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[kaizenmetals]

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[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Idyll - Mal de Mer

Silco and Mel unwinding from their duties...

Mal de Mer on AO3

Snippet:

They've passed a week in the Ionian villa, with its cliffside perch and sun-soaked beaches. Their wing is the most secluded. Its decor is the traditional Ionian style: rich earth tones of rust and umber, offset by the cool blues of the sea through the wide slatted doors, which frame the private courtyard garden, brimful with violets.

The floors, of marble and granite, are streaked with the golden veins. The walls, too, are gold-flecked: a warm, burnished amber, that in dawn's slanting rays, casts a glow like fire. The lamps and fixtures are wrought from a metal like gold, but softer, with a mellow patina of age. The furnishings themselves, of teak and wrought brass, are simple: a canopied bedstead with voile drapes, a long low table, a dresser with a tall ornate mirror, and an antique armoire for their clothes.

An archway, at the courtyard's far end, opens onto a private bathing suite: a deep blue pool, fed from an underground spring, set with stone benches carved into the contours of shells, and mosaic tiles depicting sirens from ancient lore. The ceiling, high and vaulted, is crowned by a stained-glass skylight: admitting the afternoon sun in a multicolored aurora. Beyond the garden's walls, the faint blue smear of the sea glitters, with a private berth where their yawl bobs, anchored in the shallows.

Since they've arrived, a routine of decadent idleness has crept in. Day by day, their public selves—their most polished selves—are carved off. Only the private ones remain: the quieter, subtler terrain upon which marriage truly rests.

And within it, blossoming, the fragile buds of intimacy.   

Transitioning from day to night, they wake to the golden cadence of the late-afternoon waves. A brunch of local-baked bread, smoked salmon, and ripe tropical fruits, is fetched up by the staff. They sup together beneath a trellis of flowering plumeria, to the low buzz of the cicadas and the soft lapping of the surf: Mel, in a pale handwoven tunic, Silco, in a loose linen day-suit. 

After, they stroll along the secluded shore: Mel, her bare feet dusted with sand; Silco, his jacket slung over his shoulders, a cigarette dangling between his lips.  The tides dictate their meander: one moment ambling side-by-side, their hands loosely clasped. The next, he's slipped from her grasp, to dip his toes into the water, followed by the rest of him.

Each time, she waits, perched on a half-buried boulder, until the waves bring him back.

Sometimes he returns with a gift—a prickly-spined urchin; a spiraling conch shell; a vivid cobalt crab. Other times, he'll surface empty-handed, and drag her, shrieking, into the shallows: the spray of the seasalt in her hair, the span of his hands at her waist and the taste of his mouth on hers.

She's not afraid of the tide taking her.

He's capable of holding her afloat.

Afterward, their clothes are left to the dry sand. Beneath the spreading branches of the palm trees, she'll lays out a blanket: a patchwork quilt, bought from the local bazaar. Together, they sprawl across the soft cottony swathes, and trade bites from a wicker basket stuffed with local delicacies: crisp salted flatbread, a round clay jar of spiced honey, and a selection of dried fruits and cured meats, wrapped in wax paper.

They speak less, on these lazy days. Less of politics, less of policy.  Instead, their talk is like the tide: an ebb and flow that laps at the edges of honesty, without breaking into full disclosure. She asks him, delicately, about his days as a smuggler in the Black Lanes. He asks her, wryly, about the foibles of the Noxian nobility.

Their questions are posed as harmless banter. But the answers, she knows, are a test.

What will you think, they each wonder, when you hear my truth?

Will you recoil? Will you judge?

Or will you understand?

They are still learning the shape of each other's pasts. Still trying to fit it, piece-by-piece, into the gaps of their present: the new, raw, tenuous thing that binds them. It is an imperfect fit, the shards not quite aligned. But the gaps are narrowing. Each day, something slots into place.

Something real.

Something theirs.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane mel #mel medarda #mal de mer #silco x mel #melco

[twistedtummies2]

The Scarlet Pirate - Chapter 5

This is the penultimate section of a six-part "Chapter Story" for my OC for Twisted Wonderland, James Killian - based on Captain Hook from Disney's Peter Pan. (Also featured are Smitty McCarthy, based on Smee, and Matthew Satyr, based on Peter himself...oh, and Nakoda - my Kaa OC - also has a role here.) The basic premise of this story has been in my mind for almost as long as James has, but for numerous reasons, it wasn't till just within the past few weeks I finally got a chance to develop and write it out.

The result is, I think, the single longest "Chapter Story" for any of my OCs for TW I've created so far. Take that information however you will. So long as this tale, that it went from a planned three-parter, to a planned five-parter, to now being a six-parter, standing at approximately 150 pages in total! Hopefully, all the work and length will be for the best. XD

As is typical for my Chapter Stories, I will be posting this one chapter at a time per day over the course of this week. For future reference, you can find the previous chapter here.

You can find the next chapter here.

WARNING: While this story, throughout all six parts, does not FOCUS on my kinks, there are instances of very mild stuffing/belching related content sprinkled throughout, as well as various instances of implied or near vore situations. If you're into these things, good on ya. If you aren't, just be warned they will show up here and there, although not with any degree of spectacle.

With that said...I hope you enjoy.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Heigh-ho, and up she rises! Heigh-ho, and up she rises! Heigh-ho, and up she rises, early in the mornin’!” The shanty’s tune echoed almost eerily through the bowels of the shadowy stone labyrinth. Down a sloping tunnel, at one end of the vast, maze-like network of passages in the old, abandoned mine, James Killian and Smitty McCarthy carefully marched. James had his right hand on the treasure chest, while Smitty used his left, as they cautiously carried it along between them. James grinned as he looked around at the dank cave at the bottom of the slope: long ago, the Dwarfs had found this spot in the midst of their mining. A part of the river, which ran through the woods and then down into the sea, came into the mountains via this cave. A deep pool of water stretched from the cavern into a short, black tunnel, beyond which was the river itself. There were several tall, rocky formations in the cavern, including one very high, flat-topped stone, almost like a miniature cliff or a rock hill, and a smaller, flatter spot towards the bottom. In one part of the pool, near the tunnel, a sailboat had been moored. Its sails were closed, its anchor stretching into the water; for extra insurance, a sturdy rope had been fastened (with an equally sturdy knot) around a stalagmite that jutted out of the cave’s watery floor. On the boat was brass plaque, which offered the name of the little craft: The Czarina. “Ah, my pretty little crate! We’re now only moments away from TRUE victory, Smitty!” laughed James Killian, his boisterous, booming voice rebounding off the cavern walls. “Who needs a contest prize, when I have enough treasure to pay off a King’s Ransom? This will be plenty for our purposes, once we reach a safe port!” “Aye, James!” smiled Smitty, and paused, closing the eyes behind his glasses and tilting his head upwards, almost dreamily. “Just think of it…finally, out on the open ocean…in a proper ship, doing what we always wanted…” “Indeed,” nodded James, with a more supercilious smile, flourishing his cane in his other hand as he spoke. “Where I shall be captain, and you shall sail with me! Split me infinitives, tis me hour of triumph!” James laughed again; Smitty winced, wringing out one ear with his free hand, and offering a nervous sort of smile. There was a sort of wild gleam in Killian’s eyes, which the smaller man didn’t much like…and there was a strange scent in the air, too. Not just the brine and the earthy odors of the watery cave, but another, chemical sort of odor…like ink… “I just hope it won’t take us too long to sail our way along the river to the sea,” McCarthy fretted. “Ha! Would you think I’m fool enough to not check the miles and depths along the path, Smitty?” scoffed James, resting the long end of his cane upon his shoulder. “I sailed Czarina here meself, and checked the distance to the ocean from this part of the island. I tell you, Smitty, I’ve reached my peak already! NOTHING CAN STOP ME NOW!” “HA HA HA HA HA HA!” James and Smitty froze as a sudden, shrill, deranged laugh echoed through the cave. They looked around, startled to say the least, trying to spot the source. “What in blue blazes?!” exclaimed James. “Wh-who’s th-th-there?” stammered a rather scared Smitty. The mad laugh came again; it sounded lower, more ominous. Cautiously, the pair put down the chest, glancing from the left to the right, peering all around the damp cavern. “Speak!” demanded James. “Who are you, stranger?” A diabolical sort of voice came drifting through the cave. “You have stolen the cursed treasure,” it growled. “Now you shall face the ultimate penalty!”

“What are you talking about?” sneered James, standing defensively in front of the chest. “Tell me your name and show yourself, you craven…!” “JAMES! LOOK!” Smitty’s frightened shout alerted James. He saw his stout little companion pointing with a shaking finger up towards the ceiling of the cave. The scarlet pirate looked up…and his eyes widened as a group of five white-cloaked figures flew out from behind the stalactites that speared down from the roof of the cavern. They giggled and laughed and jeered, drifting together in a circle, like a collection of vultures. Most were roughly human in size, but one was much smaller, no bigger than a tiny child, at best. Sizes aside, it was clear what the pale, hooded creatures were. “G-G-GHOSTS!” squeaked Smitty, and ducked behind James. “What jiggery-pokery is this?” bellowed James, trying to seem unintimidated, but his voice carried an unsteady quiver. “We are the Keepers of the Treasure!” declared the smallest figure, in a yowling sort of voice. “Return to us what is rightfully ours, human!” another snarled. “Or you may face the consequences,” another warned, in a sneaky, subtle, smooth tone. “HA!” James rapped, and grinned ferociously. “I fear no ghosts. We have dozens of them at Night Raven College!” “I fear them,” peeped Smitty, who was trying to hide behind his superior. “Surrender the treasure to us!” hissed a fourth phantom. “Or we will be forced to take it,” the fifth said, rather plainly. James glowered. He had not come all this way to be foiled by a collection of meddlesome specters. “You want it?” he growled, shifting his feet to brace himself. “Ha! Well come and get it!” He then nudged the scared McCarthy aside and snapped at him: “SMITTY!” “Eep! Y-Yes, James?” Killian gestured to the ghosts with a hard, stony sort of glare. “Blast them,” he ordered, in a cold voice. Smitty blinked. He looked pale as a ghost himself. “But…b-but James…!” “BLAST THEM!” James roared. “That’s an order, you blundering blue-footed booby!” Smitty gulped nervously, lifting his arms, as if he were afraid of being struck, then nodded. “Aye-Aye, James,” he whimpered, and paused to adjust his cap, jacket, and glasses before waddling forward. He looked up at the circling white spirits, who were making spooky “Ooooooooh…!” noises as they hovered. Smitty took a deep breath and seemed to pluck up courage…then lifted his right hand, holding the palm outwards.

“Hold back no longer. Throw restraint to the wind. Fire at will,” he intoned in an incantation…and as he did so, the ghosts could see what seemed to be a crimson aura, gathering around his right hand. Then Smitty seemed to physically brace himself, as he uttered the name of the signature spell he now planned to use: “CORKSCREW CANNON!” BOOM! With a sound like a cannon being shot, a crimson sphere of energy shot out from the gathered aura around Smitty’s hand. It blasted towards two of the ghosts, who darted out of the way as the ball of red light flew between them… …But as the sphere hit the stone wall of the cave, it suddenly rebounded back again, bouncing like rubber towards the ghosts once more. The energy sphere struck one of them, and - BANG! - burst like some magical balloon. The concussive explosion knocked the ghost aside as they cried out, and flew back into a wall. “What the…?!” exclaimed one of the phantoms. “HA HA!” James crowed. “My compatriot’s Unique Magic creates an eruptive blast that stuns any enemy it comes in contact with. However, it only affects living things…or, in your case, things that were once living. If it hits anything else, it just bounces off.” “It can only bounce three times,” peeped Smitty, seemingly blushing at James’ elaboration.” “Minor details,” shrugged Killian, and pointed dramatically at the other ghosts, as the one who had been hit rather dizzily hovered away from the wall. “FIRE, SMITTY! SHOOT THEM DOWN AT ONCE!” “Aye, James,” Smitty replied, and sent another ball of energy zipping up towards the cave ceiling, aiming this time for the smallest of the white-cloaked figures. The force of the blast was so great, that it actually made him stumble clumsily backwards, nearly knocking him off his feet. The tiny ghost spun through the air, twirling out of the way. The Corkscrew Cannon once again rebounded off the wall behind them, but this time, the ghost was ready for it, and flew higher, the sphere passing beneath the cut of their white sheet. One of the other ghosts, however, was less fortunate, and got struck, smashing into a stalactite. They had not recovered before a third sphere went zooming upwards. It passed over the head of one ghost, who ducked…bounced once, and missed another, who swerved to the side…bounced twice, missed ANOTHER, who cartwheeled out of the way through the air…but on the third rebound, it struck the tiniest phantom, who yowled and flew back… …Only for one of the other ghosts to catch them.

