#her rage looms in her mind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

novaursa · 3 months ago

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Fire and Blood (reader's choice)

- Summary: For as long as Maegor could remember, you were denied to him by others. By his own father, by his half-brother, by the gods themselves. They saddled him off with a barren bride and locked you away on Dragonstone. And once Aenys died and Maegor has returned from exile to take the crown, he also takes you, as was his right. But before the wedding could happen, you disappear. You never arrive at the capital with your royal procession. And Maegor tears the realm apart.

- Paring: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

The air was heavy with the heat of the afternoon sun, and the sky above King's Landing was an expanse of pale blue. The waters of Blackwater Bay sparkled under the light, and the wind carried the scent of salt and stone, mingling with the hum of the city behind. The Red Keep loomed in the background, a skeletal structure still rising from the hill, its walls unfinished, its towers yet to scrape the heavens as Maegor intended. The clatter of hammers and the creak of scaffolding were distant echoes, reminders of the power he was building, brick by brick.

But today, all of that faded into insignificance. Maegor Targaryen stood with his mother, Visenya, the only one who had ever stood by him. His bannermen, royal retainers, and lords stood at a respectful distance, their whispers nothing but gnats in his ears as he stared out at the empty horizon. You were supposed to arrive today, your royal procession expected any moment, the ships that carried you from Dragonstone cutting across the bay.

You. His bride. His blood. His right.

His gloved hands tightened around the pommel of Blackfyre, the ancient sword of his house, as his mind drifted, despite himself, back to all the times you had been denied to him.

His father, King Aegon the Conqueror, had made the first refusal. Maegor had been young then, but old enough to know what he wanted. You were young too, of course, but even then, Maegor saw the fire in your eyes, the way the blood of Old Valyria ran through you. You were his match in every way. He had stood before his father, demanding you be betrothed to him.

"It is not your place to demand, Maegor," Aegon had said, his voice calm, but his eyes cold. "Your brother's daughter is not for you. Aenys' children will be wed to strengthen the realm, not to satisfy your desires."

It was the first time Maegor had felt the sting of denial, but it would not be the last.

His half-brother, Aenys, had been no better. When he became king after Aegon’s death, Maegor thought surely now, with the crown on his brother’s head, he could finally claim what was his. You had grown by then, blooming into a woman with the beauty and strength of their ancestors. Maegor had approached Aenys, who sat upon the Iron Throne, looking every inch the weak ruler he was.

"You will not have her," Aenys had said, shaking his head. "She is promised elsewhere."

"To whom?" Maegor had demanded, his voice laced with barely contained rage. "Who could be more worthy of her than I, her blood and kin?"

"A match will be made in time, but not to you, brother," Aenys had answered, his tone patronizing. "I have other plans for her."

Other plans. The words still tasted bitter on Maegor’s tongue, as though they had been spoken only yesterday.

He had begged. Yes, even he, Maegor the Cruel, had begged. But only to one person. His mother, Visenya. The warrior queen, the woman who had conquered Westeros by Aegon’s side. The only person who had ever truly understood him.

"I will not be denied her," he had told Visenya, pacing the halls of Dragonstone in frustration. "Father, Aenys, the gods themselves conspire against me. They will not give her to me."

Visenya, regal and fierce, had looked at him with those sharp, violet eyes of hers, the eyes of a dragon, and she had smiled—a cold, knowing smile. "They fear you, my son," she had said. "They fear the strength of your blood. Aenys and his ilk think they can control you by keeping her from you, but they are fools. They do not see what I see."

"And what do you see, Mother?" Maegor had asked, desperate for the answer he knew only she could give.

"I see the future of our house," she had answered, stepping close to him, resting a hand on his armored shoulder. "And I see you at its head, with her at your side. The dragons of Old Valyria will rise again, Maegor. And no one—no one—will deny you what is yours."

Her words had kept him sane through the years of exile, through his marriage to Ceryse Hightower, a woman who had proven barren, and a marriage that had been nothing but a chain around his neck. All the while, he had thought of you. You, locked away on Dragonstone, hidden from him by his enemies, the gods, the world. But now, none of that mattered. Aenys was dead, the throne was his, and soon, you would be too.

And yet... the ships did not come.

The sun was sinking lower, casting ghastly shadows over the unfinished Red Keep, over the city of King's Landing, over the assembled lords and banners. Maegor’s patience was wearing thin, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface like wildfire ready to consume all in its path.

"They are late," he growled, his voice low, but his anger clear. "Where are they?"

Visenya stood beside him, silent and still as ever. Her presence was the only thing that soothed him, that kept him from mounting Balerion and flying to Dragonstone himself. But even her patience had its limits, and he could see the tightness in her jaw, the tension in her shoulders. She felt the delay, the insult, as keenly as he did.

"They will come," she said, though there was a note of uncertainty in her voice that Maegor did not like.

And what if they did not? What if something had happened? What if your brother, Aegon, or even that fool Rhaena, had interfered, whisked you away before you could reach him? The thought sent a surge of fury through him, and he gripped Blackfyre tighter, his knuckles turning white beneath his gloves.

"No one will keep her from me," he said, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Not this time."

Visenya turned to him, her sharp gaze cutting through his anger. "If they try," she said, her voice cold and final, "then we will burn them all."

Maegor’s heart beat with the promise of fire and blood. They had all denied him for so long. His father. His brother. The gods themselves. But he was king now, and no one could deny the King of the Iron Throne.

You would be his, one way or another. The realm would tremble at his wrath if you were not.

But still, the horizon remained empty.

Maegor’s patience shattered like glass underfoot. The stillness of the harbor, the absence of the royal procession, and the delay that felt like a deliberate insult boiled within him until he could bear it no longer. His fury was a living thing, a fire in his chest that demanded release.

Without a word to anyone, Maegor turned sharply on his heel and stalked away from the gathered lords and his waiting bannermen. Visenya's gaze followed him, but she did not call him back. She knew what was coming, and she would not try to stop him. No one would.

He marched through the half-constructed Red Keep, past the workers who hastily moved out of his way, their eyes wide with fear at the sight of him. His blood thundered in his veins, his mind consumed by a singular thought: you. You were not here. Someone had kept you from him again, and he would have answers. One way or another, he would have answers.

Balerion waited for him, the great black beast shifting restlessly as though sensing the storm of rage within his rider. Maegor did not hesitate. He approached the dragon without a word, his dark cloak billowing behind him as he climbed onto Balerion’s back. The dragon’s scales were hot beneath his hands, and the air filled with the smell of smoke and brimstone as Balerion opened his massive jaws, letting out a low growl that reverberated through the air.

"To Dragonstone," Maegor commanded, his voice sharp and cold as steel.

With a mighty beat of his wings, Balerion launched into the air, and the city of King’s Landing fell away beneath them. The wind roared in Maegor’s ears as they ascended, higher and higher, until the Red Keep and the harbor were nothing but distant specks below. His eyes narrowed against the rush of air as they flew toward Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, a place that should have been your prison but was now the key to your disappearance.

The journey was swift. Balerion’s immense wings cut through the sky, and soon, the looming shape of Dragonstone appeared on the horizon, its dark, foreboding towers rising from the volcanic island like jagged teeth. The familiar silhouette of the castle did nothing to soothe Maegor’s fury. If anything, it fueled it. Whoever had dared to take you from him was hiding here, he was certain of it. And they would pay.

Balerion descended with a roar, his massive form casting a shadow over the castle courtyard as he landed with a thunderous crash. Maegor dismounted swiftly, his boots hitting the ground with purpose, and strode toward the keep without hesitation. The guards, clad in the black and red of House Targaryen, scrambled to stand at attention, but Maegor paid them no mind. His eyes were fixed on one figure—Alyssa Velaryon, Dowager Queen, widow of his late half-brother Aenys.

She stood at the entrance of the great hall, flanked by her own royal guards, her expression calm but her eyes wary. She had been expecting him.

"Where is she?" Maegor’s voice was thunder, echoing across the courtyard as he approached. His gaze was locked on Alyssa, his hands still resting on the hilt of Blackfyre at his side.

Alyssa’s lips thinned, but she did not answer immediately. Her silence was an insult in itself.

"Where is she?" Maegor demanded again, his tone darkening, his patience long gone. "The ships have not arrived. My bride is not here. Where is she?"

Alyssa lifted her chin, her eyes meeting his with a quiet defiance. "I do not know," she said, her voice steady, though her guards shifted uneasily around her. "She is not here, Maegor. I swear it on the blood of my children."

His anger flared like a flame doused in oil. He stepped closer, towering over her, his eyes burning with rage. "You lie. Do you think me a fool, Alyssa? Do you think I will believe your false words? You know where she is. Someone here knows."

Alyssa did not waver, though there was a flicker of fear behind her eyes. "I do not lie, Maegor," she said, her voice firm. "Your niece is gone, but I do not know where. You think you can demand answers, but the gods have taken her from you."

"The gods?" Maegor spat the word as if it were poison. "The gods have no power here. I am king. I am the only god that matters in this realm."

He drew Blackfyre from its scabbard with a vicious hiss of steel. The sight of the ancient Valyrian blade, its edge gleaming in the waning sunlight, caused Alyssa’s guards to stiffen, their hands moving to the hilts of their swords. But Maegor did not care. He had faced armies and dragons alike; these men would not stand against him.

"You will tell me where she is," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Or I will take this castle stone by stone and burn it to the ground. I will burn you all."

Alyssa stood her ground, but her defiance was waning. Still, she did not answer.

Maegor’s grip on Blackfyre tightened. "Very well," he said, his voice cold and final. "If you will not speak, then I declare war on you, on this entire realm, and on the gods themselves. I will rip the truth from your dying lips if I must."

He raised the sword high, and Balerion let out a deafening roar, his fiery breath licking at the sky, as if in answer to his rider’s fury. The ground beneath Maegor’s feet trembled as the beast’s wings unfurled, casting the courtyard into shadow once more.

"Do you hear me, Alyssa?" Maegor shouted, his voice carrying across the castle walls. "I will bring fire and blood to this land until she is returned to me. Every house, every banner, every village will burn. No one will be spared."

Alyssa’s face paled, but she held her tongue, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his rage.

With one final, furious look at her, Maegor turned and mounted Balerion once more. The dragon’s wings beat against the air as they took to the skies, leaving the castle of Dragonstone behind, but not forgotten.

War was coming. The realm would know the full wrath of Maegor Targaryen, and nothing would stand in his way.

Not even the gods.

The sky had darkened with storm clouds, a fitting shroud for what was to come. Maegor could feel the death in the air as Balerion, the Black Dread, flew low over the countryside, the sound of his massive wings beating like the drums of war. Beneath him, the land stretched out in peaceful ignorance—green fields, small villages, and the occasional hamlet, all unaware of the doom that was about to descend upon them.

His fury had not abated. If anything, it had grown, simmering inside him like the flames that Balerion carried in his belly. For days, he had waited—waited for some word, some message, some whisper of where you had been taken. But there had been none. Not from Dragonstone, not from King's Landing, not from any corner of the realm. Silence. It was as if the earth itself conspired to keep you hidden from him.

And so, Maegor had decided to speak in the only language he knew would reach them all—fire.

The town below was small, insignificant in the grand scheme of his rule. It had no great lords, no strategic importance. It was nothing more than a farming village, its people simple, its streets quiet. But that did not matter to Maegor. He was no longer a king seeking strategy. He was a dragon in search of blood.

Balerion let out a growl as they descended, and the townspeople, who had begun to gather in the streets, looked up with wide, terrified eyes. They had heard tales of dragons, but few had seen one in the flesh, let alone the Black Dread himself. Some screamed, others fled, scattering like ants before a boot.

But it was too late.

Maegor did not speak as they approached. He did not announce his arrival or give them time to prepare. His rage did not allow for such mercy. Instead, he gave the only command he had come to deliver.

"Dracarys."

Balerion unleashed his fury with a deafening roar. Flames erupted from his jaws, a torrent of fire that engulfed the first row of houses in an instant. The wooden structures went up like kindling, the dry summer heat making them burn even faster. Screams filled the air, high-pitched and desperate, as people fled their homes, only to be caught by the flames that licked at their heels.

The fire spread with terrifying speed, consuming everything in its path—roofs, walls, fields. The village was alight, a beacon of destruction visible for miles around.

Maegor watched from above, his face cold and impassive, his grip on Balerion’s reins tight as the dragon circled over the burning town. The people below looked so small, like insects scurrying for cover, trying to escape the inevitable. But there was no escape. Not for them.

A handful of soldiers, likely from a nearby lord's keep, arrived, rushing into the chaos with spears and shields. They might have hoped to protect their people, to fight off the monster in the sky, but it was a hopeless effort. Balerion roared again, and another wave of fire descended, swallowing the soldiers in flames before they could even raise their weapons.

Still, Maegor felt nothing. No satisfaction, no relief, just the same gnawing fury. This town was but the first of many. If no one would give him what he demanded, then they would all burn.

Balerion landed in the town square, his massive form crushing the few remaining carts and stalls beneath him. The fires crackled and raged around them, the air thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Maegor dismounted, his black armor gleaming with the reflection of the flames, and strode through the smoldering ruins. The people who hadn’t already fled or died in the fire cowered at the edges of the square, their faces streaked with soot and tears, their eyes wide with terror.

One man—a farmer by the looks of him, his face blackened with ash—dared to stand before Maegor. His legs shook, and his hands trembled as he held out a crude pitchfork, a pitiful weapon against the man who wielded Blackfyre.

“Please!” the man cried, his voice cracking. “We’ve done nothing! We don’t know where she is!”

Maegor’s gaze fixed on him, cold and unfeeling. “Then you are of no use to me.”

With a swift motion, he drew Blackfyre and swung. The blade cut through the air with a whistle, and the man’s head rolled to the ground, his body collapsing like a puppet with its strings severed. Blood pooled at Maegor’s feet, mixing with the ash and dirt.

He turned to the remaining villagers, their tear-filled eyes pleading for mercy. “Where is she?” Maegor demanded, his voice cutting through the crackling flames. “Tell me, and you will be spared.”

But there were no answers. Only silence, punctuated by the occasional sob or gasp. They knew nothing, and he could see the truth of it in their frightened, helpless faces. These people had never laid eyes on you. They did not know your name. They were caught in a storm that was not theirs, a storm they could not hope to survive.

“Then burn,” Maegor said, his voice flat, his heart devoid of pity.

Balerion roared once more, and fire swept across the square, swallowing the villagers where they stood. The screams of the innocent echoed in the night, but they were distant to Maegor, drowned out by the roar of the flames. He mounted Balerion again, his mind already turning to the next town, the next village. There would be no end to his wrath until you were returned to him.

As they lifted into the air, the once-quiet town was a sea of fire below, the smoke rising in dark plumes that would be visible for miles. The next town would see the flames and know what was coming. They would know the price of silence.

But as they flew over the burning ruins, a grim thought gnawed at Maegor’s mind: even this, even the screams of the dying, had not brought forth any word of you. No ravens, no messengers, no spies. It was as if you had vanished from the face of the earth.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes hard as stone as he looked out over the darkened horizon. Let them hide you. Let them try to keep you from him. He would burn every inch of this realm to ash until they had no choice but to deliver you back into his hands.

War had come, and the realm would know the full measure of his wrath before it was over.

And still, you remained lost to him, as distant and unreachable as ever.

The halls of Oldtown’s grand keep were filled with the scent of burning torches and incense, the air heavy with the weight of old stone and old gods alike. Maegor strode through the corridors, his armor clinking with each step, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. The lords of the Reach had gathered in the great hall ahead, awaiting his arrival, their banners lining the walls like silent witnesses to the war he was bringing to their doors.

He would have their armies. He would have their swords and their oaths. And soon, the realm would bleed for keeping you from him.

Yet, as he approached the towering doors of the hall, he was intercepted by a voice that grated on his already thin patience.

“Maegor.”

He halted but did not turn immediately. He recognized the voice, the cold, haughty tone that had once filled his ears with promises of alliances and power. Ceryse Hightower, his wife—the woman the Faith of the Seven deemed his lawful bride. The one who had failed him, who had borne him no heirs, no strength. She was a chain, an anchor from a life he despised. And now, she stood between him and the destruction he sought to bring upon the world.

With a slow turn, he faced her. She stood in the narrow corridor, her expression as cold as the marble pillars that flanked her. Her gown was white and gold, as befit a woman of her station, but there was no warmth in her. She had never had any warmth for him, nor he for her.

Ceryse’s eyes narrowed as she stepped closer, her chin lifted in defiance. "This madness must stop, Maegor. What you are doing—it is unholy. This war you wage for your niece, this obsession, it will bring the gods’ wrath upon you. Upon us all."

Maegor’s eyes, dark and brooding, bore into hers. "The gods?" he scoffed, his voice laced with venom. "Which gods, Ceryse? The Seven who gave me nothing but a barren wife? The gods who have denied me my rightful bride and my throne time and again? They are nothing to me. I am the king, and I will take what is mine."

