thick, viscous saliva connecting the lower jaw to the upper. The greed-goddess’s fangs were chipped, rotting, some blackened by spots of mold, some pinkish with the blood of its last meal, some yellow or orange with age.

Marielle screamed.

The pain in her leg was blinding, worse than anything she’d imagined or feared. The goddess’s teeth were grinding against her bone, it cast her thoughts out, her wrists began to bleed where the shackles cut as she struggled mindlessly. She wailed, thrashed, kicked, anything to get away from the horrible beast rending her flesh, gnashing, eating her. Why had she been left conscious for this? Why wasn’t she knocked out?!

Just when she’d accepted that she would die from the pain before the goddess could even bite anything vital, a bellow of pain, too loud to be her own, shook the very treetops. It took Marielle’s lagging presence of mind a moment to catch up, that her ruined leg was no longer attached but also no longer trapped in the goddess’s maw.

The goddess was--tangled?--being--

There was a giantess here. Marielle had seen such people, slithering with their strange snake bodies across the forest floor. Always just glimpses, too far away to see anything meaningful, but she was close now.

The giantess had brown scales on her lower body, green where they caught in the light, and they were wrapped around the goddess’s heavy, massive bulk. Her upper body was more personable, with almond eyes in a sunlessly beige face half-hidden by strange, thin, straight hair. Silky, almost.

And oh, yeah, she had a massive boar spear clutched in both her hands.

The giantess let out a war cry, driving the spear into the goddess’s skull, where an eye might have been on a lesser creature. Black, thick fluid gushed, bubbling, as the goddess howled again. Its thick legs stomped, pawed at the giantess, but she was too firmly wrapped around it for its legs to loosen her grip. It tossed its head, nearly goring her (and a tusk did slice her side, the giantess’s blood a comforting, mortal red) but she held onto her spear and used it to leverage herself, riding the movement out.

Watching her move was captivating, enthralling even (although, that might have been the bloodloss talking). She was strange, and beautiful, and she’d just saved Marielle’s life.

She ripped the boar spear out and attacked the other side of the goddess’s face. Again, one nostril, again, the other. Once more, the final blow, right in the open mouth. Its wicked teeth crushed the spear, wood splintering, but the goddess--a goddess--was already in its death throes. The giantess curled herself around its middle once more, only barely avoiding having her skull crushed by its massive legs, and constricted, and constricted, and constricted, until the goddess went silent, and its body landed heavily atop the scaled coils on the ground.

The giantess rose slowly, arms outstretched, and lifted her face to the heavens.

“Behold Yuiko! Godslayer!!!” she crowed, and birds would’ve taken into flight had they not already been frightened away by the goddess.

“Uh,” Marielle tried, her breath still shallow and too-fast.

“Oh shit!” the giantess yelped with a snap of her head, shoulders suddenly hunched. “You’re still alive!”

“Y-yes?!” Marielle squeaked, alarmed by how quickly she slithered over, by the intensity of her focus.

“Okay, okay shit shit fuck uhhhhhhhh tourniquet!” she shouted, then wrapped her tail around Marielle’s mutilated stump and squeezed. She screamed, thrashing sharply at the fresh agony.

“Sorry! Sorry! I have to cut off blood flow so you don't bleed out! More. Gee, you little folk sure bleed a lot huh?” ‘S why I figured you were dead. Sorry about using you as bait, by the way. I just can’t get ahold of those motherfuckers unless they’re busy--I’ve seen way too many people die approaching them from the front y’dig?--and you seemed like my best shot. Fuck, that makes me sound like a total ass, huh? My--most sincerely--bad, my dude. Hey so my name’s Yuiko!”

“...Hi?” Marielle said, her mind reeling.

Yuiko grinned wide, black blood splatters on her face and up her arms, her eyes squinting almost closed with her smile. Marielle wasn’t sure if she was actually smiling back or not.

“Hey you’re kinda pretty, you know that?” Yuiko stated with the same manic bluntness. “Like all shiny ‘n shit.”

“That… might be on account of the jewelry?”

“Yeah that too. I’m taking some of that as payment for totally saving you and stuff.”

“You’re uh, welcome, to it?”

“Anyway, let’s get you off this rock, huh? Kinda mean of that other lady to strap you down like this ‘n shit.”

“We, have bargained a yearly sacrifice with the greed-gods, so they, do not take from us all.”

“Whack. We just hide and try to kill ‘em before they kill us,” Yuiko said, undoing the first chain from Marielle’s wrist and leaving it on the altar.

“You people, have been able, to kill them?” Marielle asked incredulously.

“Well hey hey, it’s not as easy as I just made it look,” Yuiko said, slithering to the other side of the sacrificial slab without loosening the end of her tail from Marielle’s stump. “Most people die trying, and we haven’t had a successful deicide in 30 years.” She made two Vs with her fingers and crossed them over her chest. “Until today!”

Yuiko uncrossed her arms and stared at the goddess’s corpse victoriously, her grin wide and boastful, but then she seemed to settle into something more contemplative. Marielle used her newly freed hand to undo the lock on her other shackle, fingers shaking as she did, since Yuiko seemed occupied.

“Hey if I drank goddess blood whaddaya think would happen?”

“I don’t think you should do that.”

Yuiko’s body undulated, and she tilted her head. “Okay, but like, just a taste,” she said, eyes not leaving the goddess. Her head snapped suddenly down, to the drying tar on her hands and arms, and she slowly lifted the back of her wrist, tongue poking out.

“Um, Yuiko?”

Her attention surged back onto Marielle. “Fuck! Right! You’re dying!” She rejoined Marielle at the slab. “Okay tell you what. I’mma carry you back to my burrow and get you to the village crazy lady.”

“What?” Marielle squeaked.

“She’s a healer?” Yuiko said, as though that explained it. “Oh, shit, wait, I can see why calling her nuts would not instill a proper confidence in you. Don’t worry, she is totally legit. I get my girl juice from her on the reg.”

“What are you saying?”

“Okay so you seem sorta outta it. Probs cause blood loss. Don’t worry about it though I will get you totes taken care of I just gotta figure out how to like, move, y’know, without letting you bleed out.”

Marielle stared at Yuiko, and Yuiko stared thoughtfully back, fingers in an L at her chin and smearing god blood on her face.

“Wait I got it!” Yuiko exclaimed, lifting her arms and pulling off her shirt by the back collar. “Oh hell yeah I am so fucking smart.”

Marielle watched her begin to tear the shirt mutely, wondering if maybe she was dead and this was just an acutely peculiar afterlife.

A sound in the woods had both their heads snapping up, breaths quickening.

“The gods smell blood; we gotta bounce!” Yuiko hissed, tearing faster, tying the tourniquet where her tail had been, and threw Marielle over her shoulder.

“Hey so you never told me who you are!” Yuiko commented, slithering across the forest floor at a dizzying speed.

“My name is Marielle.” It was the last thing she said before she passed out.

@killtheprotagonist

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methethgfan · 4 years

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The 62nd Hunger Games

“Enobaria looks to be about thirty and all I can remember about her is that, in hand-to-hand combat, she killed one tribute by ripping open his throat with her teeth. She became so famous for this act that, after she was a victor, she had her teeth cosmetically altered so each one ends in a sharp point like a fang and is inlaid with gold. She has no shortage of admirers in the Capitol.” from: Catching Fire (Suzanne Collins)

Finally we‘re being launched into the arena. My heart beats hard against my chest. What‘s expecting us this year? I open my eyes and expect to see bright daylight, but the sky is pitch-black. I see a myriad of colours: dazzling, vibrant lights flash and flicker. A wagon slithers like a snake along an elevated and twisted railway. I hear cheerful music. I’ve seen this place somewhere before. But it’s deprived of joy. There‘s a strange feeling in the air. An eerieness I can’t put into words. Where am I, and how do I get out of here?

The Arena: “Daddy, look, a fair!” a Capitol girl shouted with excitement upon seeing this year’s arena for the first time. The children in the districts, however, frowned, thinking about where they had seen this place before. In picture books, if ever. And it looked mesmerizing. Flashing lights, colorful stalls, a gigantic wheel in the distance. A carnival. Being there in person was even better: the scent of spiced apples, sizzling hotdogs, and candy was in the air, making some of the tributes almost drool. But the more they digested their surroundings, the more frightened they felt, for there was something eerie about this place that none of them had entered before. The once spiralling, tumbling, turning machines were rusty; the food stalls empty; and the entire place abandoned. Wasn’t this place supposed to bring joy? Perhaps the tributes had expected this cheerful location to be more welcoming and, as ridiculous as it sounded, crowded with people. And the fact that their expectations weren’t fulfilled was unsettling. The dazzling lights and painted buildings being nothing but a shell, the giant wheel and other constructions only industrial remains left to rust away many years ago. It was good that their brains didn’t allow themselves to be deceived by their eyes – because this place had worse to offer.

The Tributes: Either the Gamemakers were particularly generous this year or the tributes were truly promising, as most of them received relatively high training scores. Therefore, it was difficult to say which of them had the best chance of winning. Viewers didn't quite know who to admire: The girl with a measly two who was somehow still alive? Or the boy from District 3 who was so eager to win despite the illness that limited him? Each tribute had something special about them - but some tributes still had something in reserve that they would reveal only at the very end...

The names of the tributes were…

Warning: Some readers might find the following text disturbing. Reader discretion is advised.

24. Denim Emerson (age: 17 | skill: x | training score: 4 | mentor: Suede Deer | days survived: 0): Female tribute from District 8. Denim had great recognition value thanks to the huge birthmark on her right cheek. Her stylist had managed to get her wiry, unruly hair silky smooth, and she looked stunning in her blue denim dress decorated with rhinestones (how appropriate for her). Her new look had boosted her confidence tremendously, as she giggled whenever Caesar Flickerman opened his mouth (a little too much, as some of the tributes thought). Immediately after the Games had begun, Denim ran toward the Cornucopia and received an arrow to her neck. She stopped, staggered forward, and then fell to the ground. Later, as the Careers walked along the bodies, the girl from District 4 poked the girl from District 2 in the side and pointed at Denim, who was lying there with her mouth wide open and her eyes glassy ("Oh, look, it's that chuckling girl.") Both girls laughed.

23. Yield Fetcher (age: 16 | skill: speed | training score: 5 | mentor: Chaff Morten | days survived: 0): Male tribute from District 11. Male tribute from District 11. The initial carnage at the Corncuopia was always brutal - but Yield's death was horrific in its own unique way. Like most of his opponents, he ran toward the Cornucopia at the beginning, grabbing various supplies along the way until he finally got to the weapons. He grabbed an axe and kept running. But then he tripped over tin cans on the ground, fell, and – crashed his head straight into the axe. The axe tore his face in half. After the bloodbath was over and just before a hovercraft collected the bodies, the District 4 boy spotted the axe still stuck in Yield's face and pulled it out. Satisfied, he looked at the axe in his hand and indifferently wiped the bloody blade on the hem of his jacket.

22. Marigold Ross (age: 18 | skill: bodily strength | training score: 8 | mentor: Aloe Vaughn | days survived: 0): Female tribute from District 11. Years of hard work on the plantations had made Marigold a strong, independent young woman. That she was drawn as tribute was a great loss to the other plantation workers – she would be absent for harvest season, of all times. Her stylist, a young and talented woman named Titiana who had recently graduated from fashion school and was now a rookie, didn't know what to do with her initially. Should she stick with her androgynous look? On the evening of the interviews, Marigold was barely recognizable: she was indeed wearing a dress, a white dress draped with real marigolds, which had also been drawn on the side of her face and tucked into her pitch-black hair. Her stylist had taken a risk and it had paid off. The dress didn't make her look ridiculous or harmless, quite the opposite, it showed how changeable Marigold was and drew all the attention to her. It was all the more tragic that this attention would do her no good in the arena, because Marigold had been targeted by the Careers after her interview with Caesar Flickerman at the latest. She was a strong competitor, and strong competitors had to be eliminated. As Marigold ran towards the Cornucopia, an arrow struck her in the back of the head and a knife in the back at the same time.

21. Fes Terrece (age: 18 | skill: x | training score: 5 | mentor: Cecelia Hayworth | days survived: 0): Male tribute from District 8. Looking at Fes, one didn’t feel like facing an 18-year-old. He still had a rather boyish face and was small in stature for his age, much like his mentor. But most viewers had stopped a long time ago making judgments based on a tribute's looks alone, because they had been surprised on countless occasions. In stark contrast to his appearance, Fes had an exceptionally deep voice that was downright booming. In the arena, he too headed for the Cornucopia - overriding his mentor's advice. A fatal decision because the next moment a knife hit him in the neck. The boy from District 2, who had paused for a moment to take better aim, then turned and ran in the opposite direction, looking for more victims.

20. Quantum Weir (age: 16 | skill: wrestling | training score: 7 | mentor: Ray Magnoly | days survived: 0): Male tribute from District 5. Quantum was one of the first tributes to reach the Cornucopia. But just as he was about to bend down for a camping tent, the boy from District 1 attacked him from behind and hurled him against the hard metal of the Cornucopia. Quantum dodged just in time, escaping the knife that had otherwise pierced his chest. Quantum then grabbed the boy's legs and jerked them towards him, causing the boy to fall to the ground. Immediately Quantum was on top of him and tried to take the knife from him. They wrestled for a while before the boy from District 1 finally managed to gain the upper hand with a powerful blow to Quantum's temple. He then plunged the knife into his neck, twisted it, and pulled it out again.

19. Daphny Barrow (age: 17 | skill: knot-tying | training score: 6 | mentor: Haymitch Abernathy | days survived: 0): Female tribute from District 12. The arena was so overwhelming for Daphny that she was still in trance after the Games had officially begun. The carousel’s lights were reflected on her olive skin, her hand gently stroking through her smooth, pitch-black hair. The agonized moan of a tribute dying nearby finally roused her from her lethargy. Daphny fell off her platform rather than jumping down, and stumbled forward a few steps, completely disoriented. What did she have to do again? Run away? Stay and gather supplies? She had best - bam! An arrow first pierced Daphny's right shoulder, the second her neck, whereupon she collapsed.

18. Jenny Ward (age: 14 | skill: photographic memory | training score: 7 | mentor: Amblin Sayre | days survived: 0): Female tribute from District 10. Jenny had taken a keen interest in the various stations at the Training Center and was just soaking up the knowledge. It was important to her to be well equipped for the arena – the more she knew, the better. The only thing she didn't approach were the weapons, as the mere sight of them made her nervous. She wondered how it felt to be impaled by a spear? Or to be pierced by an arrow? She didn't even want to think about that. To the puzzled Gamemakers, Jenny recited the botanical names, properties and benefits of all the plants available at the Training Center. As she stood on her platform, she tried to decide on one of the backpacks lying around. But there were so many of them that she couldn't even focus. She bit her lower lip and brushed her heavy, dark brown hair out of her face. The large, mustard-yellow backpack a little further away looked promising. And there was the gong. Jenny ran, ever forward toward the backpack. Then she saw the girl from District 1 running toward her with a saber. Jenny stopped abruptly. She was paralyzed with fear. The girl continued to run forward, lunged, and rammed the saber into Jenny's forehead. Her eyes rolled upward, and she fell backwards. The girl rolled Jenny to the side with her foot and jerked out the saber, which had blood as well as brain water on it.