“We have to avoid those blasts,” the small one whispered. “I know,” their savior nodded, then looked to the others. “GATHER UP!” The ghosts all huddled together, weaving and bobbing through the air as Smitty turned around to try and get a solid shot at them…but they kept ducking behind the stalactites and other cave formations. “LET ‘EM HAVE IT!” James raged, waving his cane around like a madman. “COME ON, YOU IDIOT! HIT THEM AGAIN!” “I-I can’t get a clear shot!” squeaked Smitty. The ghosts suddenly dispersed once more, nodding to each other, as if they’d decided on a plan of action. One of them went flying at Smitty straightaway, while the other four flew off in other directions. Smitty opened fire, and the ghost zoomed out of the way… …And as the red sphere of power struck the wall beyond, it came bouncing back…straight at Smitty McCarthy. Smitty froze. “...Oh, no.” BANG! The little man’s glasses fell from his face, and his cap was knocked askew, as the concussive blast burst before him and sent him shooting backwards. Two of the ghosts caught hold of him and lifted him into the air from under his arms. Smitty kicked and squirmed, crying out in alarm as they carried him to the sailboat. One of the pale, hooded specters in the white sheets produced a length of rope, and they tied him to the mast, making sure his hands were firmly set at his sides. Smitty struggled against the bindings as fiercely as he could. “JAMES!” he hollered. “JAMES, HELP!” James Killian hesitated, torn between helping his associate and guarding the treasure still behind him. Just then, he felt a rush of air behind him, and turned fast…just in time to see the remaining two spirits lift the treasure, each cackling wildly with seemingly crazed glee. “GIVE THAT BACK!” James yelled, and threw himself forward…only for the chest to be pulled away before he could reach it. He fell onto his belly, growling as he pushed himself back to his feet, and watched the spirits lift the treasure into the air… …Then felt something inside of him turn to ice.

The ghosts lowered the chest…and placed it on top of the high, sharp, flat-topped “cliff” of rock, overlooking the water. And there, hovering just a foot or two over the very tip of that outcropping, was a familiar, boldly grinning figure, dressed in green. A pixie sat upon his shoulder. James felt one of his eyes twitch. His free hand curled into a tight, white-knuckled fist, as he gripped his cane tightly. “So, Satyr,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “This is all your doing.” Matthew Satyr grinned wider. “Aye, James Killian,” he teased with a wink, hands on his hips. “Tis all my doing.” “Hey!” one of the ghosts called out. “Don’t take all the credit…” …And at that moment, you threw off the white sheet Sebek had conjured up, revealing yourself. One by one, your fellow “ghosts” did the same. You knew who they were. “After all,” you continued. “It was MY idea.” “Meh. Minor details,” shrugged Matthew, in a joking sort of way. James Killian just glared with more hate than you’d ever seen another human being wear upon their face. And by now, you’d seen a LOT of hatred. “How did you escape the beast?” he snarled. “Beast?” Smitty piped up, stopping his struggling. His eyes widened. “James! Wh-what do you mean ‘beast’?” “I believe he’s referring to the giant monster that attacked us in the pit,” replied Azul, as he touched down upon the deck of the sailboat, standing beside the mast. Sebek touched down beside him, smirking and leaning back against said mast. Nakoda touched down on James’ right, while you touched down on his left. Grim landed directly beside you. All of you glared at him critically. James briefly glanced at the three of you, but soon turned his attention back to Matthew. “What saved you?” he demanded to know. “I would have thought that thing would have at least slowed you down.” “You knew?” Smitty gasped, jaw dropping. “About…wh-whatever was there with them?” James briefly looked back over his shoulder towards Smitty. His expression was dull and vacant. Smitty looked hurt. “But…but you said…” “Quiet,” growled James, and then looked back at Matthew with a vengeful sneer. “How did you get away? Faith and Trust and all that rubbish?” “That, and a little bit of help from my new friends,” Satyr shrugged cheerily. “Easy on the ‘friends’ thing,” muttered Nakoda, who looked a bit uncomfortable at that endearment. James just snarled at Matthew, his fingers tightening harder around his cane’s topper. “Don’t you DARE use that word around me,” he said, venomously. “That’s enough, James,” you interrupted, firmly, and began to approach him. “We’re going back to Night Raven-” “WAIT!”

You jumped back as Satyr flew down from his perch and stopped, hovering about six inches off the ground, and a few feet away from James Killian. He pulled out his metal fighting rod, whipping out the collapsible object to its fullest extent, a steely look in his youthful eyes. “We’re not going anywhere. Not yet,” he said sternly. James grinned, as if he were pleased. “Are you insssane?!” hissed Nakoda. “We’ve already beaten him, what’sss the point?!” “I agree!” Azul called out. “We have what we came for, we should-” “NO!” Matthew said indignantly…then a sort of sadness crept into his voice and his expression. “None of you understand. This isn’t a normal fight. This is a duel. And it’s been waiting for a very long time. I need this…we BOTH need this.” He pointed his baton at James. “This man is mine.” James chuckled darkly and lifted his cane, holding it lengthwise in both hands. “Well spoken, Satyr,” he slithered. “If it’s a final duel you want, I shall gladly give it to you.” CLICK. James gave his topper a slight twist, and a sound like a lock being undone was heard. Then - SCHLING! - the sound of steel scraping against wood rang through the cave. Yourself, Nako, and Grim all stepped back, and worry crept into the faces of Azul and Sebek alike. James Killian flung aside the wooden “sheath” of his cane…and pointed the sharp, dangerous, very real sword tip of the weapon towards his nemesis. “Proud and insolent fool,” he challenged, grandly. “Prepare to taste defeat.” Even in the presence of an actual sword, Satyr showed no fear at all. “Dark and sinister man,” he returned. “Have at thee!” With a sort of scoffing battle cry, James Killian immediately plunged forward, and swung his sword around his head. CLANG! It connected with Matthew’s blade, as the smaller, hovering young half-fae blocked the attack. James whirled about, sweeping out for another, rather theatrical slash. CLING! His blade skimmed the rounded edge Matthew’s weapon, as it was batted away easily. Matthew then went on the offensive himself, whipping his baton about to try and strike at James’ face. With sharp, jerking, almost imperceptible motions, James parried the attacks. From that point on, for a time, there was no advantage on either side. Matthew Satyr was a superb swordsman, jabbing with the baton the way a wasp does with its stinger, in between parries that knocked his rival’s attacks aside with dazzling rapidity. He had the shorter reach, and no cutting or stabbing edge, but his weapon was sturdy and his movements fast.

James Killian was scarcely inferior in brilliancy, but not quite so nimble in wrist play. The Pirate of Hearslabyul forced his opponent back by the weight of his onset, swinging hard and strong. Time and again, he thrust his weapon forward, and each time he did, a collective flinch flew through every heart of those of you that watched. Each time, however, the thrust was turned aside by Satyr’s dueling rod, and Killian was frustrated again. Kes flitted about the dueling pair, ringing her bells in alarm. Annoyed, James swiped at her with his left hand…then squealed as Matthew smacked him in the rear, just as he had in the forest. With a roar of outrage, James lifted his sword up in a chopping motion, but the harsh blow was blocked by Satyr. Kes zipped over to Sebek, flailing her arms as if to get his attention. He seemed to understand what she said… “We should stop them!” he bellowed. Nakoda hissed with a nod, and began to stride forward in an attempt to do just that…but Azul halted all with a sharp call. “Don’t!” he snapped, and his own attention was on the dueling pair, his expression wary and razor-focused. “Let them sort out their differences. This is between them. It’s out of our hands now.” “Then shouldn’t we leave?” Grim suggested, and winced at another loud CLANG! as the metal weapons met each other. Azul shook his head, still focused on the battle. You soon understood… “James is out for blood,” you whispered, worriedly. “If he manages to get an advantage…” Grim gulped nervously, immediately realizing the gravity of the situation. You could see that Smitty McCarthy, still tied up where he was, seemed more than a little concerned. He was watching with very nervous eyes, chewing on his own fat little lip. “B-be careful!” he called out to the fighters, as each swung and blocked the other’s weapon. Which one he was addressing remained a mystery thereafter.

James seemed to grow tired of the even nature of the duel. His sword had yet to gain its prize. He glared, trying to back Matthew towards a wall…but just as Satyr grew close to the stone behind his back, he leapt up and over James’ head, flipping clean over him and landing on the other side. James spun ‘round and lunged, but Matthew spun out of the way, flying over the water. He laughed and came swooping back, swiping with the baton. James ducked the attack, and scowled as he watched the young fairy-boy fly upwards again. At that moment, as he saw Matthew zipping about overhead, a lightbulb seemed to come over James’ own head, and he began to move up the slope of the “cliff” inside the cave. “Go on!” he called out, mockingly. “Fly! Fly! Fly, you COWARD!” Matthew paused in mid-air, once more at the “tip” of the stone hill. “Coward?” he repeated. “Me?!” James laughed tauntingly as he prowled up the slope in a creeping predatory manner. “Ha Ha HA! You’d never DARE to face me man-to-man, foot-to-foot! YOU NEVER COULD!” he barked. “You’ll always fly away, like a COWARDLY SPARROW!” The words “cowardly sparrow” echoed through the cave for several seconds, as James finally reached the flat top of the rock, standing upon it at the ready. Matthew glared down at him, clearly offended. “No one,” Satyr said, seriously, “Calls ME a coward. Least of all you, James!” And then, Matthew Satyr did something you didn’t think you’d ever see him do on his own: he hovered down slowly towards the tall, stone tower…and landed upon it, his feet finally touching the ground. “If that’s how you want it,” he said to James Killian, daringly, and held out his rod almost invitingly. “I’ll fight you man-to-man. One hand behind my back!” James grinned ferociously. He leaned close, lifting his sword. Steel and steel slid against each other as weapons crossed, and he moved till he was almost nose to nose with Satyr’s defiant face. “Do you mean…you WON’T fly?” he cooed. Something about the way James said that made your blood run cold. “Don’t agree to that!” you shouted up at Satyr. “Keep the advantage!” Azul called out. “LISTEN NOT TO THAT RUFFIAN!” bellowed Sebek. “It’sss a trick, I promissse you!” warned Nakoda. Matthew Satyr didn’t seem to hear any of you. “I won’t fly,” he promised. “I give my word, James.” You heard Grim facepaw at your side and mumble, “Moron.” James Killian, for his part, looked like he’d just been made the happiest sleaze to ever sail the seven seas. “Good!” he cheered. “THEN LET’S HAVE AT IT!”

Without warning, James slammed himself against Matthew, knocking the smaller young man backwards. Matthew stumbled back with a grunt, and barely managed to avoid falling off the edge of the cliff. He had just enough time to block a ferocious, hacking slash from James’ sword, before the taller duelist swung up again, hammering blow after blow upon his foe, in a wild, frenzied sort of way. Killian seemed determined to drive Satyr over the edge. Finally, Matthew managed to duck and get behind James, but if he hoped to find an advantage that way, he was sorely disappointed. James spun around and slashed again. Matthew barely had time to duck, and then lifted his rod to block another strike. James wasn’t slowing down at all, and - unable to flit and swerve out of the way as he so often did while airborne - Satyr was clearly beginning to lose the fight. “I’ve had enough of thisss!” hissed Nakoda, clearly growing anxious, and began to try and run up the slope. “NO, DON’T!” you called out, afraid he would end up cleaved by Killian in the proverbial crossfire. James soon spotted Nakoda approaching and glowered. “DON’T INTERFERE!” he roared, and shoved Matthew aside. Satyr cried out as he fell over the edge…but managed to catch himself before he could hit the water. As Nakoda approached, extending an arm in an effort to grab hold of James, the left hand of his quarry swung out and slapped him across the cheek. Before Nakoda could recover from the sudden smack, James snapped his fingers…and Nakoda hit the stone slope like a sack of potatoes, weighed down by the crushing intensity of his own negativity. “Nako!” you cried out, and hurried up the slope to check on him. Nakoda had his hands on his ears, gritting his fangs as he curled upon the ground. “Sh-shut them up,” he whimpered, as if the fear, loathing, and sadness that filled his heart was bringing voices to his head. “Shut them up, please!” Grim mewed as he trotted up beside you, nudging the naga, but Nakoda just flinched away. Both of you looked up with great concern as you saw Matthew then return to the top of the stone. James wasted no time and swung his sword again… …And, to your horror, just as Satyr regained footing, his metal dueling rod was sliced clean in half. It had been weakened by the battle, and a final, strong strike had rendered it officially useless. Desperately, Matthew flung the blunted half at James, who swatted it aside, then jabbed out with his sword. Satyr stumbled and fell onto his back. Matthew looked more scared than you’d ever expected, as James Killian pointed the tip of his cane-sword at his throat. “Looks like I’ve got the upper ‘hook’ now!” taunted James, showing off the tattoo on his left hand. He then swept it behind his back and reeled back with his sword hand. “And now we end this…”

“NO! JAMES DON’T!” you shouted. “YOU CAN’T!” Grim yowled in alarm. James wasn’t listening. There was murder clearly visible in his eyes… …But you two weren’t the only ones who saw it. “He’s…he’s actually going to do it!” Azul gasped, as he heard James’ words. “We should stop him!” insisted Sebek, as Kes frantically nodded in agreement beside him. “How?” Azul said. “If we get close he’ll use his power on us.” “We can hit him from afar!” Sebek insisted. “Don’t you think he’d be expecting one of us to try that?” Azul snapped back. “Let me loose.” The two looked up at Smitty McCarthy. “What?” they asked in unison. “Let me loose!” Smitty repeated, struggling against the ropes. “And fast, before it’s too late!” The head of Octavinelle and the guardian of Diasomnia looked at each other…then nodded. The octopus and the crocodile hurriedly undid the knots…and just as James began to ready himself for the killing strike, Smitty landed on the deck, and lifted his right hand. “JAMES!” he shouted. Killian looked up, alerted…just in time to see the red energy gathering around Smitty’s hand. His face showed something close to horror. “HOLD IT, YOU FOOL!” he shrieked. “NO! NO!” Smitty shut his eyes tight, as if to try and give himself deniability…and launched his attack. BOOM! The Corkscrew Cannon fired…and the sphere of concussive energy rocketed towards James. Killian quickly tried to plunge his sword down and finish the job…but Matthew, now with ample time and warning, was able to roll out of the way.