"You are the king," she snapped, stepping closer, her voice rising, "but I am your wife. The only true wife you have before the gods. I was wed to you under the light of the Seven. I am your queen, not some girl you lust after because she shares your blood and your fire."

Maegor’s lips curled into a sneer. "Do not speak of things you do not understand. She is more than fire. She is mine by right, by blood, by destiny. You are nothing but a symbol of a failed marriage and the weakness of the Faith. Your gods mean nothing to me, Ceryse. They have never meant anything."

Ceryse’s face flushed with anger, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “The Faith is all that holds this realm together. The Seven bless our rule, and you spit on their favor. Do you truly believe this war you’ve started will end with your niece in your arms? The realm will turn against you, the Faith will rise—”

“The Faith?” Maegor’s laughter was dark, a cruel sound that echoed off the stone walls. “The Faith cowers beneath the strength of dragons. I have already broken their High Septon, and I will do it again if they dare stand in my way. Do not speak to me of the Faith when they have already bled under my blade.”

Her eyes flashed with fury. “And what of me? Do I mean nothing to you, Maegor? I am your queen. I stood beside you when the world was against you, when you were exiled, when you returned to take the throne. I have endured your temper, your ambitions—everything. And yet you throw it all away for her, for a girl who should never have been yours.”

Maegor stepped closer, towering over her, his voice low and filled with menace. “You have never stood beside me, Ceryse. You have stood in my way, like all the others. The day you failed to give me an heir was the day your use to me ended. You are not my queen. You are a symbol of weakness and failure.”

Her breath caught in her throat, but her pride would not allow her to shrink before him. She held her ground, her chin raised defiantly. “This war is blasphemy. Even your late father would not stand for it. You break every sacred vow for this—this madness. And for what? For a girl who may be dead already, taken by the gods to punish your arrogance.”

Maegor’s hand shot out, gripping her throat, though not enough to truly harm her. His eyes were burning coals, his patience long gone. “Speak of her again,” he growled, his voice dangerously low, “and I will end you here and now, wife or not.”

Ceryse’s eyes widened, but she did not flinch, even with his hand at her throat. “Do it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady. “Do it, and see how the realm turns against you. They already whisper of your cruelty, your madness. Kill your wife, and you will become the monster they fear.”

For a long, tense moment, Maegor said nothing. His grip tightened slightly, the temptation strong, but he released her with a shove, sending her stumbling back a step.

"You are a fool if you think I care for their whispers," Maegor said, his voice filled with disdain. "I will rule through fear if I must. The realm will submit to me, whether they love me or hate me. And you will stay out of my way, or you will burn like the rest of them."

Ceryse straightened, her hand to her throat, her eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and fear. She had pushed him as far as she could, and she knew it.

“You will destroy yourself,” she said quietly, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to hide it. “This war, this rage... it will consume you.”

Maegor turned his back on her, his cloak swirling in the dim torchlight as he moved toward the doors of the great hall. "Then let it," he said coldly, without looking back. "I would rather burn the world to ash than live in a world where I am denied what is mine."

The heavy doors of the great hall swung open before him, and Maegor strode inside, leaving Ceryse standing alone in the darkened corridor, her hands shaking, her heart pounding with a fear she had never known before.

The lords inside turned as one to face him, their faces pale with the knowledge of the man they served. Maegor took his place at the head of the long table, his eyes sweeping over the gathered men like a predator surveying its prey.

"You will gather your armies," he said, his voice echoing through the hall, "and you will march with me to war. I care not for the gods, nor for the Faith. Those who stand against me will burn, and those who submit will live. But I will have my bride, or I will see this realm consumed by fire."

The lords exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared defy him. They knew the price of disobedience under Maegor’s rule.

"Are there any who would challenge me?" Maegor demanded, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light.

Silence fell over the hall, thick and suffocating. Not a single voice rose in opposition.

"Good," Maegor said, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Prepare your men. The realm will bleed until she is mine again."

And with that, the great hall of Oldtown descended into preparation for war, while outside, Ceryse Hightower stood in the shadows, her heart heavy with the knowledge that her words had fallen on deaf ears.

The battlefield stretched wide before Maegor, a patchwork of torn earth, trampled grass, and bloodied banners. His army stood in sharp contrast to the smaller force across the field, led by his nephew, Aegon the Uncrowned. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a bloody hue over the land, as if the gods themselves had abandoned all hope of peace.

Balerion, the Black Dread, shifted beneath him, his great black wings stretching wide as the dragon growled, sensing the impending battle. Maegor’s grip tightened on Blackfyre, the weight of the ancient sword familiar in his hand as he surveyed the field below. The banners of House Targaryen and Velaryon fluttered in the wind, a cruel mockery of what should have been unity between their blood. But unity had long been shattered.

On the opposite side of the field, Aegon sat astride Quicksilver, his dragon a flash of silver-white scales that shimmered in the dying light. Aegon’s army was smaller, but it was fiercely loyal—men who believed in the legitimacy of his claim, men who called Maegor a usurper and a tyrant. Men who were willing to die for a boy who had been denied his crown.

Maegor’s jaw clenched as he gazed across the field at his nephew, the boy who had dared to raise arms against him. Aegon had your blood running through his veins, and that alone made Maegor’s rage burn hotter. But it was not just Aegon’s challenge to the throne that stoked Maegor’s fury—it was his insolent defiance in keeping you from him.

The armies stood still for a breath, the wind carrying the sound of clinking armor and the distant neighs of restless horses. Maegor’s soldiers waited, their faces grim, their hands tight on their weapons. His bannermen were eager for the bloodshed to begin, eager to crush the boy who dared challenge their king.

But Maegor had eyes only for Aegon, who met his gaze across the field with the same cold intensity. Even from a distance, Maegor could see the steely resolve in the young man’s face. Aegon was no longer the boy he had once dismissed, and that truth gnawed at him.

Without a word, Maegor spurred Balerion forward. The great dragon let out a thunderous roar, his massive wings lifting him from the ground in one powerful sweep. The air around them seemed to hum with tension as Balerion soared into the sky, circling high above the battlefield, casting an enormous shadow over the armies below.

Aegon wasted no time. With a sharp command, he urged Quicksilver into the air, the silver dragon shooting upward with graceful speed. The two beasts circled one another in the sky, the gathered armies below looking up in awe as dragon met dragon.

Maegor’s eyes locked onto Aegon, his blood boiling with the need for victory. He would crush this boy, as he had crushed all who had stood in his way. Blackfyre was already in his hand, the sword gleaming as he prepared to strike.

Quicksilver let out a high-pitched roar and dove toward Balerion, claws outstretched. Aegon, no doubt thinking speed would be his advantage, urged his dragon forward with a deadly precision. But Balerion was no ordinary dragon—he was the Black Dread, the most fearsome of all Targaryen dragons, and his size alone was enough to instill terror in any opponent.

With a bellowing roar, Balerion met Quicksilver head-on, jaws snapping as the two dragons collided in a flurry of wings, fire, and claws. The sky around them lit up with dragonflame, bright orange and yellow in the fading light. The sound of their clash echoed across the battlefield like thunder, and Maegor felt the familiar thrill of battle pulse through his veins.

Aegon swung his sword at him, their blades clashing as Quicksilver veered away, trying to outmaneuver Balerion. But Maegor was relentless. He urged Balerion onward, following the silver dragon, breathing down its neck with every beat of its wings. Aegon was skilled, but Maegor could see the hesitation in his strikes, the uncertainty in his eyes.

"You will never have her, Uncle!" Aegon shouted over the roar of the wind and the battle below, his voice laced with both fury and desperation. "She is free of you! The gods will never let her fall into your hands."

Maegor’s face twisted into a snarl, his fury consuming him as he swung Blackfyre toward Aegon with all the strength he could muster. Their blades met again, the force of the strike sending sparks flying between them. "The gods be damned!" Maegor roared. "You think they care for your claims, boy? I will have her, and no man or god will keep her from me!"

Aegon’s lips curled into a bitter smile, his eyes flashing with defiance. "You’re a fool if you think she would come to you willingly," he spat. "She despises you. She will never be yours."

Maegor’s rage flared hotter than dragonfire. He urged Balerion forward, closing the distance between the two dragons, but Quicksilver darted away, its speed giving it the advantage. Maegor’s strikes were powerful, but Aegon’s precision allowed him to evade, always one step ahead, always just out of reach.

Below, the armies had clashed. The sounds of battle—clanging steel, screams, and the thunder of hooves—rose from the ground, but Maegor cared little for what happened below. His focus was entirely on Aegon, on the boy who had denied him his rightful bride, on the nephew who dared to defy him.

Suddenly, Quicksilver darted upward, high into the clouds, and Aegon disappeared from sight. Maegor cursed, pulling Balerion up after them, but by the time he broke through the clouds, Aegon and Quicksilver were gone.

A howl of frustration escaped Maegor’s throat. He scanned the skies, his eyes searching for any sign of the silver dragon, but Aegon had vanished, leaving nothing but the roar of the wind and the distant sounds of the battlefield below.

"Damn you, Aegon!" Maegor bellowed into the empty sky, his voice echoing across the heavens. His blood boiled with fury, his vision clouded with rage. Once again, Aegon had slipped through his fingers, just as you had been denied to him time and time again.

He descended with Balerion, landing amidst the chaos of the battlefield, his soldiers still locked in fierce combat with Aegon’s forces. But it was not enough. The battle, the bloodshed, the cries of dying men—all of it paled in comparison to the rage burning inside Maegor. He had come for victory, for vengeance, for you—and he had been denied once more.

The soldiers around him fell to their knees, their faces streaked with blood and mud, their eyes filled with terror at the sight of their king. But Maegor’s gaze was distant, his thoughts consumed by the promise Aegon had made before vanishing into the clouds.

You were free of him, Aegon had said. You would never be his.

But Maegor was not a man who accepted defeat. Not now. Not ever.

The realm would continue to burn until you were in his hands, and not even his nephew’s empty threats would change that.

With a final, chilling glance at the battlefield around him, Maegor mounted Balerion once more, his mind already racing with thoughts of what was to come. The war was not over. Aegon may have escaped, but Maegor would hunt him down. He would tear the realm apart, piece by piece, until there was nowhere left for his enemies to hide.

And in the end, you would be his.

Whether you wished it or not.

The second clash between Maegor Targaryen and his nephew, Aegon the Uncrowned, was inevitable. The gods had no place on this battlefield; only dragons, fire, and blood would decide the victor. Beneath the clouded skies of the God's Eye, the two riders faced one another atop their colossal beasts. Quicksilver, the pale silver dragon, hovered in the air with Aegon astride him, eyes blazing with defiance, while Maegor sat atop the mighty Balerion, the Black Dread, a shadow over the land, a force of destruction waiting to be unleashed.

Aegon was no child, but neither was he the match of his uncle. And yet, as they circled high above the waters of the God's Eye, you could almost feel the weight of his resolve. Maegor could sense it, too—a determination to stand, to fight, to protect what little remained of his claim. But Aegon was a fool to believe he could stop what was coming. Maegor had returned, stronger than ever, and no man, no dragon, no usurper would deny him what was his—neither the throne nor you.

The dragons roared and circled, Balerion’s immense shadow darkening the sky. Maegor’s heart was black with fury, the rage of the denied, of one betrayed by his own kin. For years, he had been denied you, stolen from him by a weak brother and a cowardly nephew. Aenys had never been strong enough to hold the kingdom together, nor had he the will to make the hard choices. Now Maegor would show Aegon the price of such weakness.

“Tell me where she is,” Maegor bellowed, his voice a force of its own, carrying across the winds between them. “Tell me, and I’ll make your death quick.”

Aegon’s expression hardened, but his lips remained sealed. He said nothing, his jaw tight, the defiance in his eyes unbroken. It was clear that he would rather die than betray your whereabouts, and for a brief moment, Maegor almost admired the boy's stubbornness. Almost.

But that would not save him.

Quicksilver lunged first, his bright scales gleaming like molten metal in the dim light. His teeth snapped, his wings beat the air, and Aegon drove him forward, spear in hand, hoping to catch Balerion’s flank. But Balerion was no ordinary dragon, and Maegor was no ordinary rider. The Black Dread twisted mid-air with terrifying speed, jaws snapping shut around Quicksilver’s wing. The smaller dragon shrieked, a sound that echoed over the lake like thunder, and his body faltered as he was dragged downward, closer to the earth.

Balerion's fire erupted, black and red flames that swallowed the sky. Quicksilver was engulfed, his silvery scales turning black as smoke and ash filled the air. Aegon fought back, his dragon resisting, but it was clear to all who watched that there could only be one outcome.

With a final, sickening crunch, Balerion’s teeth sank into Quicksilver’s neck, tearing through flesh and bone. The dragon screamed, a high-pitched, agonizing cry that seemed to go on forever. And then, with a sickening crash, Quicksilver and Aegon were flung into the earth below, the ground trembling from the impact.

Maegor descended slowly, his eyes never leaving the crumpled form of his nephew. The once-proud Aegon, Uncrowned and unbroken, now lay battered and broken beside his dying dragon. Maegor dismounted, stepping down from Balerion’s back as if descending from a throne. The grass beneath his feet was scorched from the battle, and the air smelled of death and fire.

Aegon coughed, his body shattered, blood pouring from wounds too numerous to count. His breaths were labored, each one a struggle. Maegor stood over him, the weight of his fury and triumph heavy in the air.

“Where is she?” Maegor demanded once more, his voice like steel.

Aegon lifted his head weakly, his eyes meeting Maegor's with the last of his strength. Blood bubbled on his lips as he smiled—a bitter, bloody smile.

“You’ll never find her,” Aegon rasped, defiance even now.

The anger that surged through Maegor was all-consuming, a wildfire burning through his veins. He had half a mind to rip his nephew’s head from his body then and there, but he knew Aegon would welcome such an end. No, his death would come soon enough. But it would not be swift, nor merciful.

With a final look of disgust, Maegor turned his back on the dying boy, mounting Balerion once more. There was no more time to waste on the Uncrowned. He would find you, with or without Aegon’s cooperation. And when he did, nothing and no one would ever separate you from him again.

After the battle, as Maegor's forces regrouped, a rider approached him. The man, bloodied and worn from the fight, bowed low before his king.

“My lord, we have received word,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “It is said... she is being held in Lys.”

Maegor’s eyes narrowed, his blood roaring in his ears. Lys. So far away, beyond the sea, beyond his immediate reach. But no distance was too great. He would cross oceans, burn cities, and tear apart entire kingdoms if need be.

“Prepare the fleet,” Maegor ordered, his voice like iron. “We sail at once.”

Balerion let out a low rumble, as if sensing his master’s intent. There would be no peace until you were his, no rest until the blood debt was paid in full. The dragons were coming, and all of Lys would burn if it meant bringing you home.

The sun had long begun its descent when the black sails of Maegor's fleet appeared on the horizon, darkening the waters that surrounded Lys. The city, gilded with beauty and wealth, stood as a gleaming jewel in the far east. But to Maegor, it was a den of thieves—those who had dared to steal what belonged to him. As Balerion descended from the skies, casting a vast shadow over the city, panic spread like wildfire through its streets. The people of Lys had never seen the likes of such a beast, nor the wrath of a king who had come to reclaim what was his.

You had not expected him so soon.

The small tower in which you were held offered little more than a view of the sea and distant freedom, but you knew that no bars or walls could hold you forever. You had seen the men sent to guard you, faces hardened by greed and violence, yet even they had begun to whisper in hushed tones over the past days—of dragons, of black sails, of the King who would come. Maegor.

For weeks, you had wondered if it was only a matter of time before your captors sold you to another—or worse. But it was not the men of Lys who had taken you—it was Aegon. Your own brother. He had sent you here, far away from Maegor, far from the throne. He believed it was for your own good, to keep you safe from the king who had burned through the realm to take the Iron Throne. To keep you from the man who had claimed you as his.

But your brother had gravely underestimated the lengths to which Maegor would go to have you back.

And now he had come.

The tower trembled beneath your feet as Balerion’s roar split the sky, shaking the very stones of Lys. The dragon’s fire lit the horizon, the harbor a hellscape of flames and destruction. You could hear the distant cries of men fleeing from the wrath of the Black Dread, and in that moment, a strange calm settled over you. You knew Maegor. You had known him since childhood—his strength, his darkness, and above all, his possessiveness. He would burn this city to the ground for you. He would raze every last building, tear every stone apart brick by brick, until he had you back in his grasp.

The door to your chamber flew open, splintering as it slammed against the wall. The guard who had been stationed outside was gone, replaced by men bearing the black and red sigil of House Targaryen. They moved aside without a word, and there, standing in the doorway, was Maegor.

He was just as you remembered him, but now there was a fierceness in his gaze that you had never seen before. His armor, still streaked with blood from battle, glinted in the dim light. His silver hair, windswept from the flight atop Balerion, framed a face carved from stone, hard and unyielding. And his eyes—those dark violet eyes burned with a hunger, an obsession, that had only grown stronger with time. He had come for you.