17. Ruddy Einhausen (age: 13 | skill: x | training score: 2 | mentor: Yaw Balfour | days survived: 0): Male tribute from District 6. It didn't take much thinking to know that Ruddy was no match for the carnage at the Cornucopia. And anyone who thought he could somehow surprise the crowd and survive the carnage was just thinking too optimistically. Tributes like Ruddy made the same mistake every year, thinking that they would only survive the arena if they helped themselves to supplies at the Cornucopia. Sure, supplies could make survival easier, but the arena could also offer a lot if one only tried to get to know it better. And such tributes as Ruddy, who started the Games with a worry about survival from the beginning, were the exactly what others had been waiting for: easy prey. Ruddy dashed toward the Cornucopia and fixated on a large backpack. Then a serrated knife bored into his right temple, and he fell – directly on his right temple, so that the knife dug further into his head and cut through his brain.

16. Pollina Faunt (age: 14 | skill: x | training score: 3 | mentor: Blight Greyholme | days survived: 0): Female tribute from District 7. When it was Pollina's turn to be interviewed by Caesar Flickerman, she shuffled toward the stage, dropped into the chair, crossed her legs, folded her arms, and stared hostilely at Caesar. She didn't even try to hide her distaste for him and the people from the Capitol. Her attitude secured her a place – at the bottom of the popularity scale. Pollina was the last victim of the bloodbath: the girl from District 4 impaled her with her trident and Pollina bled to death.

The Bloodbath Ends – The viewers had seen enough for now and needed time to digest everything. But the Careers didn’t give them a break. Immediately after the bloodbath, after the bodies had been picked up, they set to work and went to the supplies at the Cornucopia. The boy from District 4 reached for a first aid kit to secure, but the girl from District 2 took it away from him. Then she turned to the others and held up the first aid box ("If we are going to trust each other with our lives, then the supplies belong to each of us. If you still take something unlawfully, you are committing theft.") The other Careers looked at each other, unsure if the girl was joking or serious. In previous years, everyone had taken something and there had never been any problems. But that wasn't all – the girl from District 2 went one step further ("I suggest that we each take turns completing a task. Two take care of the food. Two scout the arena. Two keep an eye out for tributes. And we determine when we eat and drink."). The two tributes from District 4 hesitated, but the couple from District 1, as well as the boy from District 2, were immediately on board. So they had no choice but to go with the majority.

15. Radia Hyde (age: 15 | skill: x | training score: 3 | mentor: Ame Somnia | days survived: 1): Female tribute from District 5. Radia belonged to the upper class of District 5. Her parents made their money in real estate. You could tell that Radia had a wealthy background: during her interview with Caesar Flickerman, she sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap. She was polite but aloof, and never showed emotions. She wanted nothing to do with the other tributes, for they were sorely lacking in manners. Therefore, Radia made her way through the arena on her own, which was a strange place for her as well. She sat down in a roller coaster car out of curiosity, but found that it, like all the other rides in the arena, was out of order. She opened the power distribution box and looked inside; maybe she could get the roller coaster running again. But a noise nearby made her cringe, and she ran away. A few minutes later, the boy from District 12 appeared, and he immediately noticed that the power distribution box was open. Suspiciously he looked around, but found no one.

In the late evening hours, Radia went in search of food, but couldn’t find anything. The other tributes had beaten her to it as they had plundered the food stalls. But Radia didn’t give up and continued her search. The Ferris wheel towering over her gave her an idea. She would climb up the seats to get a better view of the arena. Maybe that way she would be able to see where there might be some more food. But she bumped into two Careers who had had the same idea. Immediately they jumped down and ran after Radia. Soon they caught up with her, and the girl from District 4 rammed her trident into Radia's chest. Then she bent down to her, ripped her blue hair clip out of her hair, and held back her light brown hair with it (“Do I look cute with it?”).

14. Calvin Mendelsohn (age: 15 | skill: craftsmanship | training score: 7 | mentor: Corin Ainsbury | days survived: 1): Male tribute from District 10. It was ironic in a way that Calvin, of all people, was a vegetarian, given the fact that he lived in District 10. After seeing the horrible conditions at a slaughterhouse for pigs, Calvin's lips had never touched a piece of meat again. "I definitely ended up in the wrong district, Caesar," Calvin had admitted during his interview, "It's like a fisherman not eating fish." - "Interesting comparison. Maybe I should have asked the tributes from District 4 about their diet plan. But eventually you can do that yourself in the arena." - "Yes, just when? During the bloodbath at the Cornucopia or during the Feast?" The people laughed.

The Games started well for Calvin; he had secured a backpack and the mere fact that he had survived the bloodbath spoke for itself. In addition, he had found drinkable water at one of the many food stands. Now all he needed was a place to sleep. Calvin didn't have to search for long – he simply climbed onto the roof of a stall. Here he should be safe from others. A few hours later – Calvin had fallen asleep – he heard a clang directly below him and got up, alarmed. Carefully, he bent down and saw a boy apparently scanning the stall for food. Calvin waited until the boy was directly below him, then jumped down on him. Both boys fell to the ground and wrestled with each other for a while until Calvin wrapped both hands around the boy's neck (it was the District 3 boy) and squeezed. The boy from District 3, whose face was starting to turn purple, pulled something out of the side pocket of his pants and held it to Calvin's neck. The viewers couldn’t see what exactly it was, but in any case, it worked: immediately Calvin fell to the side, deathly pale and twitching uncontrollably all over his body. The boy from District 3 stood up, looked down at Calvin in exhaustion, rubbed his neck with one hand – and held his insulin syringe in the other.

13. Bevin Sharp (age: 18 | skill: pickaxe | training score: 7 | mentor: Haymitch Abernathy | days survived: 2): Male tribute from District 12. Bevin had started working in the mines only a few months before he was drawn as a tribute. That was illegal because he needed to be older than 18. But the shift supervisor was a family friend who turned a blind eye and registered him on paper as a year older. It wasn't long until his birthday either, and they certainly wouldn't pick his name from thousands of kids. Yet that is exactly what happened. The mayor suspended the shift supervisor and placed Bevin's family under house arrest for a week, which, in District 12, was synonymous to starving. At least Bevin had learned to handle a pickaxe during that time, so he didn't go into the Games utterly inexperienced. His handling of the weapon impressed the Gamemakers, and they gave him seven points. It had been a long time since anyone from District 12 had received such a high training score. With renewed confidence, Bevin went into the Games. But as they say – pride comes before a fall. At the bloodbath, he hadn't been able to procure a pickaxe, but at least he had hit the District 2 boy in the head with a frying pan. Later, he armed himself with a brick and the lid of a tin can. He immediately went looking for trouble and found it with the girl from District 3, who turned out to be deadlier than he had expected.

12. Gamma Yamaha (age: 14 | skill: fork | training score: 2 | mentor: Wiress Thorner | days survived: 2): Female tribute from District 3. It was almost a miracle that Gamma had survived the initial carnage at the Cornucopia, considering she was constantly daydreaming. For hours she would go unresponsive. Her eyes would grow wide and sometimes she would whisper to herself as if she were talking to someone. For this reason, none of the tributes had approached her. She was strange. Even during her interview with Caesar Flickerman, she wasn't completely there, which is why Caesar had to repeat his questions several times ("Looks like somebody here wasn't able to have a good night's rest. It's the cushions, I told ya to swap them long ago.") As usual, Caesar's funny remarks saved her interview from being forgotten. Surprisingly, Gamma was one of the first tributes to run towards the Cornucopia and not away from it. A pink backpack had caught her attention from the start. Pink was a pretty color. She had grabbed the backpack and made a run for it again. It was unusual to see Gamma in action like that. She opened the backpack and examined its contents. An empty water bottle. A spoon and a fork. If she didn't want to spear the air with the fork, she had to hurry to find food before it got dark. Gamma searched the food stalls one by one, but found only a few scraps of food here and there, such as half a sausage or a burnt pancake. But still. The next day, she would search the remaining food stalls. Then, after a long search, she found a teacup-style carousel, climbed into one of the teacups, and laid down on her ear.

The next day, she looked for drinkable water, but found nothing. She stopped, stretched out her hand, looked up at the sky, and pointed a finger at her palm ("Water.") But nothing happened. So she got into her teacup again and lay down, staring wide-eyed at the dark gray sky. A few hours later, her ever-increasing sense of thirst forced her to go in search of water again. She saw a flock of ravens sitting on the roof of a ride nearby. Somewhere in her foggy mind, she thought where there are animals, there must be something to drink. She walked past the line of ravens, all of which eyed her suspiciously, and then came to a halt in front of the back door of a small hut. Cautiously she entered and saw nothing more than a simple table and a worn chair. On the table was a small microphone. Gamma was smart enough to figure what this little booth was for: probably playing music over the microphone or talking into it to attract guests to the ride. But there was something else on the table: a plate with some dry cookies on which a raven was pecking. Gamma shooed the raven away, accidentally hitting the microphone. No harm done. She made a beeline for the cookies, nibbling on them one by one. But what she didn't know was that she had accidentally turned on the microphone, and now any of her opponents could hear the cookies break apart inside her mouth. The audience wanted to shout at her to get out of there as fast as possible before other tributes followed the sound.

And that's exactly what happened. Gamma stepped out of the booth and – faced the boy from District 12. He didn't hesitate for a second and punched her in the face. Gamma howled in pain and fell to the ground, but rolled away in time, and the boy from District 12 landed on the hard ground where she had been lying earlier. She pulled at his hair and scratched his face. But the boy was too strong for her: he grabbed her by the shoulder, pushed her away from him, and turned sideways with her so that he was now sitting on top of her ("And, did the cookie taste good?") He had just uttered the sentence when a silver object bored into his neck – Gamma's fork. She pushed him away, got up, and pulled the fork out of the boy's throat. Cannon shot. Gamma stroked her upper lip with her finger and looked at the blood on her fingertip. At the same moment, a crowbar appeared above her head and hit hard against her temple; Gamma's eyes snapped open and she fell sideways onto the ground. The girl from District 6 looked down at her for a moment and then entered the hut, where she turned the microphone off again. She grabbed a cookie that had fallen to the ground and stood over Gamma's body, where she waited for the cannon shot. Then she walked away.

11. Brine Gregory (age: 16 | skills: axe, bodily strength | training score: 8 | mentor: Fenn Berlee | days survived: 4): Male tribute from District 7. He had had fifteen minutes to win the Gamemakers over. Brine had grabbed an axe – of course, what else – and had gone after the training dummies. As if in a frenzy, he had mutilated the dummies one by one, hacking them to pieces. With a sweaty face and breathing heavily, he had then looked up at the Gamemakers, who looked visibly surprised. They could always use irascible tributes. The three minutes with Caesar Flickerman on the Night of the Interviews felt like an eternity – visibly irritated, Brine tapped impatiently on the armrest of the chair, with the other hand he kept smoothing his pants. When would he finally shut up? For Brine, things always had to be quick. Short and straight to the point. No big words. His impulsiveness and impatience would later be his undoing.

Brine ran straight at the Cornucopia – right in front of its opening he had already seen from a distance the axe he desperately needed. But the boy from District 11 had gotten to it first. In a flash, he had grabbed the only axe in the arena. Brine didn't stop, though, and ran after him – until the boy fell to the ground and the axe dug into his face. Disgusting, but he had to go through that now: Brine knelt on the ground, flipped the boy onto his back, and was about to pull out the axe when the boy from District 4 pulled an arrow from his quiver, cocked it in the string, and released it. Fortunately, Brine had noticed him, so he simply rolled to the side. Then he looked up again. The boy calmly attached the second arrow, but this time Brine didn't even have to wait for him to shoot the arrow at him. He stood up and zigzagged away – with nothing in his hands. Nothing at all. Except the dirt of the ground. Why would anyone from District 11 grab an axe? He could scream with rage!

Brine kept a surprisingly low profile in the days that followed, perhaps because he didn't own a weapon. But he kept an eye out for tributes who had a weapon he could do something with. On the third evening, the Careers passed by his hiding place – Brine had hidden in the small space between two rides – but didn’t notice him. At dusk the next day, Brine finally found what he had been looking for: the axe. The District 9 boy was holding it in his hand while rummaging through a trash can for food. Brine immediately ran up to him without having thought about how to get the axe. The District 9 boy turned out to be extremely dogged. With all his strength he held on to his axe. Then both boys fell to the ground and rolled down the paved slope. The District 9 boy picked himself up and was already bracing himself for the counterattack, but then he saw his opponent still lying on the ground with the axe stuck in his head. The District 9 boy backed away in disgust, then fell to his knees and threw up. Brine picked himself back up and staggered back and forth until his body finally gave way and he slumped. Foolish as the District 9 boy was, he ran away without taking the axe. And so Brine, with the axe still stuck in his head, was picked up by the hovercraft – and the axe left the arena forever.

10. Riparian Stern (age: 16 | skills: archery, precision | training score: 9 | mentor: Jiggs Amell | days survived: 5): Male tribute from District 4. Riparian, who everyone just called "Ripp," moved slower than the other Careers, but he hit every target. No one got away from him. At least not alive. From childhood in District 4, he had helped his father, who earned his living by fishing. His dark brown skin was littered with small scars from cuts – hands, arms and even his face – making him look savaged at first glance. But when he laughed, every inch of his face laughed along with him, and mysteriously, for that moment, all the scars disappeared from his face. Riparian was very quiet and reserved. He radiated an immense calm, which made him seem indifferent. He was also unhappy with the leader of their alliance, the girl from District 2, whom none of them had made leader. She reserved the right to order them around. And although most of what she said was quite logical, it was her stern and know-it-all manner that bothered him so much about her. His dissatisfaction grew more and more every day, until finally, on the fifth day, he made a grave mistake that cost him his life.

9. Dawn Alster (age: 17 | skill: trident | training score: 9 | mentor: Eunice May | days survived: 5): Female tribute from District 4. Dawn didn't endear herself to any of the tributes due to her catty nature. She laughed mockingly at tributes who dropped weapons on the ground or missed the target. Only towards the other Careers she was more polite; after all she would need them in the arena. She pretended to be the “friendly girl next door” during her interview with Caesar Flickerman, but her smile looked so forced that it made it seem like someone was making her do it at gunpoint. Hopefully, I made some of the sponsors like me. And if not, I will simply convince them of my fighting skills. She had found her ally, the girl from District 2, to be a pleasant comrade at the Training Center, but she was becoming increasingly obnoxious in the arena. All her talk about honor and the stupid rules she imposed on everyone were getting on her nerves. Ridiculous. Was this supposed to be a military camp or the arena? But because the majority was for her and not against her, Dawn had no choice but to obey. She talked badly about her behind her back, trying to persuade the others to stand up to her. But the others were either in awe of her or didn't feel like revolting.