The sword’s edge was stuck in a crack in rock…and a second later, the concussive blast struck James Killian, and he was blasted clean off the cliff. He flew off the edge and plunged into the water below, landing with a murky, loud SPLASH! Thus the duel between James Killian and Matthew Satyr was finished by Smitty McCarthy. Smitty opened one eye…and when he saw the ripples in the water, indicating where James Killian had fallen, both eyes leapt wide open. “JAMES!” he shouted, and scrambled his way off the Czarina, racing around the rocky “port” to the side of the deep pool in the center of the cave. Matthew, no longer obligated to keep his word, flew over to Smitty’s side as they approached the water’s edge. Azul and Sebek crept off the ship and over to join them. You, meanwhile, helped Nakoda onto his feet, as he was still reeling from James’ Unique Magic. The naga was clutching his stomach with one hand, letting out sort of hissing whimpers, as if he felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days, or even weeks. “Easy there,” you whispered, and helped him limp along to join the others. “I’ve got you.” Nakoda just let out a feeble sound and slumped along beside you, one arm over your shoulder as your own arm slung over his. Grim followed close behind you both as you approached the lake. Kes was floating over Matthew’s head, a nervous look in her eyes, as if she was scared of the water…or something inside of it… “James!” Smitty called out again to the water, as the pool began to still. His voice held a note of panic. “James, please, come up!” “I’ll go in and get him,” Matthew said, sternly, and began to rise higher into the air. “But he tried to kill you!” Sebek exclaimed. “Yeah, I know,” Matthew sighed, and gave a sort of weary smile. He seemed ready to dive down into the water from his height. “It’s hard being a hero, isn’t it?” Kes suddenly rang her pixie bells in wild alarm, and flew in front of Matthew’s face, shaking her head frantically. “Don’t try to stop me!” Matthew snapped. “I can’t just-” KA-ZLOOSH! Satyr’s words were cut short, as was any attempt to rescue James Killian, when the water of the cave suddenly seemed to explode outwards, as if a bomb had gone off. Kes hid behind Matthew in an instant. All of you stepped back, Grim yelping and ducking behind your legs…as a familiar swirl of inky black mist came spiraling out of the cavern lake. In the middle of the black cloud, pulsing red and violet light could be seen, like a glowing heart beating rapidly. “Wh-what’s going on?” Matthew exclaimed, somehow jumping in startlement in mid-air. Azul and Grim shuddered. They knew very well. “Overblot,” hissed Nakoda, ominously; he was equally familiar.

Sebek growled, gritting his teeth and moving into a battle-ready pose. As for yourself and Smitty, the two of you watched with matching, anxious expressions, as the black cloud began to dissipate… …And the first thing you saw were the iron hooks. Upon James’ left hand was visible a metal gauntlet, the fingers of which ended in long, hook-shaped claws, almost like a raptor’s talons. Upon the back of the gauntlet was painted the image of a red skull and crossbones, a shade of crimson that matched his long, red coat. The coat now more closely resembled a red Naval uniform coat from days long past…the cuffs of which were completely soaked in black ink, as if they had been dipped in the stuff, some of the ink spilling in ribbon-like patterns back along the sleeves. The brass buttons of the coat also were speckled with ink, and the black lapels seemed to drip ink onto other parts of the tarnished red outfit as well. The coat and the skull-and-crossbones were the only signs of vibrant color upon the whole ensemble. Beneath this, James’ usual outfit was visible, but the colors had changed; the boots were still black, but now ended in what looked like steel toes, which were spattered with drops of ink. He wore black trousers, a black shirt, and a belt the color of mud, the Jolly Roger buckle of which had turned silver instead of gold. Instead of a bandana, atop his head was perched a tricorn hat, colored a sort of pale, grayish purple, with a raven’s feather stuck in it. To top all of this off, the rings around James’ fingers on his un-gauntleted hand had also turned to silver…and one of his eyes had turned a glowing shade of crimson, with a familiar, fiery aura surrounding it.

James glared at you all, sneering as he floated downwards, soon lighting upon the rocky poolside of the dank cave. His voice echoed through the cavern, and seemingly through the entire mine, as frigid as a bitter North Wind. “Children,” he snarled. “I am surrounded by children. Selfish, idiotic, backstabbing little monsters who think they know better, when they know absolutely nothing. And the worst part is, when I decide to show the same form, they seem to think I’m being unfair. Loathsome! All of you! Well, I’m through playing games. I’m through spoiling you all with victory after victory. This time, I’M going to win! This time, I’M going to come out on top! And so I think it’s time all of you recognized…” He held out the gauntlet clad hand, fingers splayed out. “...What it feels like to grow up.”

To Be Concluded in Part 6…

#fanfic #my writing #kink-related #but only peripherally #gonna tag kinks in each post #just in case #implied vore #stuffing #belching #burping #not sure if any of these apply to this specific chapter #but they permeate the others #so whatever #disney #twisted wonderland #chapter story #the scarlet pirate #chapter 5 #oc story #ocs #james #james killian #smitty #smitty mccarthy #matthew #matthew satyr #nako #nakoda #nakoda spivak #non-ocs

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Opus

Cranked this out for FabFiveFeb - week 1 Virgil, and I’m pretty sure I managed to get all the words in there in this ficlet. I might be a bit proud of that.  It’s a little whump, a little hurt/comfort, but a whole lot of perseverance and also FishTank. You know me. You can’t throw the words Virgil and underwater and get anything different :)

Summary: It’s just one of Gordon’s little tests...

Characters: Gordon Tracy, Virgil Tracy Genre: Hurt/Comfort Words: 1.9K Warnings: holding breath

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44748377

*****

Opus

 It’s just one of Gordon’s little tests. 

Actually, no, it’s not little at all; it’s a pretty damn big test in that he’s been training for this specific exercise for longer than any other obstacle Gordon’s thrown at him. He doesn’t even need to hold his breath for as long as the requirement in the pool. It’s just a couple minutes, but it’s a couple minutes underwater, through one of the Tracy Island caves and out the other side.

There’s a reason Virgil picked up piano primarily, and not a woodwind or a brass instrument. He’s got the core control for it, but he’s not made for the lung capacity required, or rather he wasn’t. Gordon’s seen to that. Maybe if he were to try the trumpet nowadays, he’d be able to hold a tune, but even so he hates the way it feels without air. He hates it. 

He hates the idea of being a liability more, the one operative that can’t do the underwater rescues.

Key of Sea is sitting idle, anchored with the motor off, and Gordon’s brought them as close to the opening of the cave as is physically possible without the risk of the boat slamming into the side of the ancient volcanic rock he may or may not be about to sacrifice himself to. 

“You’ll be fine,” Gordon chirps, slinging himself over the side of the boat. “Remember, I’ll be right with you.”

Virgil reluctantly follows.

 It’s beautiful here, he can’t deny that. He’d rather be painting it – the way the deep sea greens swirl within the blue and rush against the grey stone with a wingspan of foamy ivory. He’d create it on the canvas in a way that teases the secrets below the waves. It makes him smile to feel the flutter of a fish – or many, he can’t quite tell – at his ankles.

“Now, remember, what we talked about,” his brother is explaining, treading water near the entrance. Virgil’s tried it once before and it wasn’t a catastrophic failure (nor was it a success), but Gordon’s got this cave memorized like the back of his hand, like it’s one of Scott’s running paths, except those are marked. “It’s going to be harder to hold your breath while exerting the energy to swim. This is meant to be a challenge. But I know you can do it! It’s okay if it doesn’t happen today.”

It’s important. Gordon teaches them to build up both their endurance and their breath control, but this exercise is as much about facing their instincts (and fears) as much as it is about the physical challenge. And it’s their reality. It’s not very likely he’ll need to rescue someone stuck in a pool where the shallow end is a reach away. 

“Ready?”

 “Ready,” Virgil confirms, though he doesn’t feel it at all. He takes a breath in and out, then IN, everything he can grab IN, and he dives, flicking on the light in his suit so he can see into the deep, dark.

It’s funny, underwater, he can feel the ripples the way his brother talks about all the time, and Virgil knows Gordon is right behind him even though he doesn’t look back. He can’t.

This isn’t even half the training Gordon would’ve had to endure through WASP. He can’t fathom it – having his hands tied behind his back and grabbing goggles off the bottom of a pool with his teeth, or doing this same exercise with a space double the length. He’s glad that, of all the caves Gordon could have chosen along the Tracy-Mateo arc, he picked one with a wide opening, with space enough for Gordon to slide in beside him if he wanted to.

He's got this. Half of success is confidence, isn’t it? That’s what Scott’s told him before. 

He’s not the swimmer Gordon is, and he can’t cut through the water in a way that makes him one with the waves. In fact, Virgil imagines he pushes through it with a force of will alone, with strength instead of dexterity, and he can feel his muscles straining differently below. The movement is so alien to him, as are the wet rocks pressing in on him while his lungs strain. 

They’ve got a signal for this. Gordon was thorough in his training of SCUBA signs also, long before they could touch any equipment, they had to prove they knew at a bare minimum the signs for danger, I need air, and return to surface. He’s to let Gordon know he’s running out of oxygen before it’s a problem.

Gordon’s got a rebreather, so he’s safe. 

There’s a point where the cave narrows. The first few times Gordon brought Virgil here it was to mentally map out the cave – he had his gear then since it wasn’t about the test at that point. Virgil appreciates that Gordon prepared him enough to know to expect it, though he hasn’t made it that far yet. 

He remembers this part of the cave, and he’s got this. 

His shoulders burn, but that’s a familiar feeling to him, and he’s so got this.

Until he doesn’t.

Virgil goes to raise his palm to his mouth and motion between himself and Gordon, but in turning, trying to find his brother somewhere behind him, he realizes it’s far, far too late. He’s not running out, he’s out out, and there’s a blackness hovering at the edge of his vision. His head is pounding, his arms won’t work, and he can’t find Gordon.

He knows he’s not supposed to gasp, but it happens anyway, too quickly for him to catch himself and remember the lessons Gordon’s taught him. His lungs burn, exploding out of his chest and with the pressure building deep within him, he feels his body scream like the high-pitched shriek of a teapot, except its his life whistling out of him instead of steam, and its enough for the water to snake its way in.

Arms come around him, and Virgil knows they’re Gordon’s, that they belong to his brother and mean rescue, but the panic coursing through him causes his body to jerk, resisting, especially as the blur of yellow starts dragging him, instead of giving him the rebreather. 

F*ck, there’s black, and he needs… he needs…. 

~*~

The wind hits his face. 

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re fine,” a voice babbles, awfully close to his ear to be comfortable, and it’s the edge of hysteria that has Virgil fluttering his eyes. At the same time his chest heaves, and he’s coughing out the Pacific, while Gordon pats him across the back.

 “M’srry,” Gordon’s mumbling, or maybe that’s the distortion in Virgil’s ears, “you were so close. You already took on water, I knew you needed to come up. I wasn’t fast enough.” 

“It’s ok,” Virgil tries to say, even though his lungs feel differently about it, and they steal the words out of his throat. 

“Just take a moment, big guy. Carefully.” His eyes are bright, his golden hair damp and curling darkly along the sides of his face, and Virgil knows he probably doesn’t look much better. “I know it sucks. I’m so so sorry.”

What for? He wants to say, but he learned better from the last time he tried to speak. 

They’ve made it to the other side of the cave, the south entrance, and Gordon’s pulled them up to a flat side of the rock face. 

“You blacked out on me for a bit,” Gordon tells him, reaching for his wrist for his pulse as the coughs fade lightly into shudders. “Not too much water though. I know it doesn’t feel like it. Scared me there for a second. What happened?”

He got too confident. Forgot to signal. He gives Gordon a thumbs up, a little to late for it to be ‘return to surface,’ but he doesn’t like the serious look on his brother’s face and maybe the irony will make him laugh.

Gordon’s lips press together. “I’m having John send the motorboat around. Hang tight.”

“No,” Virgil says, his voice squeaking. He doesn’t want to fail.