Without a word, Maegor strode into the room, his presence filling it like a storm. He did not wait for pleasantries, nor for explanations. He reached for you, his hand closing around your arm with a grip that was firm but not painful, his eyes searching your face as if to assure himself that you were real, that you were truly here.

"You’re coming with me," he said, his voice low and rough. There was no question, no hesitation, just the ironclad certainty that had always driven him.

"Maegor," you began, your voice quiet but steady. The words you had rehearsed in your mind seemed to dissolve as you looked into his eyes. The fury, the relief, the need—it was all there, laid bare. He was not a man to be denied.

"You will never be taken from me again," he growled, his fingers tightening slightly around your arm as if to emphasize his point. "I’ve burned half the world to get to you. No one will stand between us now."

You had heard tales of what he had done—of how he had torn through Aegon’s forces at the God's Eye, of how he had set the seas aflame in his pursuit of you. But you never imagined that it would come to this—that your own brother would try to keep you from him. And now that he stood before you, towering, unyielding, you realized that there was no escaping the inevitability of what came next.

"You were mine from the moment you were born," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And they kept you from me. All of them—my father, your brother, the gods themselves. But no more. You will be my queen, and no one will ever take you from me again."

His words, raw and fierce, echoed in the space between you, and for a moment, all you could hear was the distant roar of Balerion outside, the great beast that had carried him across the skies to find you.

You met his gaze, and in that moment, something shifted within you. You had known Maegor your whole life. You had seen the violence in him, but you had also seen the man beneath it—the one who, for all his ruthlessness, had always looked at you as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. And now, standing before him, you understood that there was no escaping him, not now, not ever.

"Then take me," you whispered, your voice soft but clear. "I’m ready."

Maegor’s eyes darkened, and in one swift motion, he pulled you into him, his lips crashing against yours with all the pent-up fury and longing that had driven him to Lys. His kiss was fierce, possessive, and you knew then that the man who had come for you was not just the king, but the dragon itself—untamable, unstoppable, and wholly yours.

When he pulled away, his hand still cradled the back of your neck, his eyes locked on yours. "We leave now," he said, his voice a low growl. "There’s nothing for you here. Nothing but ash."

He led you from the room without another word, the tower and all its horrors fading behind you as you stepped out into the night. Balerion waited, his massive form dark against the sky, and as Maegor helped you onto the dragon's back, you knew that whatever fate awaited you, it would be by his side.

And so, with a single command, Balerion’s wings unfurled, and together you soared into the night, leaving Lys in flames behind you.

#fire and blood #game of thrones #house of the dragon #hotd #got #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf x reader #maegor x y/n #maegor x you #maegor x reader #maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #maegor i targaryen #house targaryen

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callsigns-haze · 5 months ago

Text

The Chase

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Tyler's storm-chasing adventure takes an intimate turn as Y/N teases and overstimulates him during a high-stakes tornado chase, creating an intense moment of passion and connection amidst the chaos.

Chapter Warnings: Explicit sexual content, including oral sex and overstimulation, during a dangerous storm chase.

WC: 1.5k

The night sky was an inky black canvas, streaked with flashes of lightning as the storm raged in the distance. The air crackled with anticipation and electricity, and the thrill of the chase was palpable. Tyler gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes focused on the road ahead as he drove through the winding backroads, chasing the storm.

Y/N sat beside him, the adrenaline coursing through her veins matching his own. She had always been a part of his storm-chasing adventures, but tonight felt different. There was a charged energy between them, an unspoken understanding that they were in this together, no matter the risks.

Tyler glanced at her, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the seriousness of their mission. "You ready for this?"

Y/N nodded, her excitement mirroring his own. "Always."

As they drove deeper into the heart of the storm, the wind howled around them, and the rain lashed against the windshield. The roar of the approaching tornado was a distant, ominous sound, growing louder with each passing moment. Tyler's concentration was unwavering, his eyes flicking between the road and the radar on the dashboard.

Y/N watched him, her heart swelling with pride and love. He was in his element, a master of his craft, and she couldn't help but be mesmerized by his intensity. She reached over, her hand resting on his thigh, offering a silent gesture of support and affection.

Tyler's hand covered hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We're getting close," he said, his voice a mix of excitement and caution.

Y/N could see the funnel cloud in the distance, a dark, swirling mass of destruction. It was both terrifying and awe-inspiring, a reminder of the raw power of nature. She trusted Tyler implicitly, knowing that he would keep them safe even as they flirted with danger.

As the tension in the car mounted, an idea sparked in Y/N's mind. She wanted to remind Tyler of the connection they shared, to bring a moment of intimacy and grounding amidst the chaos. She leaned over, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want to make you feel good."

Tyler's breath hitched, his eyes widening in surprise. "Y/N, we're in the middle of a chase..."

"I know," she replied, her voice low and sultry. "But I need you to remember that I'm here with you. That I love you."

Before he could protest further, Y/N's hands moved to unbutton his jeans, her touch confident and deliberate. Tyler's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he tried to maintain his focus on the road. The storm raged around them, the tornado a looming presence, but Y/N was determined to create a moment of connection and passion.

She leaned down, her lips trailing kisses along his stomach, feeling the tension in his muscles. Tyler's breath came in ragged gasps, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The danger of the storm, the thrill of the chase, and the intoxicating sensation of Y/N's touch all melded together, creating a heady mix of excitement and desire.

Y/N started with gentle kisses, her lips barely grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. She took her time, enjoying the way his body reacted to her touch. Her fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, teasingly slipping inside before pulling back.

Tyler groaned, his eyes briefly fluttering shut before he forced them open again, his focus wavering between the road and the overwhelming pleasure. "Y/N, you're killing me," he managed to say, his voice strained.

She smiled against his skin, her breath warm as she whispered, "Patience, love."

With deliberate slowness, Y/N peeled back the fabric of his boxers, revealing him fully. She wrapped her hand around him, feeling the heat and hardness, and gave a slow, deliberate stroke. Tyler's hips lifted slightly, a soft curse escaping his lips as he fought to keep the car steady.

Y/N began to kiss her way down his length, her tongue darting out to taste him. She moved with a tantalizing rhythm, her mouth hot and wet against his skin. Tyler's breathing grew more ragged, each inhale and exhale a battle for control.

Tyler's hips bucked involuntarily, a low moan escaping his lips. "Y/N, I... I can't..."

Y/N took him into her mouth, inch by agonizing inch. She hollowed her cheeks, creating a delicious pressure as she moved up and down his length. Her tongue swirled around the tip, tasting the salty bead of pre-come that had formed there.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to speak. "You can't what? Hold on? Or do you want more?"

"More," he choked out, his eyes glazed with desire.

Y/N took him deeper, her head bobbing in a steady, relentless rhythm. She could feel the tension building in his body, the way his muscles tensed and his breath hitched with each movement. Her hand joined in, stroking the base of him in time with her mouth, creating a double sensation that drove him wild.

Tyler's control was slipping, his mind a haze of pleasure and need. The car swerved slightly, and his hand shot out to steady the wheel. "God, Y/N, you're gonna make me crash."

She pulled back for a moment, her eyes meeting his with a mischievous glint. "Then you better focus, Tyler. Because I'm not stopping."

With that, she took him even deeper, her movements more insistent and urgent. He could feel the storm closing in, the tornado's destructive power a stark contrast to the intimate moment they were sharing.

Y/N's tongue moved with expert precision, swirling and flicking, creating sensations that drove him to the edge. She knew just how to tease him, how to bring him to the brink and then pull back, leaving him wanting more. Her hand continued its relentless rhythm, each stroke a tantalizing promise of release.

Tyler's grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point of pain. He was teetering on the edge, the combined thrill of the chase and Y/N's touch pushing him to his limits. With a strangled cry, he finally let go, the release washing over him in waves of ecstasy.

Y/N didn't stop. She continued her ministrations, her mouth and hand working in tandem to prolong his pleasure. Tyler's body trembled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to regain his composure. The overstimulation was almost too much, but Y/N's touch was too intoxicating to resist.

She pulled back slightly, her lips brushing against his sensitive skin. "Do you like that, Tyler?" she whispered, her voice dripping with seduction.

"Yes," he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on to his sanity. "God, yes."

"Good," she replied, her tone teasing. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

With renewed intensity, Y/N took him back into her mouth, her movements slow and deliberate. She built the tension again, her tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to drive him wild. Tyler's mind was a whirlwind of sensations, the pleasure almost too intense to bear.

"Y/N, please," he begged, his voice hoarse with desperation.

"Please what?" she asked, pulling back just enough to speak. "What do you want, Tyler?"

"I... I can't..." he stammered, his body trembling with need.

"Can't what?" she teased, her hand moving in slow, torturous strokes. "Can't hold on? Or do you want more?"

"More," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/N smiled, satisfied with his response. She took him even deeper, her mouth and hand working in perfect unison to bring him to the edge once more. Tyler's control was slipping, the pleasure too intense to resist. With a final, desperate cry, he let go, the release washing over him in waves of ecstasy.

When she finally pulled back, Tyler was spent, his body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Y/N wiped her mouth with a satisfied smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"How was that for a distraction?" she asked, her voice full of teasing.

Tyler laughed, the sound a mix of relief and lingering desire. "You're incredible," he said, his voice still hoarse.

Y/N leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I love you, Tyler. Never forget that."

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens #twisters fanfiction #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens smut

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 6 months ago

Text

Lost

anthony bridgerton x fem reader

summary: During a storm, Anthony Bridgerton finds his friend Y/N unconscious after a fall from her horse.

The skies over Aubrey Hall were dark and threatening, the air heavy with the promise of a storm. Anthony Bridgerton, the eldest of the Bridgerton siblings and the responsible Viscount, often found solace in the rhythmic gallop of his horse across the rolling fields. On this particular day, he decided to go for a ride despite the gathering storm clouds, hoping the fresh air would clear his mind.

As he rode through the familiar paths, his thoughts drifted to Y/N. She had been a constant in his life since they were children, their bond as strong as any familial tie. But recently, he found himself noticing her in a new light – the way her laughter warmed his heart, the spark in her eyes when she spoke of her passions, and the gentle grace she carried herself with. Yet, he had not fully confronted these feelings, pushing them aside in the face of duty and responsibility.

The first crack of thunder startled Anthony from his reverie. He looked up, realizing the storm was upon him. Deciding to turn back, he urged his horse into a faster gait. As he approached a familiar clearing, he saw a sight that made his heart stop – Y/N’s horse was galloping wildly, riderless.

Fear seized him, and he spurred his horse towards the clearing. There, amidst the pouring rain, he saw her – Y/N, lying motionless on the ground. Her form was crumpled, mud and rain soaking her clothes. Without a second thought, Anthony dismounted and rushed to her side.

“Y/N!” he screamed, his voice barely audible over the howling wind and rain. He knelt beside her, his heart pounding in his chest as he gently turned her over. Her face was pale, her eyes closed, and she was utterly still. “No, no, no,” he muttered, panic rising in his throat.

Without wasting another moment, Anthony scooped her up into his arms. She felt frighteningly light, and the fear of losing her gnawed at him with every step. “Hold on, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “Just hold on.”

The journey back to the Bridgerton estate was a blur of rain and desperation. Anthony’s muscles burned with the effort, but he didn’t slow his pace. His only thought was getting Y/N to safety, to help. The image of her lying unconscious in the rain fueled his determination.

Finally, the grand silhouette of Aubrey Hall loomed ahead. Anthony’s cries for help alerted the staff, who rushed out to meet him. “Get the doctor!” he shouted as he carried Y/N inside. “Now!”

He placed her gently on a settee in the drawing room, his hands trembling. The house was a flurry of activity, the Bridgerton family and staff moving quickly to assist. Anthony barely registered his mother’s worried face or his siblings’ concerned questions. All he could see was Y/N, still unconscious and pale.

The family doctor arrived swiftly, ushered in by the commotion. He examined Y/N with a professional detachment that both reassured and terrified Anthony. Every second felt like an eternity as he waited for the doctor’s verdict.

“She’s sustained a concussion and some bruising,” the doctor finally said, his tone grave. “But she’s strong. With proper care and rest, she should recover fully.”

Relief flooded Anthony, and he sank to his knees beside her, tears mingling with the rain still dripping from his hair. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Thank you.”

The hours that followed were a blur. Anthony refused to leave Y/N’s side, holding her hand and willing her to wake up. His mother brought him a dry set of clothes, but he barely noticed the discomfort of his wet clothes. All he could think about was the fear of losing her, and the realization that he couldn’t bear the thought.

As the storm raged outside, the hours stretched on. Anthony’s mind raced with memories – their childhood escapades, the laughter they shared, the unspoken bond that had always existed between them. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen that she was more than just a friend?

It was in the quiet hours of the night, as the storm began to wane, that Y/N finally stirred. Her eyelids fluttered, and a soft moan escaped her lips. Anthony, who had been dozing fitfully by her side, jerked awake, his heart leaping with hope.

“Y/N?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Can you hear me?”

Her eyes opened slowly, focusing on his face. “Anthony?” she murmured, her voice weak.

Relief and joy surged through him, and tears filled his eyes. “Oh, thank God,” he breathed. “You’re awake. You’re going to be okay.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly as she took in his tear-streaked face. “What happened?”

“You fell from your horse,” he explained, his voice thick with emotion. “I found you in the clearing. I thought… I thought I’d lost you.”

Tears of his own began to fall as he spoke, the weight of his fear and relief overwhelming him. “I was so scared, Y/N. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

She squeezed his hand weakly, offering a small, reassuring smile. “I’m here, Anthony. I’m okay.”

In that moment, Anthony knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. The realization that he could have lost her, that he had almost missed his chance, was too much to bear. “Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ve been such a fool. I’ve been blind to what’s been right in front of me all these years.”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern. “What is it, Anthony?”

“I love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. But I was too stubborn, too scared to admit it. Finding you today, seeing you like that… it made me realize how much you mean to me. I can’t lose you. I don’t want to live without you.”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes as she listened to his heartfelt confession. “Oh, Anthony,” she whispered. “I’ve loved you too. I’ve been waiting for you to see it, to understand that my heart has always belonged to you.”

The weight of their unspoken feelings hung in the air between them. Anthony leaned forward, gently brushing his lips against hers in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the love and emotion that had been building for years, a kiss that promised a future together.

When they finally pulled apart, Anthony rested his forehead against hers, tears of relief and joy mingling with hers. “We’ll get through this together,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you, Y/N. I promise.”

And in that moment, as the storm gave way to a peaceful dawn, Anthony and Y/N knew that their love was strong enough to weather any storm. Their journey had been filled with twists and turns, but they had found their way to each other at last, their hearts and lives intertwined forever.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x wife reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton smut

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darkroomkisses · 2 years ago

Note

Uh, can I request a dark!ethan with quinn's scene in the bathroom but instead of her being the reader, where gf!ethan is waiting for her to fuck her w non-con. Thank you!

hope it is understood, English is not my first language

Rejected (Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader)

A/N: Oh spicy! Yes, pretty sure I understand you! I hope this is to your liking, I changed some stuff from the scene in the movie. Danny doesn't see ghostface in the room. Went a little darker toward the end (oops) Thanks Anon <3

Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader

Summary: After rejecting Dark!Ethan when he asks you on a date, he's angry enough to kill. So he does just that, he kills your hookup and fucks you after. READ TAGS!

Warnings: NON-CON,SMUT, Dark!Ethan Landry, Ghostface Ethan Landry, fem!reader, Murder, Choking, Unconscious reader, Dacryphilia, Possessive!Ethan, Jealous!Ethan, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, marking, biting, Face Slapping, slight slut-shaming. Don't read if uncomfortable with dark themes, other than that ENJOY!! 🥀

Banner by @straywords 🥀

Ethan has been obsessed with you from the moment he met you. Whenever he would come over to the apartment you shared with Sam and Tara, he would watch you so intensely, some of the times you noticed but it didn’t bother you too much, but it made you a little uneasy.

His eyes were so dark and fierce you felt like your skin might set ablaze. His eyes never leave you when you all hang out. All that ran through his mind was wrapping his hands around your neck watching you shiver under him as he forced himself in you. He wanted to look into your fearful eyes and see sweet tears running down your pretty face.

About a month ago, Ethan mustered up the courage to ask you on a date, you giggled at his shy attempt to ask you out and rubbed his face, telling him you only see him as a friend. Those words haven’t left his mind since only playing on repeat as he laid in bed every night.

It was late in the evening, The house lively with the gang spending time together in the kitchen, completely distracted from what was going down in the other room.

That was perfect for Ethan, he was preparing for his attack, hiding away in your closet. He was ready to kill the loser who just fucked you in two pumps leaving you disappointed and needy for more. Ethan was seething with rage because what the fuck did this fucker have that he didn’t? The fucker didn’t even make you cum. His cock half hard thinking about what he wanted to do to you. The fucker went into the bathroom leaving you alone in the bedroom. You slipped your nightgown back on and pulled out your phone, turning to the side. Ethan couldn’t wait anymore.