On the third day, Dawn and her district partner roamed the arena to locate possible food sources. They entered a creepy house with long, tangled corridors. Suddenly they stopped because something had fallen to the floor. Hesitantly, they took a step in that direction, when suddenly loud trampling was heard. They stopped, rooted to the spot, and only when they saw the rats with huge teeth did they turn around and run away. Carnivores, for sure! Somehow they found the way out and ran into the open. Both leaned against the wall, breathless and sweaty. They told their allies about their discovery, and the boy from District 2 added "rat trap" to the map he had created earlier. Dawn grabbed a water bottle from a box, but the girl from District 2 held her arm back ("It's not time for drinking yet." – "I guess I deserve it. I just escaped a bunch of rats. I'm exhausted." – "But it's not time for drinking yet."). Annoyed, Dawn dropped the water bottle back into the box. Now that was enough! Was she not even allowed to drink when she had to?

That same evening, Dawn went off again with her district partner under the guise of scouting. They voiced their displeasure with the alliance and conferred on how to get rid of the girl from District 2 ("Poison?" – "Too dangerous. We could get caught with it, or kill the wrong one." – "What else?" – "Escaping seems to be the only sensible thing to do." – "Oh, I just hate her, Ripp!"). So the two planned to put their plan into action as soon as possible. But as they tried to sneak away on the fifth night with bulging backpacks, they were discovered. During their escape, the boy from District 4 was executed with a knife thrown by the boy from District 1. Dawn was captured. They tied her up and left her on the floor to confer among themselves. Then the four Careers appeared, three of them carrying torches. The girl from District 2 pulled Dawn up and leaned her against the Cornucopia ("I warned you. Theft is a capital crime. And desertion even more so."). She took a few steps back. The boy from District 1 put an apple on Dawn's head ("If you shake, you'll only make it harder for yourself."). The girl from District 2 raised her arm – in her hand she held a knife. Slowly Dawn realized that they were serious ("You can't do that... We are allies!" – "We were, until you decided to strike out on your own," the girl from District 2 replied. "Why don't you all say anything? She's nuts!" Dawn shouted.) Sweat ran down her face. No one would help her. This was the end. The knife flew at her and dug into her forehead. The apple fell to the ground and rolled at the feet of the girl from District 2. She picked up the apple and bit into it.

The Fun Starts – On the sixth day, the rides that were dispersed among the arena started to work again. The Ferris wheel spun around, offering a fantastic view of the arena. Soft music was played over speakers. However, when tributes started chasing one another or were running away from mutts, the music would become louder until it got deafening. The tributes, excited that the amusement park had finally come to life, tried them out one by one. Why not have a little fun before they died?

8. Winno Reed (age: 16 | skill: hiding | training score: 5 | mentor: Farina Arden | days survived: 7): Male tribute from District 9. Winno and his district partner weren’t strangers to each other – they were neighbours. In all the years they had lived next to one another, the girl had never acknowledged Winno’s presence. Only recently had Winno realized that she meant more to him, so he tried, in vain, to get her attention. When she was standing on the stage, just reaped as this year’s female tribute from District 9, Winno suddenly felt the need to volunteer so he could accompany her into the Games. How stupid, but it wasn’t even necessary because fortune smiled on him when he heard his name being called a moment later. That’s destiny! What else could it be? Because out of thousands of boys, they had picked him.

Turned out not even the fact that he was her district partner now made her even slightly interested to get to know him. For the Gamemakers, Winno was just another average tribute, scoring a 5 because, after all, he had at least been able to lift some heavy sacks, even if for a few seconds. He was rather quiet during his interview, struggling to use Caesar Flickerman’s many attempts to engage in conversation with him for his own purpose. The viewers found him naïve, timid, and a little too good-hearted. Once he was inside the arena, their impressions of him turned out to be very accurate. He was able to obtain a small bag and a knife someone had dropped to the ground at the start of the Games before running far away as told. Seven days had passed since then, and everyone thought the same – why was he still alive? He hadn’t participated at the Feast – perhaps, in the end, he wasn’t that simple-minded – and in general, had been very cautious when moving around the arena. Winno wasn’t the first tribute to make it this far without coming across another player once. In fact, it happened almost every year that tributes outlived most of their opponents who were much more promising than them. A clever strategy, when you think about it, appearing threatening as little as possible so that there’s no one actively searching the arena to find you. Only Winno didn’t use any strategy at all, it just happened that no one came across him. But it changed in the afternoon of the eighth day, when Winno saw his district partner sitting on the stairs of the bumping cars’ platform, tying her shoes. “Olida!” he shouted with excitement.

The girl wasn’t even startled because she knew immediately who it was. She rolled her eyes and stood up, ready to leave. “Hold on!” Winno said, approaching her, still grinning. “What is it?” the girl said, shouldering her bag and adjusting her t-shirt. She still didn’t look at him. “I’m glad that we both made it this far. One step closer to home, aren’t we?” The girl walked away. “Given the conditions,” Winno continued, following her in a hurry, trying to keep up with her, “we must enjoy every second we’ve left, shouldn’t we? What about a kiss?” The girl stopped abruptly, looking straight ahead. “Come on, Olida. One kiss won’t hurt anyone.” Winno stepped in front of her, and for the first time, their eyes met. “You’re so clingy it disgusts me,” the girl said, looking him up and down. The next moment, Winno was holding up his axe, aiming at her (he had picked it up after the boy from District 4 had unknowingly dropped it to the ground). “Disgusting? Me?” he shouted furiously, the axe shaking in his trembling hand. “You do what you’re told! I killed someone already! Careful, or you’re next!” The girl looked calmly at the weapon, then said, “Goodness, what’s that?” But Winno didn’t put the axe down. “Drop that. Otherwise, I’ll assume you want to kill me, and I’ll fight back.” But Winno held the axe outstretched, now raising his voice, “Obey, or I’ll just force myself on you!” Now the girl was angry as well, shouting back, “I dare you!” She stepped forward and Winno slashed open her forehead. The girl paused, rolled up her eyes, and touched the bleeding wound. “I’m so sorry!” Winno said with genuine concern in his voice. “You injured me,” the girl said, still looking up. Then she looked at him (“What did this j*rk just do?”). Winno frantically shook his head, saying, “You made me do it!” The girl now glared at him, “I swear I’ll chop that little cucumber of yours and make a salad!” That’s when Winno knew he had to get away from her as fast as possible. He turned around and ran, the girl on his heels. Eventually, she outpaced him, pushed him to the ground, grabbed the axe out of his hands, and relentlessly thrusted it into him, across his body, 24 times. Unsuspecting that someone was standing behind her, ready to close in for the kill. Capitol’s favorite (8th-choice).

A Surprise Visit – The girl from District 9 turned around just in time to duck away because the boy from District 1 had just rushed forward to stab her. The girl from District 9 slashed open her attacker’s calf and forced him to retreat. The boy tumbled away immediately. Luckily, the girl wasn’t keen on running after him. One kill was enough for today.

7. Realm Balcove (age: 17 | skills: knives, gymnastics | training score: 9 | mentor: Rubin Coveney | days survived: 8): Male tribute from District 1. A bully at his school, Realm stood out with his boyish face and thick eyelashes. He would regularly scratch the pimples on his cheeks and make them bleed, especially when he was nervous. His stylist was clever enough to find a solution for him: She gave him silver gloves to wear. Realm was a skilled gymnast and had shown the Gamemakers a good mix of gymnastic exercises and throwing knives. He was trustworthy and kept his word and was very loyal to his district. Since his district partner was a representant of his district just like him, he trusted her with his life. Eventually, when the two went on another expedition, they met a gruesome end – perhaps the most gruesome so far. Capitol’s favorite (7th-choice).

6. Damask Darcy (age: 17 | skill: athleticism, sabre | training score: 10 | mentor: Luxus Lathmore | days survived: 8): Female tribute from District 1. It was thanks to a talent scholarship that Damask had made it into District 1’s Training Academy: her family had had no means, and even if, it had never been their wish to train Damask for voluntary participation in the Games, but to prepare her for the worst of all cases, should her name ever be called out at the Reaping. But it didn't have to come to that, because Damask wrote her name in the death lottery herself as she raised her hand and – amazingly, no other girl had volunteered – climbed the steps to the stage. When her mother came into the Justice Building afterwards to say goodbye to her daughter, Damask stood up delightedly and walked toward her mother ("Mommy, I volunteered, for you!") But her mother slapped her across the face and Damask fell to the ground. The Peacekeepers watched in amazement. With teary eyes, she got back up and fixed her hair. She had imagined her mother's reaction quite differently. After all, she was only trying to help her to make it out of poverty! It was ironic that her parents had named her after the expensive damask, of all things, one of the highest quality fabrics in the world, even though they could never afford it. But if Damask won, she could afford that and much more.

Damask tried to be more confident, but her mother's reaction to her voluntary participation was getting to her. The slap still echoed in her ear. She wrapped herself in a scarf – at the height of summer – and pulled it up so no one would see the slap mark when she got off the train. Her makeup team later concealed the red mark on her cheek, and Damask was officially camera-ready. Viewers liked her, she had a pleasant way of talking, and was exceptionally polite to Caesar Flickerman. It was fascinating how many other tributes lacked good manners. In training, Damask had done her best to convince both her fellow tributes and the Gamemakers of her abilities, because she always felt the need to prove herself all over again. Perhaps she felt inferior to other Careers who had been trained not thanks to a scholarship but to their families' money. Of course, there was no question that she would ally herself with them. After all, that was exactly what she had trained for.

In the end, however, the alliance looked quite different. Neither Damask nor the others had a say – all decisions were made by the girl from District 2 alone. Damask understood why she, of all people, had made herself leader – after all, she radiated authority – but sometimes she pushed it a bit too far. Still, if she wanted to survive, she had best obey. And so Damask put a good face on the matter. She noticed that after the tributes from District 4 had tried to escape and perished, the girl from District 2 avoided leaving Damask and her district partner alone for a longer time. But there was no need for that because neither Damask nor her district partner intended to escape. Nevertheless, Damask managed to persuade the girl from District 2 to allow her explore the arena with her district partner. Both left their backpacks behind to show that they would definitely return. A sponsor sent them bottles of water and two ground beef sandwiches each. What a luxury! Into the evening hours, they explored areas they had never been to before. They paused at a game booth where darts could be thrown at balloons. Damask picked up a dart, hurled it at a balloon and hit. With a loud pop, the balloon burst. Damask and her district partner laughed. The bang echoed in the arena.

They paused. The loud popping sound was still reverberating. Slowly they became uneasy. They turned around and were about to leave when something moved behind them. They looked back and saw a colorful figure standing in front of the balloons. It was wearing a clown wig, a colorful costume, and makeup. Without warning, the clown jumped over the counter, and Damask and her district partner ran away in a panic. More and more clowns appeared behind them. Damask looked back and realized that the clown had no eyes or mouth. Instead, they had been painted on his dirty face. A disgusting stench spread from them. Now they tried to save themselves on a ride – an octopus with small seats attached to its tentacles. But it was no use. The clowns jumped madly onto the seats – some fell back to the ground or were struck by the spinning seats, but some managed to grab Damask and her district partner by the ankles. The two kicked frantically. Damask shrieked and completely lost her composure. The clown mutations pulled them to the ground by their feet, jumped and dismembered them. Capitol’s favorite (5th-choice).

5. Manual Dahl (age: 17 | skills: bodily strength, close combat, orientation, syringe | training score: | mentor: Beetee Latier | days survived: 10): Male tribute from District 3. Manual was diabetic, so no one knew for sure if he would even be able to participate in the Games. After his name was read out at the Reaping, the mayor informed the supervisors about Manual's illness, and to everyone's surprise, they approved his carrying vital medication, which included an insulin syringe and a spare syringe. The only problem, however, was that they wouldn’t supply him with any more medication – Manual's supply, however, was only enough for a maximum of two weeks. That shouldn't really be a problem, Manual thought to himself, since most Hunger Games had also only lasted a maximum of two weeks. Well, most of them. Nevertheless, he had to hurry, because he wanted to survive the Games at all costs.

Intellectually, Manual may not have been on par with previous tributes from his district, but he possessed other qualities. The audience perceived him as very self-confident. He was playful and also joked about his own illness, which made him approachable and likeable. They liked him a lot. Yes, why not have a winner from District 3 again? However, he had to get rid of his habit of scratching his throat every time, as he had done during his interview with Caesar Flickerman. His neck was still red when he was transported into the arena with the other tributes. With one hand he clutched the belt pack he wore around his waist, which contained his diabetes medication.

Manual survived the carnage, but only barely. The girl from District 7 had reached the backpack at the same time as him and both had tugged at it for a while until Manual had hit her on the nose with his fist. A few minutes later, he was already scouring the arena for food. But most of the food stalls contained sugary food, which he wasn’t allowed to eat because of his condition. But he was lucky – a little further away he found some apples and even nuts. He was also quick to find water: he found about a liter of water in a tank underneath a water slide. Only a few hours later, he was attacked by the boy from District 10 and barely survived. He had already escaped death once, and he didn’t want to be ambushed a second time. He would look around more carefully from now on. But somehow, he didn't seem to succeed, because on the eighth day he ran into the girl from District 9, who was just coming out of one of the portable toilets that were to be find all over the arena. Immediately they backed away from each other, ready to fight. But then the girl from District 9 laughed, her laughter becoming more and more hysterical, forcing her to sit down on the steps of the portable toilet. Manual raised an eyebrow at first until he had to start laughing too. That felt good to laugh again after so long. As if they weren't facing each other as opponents in the arena, they started a conversation. But the audience noticed that neither one of them had mentioned having already killed another tribute.

An alliance was formed. Manual initially thought about whether he should just get rid of her. But he found that both sides benefited from the alliance. The girl was fearless, ready to roam the arena at any time, and managed not to attract any attention. Manual knew where to find food and had already amassed an impressive supply. Together they provided cover, and it felt incredibly good to have someone at his side. He would kill her as soon as the other tributes were eliminated. Now he needed his fearless ally. When the rides came to life on the tenth day, they tried them out one by one. First the roller coaster, then the Ferris wheel, then the carousel, the bumping cars... Manual had never had so much fun in his life! If he had known that he had only a few hours to live, he would certainly have tried the "Tower of Doom."

As they strolled back to their hideout, exhausted from all the driving, they spotted the two tributes from District 2 rummaging through their belongings. Immediately, the two gave chase. Manual and his partner ran to the roller coaster and jumped into the box that had just stopped. The two from District 2 hadn’t made it in time. Instead, they ran along on the ground. The roller coaster took them to the other end of the arena. There they got off and ran toward the Cornucopia. All they had to do was get there before the others did. Manual and his partner looked in the pile for weapons but found nothing. They looked around and discovered a box on top of the Cornucopia, where they were sure the weapons were stored. How clever! The Careers had made it harder for anyone to get to the weapons in time, because one had to climb on the Cornucopia first. A few minutes later, they appeared. How was that possible? Had they flown? Manual grabbed a frying pan.