“No,” Gordon says flatly. “We’re done for today.” 

_______________________________________________

 “Do you know how many times it took for Scott to pass? Eight, Virgil. Eight.” Three pieces of toast, buttered, and sitting on Gordon’s plate get bombarded with three shakes of cinnamon sugar as the aquanaut tries not to look at his older brother. “You’re on two.” 

 “I’m telling you, I’m ready to try again.”

 “It just happened yesterday, bro, give yourself a break.” 

“Please?” Virgil’s not above pleading. He woke up early for this; he hopes Gordon sees just how pathetic he looks with his eyes heavy, glaring at him over his morning mug of coffee.

 “Give me a break, then? We need to figure out a new communication plan. That can’t happen again.”

Gordon is taking so much responsibility over yesterday, but Virgil knows it was his own fault that he forgot everything he’d been taught. After thinking about it, with his brain less waterlogged, he knows he shouldn’t have pushed himself. The challenge was to build up to crossing the cave, not nearly drowning in it.

 Assuring him just how much he trusted him, how much he appreciated him being there to pull him to shore doesn’t seem to have helped Gordon expel the cloud of fear. 

Virgil doesn’t want to go through that again, but now? Now he needs to.

And not just for Gordon, but for himself. He’d been so close. He can practically taste it, and today feels like the day.

He slams his coffee mug down, and luckily the liquid is low enough it doesn’t splash over, but it does swirl under the emphatic movement.

 “I can do it.” 

Gordon sighs deeply, taking a big bite of his toast and glaring as if Virgil would be offended that he’s not sharing. He’s not; that’s too much sugar for the morning. “Tell me again what your theory is.”

“I’m too slow.” 

“This early, yeah.”

Virgil’s turn to glare. “Hush. I mean it, though.  I need to think about it as making the journey faster, not trying to hold my breath longer. That’s how I get stuck in my head.”

Gordon chews his breakfast, giving nothing away, but Virgil knows he’s pondering the idea. “How do you get out of your head?”

 “Art, music, but I can hardly-”

“Can’t you?” And Gordon’s smiling, licking the cinnamon off of his teeth. Lord he can be gross sometimes, but Virgil can’t help but beam back.

~*~

It works like a dream. 

They finish their breakfast, and Virgil is well rested after exhausting himself the day before; he feels at the top of his game, and where yesterday’s forced confidence betrayed him, today… he just feels light. 

They have a go at the piano, looking for a piece somewhere in the range of the three to four minutes Virgil needs to traverse the cavernous path below the sea. Elise is too short, Moonlight too slow, and both are too easy to coexist in his brain with other thoughts. 

Gordon specifically wants him to try to find something to “hear” underwater, a favorite, one he loves, to help pull him through to the other side. When Gordon swims, he loses himself in the rhythm. For Virgil, whose finesse works different than that, they choose a Chopin waltz. It’s in minor, but it’s dreamy and bittersweet not all dreary and melancholy, so he feels like it will carry him well through the water. 

Gordon swings himself out of the boat, and Virgil is swept away with the sense of déjà vu, even though today feels different, today feels bright. 

“Got your song?”

Virgil nods. 

“Okay, I’m beside you,” Gordon nods back. 

He knows this, so the notes swell, and Virgil dives. 

#Gavii Scribit #For the love of FishTank #Gordon Tracy #virgil tracy #fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2023

[talesfromtheasterism]

WITNESS (III/VIII)

cw: horror, violence, abuse. Read from the beginning here.

It felt like an hour had passed in the dark, but it was hard to gauge time in a realm without sunlight. The passage had veered upwards enough to leave the black sky exposed within clambering distance. The adventurer heaved herself onto the surface above, and the scenery startled her. Rolling hills of weathered rock and dust, shattered by vast cracks to the same abyss below. A jigsaw of interlocking plates. In the centre of some, stagnant pools of strange, cloudy water, surrounded by saturated sand and alien flora that seemed a tad greener than the rest. The echoes were almost absent here, but every few seconds, another called unnervingly across the landscape. They were different. Almost like breathing, or shouting. This was the place. But it felt… wrong.

She was exposed, and isolated. It was hundreds of metres to the nearest hill for a vantage. She glanced back at the ravine. Maybe she could find another entrance to the area? No. The sighting happened around here. Disjointed plains an hour’s Moon-fore passage from the Commune. Her walk began quickly. The hill had some sharper outcrops around the edges. It would be some cover, at least. A little faster. As fast as she could move without clattering the metal of her equipment. Fast and silent, that was the way. That was the way… the ground. Why was the ground lit?

The lantern!

Wrenched from her belt with a gasp. The blood still burned! Extinguished almost violently. How long had she been walking? A minute or two? Best efforts to collect herself. Without realising, she had been slowing her breathing to quiet herself, leaving her suddenly short of breath. But they were drawn to light even more than sound. That was over now. Further on. Maybe two hundred metres left.

The sighting had to be genuine. She had seen many vagabonds and smugglers from the other realms trying to pass themselves as Voidwalkers, but even a native her age knew one when they saw one; compulsively fluid motions, leather and metal everything, and they never boasted about what they had seen or where they had gone. The Deep Void humbled all. One hundred metres. She stepped over a crevice with great care, regarding the starless absence below.

Moving without sound was slow, and exhausting, but she had time to check her messenger bag, flipping the strap with utmost care. Within, a wooden box with brass braces and copper dials. She didn’t need smugglers for a camera. Fifty metres. She had built it over months, piece by piece, acid-treating metal sheets and aligning light-stealing crystals. What better way to record her jaunts than with photographic images? But there was only so much to see in the Commune. She wanted something worthy of capture.

Her hand touched the porous cliff. But it was wrong as well. It was… shimmering. Just barely, like a gentle heat haze. She had never seen the outlands for herself, but it felt wrong. Wrong meant she was close. Creeping along the boundary of the outcrop, nearing the hill’s crest. Now, the lightest of the ground’s dust was raising slightly in the air. Her head felt heavy. She was exposed. But she would not be deterred from her only shot. The camera was risen slowly out of the bag. Even with the weight in her hands to anchor her, her arms trembled. There wasn’t time for fear.

Her masked face and camera lens peeked over at once. The landscape here was yet more broken, with less ground and more space between it. The Moon was hard to avert her gaze from, but she had no time to let it take hold. Even out of the corner of her eye, though – it was shifting and blurring. The downward slope into a shallow basin was violently distorted, like the air was superheated. But the air above the basin’s floor was truly wrong. It flowed. It crashed. It whined and it boiled and it cried and it melted.

The Witness was here.

This is it, Luna.

Part 3 of 8. Next. Previous.

#asterism #tales from the asterism #creative writing #horror #fantasy world #stars #writeblr #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #fantasy

[mindful-hempress]

If I Had A Flower

Keeping the bisected roots intact, I plant them into the soil where floral serpents slither.

Creating a labyrinth that reaches far below, intricate coils, segments of nature's residue.

Bathed in nirvana’s hidden pools, nurturing its growth, I serenade sonnets, and limericks.

A chorus of infinite verses harmoniously rings like bells, enchanting the architectural flora.

From the base of the flower's stem, a long tendril-like wire of emerald anchors a blossom.

The inflorescence flaunted itself as a glorious monolith; a floral column of essence canopy.

Slim pillared foliage guided and allured by the muse with beguiling luminous chants of life.

An epic story, as bold as brass, stemmed from thought; is now a flourished botanic ballad. 

Walata M.

Gif from Gfycat

#short poem #short poetry #poetry #poems on tumblr #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing #poem #writers

[grayrazor]

“Captain, you should have never taken Evangeline through that typhoon,” Jamestown barked as soon as I came down the stair. The engineer continued to growl through his white beard as he led me through the lower decks, “The winds ripped one of the screws (propellers) clean off. Number 3 engine is just dead weight now. But that’s nothing compared to this problem,” Jamestown gestured to one of the ballast tanks. There was a tear in the side big enough for a man to put his hand through, and silvery inertium was dripping up from it and pooling on the ceiling.

“How could this have happened?” I gasped, then, more practically, “how bad’s the loss?”

“I don’t know, Skipper,” Jamestown scratched his head. “I’ve heard stories about tornadoes sticking straw inches deep in tree trunks, but never any storm that could throw a piece of debris right through the steel side of a ship and the tanks inside. We’re lucky nobody was in the way of whatever that was or they’d be all over the walls now. Getting to the point, the ceiling should hold it for a while, but it won't be long before our ballast seeps between the deck plates and planks and falls into space--while we fall in the other direction. Between that and the lost prop-screw I give us maybe thirty miles before we sink.”

I pondered for a second. “I’ll have to check our position on the charts.” I sighed and undid the top button on my uniform, then loosened my scarf, “Don't get the crew’s hopes up. We didn't know these skies even before we met that storm. There’s no telling whether we’ll be able to get to a tall mountain or sky island to anchor and make repairs. At our altitude it’s unlikely anyone will survive a crash landing.”

Jamestown put his fists on his hips, “I'd die before leaving Evangeline to wreck anyways. I say we go for it!”

I tried to lighten the situation, “Where’s that loyalty to Evangeline when I need you and your lads to scrape the rust and parasites off her?”

He chuckled, though grimly, “ if you didn't run her engines so hard we’d have more boys and girls free for her beauty treatments instead of stifling boiler explosions or pulling hurricane-blown trees out of windows. Did you know Karlsdottir has been struck by lightning three times. Three times. Normal people only get it once if they’re lucky.”

“Didn’t Karlsdottir join because she thought working a sunfish trawler was boring?” I recalled.

“Aye. Hasn’t missed it once.”

I returned to my cabin and worked out from the position of the sun and various landmarks that we were about twenty-seven miles from a nameless, uninhabited sky-island. It was small, but not so small we would worry about Evangeline sliding off the edge if we ran out of ballast. Twenty-seven miles is scary close to thirty when thirty means falling to your doom.

By the time I had come up to the pilot-house to lay in a course the sun was setting. A wall of fog had started to roll in behind the storm we had weathered--right in the direction we needed to be going to reach the island. We would have to take it slow, lest we risk hitting inertium-infused rocks or befoul the screw-props on some skyfauna. The last thing we needed at this point was to hit a hydrogen whale or get an infestation of barnacle-gremlins. The slower we went though, the more time our ballast had to leak out.

After two hours I decided to let the pilot, Bjorn, do his job in peace. I walked back to my chair and watched the floodlights sweep back and forth through the haze, both in the air and on the bridge’s unwashed windows. There was nothing to be found on our old wireless, whether because of interference from the storm or because we were so far out in uncharted skies. Bjorn looked out of place among the brass instruments and steel bulkheads of Evangeline’s bridge. With his enormous arms, bushy mustache, and fur scarf he looked like he should be steerman on a viking longship rather than a tramp steamer. That, or like a walrus trying to pass itself off as human. Another hour passed with no noise, save for the wind rushing by and the churning of the engine nacelles. An unexpected sound was the one to break the silence: Leslie Chang on spotter duty, shouting through the speaking tube, “Wreck off the starboard braces! Half a mile off, four hundred feet above us!”

I jumped to my feet and grabbed my binoculars. As I ran to the nearest window I realized that one of the lenses had come loose inside, but any difficulty was made up for by the fact that all the floodlight operators had spotted the wreck and were training their beams on it. From what I could see it was the remains of an old wooden airship, maybe a century or more old. She was hanging in the air upside-down, her masts dangling below her hull like spider legs. “If she’s still adrift, her ballast barrels must be intact. This could be our saving grace!” I tapped Bjorn on the shoulder and he grunted in annoyance, “Bring us in close, steady as she goes. I’ll head below and prepare a boarding party.

Only four able-bodied skymen had agreed to come with me, the rest being old superstitious flyers who thought it was better to try and make it with what we had than to have anything to do with a wreck. Avery had been a circus acrobat in her former life; she was tall and thin but surprisingly strong. She would be handling the Mark IX grappling hook. Jamestown Jr. was the spitting image of his father, and always up for any dangerous task that he could use to impress. He and Karlsdottir would handle the barrels of ballast. And then there was Tex, who insisted he needed to come along for our protection. The man had at least five guns on him at all times, and I remain convinced that he came on all boarding and landing parties not for our defense, but because he had vivid and enthusiastic fantasies about shooting people.

We all stood along Evangeline’s forecastle gunwales as Bjorn brought us in close. Junior sputtered excitedly, “She’s not just any old hulk, this is an old imperial ship-of-the-line!” As we came past her stern the letters of her name were still visible amidst the airplants and algae: Antipathy, the most unimpressive name for a warship I ever saw. As Evangeline came around Antipathy’s far side we saw something that interrupted Avery’s grappling and stilled the hearts in our breasts: A long jagged crack ran along her side nearly from gundeck to keel. Something had all-but torn this cruiser in half. It was a marvel in itself, and a testament to her construction, that Antipathy was still one ship, and not a smattering of timbers, planks, and inertium barrels spiraling in the deeps.

Tex, as soon as he regained his composure, took advantage of an opportunity to freak out the more junior shipmates, “Ain’t no wind that done this. This’s the work of the Ziz.”