“Babe, you coming to join me?” The guy yelled from the bathroom; you met him earlier that night at a frat party, he was cute, and you were drunk. You put your phone down for a second to respond “No and don’t use my face wash it’s pH-balance for women” you yell, “yeah whatever you say” he yells back. You go back to your phone, giggling at the video you were watching. Unaware of the dark figure looming over you, after a few seconds of Ethan running his eyes over your figure, his fingers twitching desperately wanting to touch you. He slipped out of your room to kill that loser in the bathroom.

Ethan finished the job, he sighed out, fuck it felt good to kill that alpha fucker who was a two-pump chump. But what he had planned next would feel even better. Ethan slipped back into your bedroom quietly to not disturb you. You hadn't moved from your position. Ethan leaned over you in a quick motion, hand over your mouth, all his bodyweight pinning you to the bed the blade was at your neck, the slightest pressure pushing into you.

Your eyes widen, you gear up to scream as you meet the big dark eyes of Ghostface. You started to cry, Ghostface just stared down at you, his hand tight on your face. You screamed against his hand, your body shaking with fear, you were going to be killed. Ghostface shook his blade in your face, shutting you up instantly.

Ethan smiled under the mask; happy his plan was playing out perfectly. His cock was hard and leaking already. You looked even more perfect than he pictured late at night when had his hand wrapped around his hard cock, getting off to the thought of you. Your eyes were puffy and red, your tears couldn’t stop falling. Ethan took his blade and ran it down your short nightgown, tearing it in half and exposing your bare body to him, your breathing started to speed up at the realization of what was about to happen.

You heard a quiet moan from Ghostface, your blood running cold. “Scream and I'll kill all your fucking friends in the kitchen” Ethan said in the Ghostface voice making you shiver. You couldn’t let your friends die because of you. You shook your head quickly. Ethan took his hand from your mouth to squeeze one of your boobs he leaned his head down to your neck, rutting against your core, it took everything in you to not throw up at the feel of his hands exploring your body and the heavy breathing in your ear made your stomach turn.

Once Ethan got his feel, his free hand moved down to your wet pussy, his gloved hand stroking all over. Ethan was surprised how wet you were, and it was all for him. Ethan hovered over you to get a better look at your wet core. Ethan let go of the knife to remove his gloves. He had to feel you properly against his skin. He returned his hand rubbing your clit, you let out a soft hum, Ethan snapped his head up to see your face. It was exquisite, your face twisted like you were trying to hold back your pleasure.

That twisted his desire to get you to make more pretty noises for him. He wanted to hear you cry out, with that he pushed his fingers deep into you, hard and fast. You let out a broken moan, whimpering for him to stop. “p..please stop, please” you pant, with your lips quivering. Ethan let out a half laugh. “Why would I stop when you feel so good?” he said rutting faster and making circles on your clit with his thumb, determined to make you cum...hard. “Fuck you feel so good y/n” Ethan moaned your name lewdly. Your eyes widen, your thoughts running a mile a minute now, trying to think who the fuck this was. You didn't have much time to think, your fear and arousal ramping up to another level, your orgasm threating to crash down on you.

Your legs start to shake, your back arches against him your chest raising, and he takes his other hand and grabs your boob squeezing so tight, he pinches your nipple, rolling it with his fingers. He wanted to bring your tit into his mouth and suck hard on your hard nipple.

You clenched down hard on his fingers, he’s breathing deep into your ear, encouraging you on. “Good girl, cum on my fucking fingers” Ethan growled into your ear. You came down from your high, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Between the crying and the orgasm that had you shaking uncontrollably you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Your head whipped to the side, your cheek stinging. “Wake up, we are not done yet” Ethan growls. His cock was painfully hard now, he needed to be inside you. Your eyes fluttered, Ethan grabbed your neck tightly he whimpered softly, fuck he wanted to do that all night. Ethan releases his hard cock with his free hand.

Your panic hits you like lighting you tried to squirm out of his grip but that only made Ethan more excited. He lines his cock up with your slit, Ethan rubs his cock up and down on your wetness. In one quick thrust, Ethan forces himself in you, he lets out a low moan, steadying himself, he felt like he was going to burst inside you. Ethan almost couldn’t contain himself and thrust hard a few times, this is the first time Ethan felt pussy this good, the only time, actually.

His hands choked you hard with each rock of his hips. “Fuck, you know how long I wanted to stick my cock deep Inside you?” Your head feels light, and you are barely able to register what he’s saying to you.

You reach up to tear his hands away, but you couldn’t find the strength. “Your pussy is fucking mine, only for me” Ethan pants as he drags his cock against your hot walls. “You’re so tight, I feel like I'm tearing you apart.” You could hear the smile in his voice, each word dripping with lust.

“I c-can’t-” you choke out before you feel yourself fading into unconsciousness. Ethan didn’t let go of your neck for a few seconds, watching you fall limp under him. Ethan pulled his mask off throwing it to the ground. Sweat beating down his face, his hair a wild mess. He stops his movement for a second hiking your knees to your chest so he can fuck deeper into your slick hole.

The only sounds that filled the room were Ethan’s desperate moans and groans and the wet sounds of him fucking sloppily into you. He kissed your lips roughly, moaning into your mouth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, all for me” Ethan chanted darkly. He moved his lips to your neck sucking and kissing the marks he left on you. He was so close; he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Ethan roughly grabbed your hips, making your back arch. He was gripping so tightly he definitely left marks. “Fuck baby, take my cum you little slut” Ethan pumped in you harshly one last time letting out a deep moan as he spilled inside you. Ethan slowly pulled out of you, watching your slit dip his cum.

Ethan kissed your lips softly, roaming his hands all over your soft limp body one more time. Finally, he sits up, tucking you under the covers. Ethan kisses your forehead and puts his mask back on before fleeing the room. You were out cold, breathing softly and completely unaware that your shy friend Ethan had attacked you and you never will know.

#Dark!Ethan Landry #Smut #Scream 6 #ethan landry imagine #request #Ethan Landry smut #dark fic #tw noncon #Ethan Landry one shot #Non-Con #rough smut #bad time for reader #tw r4p3 #gf! Ethan Landry #ghostface fanfiction

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phantomwithbreakfast · 26 days ago

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~ Danny Phantom ~

“What does it feel like? To be terrified of yourself—of what you are becoming? The future looms not like an open road but a trap, a dark inevitability. You’re not waiting for it, not watching for it. You’re running. Trying to ignore the whispers in your head, lying to yourself that it’s fine, that it’ll always be fine.”

When the sun goes under the line called a horizon, the night sky comes to life. A silvery moon’s light bathing the eerie glow of an aura, catching the shadow out of the black.

The darkness surrounded him, with little sparks of hope. Stars that couldn’t catch him, neither he could catch.

His veins flowing with cold fire, tingling skin feeling intangible. A mind that’s filled with hollow, yet spiraling in chaos. Split into divergent, until down and dusk.

Why are you doing this to me? You leave me standing here, can’t you see. I was lost in your eyes, this was never meant to arise. You were my hero, always to be. But now you’ve vanished, you’re no longer with me.

We tried to carry on, but it wasn’t right. Forever burned in memory, like a song in the night.

Why does this hurt, hurt so much. It was never meant to be, as such. You gave me strength to stand alone, but now I cry when I’m on my own. Drowning inside, lost in a sea, why are you doing this to me? It makes me weak, a strange kind of ache, you’ll never understand the pain I take.

The memories keep running on, of how it used to be, before you were gone. The hero you were is no longer here, you flew away, so light, like a feather near. Don’t do this to me, please come back.

I still wonder why it had to be this way, so much potential, yet it all went astray. You went a different path, never to be seen, this wasn’t meant to happen, it was too obscene.

It lingers like a song, etched in my mind, it should have brought us joy, a love so kind. Like a song, will you ever return?

When will you be here again? I miss you more with every grain. Forever chained within my heart, I bring you to life through every art. In my memory, you’ll always remain, and beside you, I’ll forever stand.

“I want to cry, I want to scream, but I can’t. I mustn’t.”

The storm raged on, tearing through the night. Shadows of fear and regret clung to her like chains.

“Take my hand,” Danny said, his voice calm, cutting through the chaos.

“Why? So you can watch me crumble? So I can drag you down with me?”

His eyes softened, but his hand never wavered. “If you crumble, I’ll catch you, I’ll follow. Just trust me.”

“You… don’t understand.”

“I don’t need to understand,” he said softly. “I’ll carry you, no matter what happens, I’ll never let you fall.”

Slowly and with a trembling hand, she reached for him. Their fingers met, and his grip was strong, cold but alive—everything she thought she’d lost.

The chaos began to still, and she felt the faint echo of something she thought was gone.

Hope.

Those were random texts I wrote through the years of my own existence.

———————

You can read my Phan Fics on FanFiction.net. PhantomWithBreakfast

———————

Note to myself again…

About the drawings, I was just playing (practicing) with lighting, shading, etc…

Expressions, mouths... Yeah, still working on that. I was too lazy to shade the hair, lol.

Still hate drawing hands.

And the funny thing is, just because I’m drawing every day, I’ll always find new ways to try to improve my art (duh). Because I’m never happy when I’ve ‘finished’ one.

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buttercandy16 · 6 days ago

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Asylum

Chapter Four: Enemy of my Enemy

PAIRING(s): Psychiatrist!Agatha Harkness x Patient!Reader x Inmate!Rio Vidal

SUMMARY: Wrongfully imprisoned, Reader becomes the obsession of Agatha, a cunning psychiatrist, and Rio, a fiery inmate. Together, they’ll ensure she’s theirs—forever.

WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Confinement, Madness, Dubcon, and Betrayal.

Rio's whispered promise to free you played in your mind like a scratched record for the rest of the day, the words insidious in their persistence. You didn’t want to believe her—couldn't trust her—but the possibility of escape, no matter how fragile, made your breath catch in your throat.

Could you really leave? And, more terrifying, would either of them let you?

By the time night fell, the edges of your resolve had begun to crumble. Your small cell felt more like a tomb, the walls pulsing with the weight of what lay ahead. The conflicting forces of Rio and Agatha loomed over you, as though the air between them left no room for you to breathe.

Then came the night Rio made good on her word—or so she claimed.

The clock had just struck midnight when your door creaked open.

“Psst.”

You jolted upright to see Rio’s unmistakable silhouette leaning in the doorway, her wild grin catching what little light filtered into the room. She looked untamed, even more so than usual, her hair messy, her eyes practically glittering with adrenaline.

“Get up, mi amor. Time’s up.”

You hesitated, instinct screaming at you to stay still, to stay quiet. If you left with her, this wouldn’t end well—Agatha would see to that.

Still, the thought of escape pulled at you like a siren song.

“Rio,” you whispered sharply, clutching the blanket around your knees. “This is insane. What are you—”

“Shut up and move,” she hissed, her voice low but fierce as she slipped into the cell. She crouched beside you, her fingers gripping your arm tightly. “We’re doing this. Now.”

Her intensity was suffocating, her presence taking up every inch of the confined space.

“Even if you don’t believe me, what’s keeping you here?” she asked, her lips brushing against your ear in the dark. “Her? You think she’s going to save you?”

Your breath hitched, your mind racing through every tangled interaction you’d had with Agatha over the past weeks. As terrifying as she was, there was safety in the familiarity of her controlled demeanor. But the memory of her possessive whispers and the subtle threats she weaved in her kindness still sent shivers down your spine.

“Let me save you, cariño.” Rio's voice softened now, tinged with what almost sounded like genuine affection.

And maybe that was why you found yourself swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Maybe that was why, against your better judgment, you allowed Rio to take your hand.

The corridors of the asylum were eerily silent as Rio led you through them, her steps swift and silent on the cold floor.

"How do you know where to go?" you whispered, glancing nervously over your shoulder.

She smirked without looking back. "Unlike you, I’m not new to this place. I know its secrets."

Her confidence rattled you as much as it reassured you, the fine line between competence and recklessness blurring with every step she took.

But before long, that line snapped.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The voice sent ice through your veins. Agatha stepped out of the shadows at the far end of the corridor, her dark eyes cutting through the dim light like razors. Her usual composure was cracked just enough to show the rage simmering beneath her surface.

Rio froze, but only for a moment, before letting out a sharp laugh. "Of course you couldn’t just mind your own business, doc. Always watching, always scheming."

You stepped back instinctively, your heart pounding in your chest as Agatha's gaze slid to you. Her lips curved into a smile, but it wasn’t warm or reassuring—it was predatory.

"Step away from her, Rio," Agatha commanded, her voice dangerously calm.

"Not a chance," Rio shot back, shifting her body protectively in front of you. "I told you she’s not your toy to keep. She’s coming with me."

The tension in the air was suffocating as the two women locked eyes, the silent war between them more terrifying than any shouting match. You could feel their conflicting wills tugging at you like invisible chains, each pulling you closer to their side.

But you weren’t a pawn—or, at least, you didn’t want to be.

"Enough!" you snapped, your voice trembling but firm as you stepped forward.

Both women froze, their gazes snapping to you in unison.

"I can't—I can’t do this," you stammered, clutching your head as the weight of their obsession crushed you from both sides. "You’re both insane, and you’re dragging me down with you!"

Rio’s face twisted in frustration, while Agatha tilted her head, her dark hair framing her sharp features.

"Darling," Agatha began, her voice syrupy with forced calm, "you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re overwhelmed, but you’ll understand soon enough. You belong here—with me.”

“No,” Rio growled, cutting her off and stepping closer to you. “You don’t belong here at all, cariño. Let me take you away from her, from this place.”

"You think she’ll last a day out there?" Agatha snapped, her mask of calm fracturing entirely. "She’s fragile. The world will eat her alive without someone to protect her—someone like me."

“I’m right here, doc.” Rio’s voice was sharp enough to draw blood. “And I’m not letting her rot in your twisted little fantasy."

You felt dizzy, their words washing over you in an endless tide of possessiveness and control. Escape was no longer the question—survival was.

The choice was ripped away from you in the next moment. Before you could speak, Rio lunged.

She moved faster than you thought possible, closing the distance between herself and Agatha with predatory precision. For a moment, you thought she might actually win—until you saw the glint of silver in Agatha’s hand.

The syringe plunged into Rio’s neck before she could react, her wild grin faltering as her legs buckled beneath her.

"You fool," Agatha hissed, catching Rio’s falling body with chilling ease. "Did you really think you could win this game?"

You backed away, terror clawing at your throat as Agatha turned her attention back to you.

"Now," she said, smoothing her rumpled coat as though nothing had happened, "let’s get you back where you belong."

Her calm words were the last thing you heard before darkness closed in around you.

When you woke, your body felt heavy, like you'd been pulled from quicksand. The world swam into focus slowly, the familiar dim light of the infirmary's ceiling above you. A sharp sting in your arm drew your attention downward to find an IV taped against your skin.

Panic surged as the fog of sedation lifted, and the fragmented memories of last night crashed down on you. Rio’s body crumpling as Agatha overpowered her, the clinical calm in Agatha’s tone as she promised to “fix” everything.

Your throat tightened. Had she drugged you, too? How long had you been out?

The sound of voices filtered into the room, growing clearer as the door swung open. You didn’t need to look to know who they belonged to.

“She’s mine, Rio,” Agatha’s voice was sharp but level, though it carried an unmistakable tension. “You nearly ruined everything.”

Rio’s laugh was ragged, tinged with defiance despite its weakness. “Oh, yeah? And what’s your excuse, doc? You don’t think chaining her here with your manipulative crap will snap her eventually?”

You turned your head just enough to see them. Agatha’s posture was as stiff and upright as always, though her dark eyes burned with barely-contained rage. Rio, in contrast, looked disheveled and furious, leaning against the wall for support, a hand pressed to her neck where the syringe had struck.

“I wasn’t the one trying to haul her through the asylum like some thief in the night,” Agatha spat. “You’re reckless. No plan, no care for what would’ve happened if you were caught. Do you think security wouldn’t have thrown her in solitary for weeks after your stunt?”

“And your plan is so much better?” Rio shot back, stepping closer despite her visible weakness. “What, smother her until she loves you back? At least I wasn’t drugging her into compliance.”

“She would never survive outside of here,” Agatha snapped, her control slipping for the briefest moment. “You may think you’re the lesser evil, but what you tried would have destroyed her.”

The weight of their conversation fell heavily on you, the realization settling like a stone in your gut: they were arguing over you like you were some prize to be won. Not a person, not a victim of circumstance, but a thing—their thing.

You’d been nothing more than their pawn this entire time.

The truth ignited something deep within you, a flame that burned past the sedation weighing on your limbs. You clenched your hands, determination coalescing with your fear.

If neither of them would let you go, you’d have to take matters into your own hands.

The next few days blurred as you began quietly planting seeds of misdirection. Every word you said to either of them was careful, calculated—designed to sow discord between the two. It didn’t take much effort; their hatred for one another was barely concealed beneath the surface.

Agatha cornered you in the therapy room on the second day, her gaze softer than usual.

“You look tired, darling,” she said, her voice low and soothing as she sat across from you. “But don’t worry. Things are going to be different soon. I’ll keep you safe from her.”