A fight broke out. The girl from District 9 swung her axe threateningly in front of the boy from District 2, who backed away. Manual, meanwhile, took on the girl from District 2. He abruptly jumped on top of her, which she didn't expect. He pushed her arms down with his knees and rummaged around in his pocket. Then he pulled out something that glittered in the moonlight: the insulin syringe. The girl managed to get one arm loose, and pushed against Manual's arm. But Manual grinned. Not a chance. She was as good as dead. "Now don't be like that. It's just a little sting." Suddenly the girl's head shot forward and dug into Manual's shoulder. It looked for a moment as if they were hugging each other. Manual's hand shook and he dropped the syringe; his eyes and mouth opened wide. The girl jerked her head back and then forward again. She tore out his throat – with her bare teeth! The boy from District 2 and the girl from District 9 stopped and watched, stunned. Manual rolled off to the side. He was dead. The girl scrambled to her feet, her mouth covered in blood. She looked at the other two tributes, who were now running away. Capitol’s favorite (6th-choice).

The Shock Effect: Speechless, viewers watched as the girl from District 2 stood up. She looked at the moon, which cast a blinding white light on her face. With the bright red blood around her mouth, she now looked even more grotesque. Then she opened her mouth, revealing her equally bloody teeth. She grinned. The Gamemakers were furious, but for a very different reason: the boy from District 3 had betrayed their trust and used his drugs to kill. The first time it hadn't bothered them much, because then the boy had acted out of self-defense. But this time it was quite different. This served as a precedent, because after that incident, they didn’t allow any tribute with pre-existing conditions to bring any type of medication into the arena. However, if their illness was serious, the person was deemed ineligible for Reaping.

4. Olida Ashleigh (age: 15 | skills: ballet, speed, wrestling | training score: 9 | mentor: Orzo Paxton | days survived: 11): Male tribute from District 9. There were no words that could truly describe Olida’s beauty. She looked aristocratic with her upturned eyes, high cheekbones, thin lips, and sharp chin. But when she was angry, she made a terrible face, making her look so incredibly ugly that there was no trace of her beauty left. Like the day her district partner had threatened to force himself on her. She hadn't killed just any boy from her district, but her neighbor. The son of the mother she had always asked for knitting yarn when her mother had run out of it. But he had left her no choice. Viewers constantly mistook Olida for the girl from District 6 because they looked so alike from certain angles; the difference being that Olida looked far friendlier.

After getting over the shock of the brutal death of her ally, she abruptly stood up and walked onto the platform where the bumping cars stood. The colorful spotlights bathed her in a warm light. Then Olida began to dance ballet. It was her way of dealing with the harsh reality of the arena. Her movements were so graceful that she looked elegant even in her blood-soaked, dirty arena clothes. She interrupted her dance when a sponsor's gift landed on the floor beside her. Honey cake. Cinnamon cookies smeared with honey. Milk with honey. Her mentor knew how much Olida loved honey. "Thanks," Olida said, taking a bow. Just like the ballerina she was. As she ate the cookies, blood dripped onto the honey glaze. She grabbed her forehead, the wound had reopened, probably during the fight with the boy from District 2. A little later, she went in search of water, as her water supply was running low. She heard popping sounds a little further away and went towards it: the girl from District 6 was standing at a stand where one had to shoot rubber ducks with a shotgun containing corks as ammunition. Olida stood there for a while watching the girl when she suddenly turned and shot in Olida's direction. Olida backed away and the girl started laughing ("Hey twin, you're still not dead?"). Olida turned and ran away. The creepy girl. A shiver ran down her spine. Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't even notice the boy from District 2 who slit her throat with a sword. But Olida didn't die right away, so the boy leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Don't worry, I won't let her win." Who? The girl from District 6? His district partner? The boy from District 2 rammed his sword into Olida's chest, killing her this time. Honey was still on her lips. Capitol’s favorite (2nd-choice).

3. Knox Sorpin (age: 18 | skills: knive throwing, sword fighting, structuredness | training score: 10 | mentor: Caliban Sykes | days survived: 12): Male tribute from District 2. When Knox was little, older students had pushed him to the ground in the school yard and Knox had broken his nose. But he grew into a handsome young man, and when he stood on stage for the first time, it was obvious how masculine he looked in contrast to the other male tributes. He had shorn his dark brown hair and trimmed both of his eyebrows in the middle. Not a bad decision, as he looked menacing, which would certainly be an advantage in the Games. In fact, none of the other tributes came close to him. During the carnage at the Cornucopia, one of the tributes gave him a blow to the head. The wound started to bleed again and again, so Knox later wrapped a white bandage around his head. He had to change the bandage multiple times because it was immediately soaked with blood again, and at some point, he let it go. He liked his district partner's rules. They indeed provided a certain structure, a certain flow. In recent years, the Careers had clashed with each other because of a lack of rules. And it had been an eternity since anyone from District 2 had won (“The crown belongs to District 2 this year,“ Knox had told Caesar Flickerman).

On the tenth day, they ran after the two tributes from Districts 3 and 9, but didn't make it to the roller coaster in time. So they looked around and Knox pointed to the bumping cars. They both jumped into one car each and rode after the roller coaster. The viewers’ excitement had reached its peak. Would the two be able to catch up to them? However, after his district partner had turned out to be a monster, Knox had run away in dismay. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. Maybe the girl from District 4 had been right – maybe his partner really was nuts. On the twelfth day – Knox had by now processed the shock – he set out on his evening search for food. He sat down on the steps of the carousel and bit into a dry loaf of bread. Silence. He became suspicious and stood up. Something heavy fell on him and the next moment he felt a sharp pain on his neck. Knox slid to the ground and turned around: the girl from District 6 was standing over him, staring at him blankly. She had sat on the swing and waited until she was above him and then jumped down on him. Knox grabbed his neck and squirmed around on the ground in pain ("What did you do to me?"). The girl from District 6 picked up the bread Knox had dropped. She smelled it, grimaced, and threw the bread away. A few minutes later, Knox's heart stopped, and he died a miserable, slow death. Capitol’s favorite (3rd-choice).

2. Solin Massy (age: 18 | skills: crowbar, medical knowledge, hiding | training score: 8 | mentor: Zea Basette | days survived: 13): Female tribute from District 6. “My father is a doctor,” Solin said after Caesar Flickerman had asked her to introduce herself. She tossed her silky hair back and continued, "Thanks to him, I have a thorough knowledge of medicine: I know how to help people – but I also know how to kill them easily. Painless or painful. Fast or slow. You choose." This was a clear message to her opponents, who were visibly uneasy at these words. What could this girl, this devil, do if they were at her mercy? Solin had been watching her opponents very closely. The plump girl from District 10 with her dry skin, tired eyes, and hoarse voice. She was always so exhausted after the slightest exertion, and her hair had fallen out in some places. Hypothyroidism. The sclera of the boy from District 8 was discolored yellow. No doubt about it – jaundice. The boy from District 5 with the reddened face, who always looked so exhausted, for which his large circles under his eyes were mostly to blame. She had watched him press a cloth against his bleeding nose at the training center. Hypertension. And as for the boy from District 3, well, all she had to do was take away his insulin, and dead meat he was.

The Careers had listened up at these words. They hadn’t considered Solin a serious threat before. She was definitely not an ally, because if what she said was true, she was capable of anything, and they had no need for poisoned drinks or secretly planted drugs. But Solin would get to her opponents anyway. She tied her hair into a braid as she stood on her platform waiting for the gong. She didn't even need to look for poisonous plants because she wouldn't be able to find normal plants here. But there were so many other possibilities... The Gamemakers caught themselves more than once watching Solin longer than her competitors. In all fairness, she had talked big.

Another of Solin's talents was hiding. In an instant, she was swallowed up by the ground. The cameras sometimes had great difficulty catching her. Like a ghost, Solin wandered through the arena. Using the crowbar she had collected from the Cornucopia, she gained entry through locked doors. Then, a few days later, she made a spectacular discovery – she found a refrigerator room. The food inside the few boxes - fruit, vegetables, even a small package of salami – hadn’t yet gone bad. Proof that the cooling chain had been interrupted just hours before their arrival. Like everything else, it indicated that this amusement park had been used just a few days ago. In the corner of the room, she found a small canister that contained gasoline. Who stored gasoline in a cold room? She took the canister as well as the food, locked the door again and went to her hiding place. She tied her oily hair back. For the first time in days, she now had a decent meal. Solin kept peering from afar at the Cornucopia to see what the Careers were up to. This was also the case that evening, when the girl from District 2 ripped open a boy's throat. Although Solin was also stunned for a moment, she quickly pulled herself together and ran to the boy's body as soon as the girl had walked away. She took his belt pack, which contained, among other things, the spare syringe. The boy had already used up his supply of insulin. Funny. So he would have died very soon anyway.

Immediately after, Solin filled the reserve syringe with gasoline, a fuel that was dealt with daily in District 6. The whole district reeked of it. Coupled with her medical knowledge, however, this fuel was also useful for something else. Injected intravenously, it could cause circulatory collapse, heart failure or lung damage – if not all at once. In either case, it was highly toxic and deadly, because the human body had no way to cope with benzene or toluene, and therefore had no defense mechanisms at the ready. Moreover, death was extremely slow and agonizing. As expected, the boy from District 2 writhed on the floor like a snake.

On the thirteenth evening, Solin climbed the Ferris wheel to see if the girl from District 2 was anywhere to be seen. She wasn’t afraid of her. It would be child's play to give her a lethal injection. The girl from District 2 spotted Solin's blowing hair in the dark sky and ran toward the Ferris wheel. She jumped into a box and looked up at Solin, who was now carefully climbing the pole that connected her box to the Ferris wheel. The girl from District 2 followed suit and kept climbing up to her, her sword clenched between her teeth. Solin took out the syringe and waited until the girl was within reach. Come on, closer. You'll have it in a moment.She clutched the syringe even tighter. The girl’s gaze fell on the syringe at that moment, and she opened her mouth. Dismayed, Solin noticed that her teeth were still covered with blood. The blood had already dried up in some places. The girl stroked her front teeth with her tongue. Suddenly, Solin was overcome with fear. She didn't want to end up like the boy from District 3, with her throat ripped out. Gurgling sounds coming from her lungs. Her own blood on someone else's lips. But the girl from District 2 kept climbing up ("Don't come closer!"). The otherwise composed Solin lost her composure for the first time. But the girl was drawing closer and closer to her... Capitol’s favorite (4th-choice).

1. Enobaria Ripley (age: 18 | skills: sword-fighting, knives, close combat, manipulation | training score: 11 | mentor: Brutus Ornathy | days survived: 13): Victor of the 62nd Hunger Games from District 2. Honor was a word Enobaria had been taught early on. When a tribute had been killed, with countless knife wounds and his face covered in blood, it was, "He died an honorable death, fighting for his country and his district." When the Peacekeepers marched through the marketplace to show their strength, it was, "They protect our country, observe our laws, and represent their district in an honorable manner." Honor. One word, many examples. Enobaria loved attending the weekly procession of Peacekeepers with her father. "When you grow up, Barbar, I would like you to join the Peacekeepers and make me proud." Her father, a teacher, had been denied membership because of health problems. So he had embarked on a career as a teacher, one of the most venerable professions in District 2, as they taught children from an early age the importance of discipline, honor, loyalty to their country, and strength, and thus were instrumental in spreading the Capitol's propaganda. But Enobaria didn’t want to become a Peacekeeper and follow the example of her uncles, aunts and cousins. Nor did she want to become a teacher. She wanted to be a victor. It had always awed her to meet a victor – be it in very mundane things, like shopping at the market, or just now during the Reaping. At the Training Academy. On television. Everyone in District 2 had the utmost respect for their victors, for they had put their lives on the line to best represent their district. One victor in particular appealed to her – Lyme Sabille, the strong woman who outshone even the strongest men. Enobaria wanted to be like that.

As a child, the Hunger Games hadn’t given her nightmares. When her peers had closed their eyes or hidden behind their parents in fear, Enobaria had been careful not to close her eyes so as not to miss a second of the action unfolding. Her friends didn't understand why it was necessary to watch the Hunger Games. "So that their sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain," Enobaria replied. "Sacrifice? They are murdered." – "You can't call it murder. They're already prepared to die, aren't they?" Quickly, her friends and all the other children who thought otherwise learned to keep their mouths shut. They didn't want to get into trouble with the Peacekeepers, after all. But Enobaria knew about more things than she let on. But some things were better left unsaid.

Enobaria participated – voluntarily – in the Hunger Games at a time when District 2 was in a kind of state of emergency. They hadn’t brought home another victor in ten years. The last victor, Lyme, had already aged by ten years. It was quite a mess when six more girls had volunteered at once, all ready to die. The Capitol escort had looked at them one by one, then pointed at Enobaria ("I pick you. Don't disappoint me.") She mounted the stage and scanned the crowd for her father. There he stood, tears in his eyes. Tears of joy. Enobaria captivated the people in the Capitol. Her smoky voice, heavy eyelids, and gleaming teeth made her irresistibly attractive. How good that she was already of age, some viewers thought to themselves. But Enobaria had no use for the people in the Capitol. She didn't even try to please them. But still, she had somehow managed to endear herself to them. Her training score played a role in that. Her opponents didn't know exactly what to make of her. Enobaria was polite to everyone and made small talk. Not because she was particularly interested in her opponents, but because she wanted to see what they were like, away from the cameras. Unobtrusively, she observed what the others were doing. Who had a knack for weapons, was particularly clever at setting traps or knew a lot about survival strategies.

In the arena, Enobaria immediately took over the leadership of the Career alliance. Rules were important for a community to function. Enobaria talked her allies into how important it was that one of them won this year. No Career had won in several years (the boy from District 4 who had won two years ago, well, it wasn't sure he had even been a Career). And if the Careers had had rules last year, they wouldn't have clashed. In truth, all Enobaria cared about was winning the Games. And if she didn't, it should be her district partner. They owed the crown to District 2. By making her opponents believe that one of them had to win at all costs, she pretended to not begrudge victory to each of them. And that they would only survive if they stuck together. With manipulative tricks like this, she managed to bind her allies closer to her.

Several days had passed since the brutal death of the boy from District 3, but the viewers still hadn't gotten over it. That the girl from District 2 was capable of such a thing terrified them and strangely excited them at the same time. They now saw the girl from a different light. But why didn't she at least wash her mouth? Had she forgotten about the blood? Or was she wearing the boy's blood around her mouth like a luminary? That was much closer to the girl's intention. On the thirteenth day, Enobaria was looking for the girl from District 6, her last competitor. She was cut from a different cloth than the rest, so she had to be especially wary of her. And there she was, as expected on the Ferris wheel. Enobaria followed her all the way to the top. The music around her was by now so loud that her eardrums were about to burst. Victory was now very close...

Enobaria's strategy worked: her blood smeared mouth panicked the girl, who now grabbed a bar to her right, but slipped and tumbled down the Ferris wheel, through the tangle of bars whose hard metal she kept hitting against. Then she came crashing to the ground, breaking her neck. Enobaria looked down at the girl's contorted body. The music stopped and the fanfares went off. Enobaria slid down, picked up the syringe that had rolled a little farther away, and pulled the trigger. Then she smelled the substance. Gasoline. You little witch. Was that what the boy from District 3 had wanted to inject her with? No, she later learned. She sat on a horse in the carousel and waited until the hovercraft came to pick up the girl's body. Then the hovercraft picked up Enobaria and she climbed the ladder with her neck stretched. From up here, the sea of lights looked phenomenal.