“The what?” Karlsdottir scratched her head

Tex was in full scary-story-narration mode, “They say on the week of creation the Almighty made three rulers for all the domains of the world. The Leviathan in the Sea, the Behemoth in the Earth, and the Ziz in the Sky. Not beast, not bird, not fish, big enough to block out the sun over an entire kingdom with its wings. A thing to make all the krakens and rocs pi--”

I had had enough, “You’d think something that big could do a bit more damage than this. I’ve seen angry hydrogen whales and wyverns do all kinds of horrible things to ships, even worse than this.” I hadn’t actually, but I wasn’t going to admit that, “Don’t overexcite yourself, Tex. You’re liable to shoot your fool self in the leg.”

Avery began to line up the shot in the linegun. “This would be so much easier if someone hadn't lost the skiff in the Jade Moors,” Junior grumbled.

#short story #I couldn’t think of what should happen next #I’m a lot better at coming up with setups than endings #airship #alternate history #fantasy #dieselpunk #steampunk #tramp freighter #ship of the line #doodle

[totalpoolsafetyinspections]

How to Put On Pool Safety Cover

How to Put On Pool Safety Cover

Homeowners with pools face many dangers, but one of the most common and potentially deadly is drowning. In fact, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), “drowning is the leading cause of death for children ages 1–4 years old.” In order to protect young children and pets from drowning, pool owners should install a safety cover. Here’s a step-by-step guide on how to put on a pool safety cover.

As a homeowner with a pool, you face many dangers. One of the most common—and potentially deadly—is drowning. In fact, According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), “drowning is the leading cause of death for children ages 1-4 years old.” To help protect your young children and pets from this danger, you should install a safety cover over your pool. This will serve as a physical barrier between your loved ones and the water.

There are many different types of safety covers available on the market, so it’s important to do your research to find the one that best suits your needs. You’ll want to consider things like the size and shape of your pool, the climate you live in, and your budget.

A pool safety cover is a must-have for any pool owner. Not only does it keep your pool clean and free of debris, but it also protects your family and pets from accidental falls into the pool. Putting on a pool safety cover may seem like a daunting task, but we promise it’s not as difficult as it looks. Follow these simple steps and you’ll have your pool covered in no time.

Step One: Measure Your Pool

In order to purchase the right size safety cover for your pool, you need to take measurements. First, measure the length and width of your pool using a tape measure. You’ll also need to find the height of your coping (the edge that goes around the perimeter of your pool). Once you have these three measurements, you can purchase a safety cover that’s specifically designed for your pool.

Step Two: Install the Anchors

Most safety covers come with brass or stainless steel anchors that will need to be screwed into the decking around your pool. The number of anchors you’ll need will depend on the size of your pool. Once you have installed all of the anchors, you’ll need to attach them to the cover using nylon straps or cables.

Once you’ve decided on a safety cover, the next step is to install it. This can be a tricky process, so it’s important to follow the manufacturer’s instructions carefully. If you’re not feeling confident in your ability to do this, there are plenty of professional installation companies that can help.

Once your safety cover is installed, it’s important to inspect it regularly to make sure it’s in good working order. Look for tears or holes, and be sure to tighten any loose bolts. By taking these precautions, you can help keep your loved ones safe from the dangers of drowning.

 Step Three: Put On the Cover

Once all of the anchors are in place around your pool, it’s time to put on the cover. Start by unfolding the cover and placing it over the surface of the water. Then, use the nylon straps or cables to secure them in place around the anchors. Make sure that there are no gaps between the edge of the cover and the decking; otherwise, someone could slip underneath it and into the water. Also, be sure that any drains or skimmers are covered so that nobody can accidentally fall in while trying to remove leaves or debris from them.

Conclusion:

Installing a pool safety cover is a great way to protect young children and pets from accidentally falling into your pool. In addition to preventing drownings, safety covers also keep your pool clean and free from leaves and other debris. Best of all, putting on a pool safety cover is relatively easy and can be done in just a few hours! Taking these steps will help ensure that your safety cover is properly installed and working correctly. By doing so, you’ll help protect your loved ones from accidental drowning.

from Total Pool Safety Solutions https://ift.tt/vh4mOYH via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Total Pool Safety Solutions

[texasrainmakers3]

How to Use Low-Cost Lighting on Your Home

Landscape lighting, otherwise known as backyard lighting or garden lighting is the application of outdoor lighting to private or public outdoor spaces; for the purpose and enhancement of security, night visibility, accessibility, safety, recreational and aesthetic uses, and social and even event uses. Some common features that are found in landscape lighting are a pathway illumination, fixtures for water features, statues, archways, lighting for pools, fountains, wells, decks, fire pits, lanterns, and signs. Lighting for a private landscape is usually provided by a landscape contractor who specializes in landscape lighting.

The best led lighting kits will offer all the options that are needed for your landscape lighting needs, including transformer, ground cable, wall switch, ground cable tie-wire, transformer lead, voltage brass spotlight kit, and mounting accessories such as screws, anchors, brackets, wire, and clips. It is important that you check out and research each and every option, because it is only through this that you can ensure that the landscape lighting system you have bought offers you the best value for your money and serves all your outdoor lighting needs. For instance, if you have a large yard with a deck, then you will definitely need to have a transformer that is long enough to handle the electrical load, along with a ground cable that is at least eighteen feet in length. Your deck lighting should also come with an outlet, or you may consider having the outlet specially installed because this is very useful especially if the area is not located near any electrical outlets.

There are also many lumens of lighting available in the market today and it has become easier for people to install these lighting systems at their homes because many lumens of lighting are now available in the form of LED lights. Nowadays, many homeowners are switching to using LED lighting because of the advantages that they provide when it comes to energy consumption, durability, and brightness. This type of lighting system consumes only thirty-seven percent of what regular incandescent bulbs consume in order to give off enough light to light up your entire garden or yard. LED lights do not create heat whatsoever, so they are ideal to use in areas where there is a high level of temperature such as your deck and patio.

Visit the best landscape lighting services provider here: Texas Rainmakers

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Kristan & Scott’s gorgeous Los Angeles, California loft is filled with Craigslist scores, antique-store finds, and pieces with the patina of age. Against a backdrop of high windows and white brick walls, their carefully chosen array of furnishings feels both well worn and luxe.

A local junk shop provided an unexpected boon: A pair of brass stag end tables for a song. Books on the glass top make it look like they’re balancing on the stags’ noses.

A well-used leather pouf sits next to a mid-century modern coffee table.

In the adjacent dining room, a 1970s mahogany table, refinished in ebony paint is paired with vintage leather chairs.

This is the splurge piece that Kristen thinks looked great in every home they’re had. She bought it in New York and didn’t tell Scott until she got it home. 

An antique wine-tasting table anchors the loft's entryway.

A $10 trunk in the entry was the first item the couple bought for their very first home. The antique toolbox, which once stored drafting tools, now holds keys and mail. And the lamp is an old heater that Scott rewired.

"This [Brunswick] billiards table is the reason everyone wants to come to our place after nights out or on the holidays," says Kristan.  Above it, a vintage Model T luggage rack has been fashioned into a light fixture.

Sconces with flickering bulbs—inspired by gas lanterns and bought on eBay—create a warm lighting scheme throughout the loft. "We're like bats," says Kristan. "Every bulb is 25 watts and set on a dimmer." (My mom’s home was like that.)

A vintage military carrier found at a yard sale holds antique golf clubs and pool cues.

The couple chose to create a separate area for snuggling and watching movies.

Their record collection "gets used every morning and night." Antique fencing helmets and Scott’s Les Paul guitar are part of the eclectic mix.

An old AM radio that the couple listens to as they get ready in the mornings, occupies a whitewashed corner of the kitchen.

They bought this picture at a flea market b/c it bears a striking resemblance to Kristan’s mother.

A standard IKEA kitchen was revamped with leather drawer pulls, additional shelving, and contrasting baseboards.

The light-filled kitchen features warm metals, including rustic copper piping and tableware.

"We both have a very masculine aesthetic," says Kristan. "I've never been a floral bedding kind of girl." The clean lines of the bedroom allow for "any kind of weird or ornate tables we would ever want to put there."

The inventive clothing racks in the closet were made from utilitarian gas-pipe parts found at The Home Depot.

https://www.lonny.com/Kristan+Cunningham+and+Scott+Jarrell's+LA+Loft/articles/DAVxhmX4zyq/In+the+Closet

#industrial loft #flea market style decor #long post

[sugar-petals]

Club Daemon (m)

PAIRING. merman!baekhyun x vampire!reader

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

↳ WORDS. 27k

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

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

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

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

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

Doesn’t look like hell, does it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fumes, and the candles, and the daffodils—

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

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

„Yes—?“

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

Now you know why he speaks first.

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

„A... alright.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„So, this setting, um—“

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

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

Oh man.

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

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

„I see? Uh...“

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

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

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

Immediately, you recognize the sound. It is Taemin.

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

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

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

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

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

„Do drink. It is handpicked for you!“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„I’m starting to see why.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Oh…“

Your kind.

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

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

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

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

The butler.

He’s been sticking out like a sore thumb.

You felt him since the very first moment.

„Yes,“ Taemin says.

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

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

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

„Expelled?“

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

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

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

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

„So what happened?“

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

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

„You met Satan personally?!“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„He is?!“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Strong in training?”

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

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

„Are you Satan’s son as well, Kai?“

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

„My old man? Mammon.“

„Mammon? Ugh.“

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

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

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

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

Yukhei looks dead serious.

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

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

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

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

Taemin nods at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which one person, as always, disagrees with.

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

„Figured as much.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Right.“

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

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

„Can we really do it so secretly?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What to do about Yukhei. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„What’s the safest one, then?“

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

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

„Oh wow.“

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

„You’re keeping criminals in here?!“

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

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

„You’re isolating yourself during full moons.“

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

„I…see.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Reassuring…“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit, you almost forgot about the owl guy.

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

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

„Bookkeeper, I see?“

„Yes, we do keep a secret chronic.“

„Oh, alright? Spanning for how long?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Birth marks?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„What?“

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

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

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

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

„Yukhei!“ Taeyong cuts right back.

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

„What are you saying!“

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

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

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

„Don’t—!“

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

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

„Wings! Her wings!“

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

„Here! Look here, now!“

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

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

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

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

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

Great. You have special snowflake wings.

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

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

„But what does the color mean, then?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yukhei doesn’t have to be told twice.

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

Mark nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And disgusting, but that’s another story.

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

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

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

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

„Would enjoy what?“

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

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

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

„Okay—?“

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

„What does that mean now?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Okay? But how would you know?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Yeah, I guess.“

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

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

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

“Um...“ Mark stares at his own feet.

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

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

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

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

„We have to… Well…“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Technically not wrong.“

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

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

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

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

Today’s braless day, but anyways.

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

„It… It is as dramatic as Kai said!“

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

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

„What the fuck is that!“

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

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

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

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

“I can’t say—”

“Tell me, Mark! What is this sign!“

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

„Like what?“

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

„Who is that guy? He’s my dad?“

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

„I am the King’s daughter?“

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

He can hardly pronounce the name without everybody flinching.

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

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

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

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

„So there’s a triangle going on!“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Wha—“

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

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

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

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

„No objections. Training starts today.“

————————

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

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

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

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

„I’m on my 50th day of training now.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„I feel like… It’s so hard to say.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„I feel that.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Ah… thank you.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„You really saw it that clearly?“

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

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

„You had a crop top on.“

What?

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

Baekhyun starts giggling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cast down your eyes. „I know.“

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

„Baekhyun—“

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

„Bonding?“

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

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

„What!“

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

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

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

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

„I beg your pardon?“

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

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

„It, it is not the intention—“

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

„You— You don’t?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baekhyun stutters, decoiling not one inch from his position.

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

„Yeah, but why are you asking?“

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

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

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

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

You shake your head.

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

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

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

„Is he— that desperate?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„You actually wouldn’t?“

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

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

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

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

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

„Apparently not.“

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

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

„First time someone ever asked.“

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

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

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

„Ah, I, I see. I get it now.“

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

„That’s only logical!“

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

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

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

„Baekhyun, you, you are… God damn…“

You can’t say it. You can’t.

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

And just when he decoils himself to his full size—

It happens.

„Ah! What was that!“

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

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

„From the vase?!“

„Yes, it’s, it’s…“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Really?“

„Of course…“

„God,“ you laugh, „oh God.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Well… yes.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Are you really ready—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Yeah. Merman thing. Mark said that.“

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

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

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

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

„I’m not gonna leave you like that.“

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

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

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

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

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

„Yes…!“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Really sorry for my big cock.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Yep.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Don’t worry. He’ll smell it.“

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

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

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

„Y/N.“

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

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

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

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

„You listened to us!“

He keeps his lips tight, not granting any reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. Of course.

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

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

„Eh.“

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

„No shit, Yukhei.“

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

„You’ll change your program?“

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

„What?“

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

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

„I’m listening.“

„I’m not stupid, okay.“

„Inaccurate, but go on.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„And you realize that only now.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yukhei remains silent for a while after that.