You nodded numbly, knowing better than to argue. “She scares me,” you whispered, a faint quiver added to your tone. “She... she keeps talking about getting me out of here, but... I don’t know if I trust her.”

The faint twitch of satisfaction in Agatha’s expression didn’t escape your notice. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing yours in a way that made you shiver.

“You don’t need to worry about her,” she murmured. “I’ll handle Rio.”

Later that evening, you sought Rio out, finding her in the common room, idly twirling a fork between her fingers like a weapon. When she saw you, her expression softened, though her grin remained sharp-edged.

“Well, if it isn’t my little escape artist,” she teased, gesturing for you to sit beside her.

You hesitated but obliged, lowering your voice to a whisper as you leaned in. “She’s watching me, Rio. Every move I make. I think... I think she knows I’m still considering leaving.”

Rio’s grin faltered, her jaw tightening. “Of course she is,” she said bitterly. “That witch has her claws in deep, doesn’t she?”

“She told me she’d stop you if you tried anything again,” you added, your voice soft but urgent. “I... I’m scared of what she might do to you, Rio.”

Her eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, her fury seemed to melt away, replaced by something softer—something raw.

“Let her try,” Rio muttered, her voice low but vicious. “But she won’t win.”

What you hadn’t counted on was how far the two of them would go to maintain their hold on you.

It started small—subtle shifts in their behavior. Agatha spent more time with you, her demeanor bordering on saccharine as she reassured you that everything would be alright if you stayed under her care. Rio grew increasingly protective, pulling you into hushed conversations where she ranted about Agatha’s manipulative control.

But then came the night they both broke.

You were woken by the sound of voices raised in anger just outside your cell.

“You idiot!” Agatha’s voice was sharp, her words slicing through the silence like a blade. “Do you have any idea what your little games are doing to her?”

“Oh, spare me the concern,” Rio shot back. “At least I don’t treat her like some fragile doll you can lock in a cabinet.”

“Because dragging her into chaos is so much better?” Agatha sneered. “You’re reckless, unhinged—she doesn’t need that.”

“She doesn’t need you either,” Rio snarled.

The sound of a struggle followed, something crashing against the wall.

“I’m not letting you win,” Agatha hissed.

For a moment, silence reigned, heavy and suffocating.

Then came Agatha’s next words, quieter but venomous: “If either of us pushes too hard, she’ll break. We’ll lose her. Is that what you want?”

The shift in tone sent chills down your spine.

“If you think I’m teaming up with you, you’re crazier than they say I am,” Rio said, though the venom in her voice faltered.

Agatha’s response was disturbingly calm: “We don’t have a choice.”

Your blood ran cold as realization dawned. You weren’t escaping. You were being pulled even deeper into their web.

And now? Now they were working together to keep you there.

_-_-_

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, and comment 💜💚

#agatha harkness x reader #agathario #rio vidal x reader #dark fanfiction #agatha all along #rio vidal #agatha harkness #agatha harkness fanfic #kathryn hahn #marvel #aubrey plaza

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randomdragonfires · 8 months ago

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Moon Song | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | He killed Lucerys, but Aemond sees the ghost of his nephew wherever he goes - especially in his sweet wife's eyes.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; ANGST; Delusions; Incest; Dark Themes; Kinslaying; DD;DNE!

WORD COUNT | 6.6k

A/N | Originally written as a birthday gift for @humanpurposes. Nothing says happy birthday like a dark fic about madness and murder I guess? :)

RAIN-SOAKED AND WEARY, AEMOND TRUDGES THROUGH the murky streets of King's Landing, his cold and damp riding leathers offering no respite. Each step echoes with the haunting images of Vhagar's reckless attack on Luke, the small, agonizing details etched into his mind like a deep carving. The city, shrouded in an eerie mist, seems to mourn his nephew in silent empathy.

A scared face. The cracking of jaws. The sight of Arrax’s wing flapping aimlessly down into the sea. Luke, falling free through the skies…

The Red Keep looms ahead, its imposing towers piercing the darkened sky. Aemond ascends the ancient stone steps in silence, his solitude a curtain shrouding the tempest raging within him. The guards watch him cautiously, sensing the palpable storm that accompanies the one-eyed Prince’s return. As he passes, the torches on the wall flicker, casting grotesque shadows that dance along the corridor walls.

Entering the shared chambers, Aemond's presence goes unnoticed at first. His wife awaits him, her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and anticipation as she sits at the edge of the bed, finding his gaze and immediately making note of his distress. He can feel her scrutiny, her eyes seeking answers he isn't ready to give. With how disappointed she may be, he is not sure that he’ll ever want her to know. But he knows she must, and that he’d rather it come from him than anyone else.

Words remain unspoken as Aemond, drenched and disheveled, closes the distance between them. She hasn’t moved, holding onto him by the waist as he encloses his cold hands onto the back of her head, finding some semblance of comfort in the warmth of her hair. His wife's face softened, ready to welcome him, oblivious to his guilt and agony. In the silence that hung thick in the air, he braced himself for the storm about to engulf their world.

“You’re cold, Aemond. Let me find you something warm to wear,” she says. He doesn’t let her leave him; he will not let her leave him, ever. In heavy times like these, he’s always quite liked having her to hold - and right now, it seems like she understands it just as well as she always does. She is a part of him, made to be by his side.

She’s my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else’s!

He remembers the words. It was the night he had come to, after his eye had been slashed out. The marriage pact had been brokered in the aftermath, a compensation for the losses suffered. His nephew's tantrum and those venomous words had sown the seeds of a bitter possession, one that manifested in the subtle manipulative gestures that followed.

He had reveled in taunting Luke, relishing in the knowledge that he had triumphed over his nephew in more ways than one. Aemond had married his niece, a Princess of Targaryen blood, a strategic move with which he had alleviated the stain of bastardy off of her. He’d spend years taunting Luke over his wins, and he’d finally taken his life too. And now, his wife was about to cast him aside for it.

As he confessed to his wife, his eye, haunted by the accident, bore into hers, seeking understanding, pleading for empathy. The air grew dense, the chasm between them widening like an insurmountable abyss, a reflection of the irreversible consequences that now consumed them.

I need you to believe me.

In the flicker of candlelight, hope clung to Aemond like a shadow, a desperate desire for his wife to see beyond the tragedy. Yet, her features twisted in disbelief, mirroring the horror within him. He had not expected any less, but to see it happen is like a dagger twisting in his heart.

He’s losing her. He cannot lose her. As she tries to draw away, he lets desperation take over him. He would be damned if he let her slip away over something that he did not mean to happen.

His grip on her tightens to the point of choking, her eyes widening as she realizes that she is trapped. Not just in his hold, but in this marriage with a man that would stop at nothing, and is not even above killing family to survive. How long before he kills me too, she probably thinks.

He longs to assure her that he wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, but she is angry. She does not want to hear from him, so he will settle for her forced presence for now. Surely she’ll see. He cannot bear for her to look scared and fearful - she looks too much like her twin when she does. The last thing Aemond needs is to be reminded of him.

Her sobs soak through his already damp clothes. She tries to push him away, but he is like a never-ending nightmare - the more she tries, the tighter his hold becomes, refusing to give her the solitude she craves. He wants to, he is simply scared - what if she never chooses to welcome him again?

Why?

His touch, once a source of comfort, now repulses her, but he remains oblivious to her inner turmoil. In the midst of her agony, he lowers her gently onto the bed, attempting to offer solace through caresses and kisses, unaware that his touch has become a reminder, a brand of her brother's murderer. She refuses to believe that it was an accident, and he is further pained at the dark realization that he may not be above killing her if she tries to betray and leave him over this. After all, if he cannot have her, no one else will.

"Stay with me, wife. Stay with me, and you will be kept alive and safe.” Try to leave me, and you will not live to see the next sunrise.

The unspoken threat hangs in the air, a chilling promise that holds its own through his silence and her sobs. She closes her eyes, her unease palpable, a fear of the man she shares her bed and heart with. Aemond, too, watches her drift away, inch by agonizing inch, knowing he will have to learn to endure. He’ll have to, if her place is by Aemond’s side - and the day he married her, he’d solidified that.

What he won’t quite get used to is realizing how much like Luke she looks in fear, and how her eyes make it seem as though he is boring into his nephew’s instead. The resemblance unnerves him as he is taken back to the skies of Storm’s End in his mind once again - Luke had looked just as fearful for his life in his last moments. She is a reminder of what he’s done, of the half of her who is now lost.

How could he have expected that his own living, breathing wife would haunt him so?

THE LIBRARY IS CLOAKED IN A HUSHED DARKNESS as Aemond buries himself in his book, the words flying over his head as he tries to comprehend them. The oppressive silence of the night presses upon him, mirroring the strain in his heart. His worry for his wife weighs heavily on his mind, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. She has withdrawn from him, choosing silence over conversation, and the void between them grows deeper with each passing day.

In dreams, Luke sits atop his fledgling dragon, looking at him with a somber expression that makes him appear at peace. They are in the skies of Storm’s End again, only this time, neither of them is involved in a chase. They face each other, and each time, Luke talks, and Aemond seems to have no choice but to listen.

This did not have to happen, uncle, he would say. You could have let me live.

Every time, he wakes and resists the urge to slam his fists and pull his spun silver hair out as he wills the fragments of Lucerys to leave him be. He had initially blamed the shock, but even as he gains his bearings, the visions, dreams, and voices only seem to become louder, stronger, and sharper. It would seem that the more desensitized and ready to face war he becomes, the more his nephew insists on haunting him - reminding him that he is no war god, but simply a boy forced to grow into a man too soon.

This did not have to happen, uncle. You made a terrible mistake.

“Leave me in peace bastard, be gone!” He would scream as he slams his fist into the table and sends parchment flying.

Aemond's torment continues unabated, the ghost of Luke lingering in every corner of his life, a silent spirit that refuses to be exorcized. Late at night, as Aemond lies in bed, he catches glimpses of Luke's face in the shadows that dance on the walls, his eyes hauntingly fixed upon him. The weight of his gaze bears down on Aemond's soul, making sleep an elusive and tormenting escape.

In the courtyard, where the echoes of laughter resound, Aemond finds himself frozen in place, the air heavy with Luke's presence. The wind carries whispers that seem to be the soft murmur of Luke's voice, leaving Aemond questioning his sanity. He can almost feel Luke's hand on his shoulder, a touch that sends shivers down his spine and leaves him grasping at the emptiness.

During war strategy sessions, Aemond's mind plays cruel tricks on him. As he pores over maps of wargrounds and fortified keeps, Luke's reflection materializes beside him, scrutinizing terrains with an otherworldly knowledge. Aemond's fingers tremble as he traces the borders, half-expecting Luke to offer his uninvited and foolish insights, but the silence remains.

In the Great Hall, where feasts were once lively celebrations, Aemond finds himself unable to escape the ghostly presence. The sound of revelry - that Aegon insists upon as they celebrate Luke’s death - becomes a haunting cacophony, and he can almost hear Luke's laughter intermingling with the echoes of those who celebrate his demise. Aemond often finds himself raising his goblet in a futile toast, the wine swirling like a macabre dance, mirroring the torment within him.

Even in the solace of nature, where one would hope to find peace, Aemond can't escape the ghostly reminders. Trees cast shadows that resemble Luke's silhouette as Aemond and Vhagar fly overhead, and the chilly air seems to whisper secrets that he strains to understand.

As he closes the book, a phantom chill creeps into the room. A sense of unease claws at him as he tries to erase the recollections from mind, as though doing so would remove the occurrences altogether. The chilly night air outside intensifies, causing the candle flame to dance wildly before it sputters and extinguishes with a subtle hiss. Aemond dismisses the notion, attributing it to a mere draft, and turns away from the now darkened candle.

As he turns, his reflection in the ornate mirror catches his eye, but instead of his own weary countenance, the mirror unveils the ghostly image of Luke. Aemond's breath catches in his throat as he stares into the haunted eyes of his nephew. The dim light casts an eerie glow on his ethereal almost-figure, and the air in the library seems charged with an otherworldly energy. The weight of guilt and the eerie manifestations converged, leaving Aemond paralyzed in the haunting stillness of the library, caught between the realms of the living and the departed.

"This did not have to happen, uncle," Luke's voice carries a weight of unspoken sorrow, each word etched with the regret of an untimely departure. The ghostly echoes linger in the air, weaving through the ancient shelves of books that stand as silent witnesses to this mad exchange.

Aemond - his breath catching in his throat - struggles to find the right response. The weight of guilt presses upon him as he gazes into Luke, dazed. The regret, palpable and suffocating, threatens to consume him. Luke lingers, a reminder of all his irreversible choices. Caught in the grip of the moment, Aemond feels a lump forming in his throat. "I never wanted it to end this way," he whispers, his voice tinged with regret that he would never have admitted to feeling if he hadn't had to voice it out loud.

"You made a terrible mistake," Luke's voice echoes, the accusatory tone cutting through the oppressive silence of the library.

Aemond's eye meets the hollow gaze of his nephew. "I am aware, and I am burdened by it… by you." He confesses, the weight of guilt hanging heavily upon him. Memories of happier days in his marriage pass his mind, and he is once again left with the gnawing pain of not knowing if she will ever seek him out again. Is he going to be made to live with this chasm between them forever? How could she live without him?

And immediately, as thoughts of his sweet wife cross his mind, the image of Luke transforms into when he was much younger, his curls a lot more prominent and his face a bit more round. He says the words again, the same words that Aemond had heard him say about his marriage - and it is all he can do to not fall apart. "She's my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else's!" Luke's words resonated in the stillness, each repetition intensifying the haunting atmosphere.

The air crackles with unresolved tension as the words loop, a haunting refrain that refuses to fade. Each spoken phrase intertwines with the musty scent of ancient books, filling the room with a lingering sense of melancholy. As the words pass through the room, the library stands witness to the unfolding chaos. Dust motes, disturbed by the weight of the conversation, hang suspended in the air like transient memories. The ambient firelight, filtered through the stained glass windows, casts a surreal glow on the troubled face of a man who desperately tries to escape the consequences of his actions. The words create ripples in the stillness of the library, a transient disturbance.

His fists clench, and with a roar of frustration, he lashes out at the mirror. The impact shatters the haunting reflection, the fractured pieces falling like a cascade of broken memories. Aemond, panting and wild-eyed, stares at the shattered remnants of the mirror as drops of his blood stain them all an angry, bloody red.

ON A DARK, EERIE MORNING, Aemond decides he will seek refuge in combat training with Cole. The rhythmic clash of steel on steel promises a momentary escape from the haunting of his tormented mind. In these fleeting moments, he clings to the hope that the precision demanded by the dance of death will anchor his thoughts, keeping them disciplined and resolute.

But the training ground transforms, and the air shimmers with the echoes of unsheathed swords. In the midst of training, Luke materializes. The world blurs as Aemond's gaze locks onto his nephew's phantom form, the arrogance etched upon his face mirroring the smirk that haunts him. A tempest of confusion descends, and in the blink of an eye, he lunges forward, sword clashing against an illusion.

Reality slips away, and he finds himself ensnared in a mirage - a realm where the dead dance with the living, taunting them with all they have left. In the throbbing aftermath, the truth bears down on him like a relentless storm.

He killed him. The admission echoes in the hollow chambers of his conscience, overtaking him completely. The clash of blades morphs into a funeral dirge, and as he stands amidst the lingering consequences of his actions, the training ground transforms into a graveyard of memories. The air hangs heavy with the scent of remorse, and the phantom of Luke lingers, a silent witness to the torment that now possesses Aemond.

How he wills for his nephew to leave him alone. How he wishes he could turn back time, to a day when his wife was happy with him, when he was not the object of repulsion in her eyes. How he wishes she would welcome him with open arms again...

But why would she, uncle? Why would she, when you have slain her twin and taken me away from her? Her true other half?

He swings his sword once more, the blade cutting through the air with a desperate force. Each slash is a fervent plea, hoping that the slashes would tear up the ghost of his bastard nephew to ribbons that fly away with the wind. Even in death, his nephew is a stain on his life that refuses to let him live in peace. First his eye, now his wife.

Her place is by my side, uncle. And by killing me, you only reminded her of that.

The echoes of Luke's haunting words reverberate through the empty training ground, as Aemond battles not only the illusions before him but also the relentless demons within. The weight of his actions, the echoes of his nephew's voice, and the damning truth merge into a haunting symphony that accompanies each swing of his sword, forming an enemy much more dangerous than the Blacks that he’d sworn to kill.

The air is thick with the acrid scent of remorse. Aemond's movements become more desperate, as if trying to carve out a safe haven from the phantoms that encircle him. The blade slices through him, yet Luke's voice persists, an unyielding reminder of the havoc wrought upon not just his life but everyone’s around him.

Amidst his violent dance with illusions, Aemond longs for the solace that has eluded him since that fateful day at Storm's End. His sword becomes an extension of his anguish, a vessel through which he hopes to banish the nightmares that torment his every waking moment. The words resonate, mocking his attempts to escape the repercussions of his actions.