The audience at the Capitol went wild when Enobaria entered the stage in her red evening gown. Her lips were the same shade as her dress. A perfect color choice next to Caesar Flickerman's black hair and black lips. Together they watched the recap of the Games and Enobaria pumped her fist in the air. She had finally made it. The people of District 2 would now look up to her as well. After her victory, Enobaria kept wearing her red lipstick, which gradually became her trademark. As a memento of what she had done to the boy from District 3. But that wasn’t enough for President Snow. While he welcomed her efforts to please the Capitol, she could certainly go a step further. He ordered her to file her teeth into fangs and inlay them with real gold. And so she finally conquered the heart of the Capitol. Enobaria was always invited to high society parties at the Capitol, because she put everyone into a good mood. In District 2, Enobaria occasionally watched over the sword training, but otherwise lived a relatively secluded life. She donated to District 2's Peacekeeper Academy every month, something no other District 2 victor had ever done. As a result, the people of District 2 paid special respect to her. But Enobaria's good relationship with the Capitol didn’t last forever. It stopped when President Snow announced, in honor of the Third Quarter Quell, that this year's tributes were to be chosen from the existing pool of victors. That was a breach of the rules. An abuse of trust. It was unforgivable. For the first time in her life, Enobaria understood that the Capitol wasn’t her friend, but enemy. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing. But it was already too late for that realization. Capitol’s favorite (1st-choice).

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*Capitol favorites attracted Capitol citizens’ (and therefore whole Panem’s) attention the most. Various reasons for this included their unique skills, impressive deeds or exciting storylines. More screen time made it easier for them to survive in the arena compared to less noticed tributes (e.g. in terms of sponsor gifts). Also, there was a lower risk for them to be exposed to the Gamemaker’s arbitrariness (e.g. mutts, different dangers) due to contributing to the viewer’s excitement. The higher their placement (1st, 2nd, 3rd…), the better. Nevertheless, the possibility of encountering dangers in the arena was never completely ruled out.

Sorry for any language mistakes. English is not my native language. Please let me know about any mistakes I have made.

I’d be grateful for your feedback! I spend A LOT of time writing all of this, so I’d really like to know what you think.

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Finished recaps: The 1st, 25th, 36th, 50th, 65th, 68th, 69th, and 70th Hunger Games

#hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #thg #suzanne collins #panem #enobaria

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crownvetch92 · 3 years

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Light Eternal Chapter 1

The moon shown down on lush green leaves as a large shadow swooped down over a sea of trees. A shrill screech filled the air, scaring up massive amounts of birds and insects from the branches. Yellow eyes searched the resulting panicked swarm, honing in on a particularly plump partridge. Gigantic leathery wings beat as the large bat creature snagged the partridge with furry spindly arms, sinking it’s large claws onto it’s prey, killing the bird almost instantaneously.

With her prey in her claws, the bat creature landed on a sturdy branch, plucking feathers off her catch. It was an old habit picked up from her time living amongst mortal humans, before the rise of Vlad the Impaler, and subsequent fear of vampires took hold. She huffed, brushing scratching her ear with her wing claw, as her hands were busied with plucking the last feathers off, and disposing of them into the pitch black forest below.

Aside from her spindly arms she looked just like a giant version of a big brown bat, standing 6 foot from head to talon, and a wingspan of 10 feet. She gazed up at the stars, admiring their tiny flickering lights. She chittered in excitement as a meteor shower began to light up the sky above. She continued eating, discarding bones and inedible gizzards into the leaves below. Small scavenging creatures leaped through the branches below, squabbling over the scraps. They looked like pale, twisted, hairless monkeys with needle sharp teeth. They squawked and chattered, bickering amongst themselves. One was brave enough to sniff at the giant bat’s three taloned feet. She shifted away in disgust, kicking the vile scavenger away. The creature hissed, and jumped down to a lower branch.

The bat finished her nightly meal, and started grooming herself like a rat would. A flash of light caught her large yellow eyes. A meteor passed right past the tree line, and into the forest below. The she-bat sniffed at the air, and then skittered down the tree. The forest was impossibly dark, at least for mortal standards. It was like descending into the deepest part of the ocean, where no light could ever reach. The she bat maneuvered down, using only the sturdiest branches.

She sniffed the air, trying to pick up any strange scent left by the falling star. She followed a scent, that of heated stones. She looked around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Only the bioluminescent flowers that littered the forest floor dimly pulsed with faint light. The she bat huffed, nothing was there, her curiosity lead to disappointment. She scuttled back to her cave.

“Was your hunt successful Estelle?” Echoed a deep yet powerful female voice.

“She smells of blood and bone, arvak.” Came a deep male voice.

“You could say zat...” Estelle the she bat replied, flying up to a large stalactite and clinging to it, “Vat about you?”

Arvak, a large ice dragon looked up, her scales glittering pale blue, “Boar meat, again.”

“Still better zan nosink.” Estelle replied. Ragnar, a red scaled fire dragon, just grumbled in response. Food was more important now that Arvak was heavy with eggs. Most of Ragnar’s kills went to feed his lifelong mate.

“If only prey was as plentiful here as it was on earth before humans came to be,’ he griped.

“You could vedy vell move,” Estelle squawked.

Ragnar blew sparks out his nostrils, “It is not that easy bat,” he shouted, “The humans destroyed my wings!”

He spread his once glorious leathery wings, now nothing more than heavily torn, hole filled connective tissue. He had lost his ability to fly when mortal humans discovered weapons. “I cannot fly at all!”

Estelle held her comment. She just huffed, buried her head in her wing and fell asleep. The next few nights brought more of the same, but she decided to catch a few fat birds for Arvak to dine on while the eggs developed. Arvak laid her eggs a few days later. The eggs were healthy despite their small size. While the eggs incubated in Arvak’s care, Estelle hunted for herself.

While hunting, she noticed an oddly soothing floral smell. She followed the floral scent, finding an enormous white lily. Estelle sniffed around, something seemed different, aside from a new bioluminescent flower suddenly appearing in a place she knew so well. Estelle heard something, akin to a puppy’s whimper. She twitched her ear in the direction of the sound. She slowly turned her head, out of the corner of her yellow eyes, she saw motion.

“Is alright,” Estelle crooned, “I von’t hurt you.”

A small child emerged from the bush. She looked to be about 7 years of age. Her long hair was a dark blue, with small pinpricks of light, reflecting the night sky itself. The child wore a simple dress made of the same flower petals as the lily. It glowed white, making her exposed skin look ghostly pale. Her eyes glowed a vivid green, as her cat like pupils widened in silent panic at the sight of Estelle.

A tarantula sized jumping spider sat on her shoulder like a bird, reared in a defensive posture, fangs bared. It’s white fur bristling. Orange spots on the sides of it’s abdomen gleamed in the pale light from the flower, and 6 U shapes spots decorated it’s back. It was incredibly fluffy for an arachnid familiar, with large shining eyes facing forward, and 6 more smaller ones spread around the sides of it’s head. The spider had an incredibly cute features despite taking a protective stance. Estelle looked around, the bodies of several scavengers littered the area. Surely they caught a whiff of the new flower, hoping for a fresh meal. There were fang marks on each one’s hairless body, as well as sticky spider silk covering their grotesque, twisted faces. The little girl had numerous scratches on her legs, and dirt covering her feet.

“Don’t worry little von,” Estelle crooned, “I vill not hurt you.”

There was no response aside from trembling from the girl, yet the spider had eased up, putting it’s forelegs down. The spider still eyed Estelle suspiciously, chittering quietly into the child’s ear.

“Zat is a little better,” Estelle said soothingly, carefully walking closer before brushing the child’s tangled blue hair to the side with her clawed hand, “Vat is your name child?”

The girl gulped, “c-c-caeweth…”

A deep growl sounded, Estelle’s fur stood up, this creature sounded large.

“Ve must go,” Estelle whispered, picking up the girl and spider in her spindly, fur covered arms as a giant skeletal dog like creature with saliva covered fangs and bloody elongated claws trode onto the light of the giant lily.

The grave dog completely lacked eyes, sniffing about the flower with it’s exposed bony nostril holes. The flesh on the top of it’s muzzle had long been stripped away, leaving only exposed bone. The animal hungered, salivating and gnashing it’s teeth, trying to chew on a petal, and poke it’s nose in the flowers center. Estelle took advantage of the creatures distracted senses, and fled with young Caeweth back to the safety of the cave.

“Damn grave dogs,” Estelle said under her breath.

“What was that thing?” Caeweth whimpered as she clutched Estelle’s soft, thick, brown fur.

“A grave dog,” Estelle said a bit louder, “Humans thought a dog would guide them to ze land of the dead, so zey buried them in grave yards. Unintentionally creating a twisted beast vitch dines on all types ov fae.”

Caeweth clutched Estelle’s fur tighter, making Estelle wince slightly. The trip back to the cave went simply enough, as the scavengers and grave dogs were busy squabbling over meat scraps near the lily. Within the cave, Ragnar lifted his head, smelling an odd scent

“What have you brought this time, Estelle?” He growled, spewing sparks out of his nostrils.

Estelle lifted her wings, revealing little Caeweth, “I found her in the nick of time, any later and she voud haff become grave dog prey.”

Ragnar growled, “You do realize that is a Night Fae? If they find out, they could very well kill all of us without a second thought!”

“Vagnar,” Estelle said calmly, “She is but a child, born outside ze kindergarten, she vould surely haff died out in those voods. Vat vood Arvak say, hm?”

Ragnar huffed. Estelle had a point, Arvak’s motherly instincts would overturn any argument he had the audacity to come up with.

“Fine.” He growled, “But if any harm comes to my eggs, she will be left to the mercy of the forest.”

“Sounds fair,” Estelle nodded.

Caeweth had buried her face in Estelle’s fur, frightened by the loud confrontation. Estelle’s fur was so unreasonably soft, silky, and comforting, she was practically embedded in the cloud like softness.

“You haff nosink to fear little von.” Estelle cooed, moving deeper into the cave.

The sound of water echoed throughout the chamber.

“Where are we?” Caeweth asked tentatively.

“Zer is a spring here,” Estelle cooed, “a place to vash up.”

Caeweth dipped her toes into the clear water. The water was comfortably warm despite the underground temperature. She giggled as the water relaxed her sore muscles. Before she knew it, a silver comb was passed through her tangled hair, preening out all the knots that had accumulated over the past few hours. Caeweth washed off all of the dirt and sweat she gathered, and soon was wrapped in a warm blanket, placed on a soft, yet rudimentary, nest of straw.

“Do you feel better?” Estelle cooed softly, stroking Caeweth’s still wet hair, “never you mind Vagnar, he’s just grumpy.”

Ragnar huffed at the comment, laying down on the smooth stone floor of the cave. His tail twitched back and forth uneasily, red scales glinting in the soft light of the glow moss lining the crevices in the walls. He shook his horse like head, nearly hitting his ram like horns into the wall.

“Arvak better come back soon,” he muttered to himself.

Estelle was too busy soothing the little fairy child to sleep with lullabies and stories, while the jumping spider clung to the wall. Caeweth drew one of the nest lining cloths into her arms. She was not completely sure what was going on, but Estelle seemed nice enough. This was better than the alternative of being ripped apart by scavengers, or disemboweled by grave dogs. She yawned as her eyelids grew ever heavier, till she just drifted off into a deep sleep.

#fairy #fae #bat #shapeshifter #dragon #ice #fire #ice dragon #fire dragon #eggs #flower #lily #white #light #child #fairy child #fae child #fantasy #fairy tale

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kpopchangedme · 5 years

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Nocturna: Part II [M]

The fragile peace between undead and lycanth is imperilled your arrival to the Inferorum Castrum. Between the changing power dynamics of the wolf pack and the insatiable urges of the vampire king, you aren’t exactly sure where your loyalty lies.

Protagonists: Im Jaebeom | You | Bang Chan

Word Count: 5k

Snippet: Straightening, he gazes down at you, blood-red eyes roaming your exposed chest with a new kind of hunger. Apparently, even creatures of the night are men. “So,” he asks, challenging, “preferable?” Earlier you only feared him killing you, you didn’t even consider he could request something else entirely, crave more than your blood.

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

Stirring in your sleep, you roll on your side. It’s freezing. By instinct, you tug at the satin sheets covering you, still only half-conscious. There’s something abnormally cold and hard close, in a haze, you run your fingers on the mattress to find it. The object is smooth and elongated, you explore it, slowly opening your eyes as you reach its end; long, slim, soft, icy… Fingers.

You don’t own satin sheets.

Awakening in a rush of adrenaline you sit, jumping as far away from the corpse next to you as you can. You hit a stone wall in your haste. You’re in a dark room, you can barely see anything. Your entire body aches dolorously and, remembering the scene in the forbidden forest, you reach for your injured back. The skin that was torn apart is now silky and perfect, smooth as though it was all a bad dream, your face is the same. Cautiously, you rotate your shoulder, and the pain you feel tells otherwise. That, as well as all the holes and the dry blood stiffening your clothes.

Somehow you were healed and survived.

Your gaze falls to the inanimate corpse on the other side of the bed, you are beginning to distinguish his features now. Is this his doing? He seems dead and you might believe that to be true if you hadn’t seen him move and talk just fine earlier. His hair is charcoal, one with the darkness, but his skin is drained, so pale it’s translucid and dark veins course under it. He is gorgeous, but also undoubtedly evil. You shiver, staring at the dangerous resting vampire. The sun must still be up if he has brought you into his den. He probably feeds at night; it must be the only reason you are still breathing.

Millimetres by millimetres, you slide away on the canopy bed until you reach its edge. You keep your eyes on him, rendered statuesque by his immobility. When you’re toes touch the stone floor, you allow yourself a soft exhale of relief. He still hasn’t moved. This is your chance to escape. Your shoes and hunting gear are nowhere to be found, but you don’t waste time searching. Careful, you tiptoe to the other side of the darkroom. Already unlocked, the door opens on the end of a large stone corridor, sparsely lit by hung torches. You hesitate, having no idea how you got here in the first place, or how to get out. The vaulted ceiling is so high above your head, this place must be gigantic. Heart pounding, you glance one last time at the undisturbed vampire on the bed. Did he really heal your wounds? Still, you should run. It seems that’s all you’ve been doing today; running away. It started like any morning really, you aren’t sure how it turned out this wrong. One moment you’re hiding behind a bush on the outskirts of the forbidden forest, trying to get a clear shot at a deer, the next… You’re being chased by a giant demon wolf. Was it really Chan? It can’t be. You know the young trapper by heart, he’s sweet and funny. Suddenly you flush, remembering his nakedness. It's like a dark secret fantasy you didn't know you had... But what happened in the forest has to be real… Because you are here, but where is this place anyway? You’ve never seen anything like it.

It all happens in an instant. Your scream of terror doesn’t even leave your throat when you are suddenly yanked backwards. It is muffled by the cold hand gagging your mouth. Cold.