„The tension between our kinds has a reason.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Now tell me something I don’t know.“

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

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

„What do you mean?“

„We left you seven empty places, right.“

„So that was not a coincidence.“

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

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

„Did you… you…“

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

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

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

„That’s insidious.“

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

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

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

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

„So?“

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

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

„Never say that word again.“

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

„I’m not denying that, Y/N.“

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

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

„I never said that’s a lie, Yukhei.“

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

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

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

„Well you’re right.“

„Unfortunate.“

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

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

„I really wouldn’t.“

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

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

„Leave away the last part of the sentence.“

„I’ll control my senses.“

„Ma’am.“

„I’ll control my senses, Ma’am.“

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

„Last time I checked, 21.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Yes, after I clearly made my pick.“

„Then that’s that.“

„That’s that.“

„So what are we gonna do?“

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

„If I can.“

„Are you the president or are you not?“

„Fair enough.“

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

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

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

Some confusion at his word choice, some giggles.

„So that’s been making the roun—“

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

„O—okay?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Hello, hello!“

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

SHOCKING!

SATAN’S HEAVENLY RETURN

Ruling hell too stressful after all?

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

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

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

Who knows God talked some sense into Lucifer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Hey dad.“

„It is!“

„Hello. You’ve heard about me, then.“

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

„Oh God.“

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

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

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

„I can tell.“

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

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

„The what?“

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

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

„You could say that, yeah!“

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

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

„Yeah dad, it’s Baekhyun.“

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

„He’s really sweet.“

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

„Dad!“

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

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

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

„That was all planned?!“

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

„Yeah.“

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

„I dunno…“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Okay, that’s good news!“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Strike! I convinced you!“

„Yeah, you did…“

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

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

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

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

„Will do.“

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

You perk up, as do the club members.

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

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

„…exactly.“

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

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

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

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

„Gotta keep it easy and make it fun.“

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

„Dad, what the hell!“

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

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

„Okay, crazy old man.“

„At your service!“

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

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

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

„Um, the butler guy.“

„Taeyong, here it goes. See you dad!“

You pass the hellephone, Taeyong poises himself.

„Hey there, young man!“

„Not that young. 552, Sire.“

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

„Yes, Mister?“

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

„Pardon— Try on what?“

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

„A prosthetic arm aid?“

„Well yes!“

„That’s… that’s very kind of you.“

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

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

Everybody is on the edge of their seat.

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

„Hi up there, Lucas what’s good?“

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

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

The King sounds genuinely surprised.

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

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

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

„Shoot.“

He begins drinking it.

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

Lucas spits out the tea.

„Sorry, what?“

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

„I-Is she a half-breed?“

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

„Uh… Bestiality I thought, Sir.“

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

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

„Oh, uh, I get it.“

„So, do you want to meet her or not?“

„We, we have free spots all the way!“

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

„The stai—!”

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

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun #superm #super m smut #sub!baekhyun #super m #super m x reader #superm fanfic #club daemon #female reader x super m #super m fanfics #long post #baekhyun x reader #exo #exo smut #sub!exo #sub!superm

[getacluedrew]

Nancy Drew book collecting

The Game Books

There are LOTS of Nancy Drew books. Since being published in April of 1930 there have been many versions, rewrites, updates and new mysteries which are still ongoing today in some way! So the question is, “Where to start?!” This is less like book collecting and more akin to comic collecting. Which series? What dates matter? Are some rarer than others? Fear not sleuth! I’ll try and help you out. It’s less a question of “true value” and more the value to you. So start there. What sort books are you wanting to collect.

This post will focus on the Books which inspired the Games

Alright gang lets get down to brass tacks. Many of us are here because one day we sat down and dived into a mystery computer game as teen detective Nancy Drew! Many of our favorite and beloved adventures were inspired from books in the series and this will help serve as that list or knowledge of knowing which you should look for. 

As stated above many of us grew up playing these games and hold them in a special place in our hearts. But what books are they based on? Are they based on one book or several? Well the short hand answer... Yes...

Doesn't make since? let me explain. 

The games are based on the Nancy Drew books, but they borrow aspects from the Nancy Drew Universe as a whole, such as places, names, and details. For the avid reader it’s little things that make these games so special,  you can find all sorts of Easter Eggs and details. The games pull from multiple books and even other media to inspire their game play. So it’s very unfair to say they are based on only one book when they hold details, plot points, mcguffins ect from multiple sources.  

That being said we are here for book collecting, and the fact remains the games ARE EACH based on a Book, or Books in some cases, as their main inspirations. 

So which are they? First thing to know is, most of the Nancy Drew games are mostly based on later books in the series which tended to come out in the 80′s, 90′s and early 2000′s, to the exceptions of a few. Often times these mysteries, not only modern in setting, offered a bit more high stakes and drama than their older 60′s rewrites. However it’s worth noting that the games did not always borrow the names of their respected book titles, so you need to know the book’s name over the game. 

There are many lists here on tumblr, and online that can tell you the names of the books, and I simply wish to add to the pool as another resource for you. So bellow will be a list along with the covers of the mysteries that inspired the game. 

 Some versions of the books will have more than one cover and language. For example “Haunted Carousel” has 4 different versions of cover art and three different language translations, Norwegian, Finnish, Swedish. 

So if you don’t want to buy the books for every game you can focus on your favorites and find their various covers. Despite being more recent than the 1930s or 40s, these books are not easy to come by and require some hunting! But that’s a good thing right? It’d be no fun to just be able to order them all in one go ;) 

So if you are a collector that loves nostalgia, wishes to collect the books based on your favorite games, doesn’t mind some hunting, and doesn’t mind having a jumbled collection, then these books are for you! 

If you want to learn more and get into collecting further I highly recommend looking at the Farah’s Guide for more information or check out, nancydrewsleuth.com.

check out other related posts bellow.

Pt 1 “Firsts”

Pt 2 “The Orange Silhouettes” 

Happy Hunting!!! 🔍📚

Bellow is the “List”. The number of the game is on the left and the titles or title it is based on follow. Only one cover art is shown per book.

  The list: 

1. -Nancy Drew Case Files 1 “Secrets Can Kill” August 1986 

2. - Nancy Drew Case Files 17 “Stay Tuned for Danger” May 1991

3. - Nancy Drew 122 “Message in a Haunted Mansion” December 1994

4. -Nancy Drew 128 “Treasure in a Royal Tower” December 1995

5. -Nancy Drew Case Files 36 “Final Scene” August 1989

6. -Nancy Drew 124 “Secret of the Scarlet Hand” May 1995

7. -Nancy Drew “Ghost Stories” 1989 & Nancy Drew 167 “Mystery by Moonlight” July 2002

8. -Nancy Drew 72 “Haunted Carousel” October 1, 1983

9. -Nancy Drew 153 “Whispers in the Fog” April 2000

10.-Nancy Drew 5 “Secret of Shadow Ranch” 1965

11. Nancy Drew 77 “The Blue Beard Room” August 1988

12. - Nancy Drew 1 “Secret of the Old Clock” & Nancy Drew 2 “The Hidden Staircase” & Nancy Drew 4 “Lilac Inn” 1964

13. - Nancy Drew Hardy Boys Super Mystery “Mystery Train” November 1990

14. - Nancy Drew Case Files 30 “Death by Design” December 1988

15. - Nancy Drew 143 “Mystery on Maui” June 1998 & Nancy Drew Hardy Boys Super Mystery “Tropic Fear” November 1992

16. - Nancy Drew 164 “Mystery of Mother Wolf” 2002

17. - Nancy Drew 81 “Mardi Gras Mystery” 1988

18. - Nancy Drew 78 “Phantom of Venice” October 1985

19.- Nancy Drew 168 “Bike Tour Mystery” 2002

20.- Nancy Drew 70 “The Broken Anchor” 1983

21. - Nancy Drew 158 “Curse of the Black Cat” January 2001

22. - Nancy Drew 155 “Mystery in Tornado Alley” 2000

23. - Nancy Drew 56 “The Thirteenth Pearl” February 1979 & Nancy Drew Hardy Boys Super Mystery “Tour of Danger” April 1992

24. - Nancy Drew 64 “Captive Witness” November 1981

25. - Nancy Drew Case Files 43 “False Impressions” January 1990 & Nancy Drew 163 “The Clues Challenge” October 2001

26. - Nancy Drew Hardy Boys Super Mystery “Secrets on the Nile” November 1995

27. - Nancy Drew 165 “Crime lab Case” 2002 & Nancy Drew on Campus “In and out of love” July 1997

28. - Nancy Drew All New Girl Detective 10 “Uncivil Acts” March 2005

29. - Nancy Drew 41 “The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes” 1964

30. Nancy Drew Girl Detective Super Mystery 3 “Real Fake” July 2007

31. - Nancy Drew 60 “Greek Symbol Mystery” May 1981

32. - Nancy Drew 27 “The Secret of the Wooden lady” 1950

33. - Nancy Drew 33 “The Witch Tree Symbol” 1955 & The Hardy Boys 55 “The Witch Masters Key” 1976

#Nancy Drew #books #book #book collecting #games #herinteractive #clue crew #cluecrew #getacluedrew

[mygotholdladyheart]

Liam's Mansion he made for the Mighty Nein:

Entry way with 9 walls all decorated in beautiful stain glass depicting the different schools of magic.

Brass Iris closing the door opened and closed with Zemnien.

The whole place has a hole through the center that you can ride up and down in just by thinking.

The second floor has 9 doors and some runway system - maybe used by small servants?

Has a 3 story library filled with comfy chairs, fainting couches, maps, and a large fireplace with stain glass in a pattern similar to Molly's coat.

Cad's room has a scarab beetle on the door, large furniture, a pool, flowers, crystals, a depiction of Cad's family story, endless hot water, an attached garden with beatles, and randomly a magma pool area...

Yasha's room has depictions of the storm lord and is bursting with flowers. Her attached room is a straw pit with Jester's mural on the wall that moves in the wind. Her bedroom has an insect area for late night snacking.

Fjords room has an anchor on the door, the room looks like the inside of the ship , his table looks like the alter from the sea hag lair. His attached room is a meditation room with maps of his home and a stone statue of the wild mother. His bedroom has a hammock hanging from the ceiling which is what he probably slept in when he was on ships.

Beau's room has a stain glass picture of the mighty nein looking out on the fields of the Empire. Her attached room has a writing desk, 3 bostaffs, cobalt blue sashes every where, and a practice fighting area. Her bed has a mirror on top that Yaysha said would be handy.

Jester's room has an arch on the doorway, a stain glass of her home and mom, and has similar furniture similar to the lavish chateau. Her attached room is a large art studio with paint and white walls she can decorate. It also has a side table with pastries and berries. Her bedroom is more a grown up elegant version of her childhood bedroom with stained glass windows depicting what she would see looking out her bedroom. It has some of her art and a painting of her mother. The art (the lighthouse in her hometown) on her canopy bed moves like Yaysha's and you can hear the sounds of the city and water.

Veth's room has a slightly green door, halfling sized furniture, bowls of buttons and crystals, and a painting of her family. It has an attached kids room for Luke with toys, a family oil painting, and targets for shooting. Her bed has a trundle she can let Luke sleep in.

Caleb and Veth have a shared lab with alchemical station and a desk area with paper and books.

The dining room has buffet tables, a fireplace, and a large table for all of them to sit at together.

Cat servants with prehensile tails!!!

Each room has a red rope pull that calls cat servants that have their own little doors!

The whole place slightly rotates.

Widogasts Nascent Nein Sided Tower

Liam has been working on the design for a year!!

#critical role #critical role spoilers #critrole #critrole spoilers #cr spoilers #cr liveblog #c2e111

[owillofthewisps]

beckoning light - part four

notes: in a classic writer move, i knew exactly what i wanted to do in this chapter and just couldn’t get it out of my head. in some ways this is the fic that takes the most out of me, because i can see it so well and i want to get it down as i see it. life, of course, rarely works that way. hopefully the next chapter will be faster!

anyway this is my thousandth post on this blog. it feels right that it’s beckoning light. and yes i may have stopped posting just so that could happen, i’m just like that.

rating: light mature? (just some dirty thoughts, really. some brief descriptions of wounds.)

pairing: geralt of rivia/fem reader

word count: 3.5k

part one ∙ part two ∙ part three

the wisps have never led you astray, but you hadn’t expected them to lead you to him. 

The sun pools over you, a warm pond of golden light.

It warms the house despite the breeze stirring through your open shutters, a cool lick of wind that plays over your skin like a soft kiss. The forest breathes, the leaves fluttering with each exhale, sending the dappled sunlight dancing over the ground. You can hear the pulse of it, the forest song fading into a heartbeat as familiar as your own.

You hum to yourself. The gaps between the trees are still shaded, dark maws of space, the little saplings rising like teeth, sharp with growth. The forest will swallow you whole one day, you know.