Aemond's grip tightens on the hilt of the sword, the struggle etched across his face as he battles the intangible. The illusion persists, refusing to be vanquished, a testament to the indomitable force of guilt and regret.

He lowers his sword and the ghostly echoes of Luke's voice linger. The training ground falls silent, a wave of unresolved grief as Aemond grapples with the realization that, even in death, his nephew remains an inescapable presence in the twisted tapestry of his existence.

Luke smiles once more, and Aemond slams the tip of his sword into the gravel, watching it fall to the side as he screams. Luke’s reflection is a sharp image on his blade, but when he looks up, the ground is empty, save for a worried mentor that watches him from the side. What must he do to gain solitude again?

The air in the training ground seems to thicken further as Aemond walks away to put his sword aside. The haunting memories of his past misdeeds cling to him like a shroud, and the distant echoes of Luke's words continue to reverberate in his mind. The once-familiar grounds feel like a journey through a desolate and forsaken landscape as he somehow registers the distant sounds of Cole calling out his name in worry.

As Aemond picks up the sheath, he senses an eerie silence enveloping the surroundings. The wind carries whispers of his regrets, and the atmosphere is charged with an unsettling energy. He looks up to see his wife standing at one of the windows, her gaze fixed on a seemingly endless point beyond the horizon. The pain of a fractured marriage weighs heavily on his shoulders, and his arrogance, once a shield, now crumbles under the weight of remorse.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. He reads the emptiness in her eyes, an emptiness that reflects the void he has created between them. Aemond's heart sinks, realizing that his mistakes have irreparably damaged the bond he once took for granted. The echo of Luke's haunting voice intertwines with the desolation that surrounds him.

She is his, but he does not want to have her like this; unwilling. Unable to withstand the haunting gaze, Aemond turns away. The clang of metal against metal resonates in the air as he sheathed his sword. The once-sharp blade now feels heavy, burdened with the weight of his own sins.

Before he leaves, compelled by an unseen force, Aemond looks up at the tower once more. But this time, it is not his wife who meets his gaze. Instead, the window frames the ghostly figure of Luke, staring back with fear etched on his face. Before he can further contemplate the vision, she is right there again, looking away. With the many sightings of Luke that he is subjected to, Aemond is not fazed anymore. But he is once more reminded of how similar his nephew and wife look in fear. He does not like seeing her this way.

A shiver courses down Aemond's spine as his gaze meets the ghostly visage of his nephew. Before he can avert his eyes, the apparition transforms into his wife, each manifestation carrying an accusing, sorrowful, and frightened expression. The visions alternate with unsettling speed, a haunting dance where Luke and his wife exchange places in the blink of an eye.

Aemond is unnerved by the rapidity with which the pair appears almost indistinguishable, their features blending into an eerie resemblance that sends chills through his soul. The accusatory eyes of Luke and the sorrowful gaze of his wife interchange with a disorienting fluidity, leaving Aemond trapped in a whirlwind of regret, fear, and a gnawing sense of the uncanny.

He walks away, steps definitive and terror-struck as he steps into the tower. The silence is deafening, broken only by the echoes of regrets and the distant wind. Aemond, haunted by the consequences of his actions, contemplates the surreal encounter. The armor-laden grounds, once a place of training, now serve as the stage for the haunting manifestations of his past. The ghost of Luke remains and so does his remembrance of a happier wife - who, for reasons he cannot fathom, reminds him of his biggest mistake. A constant reminder that redemption may be forever out of reach.

THE WORD HOLDS TOO MUCH EMOTION than he can bear to pour into his voice, but he says it all the same.

“Wife.”

As Aemond approaches her, he takes in the sight of her, a weak vision of House Strong's distinct features marked by dark hair and blue eyes. The vibrant happiness that once defined her has been replaced by weariness, one that seems to have settled into the very core of her being.

Her brown hair, once a shiny cascade, now hangs in loose tendrils, lacking the luster it once possessed. The dim light highlights her fatigue, revealing the toll that the sorrow of losing her brother has taken on her. The lines etched upon her face speak of countless nights spent wrestling nightmares and the strain of unanswered questions. Her eyes, once bright and expressive, now carry a perpetual sadness and seem to bear the weight of all her losses.

Does she grieve for them too? For their marriage? For him and all the time they’ve lost?

As Aemond gathers the courage to approach, he can't help but feel a pang of regret for the role he played in casting this shadow over the woman he once knew and still loves. The air around her seems heavy with declarations unmade, the room echoing with the quiet desperation of a fractured connection that he is grasping at to mend. Aemond, yearning for reconciliation, steels himself to bridge the gap that has grown between them, hoping to heal not just their relationship, but her as well.

She turns to look at him, the faint moonlight from the window hitting her face as she assesses the man that stands before her. Not her husband, no - Aemond knows how she looked at him when she loved him. Now she simply stares through him, understanding that it’s her brother’s killer that she is facing. He doesn’t know what hurts him more - her grief, or her cluelessness.

She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t walk away either, empowering him to take a few steps further. He reaches out to her and takes her hand, and smiles by the corner of his lips when she doesn’t grab her hand back.

“Are you… well?”

The idiocy of the question while he sees how tired she is does not escape him, but in all honesty, she has him tongue-tied. Aemond has missed her touch, and simply getting to hold her hand again has set a fire ablaze in him that he cannot seem to quell.

“As well as one can be, considering the circumstances.”

Time stands still as he takes in the sound of her voice, hoarse from not having said much in a long while. His mother tries with her, but even the Queen can’t make his grief-stricken wife budge - she would stay until she couldn’t, leaving his wife to her thoughts. What could she say to make things better anyhow? I’m sorry my son killed your brother? I’m sorry you’re caught in a war that is not of your making? I’m sorry you cannot look at your husband with anything but disdain?

He is rendered well and truly silent as he tries to measure her feelings, but she beats him to it as she speaks again - addressing the elephant in the room as quickly as she is able. “Are you here to apologize for murdering my brother?”

“It was an accident.”

He knows he shouldn’t be arguing, but what was he to do? He’d let the world speak cruelly of him and brand him a kinslayer, but he cannot have his own wife hate him so. His defense of his actions only seem to spur her further as she pushes her free hand into his chest, and he holds onto her hand tighter, unwilling to let her go like she wants to.

“Don’t demean yourself by justifying your venom, Aemond. You have hated Luke your entire life, and I’d rather you not make years of hatred seem like nothing in your pursuit to make a better name for yourself with me now. You’re well past that, valzȳrys.” She spits out the last word, making him feel hurt and horrendously out of place. husband

“You don’t believe me.”

“You killed him!”

She sobs, her tears making it very clear that he is a lot less in her eyes now than he used to be. He fights the urge to scream, to hold her by the shoulders and shake sense into her. He wants to remind her that he is not what she thinks him to be, and that he genuinely would never do anything to hurt her. But he has. And he is now facing the consequences of weighing the choices and choosing wrong. How he wishes he’d simply let Luke leave - Aemond had won, why didn’t he?

Her sobs echo in the strained silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken grievances. In a moment of raw vulnerability, she hits him square on his chest - each strike of her closed fists carrying the weight of accumulated sorrow, an outward manifestation of the tumultuous emotions that have festered within. Aemond, initially taken aback, winces.

Yet, even as the blows intensify, Aemond doesn't recoil. Instead, he envelops her in a desperate embrace, a gesture born not out of defiance but of a shared longing for understanding. The chamber becomes a battleground of emotions, the struggle to make sense of their fractured marriage playing out in light of all that has taken place.

“I want to hate you so much.” She says, the words choked out as her voice comes out muffled. Her lips are branded onto his chest as she mouths the words over the leathers he wears. “I want to. You’re a monster, that's all I see. I hate you so much.”

He pretends to not hear any of the damning words, for fear of hurting her in the anger that they rouse in him. She looks up at him, and all he wants is to crush her in his hold as he feels the anger creep up on him. But what she says next knocks the wind out of him, reminding him of why he has taken the trouble to come here to try and repair their marriage.

“But I love you all the same, and I don’t know if I hate you or the love I hold more.”

It is all the confirmation he needs. She is not out of reach just yet. Aemond, grappling with the weight of her words, feels a heavy tension in the air as her lips remain pressed against his chest, the muffled admissions still hanging in the space between them.

As she lifts her head, her eyes, red and swollen, meet his. Aemond sees the internal conflict etched into the lines of her face, torn between the desire to loathe him and the persistent, undeniable love that refuses to be extinguished. He remains silent, understanding the gravity of her admission, aware that any response from him could tip the fragile balance they are trying to restore.

In a moment suspended between resentment and longing, she tentatively reaches up to touch his face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jaw. Aemond, still holding back the urge to speak, feels the warmth of her touch, a gesture that speaks volumes. Then, as if guided by an invisible force, their lips meet in a hesitant, exploratory kiss. It is not a fiery embrace born out of passion; rather, it is a delicate connection, an attempt to bridge the emotional distance that has grown between them.

And then Luke surfaces, yet again.

He holds her tighter and kisses her deep, his tongue begging for entrance as he fights the ghost of Luke, staring right at him as he tries to make his wife forgive him. With every movement of their joined lips, he refutes his dead nephew’s words. He is hers, and she is his. From this day, till the end of their days.

Not Luke’s. His.

“Mine,” he mumbles in between kisses. Over and over until the blasted bastard’s spirit hears and lets him live. But why should he, when Aemond did not offer him the same courtesy? “You’re mine. No one else’s.”

“What?” He doesn’t answer her murmured question, not quite ready to make her privy to the haunting of his mind by her twin. He does not want to let him ruin this moment for them, not any more than he already has. His hands involuntarily find her skirts, pushing them up as he lowers his lips to kiss her neck.

The skin of her thighs are as soft as he’d remembered, his hands relishing in the touch as it disappears under her dress. She clings to him, a slight whine escaping her lips as his fingertips graze her skin, holding onto her backside as he lifts her up effortlessly, feet carrying them both and pushing her into the nearest wall. The kiss is never ending, and he’d not have it any other way.He presses into her, his hands holding her by the hip so tight that he’s probably bruising her, but he is too far gone to care. He needs to prove his nephew wrong, and with each moment he believes he is closer to vanquishing the ghost of the Strong pup from his consciousness.

“Take me,” she says. He hears her, but he is not quite sure he is listening. However, he does as she says. He has wanted this for long, having missed her touch for long, having missed her wanting him for long. He has wanted this for too long to do anything otherwise, and so he does. He growls as he bites her neck, while she unlaces his breeches and lets his cock spring free. The weeping tip is erect and stands proud, and he hopes she can see what she could have had in the time that she pushed him away. No matter, she’s here now.

He is taken aback by how tight she is, how warm and inviting she is despite it all. Her wetness engulfs him as he thrusts into her, making up for wasted time. With each thrust and with each moan that she lets out, he hopes and prays that their marriage will endure - but the phantom of his nephew is never ending as he refuses to fade. Aemond claims her as is his right, but as he does, he realizes his true goal is to simply remind the ghost in his head that she is his, and no one else’s.

“Mine.”

She leans into him, meeting his forehead with hers as her hair falls around them. Her panting breaths and heaving chest has him in a tight chokehold, and it almost keeps him from being haunted by her twin. Almost.

She peaks with a shuddering moan, and as she falls into him - limp and willing - he chases his pleasure. He brings her down to stand and mindlessly thrusts into her as he chants mine, mine, mine over and over again and when he does spill in her, he wants to be able to only experience pleasure, and nothing else.

Surely his mind is playing tricks on him, or Luke has simply taken over Aemond in a capacity far beyond his control - for he is certain he sees him in her eyes for just a moment, taunting him and reveling in his misery.

The memory hits him like whiplash, and it is all he can think of.

Aemond’s hands encircle her delicate throat, pressing her frail form against the unforgiving stone wall, as though he intends to merge her essence with its cold surface. The echoes of her labored panting reverberate in the air, a desperate struggle for breath, while he, consumed by an unrelenting force, cannot cease his actions.

Her blue eyes roll back in agony, and the veins on her neck stand out more prominently than usual, appearing blue in certain lights and green in others - details he might have discerned if not blinded by rage and madness.

He sees clearly, he always does. But in this moment, the intensity of his anger clouds his judgment, rendering him as blind as he is perceptive in moments of calm. Her pallor intensifies, and her hands futilely attempt to pry his fingers from her skin, seeking reprieve - he wants to let go, but he cannot. How could he?

His nephew has haunted him for years, much like the famed phantom of Harrenhal. Luke may have only been nine years of age when he took Aemond’s eye, but it has wielded a malevolent influence throughout his journey from boyhood to manhood. It has been the root cause for a lot of what he’s done - right from marrying her, to now killing her so she can join her brother wherever he is.

He needs to banish the haunting memory of his nephew from his tormented consciousness. He wants so badly for the words to stop playing in his head, weaving a harsh thread of thoughts that he cannot seem to find his way out of. Her life hangs by a thread, one that he stretches taut until she snaps.

As much as he resents acknowledging it, perhaps Lucerys was right. He isn't killing her; he is merely guiding her to where she belongs, by his side. “Aemond…” Her plea is feeble, choked, and nearly devoid of a voice. “Husband, please…” He hears his sweet wife’s last words, but he refuses to listen.

As the light in her eyes slowly dims, he watches as she struggles to keep her eyes open. Her hold on his choking hand loosens and loses its fight, and she gives in. It is almost as though they are back to how they were, in the days when they were happier, and his hands had been around her neck in much more sensual moments - always just enough, never as tight and deadly as this.

She looks almost peaceful in this state, in the last moments where she’s accepted that she has outrun her course. He cannot have her this way, does not want her this way - where she fears him and what he has truly become; where every moment that she looks at him with mixed emotions, he is reminded of his nephew and the day he died.

Cursed bastard.

Her once kind smiles, the very essence that once distinguished her from her twin, have undergone a haunting transformation. Her face has since been etched with an unspoken terror, a fear that clings to her like a shroud of impending doom. Every glance she casts seems laden with an eerie anticipation, as if she is poised to deliver a fatal blow.

In those harrowing moments, the resemblance between them becomes a grotesque mirror, reflecting a likeness he cannot bear to acknowledge. The weight of her presence - his presence - is suffocating, an unsettling reminder of his own recklessness. He cannot afford the luxury of a wavering mind, not in the midst of a relentless war that demands his unwavering focus.

This connection has become an unbearable burden, stoking a fury within him that knows no bounds. All he craves is the dissolution of his nephew's haunting memory, an obliteration that refuses to comply with the confines of his subconscious. Instead, it lingers, an ominous specter that shadows his every waking moment, intensifying the horrors that plague him day and night.

And then, her breathing ceases.

The chilling realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave, dragging him into the abyss of his own making. The haunting echoes of his nephew's voice, the relentless specter that had tormented his every waking moment ever since the fateful day at Storm’s End, had finally ceased. However, the newfound silence is shattered by the ghastly thud of her lifeless form crumpling to the floor, unleashing an eerie force that wraps its tendrils around his soul.

She seems liberated from the oppressive shackles of fear and her lifeless face descends into an eerie calm that chills the marrow of his bones. In death, she appears more tranquil than any moment he witnessed in life since her twin’s passing. The grotesque disparity between her and Lucerys’ final moments sends a shiver down his spine, the air thick with the stench of regret and the palpable weight of his transgressions.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out to touch her slowly chilling forehead, pressing a sorrowful kiss upon it. The chamber becomes suffocating, the air thickening with an oppressive calm that clings to the shadows. In that macabre stillness, a chilling certainty takes hold — Lucerys will no longer haunt him, but the cost is etched in the lines of his lovely wife’s lifeless face.

As the reality of his irreversible choice seeps into his bones, a haunting question claws at the edges of his conscience: Was the liberation from the phantom of his nephew's influence worth the mad ending of his wife's life? The Seven bear witness to another one of his kinslaying crimes and the heavy silence that follows - a testament to the darkness that now envelopes his soul, as the shadows of the hearth themselves seem to recoil from the stench of blood that stains the very fabric of the air.

Now the twins are together in death, by each other’s side.

Aemond is free.

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homoquartz · 4 months ago

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ok i have made the same post like 50 times but i think it really sets up the motivations and dynamic of the boys in the opening sequence to have charles (!!) be the one to express anxiety, not of edwin going back to hell, but of being forced to split up

let me break down (both meanings): our introduction to Death is that she is incredibly beautiful, incredibly kind and gentle. the man who was drooling blood in a blind and violent rage is returned to his natural state in her presence. she takes the time to recite poetry with him and take him someplace peaceful. the shadow of wings in the window and the blue light imply a heaven, or something akin.

and the boys are hiding from THAT! they are hiding from this lovely, caring woman who could take them to such a pleasant place. and why?

because, charles says, she will take them away from each other.

the opening scene intends to lay out the stakes of the show. that's its purpose. and bear in mind, the viewer doesn't know edwin is destined for hell yet. what we are told in the first 5 minutes is this:

they would rather be as they are now, together, than whatever paradise she might take them to. they are terrified of her.

after this, the threat of hell is immediate and looming the entire season, up until the very final scene. but it is NOT the primary motivator of the dead boy detectives.