Dead.

The door shuts on the corridor, letting absolute darkness fall on the bedroom again. You didn’t see him coming, didn’t hear a thing, yet he’s caging you. Just like in the Forbidden Forest. The undead’s arm is wrapped around you, and he’s pressed against your back. This time, however, you aren’t dying, not yet anyway, not that easily. You feel way stronger. Struggling to free yourself from his embrace, you hit him a few times with all your might, but he doesn’t falter. When you bite his hand though, you get a reaction. He takes it back as suddenly as it appeared.

“Biting?” The vampire asks dryly, and you freeze, mortified. Slowly, he turns you in his arms, like a rag doll deprived of any free-will. “Irony isn’t lost on me...” His marble skin seems to glimmer in the darkness, sharp features emphasized by the shadows. “Do not venture out of here alone. Stay with me if you want to live.”

“P-Please... Don’t eat me...” You plea under your breath, gaze-wide as he stares back unemotionally at you.

“Eat you?” His lips stretch, uncovering perfectly aligned white teeth. This time, his fangs are nowhere to be found. “I don’t eat little girls...” The creature reaches for your hair, caging a strand between his long fingers. Leisurely, he lets them slide on the silk. “Not unless they want me to...” A shiver travels down your spine. “I healed you, tidbit.”

“Why?” At your question, the bloodsucker lowers his head into you, smelling your skin.

“Because,” he whispers, his nose diving way down and brushing your neck, “I don't like seeing sweet blood go to waste… I hate that Beta Dog... And you begged… I love when people beg me.” You’re frozen still as he replies, unable to pay attention. He's going to bite you at any moment, you're going to die. “Now you owe me.” You simply stand in the creature's arms, motionless, more and more unsure of what he wants. Why isn’t he biting you?

“O-Owe you what?” The words manage to exit your mouth miraculously, and he pulls back to observe your reaction.

“Your life. I’d like to propose a deal for it...” The vampire pauses, getting distracted, “You’re much prettier unbattered, tidbit.” Bringing two fingers under your chin to observe you, he holds it like it's something frail and precious. “Is there anything else you desire, other than your life?”

“G-Grandma… I need to return to my gran's h-house.” You seem unable to tear your gaze away from his mesmerizing dead irides. You’d do anything to get back home, return in one piece from this hellish hunt.

“I have been told that story before… The one with the big bad wolf.” He chuckles, barely audible. The elegant undead seems to ponder on something before speaking again; “One night.”

“W-What?”

“My price.” He specifies, sternly. “For your life and safe return. I’m being generous since you are from there.” Your village, so the legends were right. Vampires don’t usually murder people from Ianua.

“You won’t drink my blood?”

“Of course! One night to feed...” His index traces your jugular and your heart accelerates. “I really hate dogs.” He scoffs, clearly disgusted at the memory of the meeting in the woods. “You owe me a drink, tidbit.”

“Don't call me th-” Before you reveal your actual name, your mouth is covered.

“Identities have invaluable power here, walls have ears.” The creature whispers hurriedly, so close that you have chills. “Don’t give more than what I ask, or you’ll lose everything. One bite.”

“Then what?” You’re stunned when his hand disappears, and you’re sure your breath on his ear is the reason he slightly jerks back. “Can bloodsuckers really feed without killing humans?” That’s not what you heard from the legends.

“I’m not some barbarous monster, ignorant little girl.” Prideful, his eyes narrow, becoming two straight bloody cuts on his sallow skin. “I’ll escort you back to the outskirts of the forest before dawn, safely. You have my word, that's all I can offer. Do you take this deal?”

Like you have a choice, what are your other options really? You need to trust he’ll keep his promise. “Yes...” You agree, worried you’re making a deal with the Devil himself, or its spawn at the very least. “One bite.”

Instantly, his stone face slices apart, lips stretching on the same gloomy smile he offered earlier. Again, you are spun in his arms in a flash. He takes hold of your shoulders, immobilizing you. The creature's nose plunges into your neck, and you wait anxiously for his fangs to sting. It’s the tip of his tongue that grazes your skin first though. You don’t even try to pull away, too stunned. As if tasting you, the vampire leans closer. He traces a path up to a particular spot in the crook of your neck before pausing there, teeth beginning to dig in.

“Does it hurt?” You blurt out before your skin rips, and he stops.

“Not me.” The undead snickers, evidently finding your question particularly futile. “Don’t worry. The pain won’t last, your heart is beating too fast...” Shaking your head in a daze, you don’t notice the way his hand creeps up to cover your chest and feel its pulse. “You are lucky I am the one who raised and came to you. I am way more considerate than most...” He says the last sentence like he’s a benevolent saviour, not the leech parasite who is about to drain you. Hesitant, his mouth hovers above your skin before he sighs, straightening up. “There’s a way humans enjoy the bite.” He admits half-heartedly, fully letting go of you the first time.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Letting out a breath of relief you turn to find him already sitting back on the edge of the bed, on the other side of the room. He quirks a brow at your astonishment. Inhuman speed, right.

“Because... I didn’t think suffering would matter that much to you if I made it brief. You went through a lot worse in the forest. You seemed to be a fighter.” Of course, it does, perhaps vampires don’t know pain. They are dead after all. Glancing at the door, you make a silent choice; you’ve made a deal, so you won’t run. Although, you doubt you could make it far anyway.

“Do you not like it... That agreeable way?”

“Oh, I would.” The undead’s red eyes crease in amusement, aware of something you aren’t. “I just haven’t shared that with a mortal in a very long time. I hear the bite stings then, but in a very pleasing way.” “Is that possible?”

“It would warm you up for my feeding, but I doubt you’d enjoy it much... Not with a bloodsucker like me.” He sounds spiteful, making you regret your earlier choice of words. You didn’t even think the creature had pride to damage.

“I’ve been hurt enough today already...” You pause, but he doesn’t move one iota, a beautiful alabaster figure on the mattress. “Let’s do it… The agreeable way.”

“Are you sure?” He counters, way softer, mood shifting. If this back and forth goes on, the night will be over before any actual biting happens.

“Yes.” You insist, a lot less anxious since he almost seems concerned. The right corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk.

“As you wish, tidbit.” In a blur, the undead is standing before you again. “Close your eyes,” he commands and you hesitantly obey, still a bit wary.

He acts much faster once you do, starting at the brim of your jaw. You fidget when his mouth grazes your sensitive skin at first, not knowing what he’s expecting of you. His hands aren’t even holding you back this time, still, you try to remain in place. His cold lips explore your neck anew, leisurely trailing down. It’s different than before, now he presses them strategically along the way, tickling, almost like kisses. Goosebumps spread over your whole body as you stand there, unsure why you are not entirely hating this.

“Is that it?” You ask, surprised even though his mouth hasn’t come anywhere special yet. He laughs hollowly against your clavicle. Without warning, the vampire reaches for the hem of your torn shirt, pulling it over your head in one go. You yelp, attempting to cover your unexpected nudity with your arms, but he grabs your wrists. Oh... You are getting the idea now, but you aren’t sure how that is supposed to help with the pain. Straightening, he gazes down at you, blood-red eyes roaming your exposed chest with a new kind of hunger. Apparently, even creatures of the night are men.

“So,” he asks, challenging, “preferable?”

Earlier you only feared him killing you, you didn’t even consider he could ever request something else entirely, want more than blood. At your clear understanding, he smirks, tilting his head as if daring you to prove him right by changing your mind. Part of you is worried, but it isn’t the one you want to listen to right now. The curious one is louder, buzzing in your brain, alive under your skin, craving. He is a predator and an amazing one because the fascination he inspires you at the moment is way stronger than any survival instinct. When he releases your wrists, you don’t move to cover yourself. Instead, you reach for his own shirt, lifting it until he’s also bare. The rest of him is as chiselled as his forearms and features, perfected simply to taunt mortals. Observing your reaction, the vampire purses his lips, very pleased.

“I guess I was wrong, tidbit.” His voice is huskier than before. Guardedly, his right palm raises to find your cheek, cupping it to pull you into him. Your bodies meet, fitting against one another almost like you’re the same. “You aren’t scared of what I might do anymore.” He states, mere millimetres away from your lips. “How ill-advised.”

“I have your word,” you retort, unable to keep from tilting your head upwards for more. You are possessed.

“Yes.” Something glimmers in his ruby irides as his thumb stokes your lips.

His mouth covers yours shortly after, firmer than when it was on your neck. The kiss is unlike any you’ve received from men, but that’s to be expected since he is none. What is more surprising though, is how good it feels when his dead tongue finds yours. Despite yourself, you immediately pant, lips parting to grant him better access. The vampire remains calm, guiding you cautiously towards the bed without breaking the kiss. Seemingly unaffected by your physical contact. He lays you on the mattress, brushing your hair with his fingers. Instinctively, you tug at his shoulders for him to follow and he does, climbing over you swiftly. It is your mouth that is exploring his now, and he lets you do whatever you want with it. His right hand cups one of your breasts and your nipple erects instantly at the icy touch.

“Your heart,” he muses, obviously the only one fully in control, “I can make it last.”

You’re unsure what he means; your heart is about to explode. His hand keeps stroking you delicately, fingers caressing your body and spreading weird tingles on your bare skin. Your mouth is numbed as well as your mind, caution is completely thrown out the window. You’re hazy. You wouldn’t be surprised if this was due to some sort of entrancing toxins he's emanating, you wouldn’t mind. Your nails are digging his stone back, silently begging for more. Landing on your lower stomach, his hand slips inside your hunting leather pants without any shame. It’s something none other ever dared to do before. When he finds your sex, both of you seem to catch a breath, but that could be your imagination.

“You’re burning.” He states, as though it’s unexpected or abnormal. Opening your eyes, you hadn’t realized you closed, you meet his heavy gaze.

“You’re freezing.” You return, making him laugh mutely. Apparently, some things can still confound him.

“It’s because I’m starving, I haven’t fed in a while...” His hand traces your slit, distracting you. “Now I remember the appeal of human girls,” he murmurs this almost to himself, gently sucking on your collarbone, “so warm, and wet.” His fingers move and automatically, you curve on your back, stretching your neck. “Absolutely no survival instinct,” he adds, kissing your exposed throat.

“Please,” you beg again and he strokes up and down, purposefully, “J-Jeonha...”

The night creature stops everything at the word, eyes empty for a second as he figures things out. At the moment, the dismay on his face is the most human he’s ever seemed. “That’s…” He struggles to conceal his amusement. “You’re uniquely charming.”

“What?” You raise on your elbows, confused. You’re pretty sure that’s what Chan – or that man-wolf – called him in the forbidden forest. So, the joke is lost on you.

“That’s my title, it's not for earthlings.”

“You have a title?”

Frowning, the vampire takes his hand back and snaps, attitude shifting abruptly. “Must you ask about everything?!”

“I-I just thought…” Winded, you ponder, regretting saying it. “Since you can’t tell me your name.”

“Jaebeom,” he reveals, laconic, “Although its knowledge won’t do you any good. You didn’t ask and called me bloodsucker. My birth name was Jaebeom.”

“But you said-”

“Everyone at Inferorum Castrum already knows my identity.” He snickers, like you have done something silly again. His mood lightens as abruptly as it went sour. “I just meant to protect yours.”

Protect. Feed. Considerate. Blood. Safe. Deal. The words coming out of his dead mouth hold no logic to you whatsoever. Jaebeom. The night creature has a name now. He doesn't feel as strange and foreign. Weirdly enough, you don’t hate that.

Jaebeom smirks, gaze dropping to your quasi-nudity, evidently ready to move on and back in the mood again. When you reach to cover yourself, his mouth presses onto yours, rougher than before. He doesn’t seem to want to discuss formalities any longer. He frees you off your pants almost too easily. In no time, you are fully naked under him, skin ablaze at his contrasting chilly touch. You arch when his hand goes back between your legs, fingers rubbing circles skillfully. Craving more friction, your press closer.

“Jae-beom…” You moan, unable to refrain from it. He doesn’t seem to regret allowing you this little knowledge in the end. At the call he grunts, burying his face in your hair as if struggling with something of his very own. “Again.” You demand, holding to his back for dear life as his thumb does its thing one more time. You don’t even protest when his finger pushes inside your core, shallow at first. He adds another one, daring to go deeper when you rock your hips forward.

“I take back what I said earlier…” He groans suddenly. Sinister as Death, Jaebeom raises above you. “You smell delicious, I want to eat you right now…”

“B-blood?” You ask, slightly shaken. You were just starting to forget how inhuman he is.

“Not that, tidbit...” He smiles widely, amused beyond your grasp by your innocence. The vampire lowers himself for an umpteenth kiss, lingering on your lips a tad longer before moving down on your body. He kisses his way from your breasts to your stomach and belly button, only stopping his descent when he has reached between your thighs. Oh. Your eyes round in awe when his tongue slides over your sex, mouth opening on a cry that doesn’t come out. “That.” Jaebeom points out, vainly, doing it again. Oh. Your thighs shake at the second stroke and his hands grab them to ease his effort. His grip is strong, final, and he widens you, licking your slit. It’s even better than what his thumb was doing earlier and you fight back a moan with all your might. From what he hinted at earlier, you guess there are others like him near, able to hear your embarrassing sounds.

“Is… This really…” You pant, overwhelmed as he sucks and circles your mound. “Warming up… To it?” Never in your life did you consider you’d face an actual vampire, even less sleep with him, and want it.

“Yes... To many things.” Jaebeom pulls back, charmed yet again by your evident lack of experience.

Despite what he said earlier, about not having done this in a long time, he has a lot of practice. Then again, vampires don’t age as humans do. Surely, he’s way older than he looks.

He takes his time to observe you like this, spread under him. When you become too ashamed of his gaze and try to close your legs, he doesn’t allow it. “I am going to have you now.” Jaebeom informs casually, not the least flustered by the obscenity of his words. He stands, reaching to undo the buttons of his pants. You watch, abashed when he strips from them, standing naked with his cock erected before you. He tilts his head, trying to read your odd reaction for a while before finally giving up and asking what you’re thinking.

“About C-… The w-wolf, in the forest,” you admit, and his face twists in distaste. Chan has been at the back of your mind ever since you woke up. There’s no way that wolf was really your friend, one of the persons you trust the most in the entire world. Apparently, that’s a very wrong thing to say at the moment.

“Don’t dare mention that werewolf boy in front of me again,” Jaebeom warns in a growl, climbing back on the bed. Werewolf. “I barely tolerate those savage hybrid freaks as it is.”

“You are not the same.” You state as he lowers himself over you. How have you never heard of beasts like that before? You heard legends of bloodsuckers.

“Obviously.”

You want to ask him more. If a wolf can masquerade as human, can it make itself look like anyone? Can it know who you care about? But the timing isn't good and the vampire looks very displeased you brought this up. You’re not sure what to say to make it better, so you go in for a kiss. Deep, good, and he hums. You don’t even notice when he positions himself at your entrance, already taken by all that’s going up here. He understands right away when you still under him, too stunned to say anything.