There is the faintest hint of movement in that velvet night space between the trees, and your hands slow, the knife heavy in your grasp. Asha nudges you, calls you back, her blocky head solid against your hip. “Nuisance,” you tell her, but you trail your fingertips over the velvet slip of her ears. The grumble that leaves her resonates like a summer storm thick with thunder. She nudges you again, her nose smudging cold through the thin fabric of your shift.

“Nuisance,” you say again, but you are betrayed by the honeyed warmth of affection that lines your voice. She huffs and you relent. You slice off a small hunk of sausage, smeared greasy with slick fat, and give it to her. “Satisfied?”

Her tail thumps against the floor, a whip crack of noise, and she licks at your fingers before nosing at you once more.

“I suppose not,” you say. You bump her with your hip. “But that’s quite enough. Go on then.”

Asha grouses, a rumble of a sound, but she obeys. She pauses just long enough for you to lean down and press a kiss against the crown of her head.

You dip your fingers into a nearby bowl of water to rinse them before returning to your task. The breeze trickles in through the window, tugs at your sleeves with playful fingers, but your knife is steady as it slides through the rest of the sausage. You pluck a bundle of fresh thyme from your shelves and crush the delicate leaves beneath the flat of the knife. The woody, earthen smell of it wafts up, a forest all its own. You breathe it in, this hint of the wild, and feel Geralt’s eyes upon you.

You don’t think you have words for it, for the sunscorch of his amber eyes and how they’ve burned themselves into the marrow of your bones.

“Tell me, Witcher,” you say, “is breakfast so fascinating that you can’t look away? I know that food on the road leaves much to be desired, but this seems excessive.”

“It’s not breakfast that I’m looking at.”

You glance over your shoulder.

In the daylight, even ensconced in the cradle of your bed and your worn, rumpled blankets, Geralt brings to mind the statues that stood proud in the summer-scented courtyards of the marquess’s estate. The breadth of him is mesmerizing, the slope of his shoulders a mountain range of muscle.

Your gazes meet. Geralt’s eyes are tinder sparks, a flare of heat catching against the kindling of your desire, and the air thickens, goes syrupy at the edges. It’s the breath before a storm, the sultry promise of something on the horizon drawing near. You swallow. His golden eyes dip to the play of your throat, drag a trail of phantom touch across your skin.

He stops cleaning his sword, his grip tightening around his broadsword’s hilt - your piece of the bargain struck, a trade for him remaining abed until Hadrian arrives - and you shift. You think of how his fingers would press indents into the plump of your thigh as he pulls you to him, as he settles the heat of your slick cunt against the thick line of his cock. The kindling catches alight low in your belly.

Geralt inhales, his jaw sharpening as he grits his teeth. 

The sun glistens against him, catches on the thin sheen of sweat on his chest, and you focus on the swath of bandages across his chest. Miniscule blossoms of dark crimson have sprouted in the cotton, tiny clusters of ruby flowers.There are not many of them, but they are there. It dampens the edges of the heat.

“Funny,” you say lightly, turning back to the cutting board, “because you look hungry.”

“I’ve no doubt you can sate my appetite.”

“Then I’d best finish making breakfast.”

Geralt grunts.

His eyes linger as you work. The pan nestled into the hearthfire spits as you drop the sausage into it, the thyme going crisp, the small leaves furling back onto themselves in a last bid of protection. Asha moves closer to the hearth, ever hopeful. You crack the dove eggs into the pan. She snuffles at the shells when you discard them, heaving a mournful sigh that has a smile flirting at your lips.

“Here,” you tell Geralt, handing him a plate piled high, “eat.”

You wave off his thanks. As is your habit, you clean while you eat, stepping around Asha’s massive frame as she trails after you forlornly.

“I feed you,” you tell her, ignoring the way her velvet ears perk up at the sound of your voice. “Stop acting as if I don’t.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the faintest flicker of a smile on Geralt’s lips.

It is not long until you are taking back an empty plate from Geralt. The sun has risen higher, the shadows shifting as it treks across the deep blue of the late morning sky. It glints off of Geralt’s broadsword, and you take a moment to appreciate the way his forearm bunches as he glides the cleaning rag against the flat of his sword, his thick fingers deft.

You eye him meditatively. “I don’t suppose you’ll stay abed if I go tend the garden?”

He grunts.

“That’s not an answer,” you tell him, scooping up a basket. You should change, likely, but your chemise covers enough, and hearth has already spit soot-streaks onto it.

He keeps at his sword, keeps those long, rhythmic strokes.

You sigh. “Keep to the bed,” you tell him. “It will help with the pain, as I understand it.”

“Witchers are used to pain.”

“That doesn’t mean you should suffer it needlessly,” you say mildly. It is an assumption and overstep in the same breath, but you are not always kind enough nor wise enough to curb yourself. “Used to pain’ differs from ‘deserves pain’, and you do not deserve it, no matter what they tell you.”

His hands go still for a breath, his knuckles curving into hard peaks, whitening like snow-capped mountains.

“I do not know if you are punishing yourself,” you say, “but if you are, consider who you are doing it for.”

Before he can respond, you dart out the door with Asha romping wild at your heels.

                                            ---------------------------

“Careful,” you say absently, tugging up another ruby red radish and shaking the thick loam off of it. The soil is still laden with the morning dew’s touch, sweetly damp and cool. You let your fingers sink home, curl them into the soil like roots to anchor you in the earth. You pinch the radish stem between your fingers and tug. “There’s cow parsnip nearby, it’ll give you an awful rash.”

“I suppose I should be used to that.”

You raise a brow. “To having an awful rash?”

Jaskier makes a deeply offended noise. “That seems uncalled for!”

You laugh, sitting back on your heels. You wipe at the sweat on the side of your neck. The dirt smears there, but you leave it for now. “What else was I supposed to think?”

The bard sputters. “Not that!”

You pull up another few radishes, twisting their leafy greens through your fingers. “What should you be used to, then, Jaskier?”

He peers down at you, his cerulean eyes gleaming like the sea waves beneath the afternoon sun. “The way you knew I was coming. Geralt’s impossible to sneak up on, what with his Witcher nonsense, the enhanced senses and all. Doesn’t stop him from pretending he can’t hear me when I’m talking to him, though.”

“Oh,” you say, “I hadn’t realized you were trying to sneak up on me.”

“I wasn’t,” Jaskier says, “but you seemed far away.”

You smooth the dirt back into place, covering the small divots that used to house the radishes. There are more radishes nearby, but it won’t hurt to harvest them another day. “I was, but the trees told me you were coming.”

Jaskier eyes you, rolling a brass button between his deft fingers. He seems to be honoring the burgeoning season, his fine doublet the faded burnt orange of fallen autumn leaves. “Right,” he huffs, settling his hands on his hips. “Has anyone told you that you’re hard to read, woodwife? Your face, though pretty, is a mystery to me, and I cannot quite tell if you are serious.”

You bite down on your smile. “Oh, didn’t the villagers tell you about that, the trees and their gossip?”

“Well yes,” he says, pulling you to your feet when you hold out a hand. He braces you as you stumble. He’s broader than you thought, the cut of his clothes cloaking his apparent strength. “But they also told me that you feed the forest - wouldn’t say what, which is a bit unnerving, I’d be concerned about Geralt but he’s so thorny anything that eats him tends to spit him back out again - and that you’re part tree yourself, so you can see how it might get a little difficult to sort out.”

You scoop up your basket and tuck it into the crook of your hip. “Even if I could talk to trees, they wouldn’t have needed to tell me. You’re not quiet,” you say with a smile. “I think most would hear you coming. Is Hadrian inside?”

“Yes, he said something about how I should wait because of your hellbeast.”

“He exaggerates. She’s likely running through the woods anyway.”

“Having seen the size of your hound, I thought I should defer to his knowledge.”

You nudge the door open with your foot. “Understandable, I suppose,” you say. You duck inside the house and Jaskier follows.

You pay your three visitors little mind as you put away the garden’s harvest. It’s a meager one, but that’s not uncommon at this time, too early for most fall crops to be fully grown. And meager does not mean poor; the radishes are rotund little things, gleaming under the layer of dirt, and the carrots are full bodied and the color of a setting sun. You wipe the dirt from them as best you can and then tuck some away. You glance at the bed.

Hadrian is examining Geralt with careful fingers.

The Witcher is stoic, but there’s a hint of pain tucked into the corner of his lips. You are sure he can feel your eyes, but he keeps his amber gaze trained on the foot of the bed.

Hadrian moves with quick delicacy, checking at the whitening edges of the wound, where the skin is pulling tight with the promise of a thick scar. The very center of the gash is still wine red, deeply claret, the type of color that has teeth. You think again that none but a Witcher could have survived it. You know little of wounds, but you had known it was a terrible one as soon as you’d set eyes on it, and you have never seen something so perilous lose its relentless bite so quickly.

There’s a fragile intimacy to Hadrian’s probing fingers, and you glance away. You pull Jaskier - propped up on a small stool near the bed, plucking at his lute, his wide eyes darting between the strings and the river of stark stitches winding their way across Geralt’s torso - into some of your daily chores. He protests, but it’s half-hearted.

You’ve just bundled the linens into the laundry tub when Hadrian comes outside. You’ve left Jaskier chattering at Roach as he brushes her, the horse clearly delighted by his presence.

Hadrian kneels beside you, helps you push the fabric down into the water, the cloth fading into something ethereal as it dampens, diaphanous and eerie. He hisses at the heat of it, pulling back with a curse. You laugh quietly and knead at the linens, the steaming water lapping at your wrists like waves against a shoreline. You blot your hands dry against your shift once the linens are sodden and sit back on your heels.

“What’s this?” you ask, leaning over and tugging at the ribbon wound around Hadrian’s ponytail. It slips like silk through his hair. It’s a pretty little thing, carefully embroidered, little clusters of sunshine bright calendula blossoms and bundles of sage stitched into the smooth fabric. “Are you being courted, healer?”

He brushes you away with his long, delicate fingers. “Stop that, gnat,” he says.

“I’ll consider that a yes. What’s their name?”

Hadrian ignores you, reaching past you for the washing bat. He wipes away the thin layer of dust that’s accumulated from beating out the linens before slipping it into the tub, spinning the washing around in a slow, wide circle.

“The Witcher could ride,” he says after a moment, the click of the bat against the sides of the tub a steady beat that cuts through the forest’s song. “Not far, and the wound would likely open again, but if you wish it, he does not need to stay here.”

You hum quietly, watching the wisps of steam curl into the air to fade like smoke. “All of these years and yet you know me so little, it seems.”

He sighs. “I do not mean it as a slight,” he says. “I am only offering a choice that was not there before.”

“It is no choice.”

“I suspected as much.”

He hands you the laundry bat and pushes to his feet, his lanky frame unfolding like a fan, a graceful flick of lean muscle. “I’ve left a few tins of salve inside. The way he heals is far beyond my understanding, but it is still a terrible wound, and they cannot hurt.”

“Alright.”

Hadrian studies you for a moment, pierces through you with his slate gaze, the color of the winter sea, when the whitecaps have teeth. “The forest may betray you one day,” he says.

You watch the laundry water, the swirl of fabric spectral. “Perhaps,” you say. “But not yet.”

Hadrian sighs. The sound is a forlorn winter breeze ghosting through bare branches. “Try to wait until he’s healed to fuck him.”

You laugh, the sound swelling up from somewhere deep inside. “I’ll try.”

“Where’s Jaskier?” Hadrian asks.

“Talking to the horse last I saw him,” you say, getting to your feet. “Help me with this.”

Between the two of you, it’s easy to carry the washtub to the forest’s edge. It’s the briefest taste of the wild, moss creeping high on slim tree trunks, mushrooms opening like flowers where they are nestled into the curve of roots. The last of the summer wildflowers are struggling, going crisp at the edges. The forest has little mercy.

You switch the washing to your other tub, tuck the tallow soap and washboard in with the sodden fabric.

“Do you want me to stay until you’re back?” Hadrian asks.

“No,” you say, hefting the second washtub up onto your hip as Hadrian tilts the other on its side, the water rushing out like a river, sluicing through the undergrowth and winding along networks of roots. “You can if you’d like, though. Take that back to the house.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Hadrian lilts, “right away.”

You swat at him. “Please.”

“Better,” he says, hoisting the tub up. “Be safe, gnat.”

He trots back towards your house, the ribbon in his hair fluttering behind him like a ship’s sail. You watch him for a moment more, watch the way the sun catches on his charcoal hair.

The forest sings as you step into the treeline. You weave your way across the cobwebs of roots that puncture through the thick loam, moss gleaming wet on their outstretched limbs. Sleek saplings whisper in the wind, swaying like dancers. Something chitters in the undergrowth, the sound spiraling high in agitation, a warning in a language far beyond your tongue.

Sunlight cascades through gaps in the canopy, anoints the forest floor with a golden kiss. Small flowers are speckled through the undergrowth, their blossoms turned up in worship, little faces raised to the sun. You venture deeper into the forest, the ancient trees swelling above you. They creak and groan in the wind, sleeping giants tossing in their beds.

The hair at the nape of your neck is damp with sweat. You heft the washtub higher, ignoring the moan of your muscles. You can hear the stream now, the quiet burble of it, and know it will not be long.