#dead boy detectives #mental illness hourrrsss

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bvidzsoo · 9 months ago

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Preying on you tonight

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: werewolf!Song Mingi x vampire!female reader

◯ Warning: smut, cursing, alcohol consumption, violence, bullying (nothing extreme), saying wet dog as an insult, mentions of injury and blood ◯ Word count: 29k ◯ Rating: mature, nc-17 ◯ Genre: supernatural creatures!au, academy!au, werewolf!au, vampire!au, enemies to lovers!au, mates!au ◯ Summary: Nocturnal Parade was a safe haven for creatures like yourself, vampires, and for creatures like Mingi, werewolves. After a misfortunate event, you come to hate the other kind with your whole being despite having to live in unity and peace. What happens after a drunken night spent with your enemy, a night which changes everything for forever?

A/N: Hello, lovelies!! Surprise, another Mingi oneshot! (because the brainrot is at its peak and I'm a Mingtis *cries*) I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading the story:

✦ 1. I did a different take on vampires and both werewolves here, let's say, it's my version of these creatures mixed with all the lore I know about them.

✦ 2. Please, please, please, imagine Halazia Era Mingi while reading this!!! And Deja Vu Era Yunho!

✦ 3. This is important! For the sake of the story, the siblings are all called Song, after Mingi's surname! (I didn't mention it in the story, but Mingi's fur is white!)

✦ 4. Yes, I used Katherine's surname because I have an unhealthy obsession with her and because Y/N's character was partially inspired by her. (my TVD lovers know)

Also, I feel like I accidentally made a lot of puns in the story, so don't mind me lol. I think that's all for now, and I'm veery excited to hear your thoughts about this story, so your feedback is very welcomed! I hope you enjoy it, and happy reading now! ^^

Taglist: @orshii @sharksandminhos @cheolliehugs @dollce-exe @kikiskz

◯ You can now find Yunho's story here! ^^

Creatures like ourselves needed a safe haven away from the looming, close-minded, humans roaming the streets of cities, constantly pondering whether they’d fall victim next in our sharp claws. Their view of us was rather cartoonish, and disfigured, and we could only thank all those made-up legends for scaring humans away from peculiar creatures, like ourselves. We were nowhere close to being the scary monsters parents warn their children of in the bedtime stories they tell them, however, we could be dangerous if provoked and forced into an uncanny situation.

Communities have been formed a long time ago, altogether with a treaty, in hopes of making peace between the supernatural creatures roaming the same Earth as humans. However, most still didn’t take kindly of us, and therefore, we were forced out of their circles, made to fend for ourselves on our own. Laws weren’t abiding at first, quite deceitful when it came to the rights night creatures had, but after the Raging Revolution, everything changed. Humans became less animus towards us and finally started acknowledging us, step by step setting up things for us, allowing us to join their circles, of course, in a restricting and well-supervised manner. Therefore, after a party has been formed in order to defend our rights and fight for the future of the night creatures, a clergy was founded with it simultaneously, trying to prove to the humans that we were just like them, albeit a little rough and more menacing. We had the same beating hearts, the same iron and hot blood gushing through our veins; we weren’t indestructible either, and most of all, we needed the same resources as them. With the creation of the clergy, it had seemed that the humans had finally settled down, accepting us fully into their society. They remained cold to us, but they weren’t so rude and threatening anymore about their ideologies and beliefs.

This gave us the opportunities to finally meddle with them, to freely follow their footsteps, establishing a lifestyle similar to theirs. We were allowed inside their cities and towns, offered jobs and given permission to step inside the same buildings as them. Society was finally progressing after decades of oppression and pain, the night creatures were somewhat finally free from the clutches of their oppressors, living the lives our ancestors have fought so hard for. However, that did not mean that everything was joint, or that you didn’t have the choice of living secluded in the safety of your own kind. My parents have chosen to raise me up far away from the rambunctious big cities, instead settling in a heavily protected town, infused by only night creatures on the outskirts of the Haunted Woods, South from anything lively. But just because humans were scarce here, did not mean that our lives were quiet and boring. It was far from it. My life was anything but boring, childhood filled with mischief and misbehavior as I was always allowed to do whatever I wanted.

Perhaps it was the privilege of having extremely rich parents, being the descendent of a bloodline so ancient that I would get a headache trying to remember every family member that was still alive whenever we would gather for our annual new year celebratory balls. Raised in lavish and puff, I was content with the way things were, and I had no intentions of moving out of Nocturnal Parade anytime soon, if ever at all. My family had settled down here in 1250, and only those curious and adventure seeking ventured far from our homeland, sometimes returning with the promise of never wanting to join the human joint cities, with others never returning, calling our safe haven a lie and depraved of everything else the ‘real’ world had to offer us. To my parents joy, I had no such intentions, content with the Petrova family’s fortune and assets, rightfully so wanting to join the family business.

The Petrova bloodline had been around far before records were even made of humankind, they have survived plagues, wars, treason and disasters, always returning stronger and stronger, their names present in history books, marking historic events and building a community that welcomed any and all kinds of night creatures, not once discriminating anyone. There wasn’t an anarchy when it came to us, creatures, everyone was equal. That’s what the clergy preached and instilled in each one of us, however, I couldn’t help but harbor hard feelings against one kind, werewolves, more exactly. I most probably wouldn’t have had any problems against them, but an unfortunate event seemed to mark me for life, and I would carry it on with myself until the end of Earth. There was nothing and no one that could change my mind about those wild, feracious, and obnoxious animals. Even if the clergy said hating one kind meant being just the same as the humans were once towards us, I couldn’t help myself. Hating someone was not a crime, and with the deep webbed hatred in myself, not even the clergy could stop me from sending glares at those wet dogs, whispering threats at them, or making their days a living hell at our Academy.

Wilden Pine Academy was a place for Vampires and Werewolves; however, the occasional Fae and Druids would make their appearance as well. Nocturnal Parade was famous for its large population of Vampires and Werewolves alike; therefore it came as no surprise that the Academy closest to our town was littered with both kinds. A four-hour drive, deep into the Pinecone Forest, and you’d be presented with our majestic Academy, its towers high and dark for vampires not keen of sunlight, and fields widely expanding, perfect for the ever loud and restless werewolves. This place was made to bring everyone together, to strengthen the bond between the two kinds, their animosity against each other quite famous, well-known even between mere humans. And it seemed that Wilden Pine Academy did an extraordinary job at bringing vampires and werewolves to a truce, to control the deep-rooted hatred for each other, and to forge an alliance that became nondestructive over the decades as both remained on the front, fighting for the night creatures’ rights and lives. Not that those stupid history books could dictate how I would feel about such wild creatures.

The Academy was serene, with eager and passionate professors all around, spreading their knowledge about anything supernatural or quite mundane. Our curriculums were closely constructed in a way that would allow us to learn everything we needed to know about ourselves and our history, but also about the humans and their atrocious self-destructive stories. The grounds were separated in two, left wing for the vampires, and for the occasional fae folk, right wing for the werewolves and their little druid friends that would show up uninvited. Of course, there were more common grounds than one could possibly imagine here at Wilden Pine Academy, the academics following the clergy’s words like the Holy Grail. Everyone must be united at all times, discrimination between kinds to be severely punished, following the laws of the Night Creatures Rule Book. One of these said common grounds was quite unfortunately the study hall, which was open at all times, and warmly welcomed anyone who wished to catch up on their projects and homework. The separation between these two kinds was only ever present in my own mind, casting a glance upon the vast study hall, you’d realize that nobody cared who sat next to them as long as they didn’t bother them. Vampires next to werewolves were a common sighting, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stay in their vicinity for longer than three minutes. And even like that, I was being generous. I always made sure to pick the furthest table from those animals in the study hall, and was rather thankful that they weren’t stupid enough to approach my table. It didn’t take two brain cells to know I hated werewolves, and therefore, for most part they left me alone. Not that anyone had anything to say against a Petrova, now Bae, having changed our family name after the revolution due to some legal issues amongst the humankind.

People who usually came to the study hall did so because they wished to have a relaxed ambience around themselves, not quite as restrictive as the library as here you could eat, drink, and chat with your friends freely, without anyone giving you the stink eye or the librarian breathing down your neck to reprimand you. With that being said, the study hall had a friendly atmosphere made for the Academy’s students to be able to study in peace, which presented to be harder and harder to do with seconds ticking by. Of course, when a certain five wet dogs would show up, the quiet and peace wouldn’t even last for one second. Despite their table being towards the middle of the large room, and my own table towards the back, close to the large bookcases, their loud howls and laughter carried over. It blew my mind how nobody even as much as glanced their way or said anything to quieten their table down. Everyone seemed content with the ruckus they were creating, and it made my blood boil even more that I couldn’t be as unbothered as the rest of the creatures around me. But perhaps if it was a bunch of vampires being rascals, I also wouldn’t have batten an eyelash in their direction, but this was the Song family. A family I hated with my whole being, the five creatures having risen from Hell itself, marched all the way to Wilden Pine Academy to reign chaos upon its once peaceful grounds. I never thought a body could yield such strong emotions, until I met the Song boys, and girls as well, their disgusting scent alone driving me up the wall. Especially of one certain person, who smelled like an actual wet dog, mixed with fresh grass that would make anyone gag. His scent was just as atrocious as his existence, making me grit my teeth whenever I was in the vicinity of him. Which happened more often than I would have liked it to.

The Song twins, unfortunately, had been part of my life ever since I was eight years old. Not by choice, of course. If I could’ve, I would’ve eradicated their existence a very long time ago. The Song’s weren’t native to Nocturnal Parade, they have moved into our safe haven just before our first academic year would start, coating the town in chaos like never seen before. They were well-known for being loud and eccentric, their parents just as much of a bother as their children were. And there were five of them, five horrific werewolves, howling and cackling every time you’d cross their paths. Song Mingi and Song Yunho were not your identical twins, however, they did seem to resemble each other in more ways than others. Both were tall, boisterous, loud, and hyperactive to a point where once Yunho had to be sedated as he wouldn’t stop running around the fields before curfew. Despite Yunho being the louder twin, Mingi wasn’t far behind, his personality more irritating than the older twin’s one. He never failed to drop whatever he carried in his hands, bumping into anything possible as if his coordination was off—not that I had expected anything more from a filthy dog. And despite being similar, they were quite easily very different when it came to their styles. Yunho, ever colorful and peculiar when choosing his attire, his black hair highlighted with fiery red highlights, nails always painted either turquoise or yellow, and shoes mismatching for whatever mysterious reason that I really wasn’t curious about. Mingi, however, only wore dark clothes, with the occasional odd white colored graphic t-shirts—or that one funky white jacket with a bunny on it—always heavily littered with silver jewelry around his neck, wrists, and fingers, his nails never bare, always tinted black or chrome silver.

Both Yunho and Mingi had a phase, back when we were all fourteen, when they have started heavily smudging their eyes with black kohl eyeliner, always looking like pandas after we had to run around the flower fields while it rained heavily. It seemed that only Mingi stuck with the makeup, Yunho opting to experiment with different lip colors, weirdly sticking to a dark purple or light pink one for most times. I never allowed myself to ponder too much about their preferences, the twins a sighting everyone found odd at times, perhaps even intriguing as they seemed to have personalities that was liked by the masses, giving me a headache whenever I saw creatures flocking around them, vampires and werewolves alike, desperate for some attention from them.

But if having the Song twins a constant in my life until I would graduate from the Academy was bad, I really had no idea what more this family had in store for me. With the appearance of their younger brother, Wooyoung, I finally learned what absolute and utter chaos and madness meant, the boy a spawn of Satan himself, sent to destroy anything in its wake. The boy was a werewolf, yet he cackled like an old, evil, witch, his dark eyes staring into yours as if he wanted to suck your soul out. And he was cocky, way too confident in himself, perhaps a defective trait he learned from Mingi, who wasn’t lacking in the ego department either. And when I thought I was finally safe of that horrible family, two more additions of the family showed up at the Academy, two girls, their sisters. Yeri, who was three years younger than the twins and one year younger than Wooyoung, was a deceitful girl. Her angelic face had fooled everyone at first, sweet smile and soft giggles quickly making everyone fall for her charm naively. But that girl was another spawn of Satan, the biggest troublemaker dated at the Academy so far, every professor’s nightmare from the very first class she attended, successfully blowing up a frog to everyone’s horror, only giggling when brought to the Principle’s office, saying that she hadn’t seen the instructions in her book and decided to improvise. And if the family wasn’t complete already, their youngest sibling also showed up at the Academy, and she was the oddest of them all. Dahyun never really spoke until she felt the need to. Her face a constant mask of blankness, lips downturned and eyebrows furrowed. She’d hold eye contact with anyone who looked her way, and smile almost threateningly when they averted their eyes disturbed by her emotionlessness. She often whispered to herself and, to my utmost horror, I was unfortunate enough to catch her speaking to the air once I was out in the fields with a fae friend, whispering about some dead animal she had found a day ago. Three were rascals and two were possible future murderers, weren’t they a wonderful family?

My fist tightened, fingers flexing around the pencil I held in my hand, lower lip sucked in as my glare settled upon the loud Song table, blood boiling, and ears ringing from oversensitivity as I struggled blocking out their voices. Wooyoung had been cackling like a madman for over thirty minutes now, Yunho also constantly giggling as they were hunched over a book, scribbling in it furiously and snickering every time Yeri tried to see what they were doing. Mingi seemed to be the only one doing his homework, however, he would contribute to the mess by his own loud, irritating, laughter, unless he was pestering Dahyun about eating something, throwing chips at his younger sister’s face. The girl sat unmoving in her chair, staring ahead at one fixed point, her eyes slowly shifting onto Mingi every so often, almost smiling at him when Mingi was too busy furrowing his eyebrows as he probably struggled solving his homework. There was a knock against the wooden table, and my eyes finally snapped away from the distasteful scene, falling on my fae friend.

“Your homework won’t solve itself, Y/N.” Krystal, the Fae with undying beauty and velvety voice, said with a chuckle. Perhaps she was the least judgmental in our four-member friend group, always kind to others, and way too understanding.

“I can’t work when it’s so loud in here,” I said with a sigh, twirling my pencil around my fingers as I looked at my unfinished potion for Alchemy disheartened.

“Try blocking them out,” Krystal said with an encouraging smile as she patted my cold hand twice.

“Easy for you to say,” Seulgi hissed, turning back in her seat to glare at the Song family, “when you don’t have heightened hearing.”

Krystal chuckled, eyeing Irene for a second, who seemed unbothered as she sat next to Seulgi, head buried in her book, “Irene seems pretty unbothered.”

“That’s because I am.” Irene’s voice was lighter, a little on the shrill side, yet strong as she snapped. She looked up, amused for a second, before she placed her hand on Seulgi’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. I watched the action without saying much, but feeling suspicious of them lately.

“They’ve been in here for more than two hours and haven’t shut up for once, for fuck’s sake.” Seulgi gritted through teeth, the only one in our friend group who shared a hatred with me towards the Song family. Perhaps a failed relationship and broken promises lead to her current emotions towards the five people, but I wasn’t one to pry if she didn’t want to talk about it.

“You tell me,” I muttered, eyes falling back on their table, Mingi leaned over it and shoving chips forcefully in Dahyun’s mouth as she had opened it, only to bite down hard on Mingi’s thumb. Perhaps that was funny as I chuckled, trying to mask it with a huff, until the first spawn of Satan suddenly jumped up on the table, making my jaw drop.

“Ahoy, everyone get on board!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, finally everyone in the study hall looking at Wooyoung, “This ship is about to sail outside, who’s with me?!”

To my utmost disgust, there were people who cheered and suddenly approached the Song family’s table, jumping up and making sounds inadequate for such setting. They were howling, like dogs. I took in a deep breath, but couldn’t control my rage as it finally burst from all the irritation I had bottled up since the morning class I had to share with the twins, forced to sit next to Mingi by the professor, “Okay, that’s it. I need to leave.”

My friends looked at me, and Seulgi nodded as she started packing up, “Fuck, same. I’m about to bite Yunho’s throat off.”

Irene quirked an eyebrow at her friend, but said nothing, just chuckled. My hands shook as I pushed my chair back forcefully, making it screech loudly against the floor, yet the ruckus Wooyoung had created was overbearing, and nobody even heard my chair falling to the floor. I grabbed the two books I had picked in order to inspire me for my potion, and turned to head towards the bookcases. Krystal had an apologetic smile on her face as she raised one hand, “I think I will stay; I still need to finish my project.”

“That’s alright.” Irene said with a reassuring smile, her stoic expression instantly melting, “I also want to read some more. Should we head to a smaller table?”

“Sure!” Krystal grinned and both girls started packing their things as Seulgi and I made eye contact, her cheeks red.