“Sorry,” Jaebeom mutters, calmly stopping, “we said no pain...” He resumes his kisses as you remain breathless, unsure if this knot is simple nervousness. You knew this was what it meant earlier when he undressed you.

You’ve been with men before, just not like that. You always thought it would be… Never mind. “Again.” You request after a moment, trying to clear your mind. Jaebeom doesn’t hesitate, pushing the tip of his length inside your warm wetness.

Feeling you cramp at the intrusion; he removes it slowly. The emptiness is short however and he inserts himself again, each time pecking along your lips, neck, ear, waiting for you to relax before doing it once more. His hips push forward, pressing your ass down into the mattress. You concentrate, trying to ease the throbbing in your lower stomach. There’s a particularly deeper thrust, and you gasp, troubled. Jaebeom stops everything, a weird shudder shaking his shoulders before he turns to stone. Then he exhales, burying his head in the crook of your neck. One of his hands finds your thigh to part your legs slightly, giving him a bit more of you.

“You’re bleeding...” He whispers, voice hoarse.

“Is…” You aren’t sure what to reply, given the circumstances and what he is. It doesn’t exactly hurt, it’s a discomfort, a slight burn. “Is it a b-bad thing?”

Jaebeom grunts, rolling his hips, and your nails harshly dig his back. “It’s so good, tidbit...” He exhales shakily, “it’s all I can think about...”

Trembling, you reach for his black hair, guiding his mouth to your neck. That’s the deal; your blood... And if you’re being honest, in the moment, you don’t feel like it was made to your disadvantage at all. He was right, he’s quite generous. Jaebeom doesn’t bite you though. Instead, he kisses your skin, tongue grazing your jugular. He traces it up until he finds the spot he seems to favour. It’s where he feels your pulse the most, but you have no idea. It is deafening, listening to the sweet melody of your heart beating. He pulls away only to slide back inside your core roughly. Although you’re still tight around him, this time it’s a lot more comfortable. Your legs open to ease his back and forth. You raise your hips, already craving more of this smooth friction you’re discovering.

“That.” In a trance, Jaebeom sucks on your vein every time it bulges on his mouth. The sensation is far from unpleasant for you. “That is a lovely warm-up.”

He pulls you even closer, breathing you in, and missing your smile. This way sure feels better than the first frightening one, he was right. Jaebeom rhythm doesn’t falter, only getting rougher and messier the more it goes, and you’re far from complaining. You let out small cries, not even minding anymore, as he thrusts harder. His hands pull at your thighs, raising them so he hits a new angle inside you. It’s even more pleasurable, making you lose any sane train of thoughts. You curve on your back, a series of praises and begs uncontrollably falling out of your mouth.

Jaebeom feels your walls clench even tighter than before around his cock, tastes the salty sweat from your skin, hears the subtle change in your breathing. He knows that it’s his moment, his window. He doesn’t wait any longer. His fangs pierce your jugular making you gasp from the thrill. Your blood spurts in his mouth, and it’s even better than what he tasted in the forest. Richer and sweeter than ever. His pupils dilate, world outside the bedroom completely fading as you fill his mouth. Jolting from the pleasure, you cling closer to him, not fully realizing your blood is squirting out of your neck. He knows you’re coming even before you do. It must be your first time for that too because you’re out of it as the waves of shuddering ecstasy hit. You moan, arching into him deliciously, and he forgets why he has been denying himself this for years. He sucks unsparingly, despite himself, unable to control his own pleasure and desires. His hips begin to slow down and he pulls out, overwhelmed, but his lips remain glued to your wound.

Jaebeom doesn’t stop sucking until you’re softening, entire body’s violent convulsions losing steam. Your grip in his hair weakens, sliding on his nape until it falls off entirely. You’re gradually slipping out of consciousness. He promised. Getting a hold on his urges, Jaebeom tears away from your neck with a sinister gurgle noise, his favourite sonata. Your blood gushes out, staining his satin sheets in fascinating intricate patterns but he doesn’t allow himself to revel in them now. Putting his palm over the lacerations to control the bleeding, he brings his right thumb to his mouth, biting down until black blood pearls. You’re aghast between his legs, dying, eyes wide as they slowly seem to mist. He knows how death looks, it’s enough. If you didn’t remember how you were miraculously healed in the forest earlier, you certainly seem to at the brink of oblivion now. As soon as he offers his thumb, your mouth opens and you cling to his hand. You suck out his blood, panicky panting calming down.

It’s a give and take.

Jaebeom smiles, enjoying the wet heat of your tongue lapping at his finger. Your wound has already started to suture itself, but he lets you drink him a bit longer, awestruck at your eagerness. When he finally removes his hand, you stare up in wonder, winded and quiet, for once.

You’re the most beautiful thing ever, vibrant, torrid, so fragile and alive in his bed.

Oh… Now, Jaebeom remembers why he hasn’t taken a human woman like that in forever… Dispassionate, he drops down on the bed next to you, letting the iron smell of the still lukewarm blood numb his uneasiness. You don’t notice at all and you automatically roll closer.

“You’re almost cool now.”

“Yes,” he mutters, turning to gaze down at you, “thanks to you.”

Your left hand heavily raises to stoke his arm, and Jaebeom relaxes. “I’m so dead…”

His mouth quivers. Close, but not quite. You’re amusing. “Barely.” When he leans in for a kiss you shrink back and Jaebeom stiffens, brought down to reality. Right, that’s more like it. Your survival instincts are back on, you’ve seen the not-so-glorious side of him now.

“Blood…” You mutter weakly, like justifications are in order, like him being a bloodsucking monster to you isn’t enough.

“It’s yours.” He deadpans, taken aback it’s a problem at this point. It wasn’t what he was expecting. Nonetheless, he licks his lips clean from the red thickness and wipes his face.

“It’s…” You’re inarticulate and your eyes shut, overcame by the blood loss. “Disgusting..." The corner of Jaebeom’s lips lifts into a real smirk this time, cute. You are also covered in it but he doesn’t mind... He pecks your forehead as you’re drifting out of consciousness, like earlier when he brought you from the forest and tucked you in. Maybe his feeding was a bit much, he has pushed it. You were already wounded by Jackson's stupid Beta earlier. As you fall asleep, Jaebeom wonders what’s that like, he can’t remember at all. He watches over you as your breathing slows down, heart rate decreasing until it’s a faint beat, peaceful. You’ll recover, humans always do after drinking from a vampire.

The real part of his deal begins now; your safe return. Bringing a mortal into Inferorum Castrum is a lot easier than sneaking out. Things could go wrong in many ways from now on.

Thinking this, awake, all senses on alert, the night creature has no idea he’s missing the most crucial piece of information about you.

He hasn’t messed up like this in centuries.

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 4 years

Text

So here is the next chapter. Managed to write this one night at about midnight while I was squashed on the side of my own bed and the two small invaders tried to evict me. Single mum life I tell you it’s ridiculous 🤣

Blood Moon

Chapter 14

You kept to the shadows, your eyes glinting slightly as they caught the light. You could see two guards at the door, they were huge men with tattoos all the way up their arms. You gently touched a ring on your finger.

Rey they’re huge!

I’ve got your back, but I guarantee you get into that room he will talk to you. He likes anything unexpected and no one has breached those big guys before. You’ve got this! She said into your mind. You rolled you eyes and balled your fists. An echo sounded down the corridor and both men turned to the noise. It was now or never. You leapt out of the shadows, pushing away from the wall with a yell and landed on one of the guys neck, you wrapped your legs under his chin and with all your strength you managed to bring him down. The other guy roared loudly, his stance wide. You kept your legs tightly around this guys neck but he was strong and you started to sweat but you kept up the deadly grip on his windpipe. The other guy was changing, his bones cracked and ground together, your eyes widened as brown fur sprouted all over him, his claws lengthened and he grew even taller. He roared at you and you paled as you realised you were faced with a grizzly bear.

‘Fuck!’ He charged and you rolled away from the other guy who also started to change now you’d released his neck. The bear swiped at you and you dodged his blows, but man, they were fast. The other bear barrelled towards you and you jumped high into the air, you could hear his claws scrabbling on the floor as he tried to turn round but he couldn’t stop his massive form and it carried him to collide with the far wall. Plaster cracked and the hallway shook. You touched your ring briefly.

Anytime now! You mentally yelled. The other bear backed you up against the wall and you ducked as he swung at you and ripped through the wall and showering you in dust. You could barely see as you rolled through the gap in his legs kicking him. He roared in pain and fell to his knees. You jumped up but suddenly the wind was knocked out of you as the other bear walloped you in the back and sent you flying to the other side of the hallway, you crashed into the doors which opened and you fell groaning into a room full of bright colours. You struggled to stay conscious but you couldn’t hold off the darkness.

Your head pounded, and you ached, then it all came rushing back your eyes flew open and you jumped up. You looked wildly around expecting to be crushed.

‘Steady. No one will hurt you now.’ A smooth silky voice drew your attention. It came from a guy sat on a large ornate gold throne, he held a cup and saucer in his hands as his black eyes studied you, his skin was tanned and his hair dark. Everything about him looked perfect. He took a sip out of his cup never taking his eyes off you. You looked around and realised you were on your own with him. ‘Please sit, just be careful. You are dusty.’ His nose wrinkled slightly. You slowly sunk onto a plush cushion, the floor was filled with them all different colours with gold trimmings, coloured fabrics hung from the high ceiling and draped all along the walls. ‘I’ve heard about you.’ Your attention snapped back to him. ‘Tell me, do you know who I am?’

‘You are Kehar.’ You replied. He sat back in his chair his face smug. In one measured movement he placed the saucer down, before you could react he was before you. His scent washed over you, he smelled so different, dangerous almost. Power radiated off him in waves and you tried to break eye contact but you couldn’t look away. His black eyes slowly changed to bright yellow, his teeth elongated and black and orange fur rippled across his face.

‘I am Kehar!’ He rumbled. ‘And you come barging in here, attacking my bears,’ his eyes flashed and he snarled, but it wasn’t like a wolf snarl this was a long drawn out dangerous snarl that made your insides quiver. ‘And yet,’ you took a breath as he retreated, his eyes growing darker as he returned to his human form. ‘I admire you y/n. I never thought you’d make it in here.’ He sat back in his throne adjusting his jacket before piercing you with his eyes. ‘What do you want?’

‘You know my name?’ You whispered. He chuckled. ‘You and that witch friend of yours have been ruthless in looking for that boy alpha. And yet you still have no leads.’ The doors burst open behind you and you nearly jumped out of your own skin at the noise, your eyes flashed gold and you snarled in defence, but it was one of the guards holding Rey. He dumped her on the floor and Kehar motioned for him to leave. She gasped loudly as she sat up. You scooted over to her and she grabbed your arm.

‘They found me I’m so sorry!’ Her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings.

‘You are the witch, that left her coven to help a were?’ His voice rang out.

‘Y...yes sir.’ He chuckled again and clapped his hands loudly making you both jump.

‘I love rebels! Come, let’s eat.’ He rose from his throne and took long strides to a door you hadn’t noticed before, it opened and he motioned for you both to follow. The dining room was just as impressive as the previous room, there was a long table laden with food. You closed you eyes and sent a thank you to the universe, you couldn’t remember the last time you had any decent food. ‘Please tuck in, you must be hungry.’ His eyes glinted knowingly as you nodded. You loaded your plate up with cold meats, cheeses and fruit. You didn’t know how long until you would eat again, all you and Rey had done the last few months is fight and battle for any info on Kylo. But he had vanished, your pack had frozen you out claiming you were to blame, Han and Leia would not return your calls, neither would Poe. After all he said. You shovelled the food in your mouth mindlessly chewing as you got caught up in your thoughts. Rey stared at Kehar.

‘Can I help you little witch?’ He almost purred.

‘Is it true?’ She whispered.

‘Is what, true? Come on out with it.’

‘That you can turn, into, a.......’ she faltered and swallowed nervously.

‘Oh my dear,’ he leant forward and rested a hand on her arm, as you watched his hand changed into a giant white paw, the claws flexed and Rey froze.

‘I’d say the rumours are true.’ He winked as it turned back into a hand. ‘Now, let’s get down to real business. Why did you storm my humble abode?’

‘For information on Kylo.’ You replied.

‘Now why would I have information about some alpha pup?’ You smashed your fist on the table making the plates jump. Kehar sneered. ‘I have no interest in that mongrel, or any of those filthy werewolves. They are so, archaic in their ways, they don’t evolve with the times. They are the dredges of the were world...’ you smashed both fists on the table cracking it, plates smashed and you growled loudly.

‘Watch your mouth!!’ You screamed. Your eyes glowed gold as the anger coursed through you. Just the thought of anyone insulting Kylo made you angry, but hearing Kehar speak them in his condescending voice made you reach boiling point. He grinned at you as he laced his fingers together.

‘Now we are getting somewhere. Tell me, Y/N. Why are you so upset?’ You snarled as he stood. ‘You really are wasted with them.’ With a yell you launched yourself at him. He dodged your blows and landed one on your back you stumbled slightly but found your footing to face him again. You could feel your fur just under the surface of your skin, it felt so uncomfortable it made you feel even angrier. You felt your claws grow as you swiped at Kehar but he lazily batted you away. You kept coming and he kept blocking, you were almost in a frenzy when suddenly he pinned you up against the wall, you could feel the change coming, it was like a sort of tension that built and built and the only release was letting yourself go. ‘Picture it,’ he whispered right into your ear, ‘a tiger, in all her striped glory, large paws, long tail. Picture it.’ You looked into his eyes as you gave in, your bones cracking and sliding as they changed you felt relief as you fell onto all fours. You swished your tail and you heard Rey gasp. You turned to look at her and you tilted your head at her reaction. Kehar stood with one hand in his pocket, the other over his mouth. ‘I can’t believe it. It’s true.’ He laughed. You snarled at him but it wasn’t your usual snarl, this was deeper, more dangerous sounding, you almost choked on it. You looked down and scrabbled backwards as you noticed your paws were white, your long claws left gouges in the wooden floor, you turned to look behind you and your eyes widened as your long striped tail flailed about behind you. Your shape felt different, you were larger, your feet felt wider, you felt more balanced and controlled in this form, you snarled again and snapped loudly, your ears flattened on your head and your opened your mouth to reveal large, long, pointy fangs. Kehar crouched down, his eyes flashed yellow as he looked at you. ‘You are what will draw us together.’

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo x you #my writing #kylo ren #kylo #kylo ren au #kylo ren as a wolf #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x you #kylo ren imagine #kylo x y/n #kylo imagine #kylo as a wolf #blood moon #kylo au

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jaehyunsleatherpants · 7 years

Photo

Angels In The Weeping - Disney AU

img credits

Genre: Angst (idk how much though), Smut

Summary: enchanting the Prince is one thing…

Words: 3.1k

A/N #1: ok but the Little Mermaid is literally my favorite movie like ??? ok I think it’s cuz I got this crush on Prince Eric…

Pairings: Prince Eric!Jaehyun x Disguised Ursula!Reader

“

Her daddy’ll love that. King Triton’s headstrong, lovesick girl would make a charming addition to my little garden.