The glen is a sumptuous one, teeming with greenery even as autumn sets in, the ferns fat with fronds, fed by the stream’s sweet water. You kneel at the stream’s edge and get to work.

You sing to yourself as you scrub at the washing, the stream a steadfast companion. The forest murmurs around you.

You slip into the stream once the washing is done, leaving your dirty shift on the bank. The water enfolds you with icy fingers. It’s a chill bite of sensation against your sweat-slick skin, something that edges on gnawing, but it fades into something kinder. You turn your face towards the canopy and let the water flow over you like a blessing.

Something crashes in the underbrush.

You duck low in the water, scanning the edges of the glen as the rustling grows louder. Your dagger is tucked beneath your shift on the shore.

The ferns whisper in the wind, and then there is something hurtling from the undergrowth, massive and lightning quick, and as it plummets into the stream, you spit out scream that’s half curse. Just as the water surges around it, you catch sight of a familiar brindled pattern, and then the hound is on you.

“You’re the worst,” you tell Asha, shoving water at her.

She snuffles happily, ducking her muzzle beneath the water.

“Fine,” you say, “we’re going home.” You wade to the shore and put on a damp chemise, shoving your dirty one under the washboard before piling the rest of the washing in. “C’mon,” you call.

Asha trots next to you as you wind your way back through the labyrinth of the woods, through the drape of moss and the scratch of the pricker bushes.

“Should we visit?” you ask her. She pants, nudging at you to get you around a sapling. “I saw it, thank you.”

The forest opens into the cozy meadow your home is tucked into. You can see the smoke wisping out from your chimney steadily, fading into the afternoon sky. The shutters are flung wide; one of them sways in the breeze, the hinges creaking. You consider your home for a moment, and then you put down the washtub and walk back into the forest.

It is a familiar path. You think you could walk it blindfolded, twisted roots and eroding soil and sprouting trees bedamned. The ferns thicken, their fronds trailing over you like fingers, catching at your hair. You push your way through them, duck beneath their overgrown greenery, and then - they fall away.

You step into the small meadow, a little ring of wildflowers and swaying tall grass with a small copse of trees in the center. The forest prowls along the edge of it with wild roots, waiting for an opening.

The trees are humming.

It’s a slow, soft sound, rippling through you like a lullaby. It draws you near, lures you close to the copse, to the twisted trees with their wrinkled, worn bark, their branches arcing high. The soil at their roots shifts, rises and falls as if they’re breathing.

You breathe with them.

They whisper to you, their leaves tracing across your cheek, across the back of your hand, fluttering over you like fingertips. The sunlight glistens against the silver sheen of their leaves, the light draping warm over you. Things go soft at the edges, like morning mist swathing the meadow when you first rise. You murmur to the trees.

The sun begins to dip in the sky, a steady downhill march. You rise from your bed of roots, skim your fingers against a hint of moss cushioning the rough scrape of bark.

You press a farewell kiss against the trunk, against the cheekbone curve of it, and the tree croons.

It is a long, lonely walk home.

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[cluttermind]

CS Father’s Day OS - “Of Love and Fathers”

Rating: G

Summary: A very fluffy Father’s Day one shot featuring Killian’s first Father’s Day!

Read on ao3 here

//

As usual, Killian woke at the crack of dawn and was at Hope’s side the second she stirred awake. Emma was sure he spent hours watching Hope sleep, hopelessly wrapped around her finger. If it was up to Killian, he wouldn’t spend a second apart from his baby girl. He could watch her curious blue eyes take in the world around her for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

In her nightstand, Emma has Killian’s first Father’s Day card right under the gift-wrapped box containing her gift to him. She and Mary Margret had a few - okay a lot - of laughs while attempting to shop for both Killian and her dad. The thought of buying Captain Hook, the pirate captain from the enchanted forest who spent much of his life in Neverland, a set of power tools nearly killed them. Really, purchasing them for him might have resulted in Killian killing himself. David, on the other hand, had taken up a few too many DIY projects around the farm. And as cliche as it is, Emma thought she’d get him some kinda power tool set thing. Honestly, she got him exactly what he had asked for because really what did Emma and Mary Margret know about power tools other than that David used them and that sometimes (read: often) they were loud. All this to say that Killian’s gift took a much longer time to figure out. Emma’s lucky it was ready in time for today.

Once soft sounds of a fussy baby start seeping through the baby monitor, Emma hears Killian’s gentle coos. “Good morning my little love.”

Emma giggles right along with Hope. Hearing the fearsome pirate captain coo to a baby in the sweetest voice imaginable still made her laugh a little. Slipping out of bed, she grabs her robe from the closet and makes her way to her husband and their daughter. Killian is leaning over the crib, tickling Hope’s belly telling her over and over again how pretty she is while she laughs at the ridiculous faces he’s making.

-------------

Nearly a year ago Emma was feeling particularly miserable to the point that Killian, at times, wanted to stab himself with his own hook just to stop her from screaming at him for just about everything. If she wasn’t testing his patience, she was throwing up or crying which hurt him in an entirely different way.

After a particularly grueling morning, Emma took the day off from work. In the quiet solitude of an empty house, her mind was clear enough to recognize what might be going on which, of course, led to more crying. Because they hadn’t talked about this. Because she wasn’t sure they were ready. Because she wanted this so desperately. Because part of her knew that in their conversations about the future, the unspoken meaning of “we” was “us and our children.”

So she took a test. And it was positive. And it took every fiber of being to not run down to the station and shower Killian in a million and more kisses.

When Killian got home that night, Emma was waiting for him in the living room with a pale yellow gift bag which might have confused him if he wasn’t so happy to see her smiling at him.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

“Much better,” Emma said, handing him the bag. “I have a surprise for you.”

Killian kissed her cheek as he took the bag from her. He pulled out a small white onesie with a blue anchor on it and read the text out loud. “Daddy’s little sailor?” He asked. Then it hit him and his eyes met hers. “Swan are you pregnant?” Killian asked softly, his voice barely a whisper as tears pooled in his eyes.

Emma nodded. “We’re having a baby.”

Killian swept her up in his arms, careful not to hurt her with his hook, and spun her around. When her feet touched the floor again he kissed her. She could taste his tears against his lips. His hand was still clutching the small item of clothing. “We’re having a baby,” Killian repeated. “I’m going to be a Papa.”

----------

“A shilling for your thoughts, love?” Killian’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. He was cradling Hope, who was clutching Killian’s hook with her tiny hands, in his arms.

“I was just thinking about how wonderful you are with her.”

Killian grins, dipping his head to press his lips against Hope’s temple. “I never thought it was possible to love someone this much.” Hope’s wide eyes watch the way the morning sunshine dances on the shiny silver of Killian’s hook that now dons a rubber pink protector to keep Hope from hurting herself on the end of it.

Emma wraps her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against the back of his shoulder. “Happy Father’s Day, Killian.”

Killian is genuinely confused. “Happy what?”

“Father’s Day.”

“Are you making up holidays now, Swan?”

Emma released him from her arms and moved to step in front of him to figure out if he’s joking with her or not. He’s not. “Have you never heard of Father’s Day?”

“No.” Killian sighs. “I never had a father worth celebrating.”

Emma tries to remember celebrating in years past but the first few Father’s Days here she spent alone with Mary Margret and David and when Killian came into her life he’d cover for them at the station so they can spend the day together. This time, a new deputy was covering so that Killian could enjoy the day as well.

“Well,” Emma starts, “remember when we celebrated Mother’s Day? This day is yours, babe. You’re a wonderful father and we love you so much.” Emma turns to Hope, tickling her belly. “Isn’t that right Hope? We love Daddy very much.” Hope giggles in response, causing Killian to smile.

“Daddy loves you too my little starfish.”

Emma kisses him softly. “We’re heading to my parents for a barbecue around 3 but the whole morning is yours. We can do whatever you want.”

Killian raises an eyebrow at her. “Whatever I want?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Aye, Captain.”

He looks at Hope. “Want to spend the morning on the Jolly, little starfish?”

They spend the morning on the Jolly, enjoying some brunch and the sea breeze while the ship remained docked. They walk Hope around the whole ship as Killian talks incessantly about the ship and his adventures and Emma listens, enraptured as always by the way Killian tells a story (even ones she’s heard multiple times). He’s a real-life storybook character albeit with a more indecent past with the women he’s seduced and the people he’s killed and stolen from. She finds it amusing how he skips over those parts when he’s talking to Hope.

Truthfully, Killian’s biggest fear is still what Hope will think of him when she finds out. It’s impossible to hide his past when it’s written in Henry’s storybook. As many times as Emma reassures him that Hope will love him not matter what because he’s her daddy and she’s his starfish and he is absolutely brilliant with her, Emma knows this fear will be something he lives with for a long time.

Time flies as Killian recounts his adventures and soon it’s time to head over to see her parents. Henry, Robin, Regina and Roland beat them there and Henry and Roland are already sparring with David by the time they park the car. Mary Margret fawns over Hope, complaining that she doesn’t get to spend enough time with her beautiful grandbaby and Killian nearly frowns when she’s no longer in his arms. Robin greets Killian with a clap on the back

“I think it’s time for presents!” Mary Margret squeals after they have dinner on the back deck. Henry leaves with her to grab everything. Somehow the two of them manage to carry everything to the table and both David and Killian blush furiously.

“Mine first!” Henry says, handing David a large wrapped box. Inside was a new saddle blanket for David’s horse in Northeastern University red and white. After a bear hug from his grandfather, Henry handed Hook a red gift bag. “Happy Father’s Day, Hook.”

It took Killian a second to process what was happening. He would’ve cried if he didn’t have a reputation to maintain. “Thank you, mate.” Inside was a dark grey t-shirt with white and gold lettering that read “Northeastern Dad.” Pulling the shirt out of the bag and reading what it said, pushed Killian over the edge, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye. He quickly stood and pulled Henry into a tight embrace. “Thank you.”

“Mom got a Northeastern Mom one when we were moving in. I thought it was time you had a matching one. Now you can both look equally embarrassing when you’re moving me in in August.”

Killian chuckled. “Don’t give her any -”

“That’s a BRILLIANT idea!” Emma squealed.

“Ideas.” Killian sighed as he finished his sentence, still smiling brightly at the family he now had, the family he had always wanted but never believed he deserved.

“Okay okay. It’s my turn.” Emma said. David opened the set of power tool things and proceeded to explain what he would use each tool and feature for. Finally, it was time for Emma to give Killian his gift. It was a small wrapped box, only slightly larger than the size of Killian’s hand. In the box is a pocket sundial. Since Killian refuses to wear a watch, Emma thought this would suit him more. It’s solid brass and with his name engraved on the outside and a photo of him and Hope from the first time they took her to the Jolly on the inside. “Happy Father’s Day, babe.” Killian looked up from the sundial to see Emma holding their daughter. His heart was suddenly filled with more love than he ever believed was possible for one man to feel.

Robin rested his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “Happy Father’s Day, mate. Isn’t it the best feeling in the world?”

Killian grinned at his friend. “Aye. Happy Father’s Day.”

Roland gave Robin a handmade card, which was quite possibly the most adorable thing in the world, and a new set of arrows that were hand painted fun colors (which were clearly a joint effort between Regina and Roland).

Mary Margret, as a joke, had t-shirts that said “Hot Dads of Storybrooke Crew” on them made for  David, Robin, and Killian which elicited howls of laughter from all three of them when they opened them at the same time. Their last names were on the back, like a jersey, and their numbers reflected the order in which they became fathers - Nolan 01, Locksley 02, Jones 03. The rest of them roll their eyes at the men’s now even more inflated egos. Seconds after opening them, the “Hot Dads of Storybrooke Crew” plans to wear them together at Roland’s next soccer match. Town summer soccer matches turn into mini festivals with all different food being sold for fundraisers, music and dancing for the kids, and adult beverages for the parents.

Hope was fast asleep on the drive home and Emma was barely awake herself while Killian drove. He put Hope to sleep while Emma showered and got ready for bed. She read a bit of a book Killian had recommended to her while he did the same afterwards before climbing into bed.

“Emma?” Killian asks, rolling on his side to face her.

She knows by the look in his eyes that this is moving in a more serious direction. Killian clearly has something on his mind. Emma sets the book down and turns on her side to face him “What’s on your mind, Jones?”

Killian's hand rests on her hip. “I uhm -”

Not often does Killian get flustered, but now he was blushing furiously. “Talk to me, babe.” Emma cups his cheek, her thumb stroking soothingly.

“Have you thought about having another baby?” Killian whispers.

“Maybe.” Emma grins. “Have you?”

“Aye.” Killian returns her smile.

“And do you want another baby?”

Killian kisses her softly. “Aye, love.”

“Me too.” Emma rests her forehead against Killian’s. “Watching you with Hope has been the most incredible thing in the world, Killian. I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you, too. Always. To the end of the earth and time.”

#cs ff #cs fanfic #CS fic #Captain swan #killian jones #captain hook #emma swan #baby hope #of love and fathers