”

You made it your life’s mission to ruin that bratty princess’ life. Her beauty merely irked you; in fact that didn’t bother you at all. It was her voice of all things; Ariel’s melodic voice could enchant anyone, even a coral. Even the mainland Prince. Prince Jaehyun. You had your eyes out for him, from the day the storm hit. You watched his unconscious body tumble into the salty waters of the sea. You wanted to help him, but it went against your morals. That was until the princess saved him, your anger fumed at the sight. You watched from afar as her emerald tail sloshed against the waves and onto the nearing beach. You heard her voice; the one you so desired. Your anger rose as she returned to the water, her body gliding with the warm waters. You thought of the Prince, how he was destined to be with a princess, much like the bratty one you despised. You looked down at your body, your large belly stretched against your raven tunic, your tentacles floating as though they had a mind of their own; he wouldn’t want you. A Cecaelia you were, a monster in the eyes of the merfolk; the forbidden fruit no one truly wanted.

You floated around your cauldron, figuring out how to get her voice; to no avail. You thought about how you would describe it to in a conversation, but the only company you had was the writhing polyps outside your abode. You took pride in the polyps, the plants writhing as if they couldn’t fulfill their promise. You chuckled, as that’s exactly why they were there; your fingers brushed against their corally limbs, shying away from you. You smiled at them, bearing your giant fangs. They seemed to scurry into themselves, tiny screeching sounds echoing. You sighed, moving back into the darkness of your sweet home. Your pet eels hissed and moved against each other, electricity sparking off their tails. They whispered amongst each other, cackling and mumbling. You wondered what they were saying, when they suddenly bolt up; slithering through the gentle waves of the cavern. You guessed they sensed danger, gone to take care of it; their loyalty something you were proud of too. They were your friends, telling you about the world outside your territory, about the still glistening city of Atlantica; the reason reside into the carcass of a worse monster. You brood about the times you were King Triton’s advisor, banished for practicing dark magic against the King’s orders.

You heard the hissing again, along with the silent whispers of your wonderful pets; maybe here to tell you of a way infiltrate and bring down King Triton and his pesky family. You sensed their arrival, but felt the presence of something too… pure. You smirked evilly, knowing EXACTLY who was walking through your front door.

“Come in, come in, my child,” You sad as you emerged through the darkness of your hiding spot, seeing the poor princess hesitate to enter. You tsked, shaking your head in disapproval,

“We mustn’t lurk in doorways, it’s rude,” you sneered, “you might question your upbringing” you turned your head away, taking a seat by your vanity. You admired your purple complexion, running your long fingernails through your hair. Your pets swam their way back to you, perching themselves next to you endearingly.

“Now you’re here because you have a THING for this Prince fellow,” you chuckled as your rubbed gel in your hair, the princess standing silently. “Not that I blame you,” you turned back towards her, your heartbeat increasing in speed. Now was the time. “He is quite a catch, isn’t he?” you exclaimed, cooing at the enamoured princess. You sighed, picking up your lip paint; the blush red the perfect color.

“Now, Angel Fish, the solution to your problem is simple,” You stated, painting your lips to perfection. You smacked your lips together, glowing in your self-vanity. “The only way to get what you want… is to become a human,” you eyed Ariel through the mirror, watching her stoic expression change into one of shock. She moved towards you slowly, knowing what she was getting herself into. “C-can you do that?” she questioned, her fingers itching her palms; she was REALLY falling into the trap herself. You wanted to compare her to a dolphin, one that glided with the ocean as one, living harmoniously with nature; but doesn’t know when they could fall into a trap. You turned towards her again, watched her fall into herself.

You smirked evilly once more, enjoying this WAY too much. You got up from your seat, gliding gracefully towards Ariel, her mane of red hair that floated around her shoulders pushed back from the force of your arrival. You produced a contract; glowing a gold against the dark interiors of your home. It illuminated your face, and you thought it brought out the evil from you. Your pet eels chuckled near you, catching on with the plan. You reached for your shell necklace, twirling the delicate solarium between your hungry fingers. Your throat itched for her voice, the feather pen in her small hands. You watched her try to read it, noting that she had only read the end, about her getting a kiss at a certain sunset and what not; you didn’t want her finding the terms and conditions, a diversion from the bear trap. You snatched the paper away from her, tsking at her attempts of reaching the paper. You let go of the pendant and reached for the tiny princess in front of you, pulling her small frame plush into your large one. You didn’t notice how you towered over her, your unruly shadow cast darkly against her light skin. She breathed heavily, giving up on struggling; you let her go, her body gliding back. You glared at her, willing her to sign the contract, fulfilling your desires.

You watched her turn away, your lips turning up into an evil smile; your chest heaved as your heartbeat increased in speed. Anticipation pumped through your veins, you watched the contract dissolve into thin air (or whatever it was). Ariel’s tail began to vaporize, her expression displayed her utter shock; yours one of delight. You watched her voice evaporate from her throat, a melodic tone tickled your ears as it traveled into your solarium pendant. You laughed evilly, it bounced off the skeletal structure of the dead monster. You watched Ariel’s unconscious figure float the surface, her body heaving as it rose. You laughed once more, your pets cackling at your side.

You still resided in your cave, enjoying the chase the royal family had put; in hopes of finding their precious Ariel. You kicked back in your abode, watching everything roll out; just as planned. You had won, just as you expected. Days went on, time flew by; and she still didn’t get the kiss. You chuckled every time she failed, the Prince just didn’t realize it was her who saved him. You knew you were gonna woo him someway, but the look just wasn’t right; you needed something that matched the voice. You needed something that matched the sweet voice, a look to compliment the honey smoothness. You relaxed against your seat, closing your eyes to picture what you would look like; you saw yourself with long, flowing brown hair, skin pale as the moon, dress as blue as midnight. You imagined walking out of the waves, capturing the eyes of your darling Prince; you could feel the magic of Ariel’s voice flowing through your veins, pulling Jaehyun into your open arms. You kept a small smile on your face, the thought of your Prince with YOU, it made you happy. You knew it was selfish to want something so great at the cost of one’s life, but you honestly couldn’t care less. You build your whole career on that; in fact you lived by that, which lead to you being banished.

You stared at the mirror across from you, you had no room for admiration. You twirled your finger around, your form shifting into the one you imagined. You liked it, though it didn’t feel like you. You stood up, the large dress you had on slipped from your new body. You took in your naked form, eyeing every curve, every inch; you were stunning. You touched your soft skin, goosebumps forming from the trail your fingers left. You moaned at the feeling, imagining how much better it would feel if it were Prince Jaehyun. You pictured his hands all over you, throwing your head back at the imaginary pleasure you felt, your heartbeat’s speed increased at every thought. You lifted your head back up, taking one last look at your body; you twirled your fingers again, producing a blue dress, noting the room your breasts have to pop out. You slipped your legs into the dress silently, admiring your new legs the way you imagine Ariel did. You watched the dress crumple under the water’s pressure, the silky petticoat brushing against your bare legs. You pulled the dress up, admiring the way it flaunt your perfect chest; your long brown hair falling against it. You pulled a cape on, smoothing your dress out before spinning your way out of the depths of the dark ocean.

You rose from the water, mist forming around you. You gripped the necklace, shaking it a little to jumpstart the magic. You noticed Prince Jaehyun stand at the top of a sand dune, looking as majestic as ever. Walking out of the mist, Ariel’s voice spread out from the solarium; the sweet sound reaching Jaehyun’s ears. He turned towards you, watching as you stepped out of the mist in all your glory. He dropped the shawl he had around him, his feet following your (Ariel’s) voice towards you. Walking towards you, you caught a glimpse of his face; up close. You felt heat spread to whatever was between your legs, squeezing your thighs together to prevent yourself from dripping. You were familiar with the feeling of arousal, but you never felt it for anyone; much less a land walker, a human.

You felt his magnetic pull, his body inches away from you. You watched the wind brush his flowing hair back, feeling his heartbeat increase with every step he took. He inched towards you, his long steps turned short. The effects of the hypnotization took over him, clouding his mind of any sensible thought he had before; all he could think of was you. You felt the heat radiating off his body, letting the arousal finally dripping down your legs. Prince Jaehyun reached his hands out for you, caressing your faces in his soft palms. You closed your eyes, the feeling of his fingers on you felt so pure; your heart ALMOST melted. His held you in his arms, his hypnotic state didn’t faze even a bit, the voice’s effect even reaching you; a lulled feeling settled in your chest.

He pulled you towards the castle, brushing past Ariel on the way. Her expression said it all; she knew it was you. Her green eyes pierced through your disguise, seeing through your brown locks, and into your monstrous reality. You smirked back at her, wrapping your arms around Jaehyun’s bicep. He paid no attention to her, his lost expression giving away the fact he was under a trace. You pressed your cheek against his chest, looking up at his chiseled face. You desired to run your fingers through his raven hair, the jet black contrasting against his pale skin, his baby blue eyes pulling your morbid soul in. You felt his right arm coil around your waist, your heart beating too fast for your liking. Jaehyun walked you towards his room, the oak doors standing tall on the frame. The articulate designs depicted forest vegetation and flowers you’d find on a mainland garden; unlike yours.

A strong hand pushed the door and before you knew it, your featherweight body was thrown onto the king-sized bed; you snickered at the irony, a prince in a king-sized bed. He stalked towards you, his predator gaze sending shivers down your spine. His body moved smoothly, you could almost compare him to a lion; you, the deer. Jaehyun’s eyes shifted from its usual baby blue to a stormy hue; complementing the electric tension that hung in the air. He finally reached you, his hands pushing your dress and petticoat up to your waist. His eyes reflected your own; the lust pooling on your waterbed in the form of tears. You leaned back on your elbows, Jaehyun’s weight pressed against your hip bone. He reached for your chest, feeling your flesh through the satin dress; his eyes darkened further, resembling the midnight sky. He pressed his hips harder against yours, causing your body to shiver from the pleasured shock. You moaned loudly, the Prince’s lips curving into a sinister smirk; one you had seen yourself have before.

Prince Jaehyun pushed your body further up the bed, your torso pressed against the silk sheets. His lips pressed against the top of your dress where the skin was visible from, his hands untying the laced ribbons to loosen the dress. Your heart felt like it would leap out of your chest, the immense pleasure you felt from this was unbearable. You felt Jaehyun’s cold hands sneak up your thighs, the icy burn sending your nerves into overdrive; your core shivering from the closeness. You lifted your torso to an angle, your near-bare chest pressing against his clothed one; His hot breath tickling the nape of your neck, while his fingers brushed against your quenched folds. Jaehyun’s lips left feather kissed along the skin of your neck, crossing the sharp edge of your jaw bone, pressing your blushing cheeks with his nose; and finally reaching lips. He tasted of salt and berries, the intense mixture of flavors sent your mind into system shutdown; your hands finally reached to tear away his white dress shirt.

When he was finally bare chested, you started leaving harsh marks on his soft skin; the feeling of his blood rushing to the surface made your fluids rush even more. Jaehyun’s hands pushed your dress above your torso, caressing the smooth expanse of your new slender body. You lifted your arms towards the headboard, and within seconds, your dress was off. You felt the chilling tension against your skin, goosebumps forming along your belly. Jaehyun took his time admiring your body beneath him, a low, carnivorous growl ripped through his vocal cords; a sly smile curved his lips deliciously. Jaehyun moved in speeds countering that of light, his fingers working its way to remove his dress pants. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, your legs wrapping around his slender waist; pressing his hard on against your slick core. His lips sealed themselves against yours, heat spread down your neck, and down to your throbbing folds. Jaehyun pressed his hip bone against yours, detaching himself from the kiss; a string of saliva still connected your lips.

“You ready?” He questioned, his voice echoing a whisper. Your lips reached for his cheek, pressing a kiss on the dimple that formed. You nodded, your fingers preparing to claw against the expanse of his broad back. With a swift, but smooth, move of his hip, he entered your yearning cavern; you moaned loudly at the sensation, your walls clenching around him. Jaehyun held you close, his hands handling your face with utmost care, the affection burning your cold blooded veins. You hissed as he started moving, developing a steady rhythm your body could handle. Jaehyun’s large hands reached for your breasts, his thumbs rubbing against your sensitive nipples, heightening your senses. Your toes curled against the balls under your feet, your ankles knotting together against Jaehyun’s tailbone, causing his thrusts to stutter. You squeaked under the pleasure, the bed mirroring your sound at the force of his thrusts, the deep groans erupting in spurts from his chest. His hands left your chest alone, leaving a malicious trail of blood curdling goosebumps down your torso, reaching your sensitive pearl and labia. Jaehyun’s index finger pressed against your clitoris, your head kicking back, leaving room for his head to nestle his canines into; fingers rubbing your clit in figure 8s, his biceps flexing at the strength of holding himself up.

You reached your arm up, placing them around his shoulders, feeling the flexing of each muscle and vertebrae as his thrusts picked up. He reached deep, searching for a certain spot; he finally found it, your (Ariel’s) voice reached octaves higher than it could. Your chest heaved as his thrust speed increased to full capacity, pulling himself out and slamming his length back into your tight hole, hitting your sweet spot consistently; the never ending pleasure shooting up your veins. Heat spread through your lower abdomen, sweat formed around Jaehyun’s hands as he pinned your hips further into the mattress. His hips stuttered against yours, and you knew he was close. His fringe stuck to his sweaty forehead, his electric eyes bore into your dark soul; pulling on it like a magnet. Your long nails dug into the tight skin on Jaehyun’s back, earning you a hiss. You whined loudly, the coil inside threatening to burst; you brought his lips towards yours, biting his lower lip to conceal your screams. You finally came, your walls clenching around his length in violent spasms, feeling him growl the the feeling. Jaehyun’s thrusts slowed down a bit, feeling his seed spill deep inside you, making your stomach seize at the warm sensation. He slowly pulled out of you, spraying your thighs with the remaining cum from his high. You both watched as his seed spilled out of your used folds, the erotic sight making you moan. He collapsed against you, his sweaty body sticking to yours, a low grunt leaving his dry mouth as his body collided with yours. Your arms held him tight, your breathing returning to its regular pace; your body stopped shaking, the aftershocks of your orgasm leaving your near unconscious body. Jaehyun’s still body flipped to your side, his right leg tangled around yours, his arms draped against hip bone. His face nuzzled into your neck, kissing at the masterpiece his teeth left, nipping and licking at the blue and purple bruises. You turned your back against his smooth chest, feeling his slow breaths lulling you into a gentle sleep.

Your eye caught something outside the window, the grey sky reflecting the previous electric tension in the room. Flashes of lightning hit the warm waters of the sea, churning the electricity against the water. You let a smirk settle against your abused lips, you knew it was the beginning.

A storm was coming.

A/N: I actually had to read up about and watch the Little Mermaid for this sIGH !!!!! but I really hope you guys like it!

I know there is a lot about the reader’s character in the beginning, but I was tryna build the story from somewhere. Also I’m terribly sorry there isn’t much dialogue too :(((

#kwritersnet #nct smut #nct jaehyun #nct au #nct imagine #disney au #nctwn

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