“Do you mind if I wait for you outside?” Her voice sounded strained and I shook my head no, knowing that she was on the verge of snapping. Not that I was far off from doing the same. I picked my previously fallen chair up, and placed it back on its feet before taking off towards the very last bookcase, the returning band being placed there. Despite knowing where I took my books from, I found it only logical to place them on the return band, hence why it was put there. I bypassed a vampire staring at one of the bookshelves, almost crashing into them when they stepped backward, thankful to my quick reflexes as I avoided colliding into them. I gave them a glare as I continued walking, hurrying when the cheers of Wooyoung and those having joined him had gotten louder, making my jaw tighten as I sucked in another deep breath, ears ringing from the commotion. There were some days when I woke up overstimulated and sensitive to everyone around me. Even the softest of sighs could make my ears ring and bring forward a migraine, and today was one of those days, and the Song family made sure to worsen my symptoms with their loud antics.

I finally reached the band at the end of the bookcase, and neatly placed the two books on top of other ones, to be sorted and placed on their respective shelves later. A particular loud shriek made my body tense as it felt like a vein was close to popping in my forehead, head thumping, forcing my eyes squeezed shut. I took a second to regain my composure, gulping hard, and inhaling deeply, almost choking on the wet dog smell invading my senses. It took everything in me not to gag, and as I turned to speed walk out of this wrenched place, I crashed harshly against another hard body. They gasped loudly, books tumbling to the floor. As the smell got prominent, I jumped back upon realizing it was Mingi who had ran into me. My eyes instantly narrowed, piercing on Mingi as he looked at his feet almost defeated, five books laying scattered around him. His blonde hair with fading red at the ends was long, and in a half-up ponytail, with the front strands framing his sharp features, his thick eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me.

“Hey, next time—”

“Watch where you go, dog.” I hissed, voice low and threatening, “I’m sick of you always stumbling into me.”

Mingi’s eyebrows raised in disbelief and he scoffed, “You crashed into me, Y/N, not me into you.”

“Right,” I snapped, rolling my eyes, “because I could have possibly seen there’s someone behind me to purposefully run into them.”

“Don’t you have heightened senses for a reason?” Mingi mocked as he crouched down to gather his books, making me look down at him, glare furious.

“All my heightened senses are good for when you’re around is to smell the wet dog stench you carry with yourself.” I scoffed, quirking an eyebrow at Mingi as he paused for a second, raising his head slowly to look at me. His expression seemed to suddenly shift, eyes narrowing as he let the books stumble to the floor again.

“Excuse me?” His deep voice dropped even lower, raspy in its undertone as his jaw clenched.

“I’m sick of you and your inept family always creating a scene wherever you are,” I snapped, leaning down slightly as Mingi’s eyes slowly seemed to darken, pupils blown wide, “Always screaming, shouting, acting like delinquents, bothering absolutely everyone around yourselves.”

Mingi stood, looming over my form with his tall body, lips pulled into a sneer, “Little miss princess wants to teach me and my inept family some etiquette, when she can’t even bring her books back to their own places?”

I gulped, scoffing as I felt my blood pumping faster, harder, when Mingi’s eyes suddenly flashed their menacing orchid color. His wolf was probably fighting to come forward, but it looked like Mingi was trying to suppress it, “This band is here for a reason, Mingi. Lord knows you and your inept family need that etiquette lesson. Perhaps it would finally give you some sense, perhaps you’d finally realize you have no place at Wilden Pine Academy and Nocturnal Parade—”

My heated words were cut off by a loud gasp as I was slammed into the bookshelves behind me in the blind of an eye, hard wood digging into my spine as a strong grip curled around my left bicep tightly, claws almost piercing my skin. Mingi’s eyes shone a bright orchid, and his fangs suddenly grew as he hissed lowly, lowering his head to the point that it was in my face, mere centimeters away from my own. My body reacted instantly, freezing in shock, starting to tremble as my heart thumped wildly in my chest. I tried to fight the flashbacks, but the stronger Mingi’s grip got, the more frozen to my spot I was. I could picture Mingi shifting into his werewolf form, easily ripping me in half, the Petrova bloodline lost without me. We could only reproduce once.

“Mingi—” I gasped when I felt claws pressing into my flesh, making my eyes widen greatly. All of my heightened senses and strength was forgotten in that moment, body trembling uncontrollably. I was frozen to my spot, shaking eyes boring into Mingi’s orchid ones, throat constricting to the point I couldn’t breathe anymore. I struggled in gathering myself, my trauma response stronger than my will to push Mingi off myself and rip him in two. I was good under pressure, I rarely panicked and I prided myself for being level-headed, until a werewolf had me in its clutches, ready to end my life. I tried to take a ragged breath, and Mingi suddenly growled, something warm trickling down my upper arm. Frozen in terror, I could see this moment would be my demise, until suddenly voices flooded my ears, sounding rapid and panicked.

“Get him off, Yunho!” Still in a haze, mind jumbled, I realized slowly that Irene was shrieking next to me, suddenly cradling my head against her chest, but my eyes were on Mingi’s, who was trembling as well, but in anger.

“Mingi!” Yunho exclaimed, grabbing his twin’s face in both hands, yanking his head to the side as Mingi and I finally broke eye contact, “Release her, right now.”

Mingi didn’t budge for another minute, and I gasped when I felt my skin painfully pierced by his claws, but then it all suddenly stopped as Mingi jumped backwards, eyes wide as he looked around frantically. His orchid eyes flicked back to their usual warm brown tone, fangs still poking through his plump lips. Without Mingi caging me against the bookshelves, I crumbled into Irene’s arms, hyperventilating as my bicep pulsed, the painful sting clouding my vision with tears.

“Go away.” Yunho’s voice was stern as I squeezed my eyes shut, thankful for Irene’s comforting embrace as she quietly shushed me, petting my head. She was smaller than me, but her body was strong and firm, holding me captive in a motherly manner against herself. I took deep breaths, taking notice of Mingi’s scent disappearing, only Yunho’s remaining, who didn’t stink as badly of wet dog like Mingi.

“I’m sorry,” Suddenly, I felt Yunho’s eyes on me, and I gently pushed Irene away, wiping at my face, “The full moon is close and it’s always hard for Mingi to control his anger around this time. I’d like to apologize on his behalf—”

“Stay away from me!” I snapped, hissing at Yunho menacingly, my eyes shining scarlet, “All of you filthy dogs!”

Abandoning my things, which were least of my worries now, I stormed away from everyone in the study hall, out through the wide doors, having a bewildered Seulgi race after me upon noticing me. My body shook as I carefully wrapped my right hand around my bicep, biting my lower lip as it started trembling, the faded old bite mark suddenly pulsating violently, memories of that repressed day resurfacing, feeling that excruciating pain all over again. I paid no mind to the blood trickling down my arm as Seulgi fussed behind me panicked, asking question after question. I ignored her and sped up, wanting to be alone for the time being. For at least until I calmed down and repressed those awful snarls, sharp fangs and thick fur flashing behind my eyes. I hated werewolves with a passion, and nothing could change my mind about them.

Hours later, I have finally calmed down enough to leave my room and head to the canteen designed for Vampires to do my daily feed as I have skipped it this morning, having accidentally slept in. The hallways were warmly lit up, yet rather cold as the breeze wandered inside through the small cracks in the stone walls or through the opened windows. Night had fallen upon us, and everyone was finishing up their business as curfew came closer and closer. Thankfully there was no sign of the Song family through my journey to the canteen and back to my room, I don’t think I would’ve been able to even as much as look at them without wanting to rip their heads off. I had to bandage my arm after cleansing it thoroughly, since the wound was made by a werewolf it would take a day or two to fully heal, no matter how little the injury. I knew everyone heard about our little scene in the study hall as I was given inquisitive looks, only for me to ignore them as I held my head even higher, glaring at anyone who wouldn’t look away after the first poisonous look I sent their way.

Irene wasn’t in our room when I returned, but there was a small note on her bed saying that she would return late, and that I shouldn’t stay up and wait for her as she had taken our key to the room. She never explained where she disappeared to so late in the night, and I never bothered to ask, knowing well that Irene wouldn’t tell me anything, unless she was certain of whatever was going on between her and the suspected person I had in mind. That being Seulgi. Ever since her and Yunho broke up, Irene’s been breathing down her neck and it wasn’t difficult to spot the subtle changes in their friendship. The lasting stares, the subconscious touches, always looking for the other in overcrowded areas. The signs were there, but perhaps I was just reading too much into things. Seulgi needed someone who’d fully support her after the break up as she was struggling with accepting the way things ended between her and Yunho as he seemed quite unphased by it all. It was a saddening view, to see Seulgi suffer so much, mop around all day and cry even at the mention of said werewolf—it only made me hate the Song twins more. They only brought trouble and headache wherever they went, breaking hearts left and right.

I sighed as I opened the window to let some fresh air in, noticing a small letter placed on the windowsill outside. Upon noticing the emblem binding the envelope together, I quickly reached for it and delicately opened it, being presented with my mother’s fancy handwriting, just like I have expected. I sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes running over her words as the black ink seemed fresh still.

Dear Y/N,

I hope you are doing well and this letter finds you before Irene can get her hands on it, I know the last one she burned just to force me to call you. But you know I like old fashioned things, my dear, cellphones are simply not up for my taste.

To get to the point, I hope you haven’t forgotten about Parents’ Day approaching rapidly, but in case you have, here’s your reminder to start getting ready in time, daughter. If you have unpacked your luggage yourself, you must have seen the ruby red dress I have slipped inside it. I hope to see you wearing it, dear, it would bring out your pretty eyes so well. And do not forget, your makeup shouldn’t be too harsh, it gives your father a heart attack each time he sees you wearing it.

Granma and grandpa are doing well, actually, they have gone on a trip to the Maldives, said something about buying a vacation house over there so that we can stay there over the summer. Doesn’t that sound exciting? Aunt Lannie and Uncle Jaehyun would be joining us as well. It’s been quite a while since you have seen your cousins, right? How exciting!

I shall be wrapping this letter up now. I look forward to seeing you very soon, my dear, and don’t forget to be on your best behavior until then. I’d hate to get a phone call from the Principal, again, about you setting on fire one of the Song children. Mother and father loves you much!

Yours sincerely,

Petrova Yurim

I chewed on my bottom lip as I finished reading my mother’s letter, closing the window and sauntering over to my bed, dropping down on it as my grip tightened around the letter. Parents’ Day was in two days and I was far from ready for it. I have seen the dress in my luggage my mother was talking about, but I sincerely would’ve preferred not wearing it as it was a rather old dress, very out of trend as of right now. But I knew my mother’s heart would break if I didn’t wear it for her, and I closed my eyes as I fell back on my bed, wondering how I could modify it a little bit so that it would fit my style. My choice of makeup was never ‘heavy’, but my father never seemed to understand that a little eyeliner, mascara, and red lips didn’t mean the Earth was ending.

My parents have always been strict and quite demanding when it came to their preferences, rarely lenient about whatever I wanted for myself. After a while, I just learned to go with the flow and follow their teachings and words, knowing very well that once I was away from them I could do as I wished. Like setting on fire one of the Song children. To be fair, it was an accident, and it happened one year ago when we were in Alchemy class, the only class where pure chaos would ensue each time without any doubt. Yunho and Mingi had been sitting in front of me and Seulgi, loudly giggling and chatting about something completely irrelevant to our lesson, distracting me, which lead to a mild arsoning incident. I had dropped the match I had just lit up when Yunho suddenly cheered loudly, the match falling on Mingi’s chair, the long fluffy cardigan he had been wearing catching on fire. At first, I thought it would just stop burning—not one of my wisest thoughts—but it only flamed up, making Mingi yelp and Yunho shout in panic as they jumped up from their seats, frantically wrestling Mingi out of his cardigan before it could do any real damage to the werewolf. It was a rather hilarious sight, and instead of panicking and trying to help them put out the small fire, I sat cackling and high-fiving Seulgi…which, of course, caught the attention of our Professor, thus I had no choice but to admit my mistake to the Principal. I wasn’t punished for it, but Yunho would growl at me for a whole month if we were close enough to each other that his scent bothered me, and Mingi would just glare, keeping away for the most part. It had been the best month of my life; I wish it would’ve lasted for longer.

Suddenly the door of my room slamming open made me jump, alerting me to my surroundings as I had been lost in thought, unaware of an approaching Seulgi. She skipped inside with a huge grin on her face, dumping her bag on the floor and jumping on my bed, almost crushing my knee. I yelped and rolled over just in time, which apparently was an open invitation for Seulgi to cuddle me. I grumbled as her arms wrapped around my middle, her head nuzzling against my back with a giggle.

“What are you doing?” I asked with an amused huff, trying to pry her arms off me.

“I need some love,” Seulgi muttered, kicking my leg when I dug my nails into her skin, “Ow, just because we’re vampires doesn’t mean that doesn’t hurt!”

“Get off,” I laughed, rolling onto my back, forcing her to release me, “I don’t like cuddling.”

“You’re the worst.” Seulgi pouted, glaring as we turned our heads to face each other. I rolled my eyes, disregarding my letter onto my bedside table before settling back down.

“I thought you were with Irene.” I muttered, raising an eyebrow. Seulgi shook her head no and pursed her lips.

“Haven’t seen her since the study hall, she was really pissed.” Seulgi explained, turning onto her back as she stared up at the white ceiling of my shared room with Irene, “It wouldn’t come as a surprise if Mingi was found ripped in half somewhere.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, “If Mingi dies, it better be by my hands and not anyone else’s.”

Seulgi snickered, raising an eyebrow, “Would you really kill him?”

I pondered for a second, eyebrows furrowing. Was I really capable of hurting someone to the point it would cause their death? Not exactly. Did Song Mingi piss me off so much that I have envisioned myself ripping him up into tiny particles, never to be seen again? Well, yes.

“No.” I settled with my answer, sighing loudly as Seulgi hummed, silence falling over us as there was a quiet rumble in the sky, further somewhere. A storm was coming.

“This took a dark turn, anyways,” Seulgi chuckled, sitting up and grinning down at me, “did you know about the bonfire happening tomorrow night?”

“First time I hear about it.” I grinned as I looked up at Seulgi, knowing where this conversation was leading to.

“Well then,” She wiggled her eyebrows, “You better get ready to attend another legendary party! The werewolves got the Principal to drop the curfew for the seniors tomorrow night, and we’ve got the whole lake house to ourselves!”

“What?” I asked surprised, eyes widening. Well, that was something. The lake house was off limits, unless we were supervised or had swimming classes.

“Yeah, cool stuff, isn’t it?” Seulgi nudged my thigh with her elbow, “You have to admit…these wet dogs are good for something, sometimes.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I shot Seulgi a glare, the faded bite mark and fresh wound on my left bicep suddenly pulsing in pain, “Never. They are the worst and they’ll always be. They shouldn’t even exist.”

“Okay,” Seulgi drew the word out, giving me an exasperated look, “before you start ranting about why vampires are superior and why werewolves should’ve been eradicated a long time ago, I’m going to dip!”

“Leaving so soon?” I asked with a pout as I watched Seulgi get off my bed.

“Yeah, unless we’re having a sleepover, I have to reach my own room before the curfew.” Seulgi said as she grabbed her bag and adjusted her hair in the mirror.

“Irene’s bed is free for the night, she’s not sleeping here, I think.” I muttered absentmindedly.

“Oh, I know.” Seulgi winked as my eyes narrowed at her, and then she was gone, slipping through the door, and skidding down the hallway outside of my room, her light footsteps loud to my sensitive ears. Tomorrow’s party came in handy; I really needed a drink after today. I couldn’t help but fall back into my bed with a loud huff, forcing my eyes shut when my scar started pulsing harsher, the claw marks left by Mingi fresh and just a reminder of that horrific night I was forced to live through so many years ago. And if the universe was against me, howls of those wrenched creatures traveled all the way inside my room, terrifying and loud, covering my skin in goosebumps. I truly hated those awful creatures of the night.

My hand clenched and unclenched above the tray of food placed in front of myself as I reached for the cold-water bottle, jaw clenched as the skin of my right hand burned with each jerk of my raw skin. I have been injured, again, by Song Mingi. It all happened this morning, in Alchemy. Our professor loves switching up seatmates every few days, therefore I cannot escape the wrath of having to sit next to Song Mingi for a totality of an hour and thirty minutes. Every Alchemy class had been a nightmare when we were seated next to each other, but perhaps today’s was the worst of all as Mingi managed to burn my skin with hot, sizzling, lead. Despite being a vampire, it was the second most painful thing I’ve felt so far, and it made my blood boil as the table the Song’s were sitting at was the loudest in the vast cafeteria. These idiots were enjoying their free time, as usual, loudly while bothering everyone around themselves. My eyes fell on Mingi as he threw his head back and wheezed loudly, eyes forced shut and mouth wide open as his body trashed in his seat, hand rubbing his belly as Yunho continued spouting out non-sense at his twin, making Mingi laugh even harder.

I scoffed with a venomous look on my face, unclasping my bottle of water, and taking a long swing of it. The icy water felt refreshing against my dry throat, and after screwing it shut, I placed the bottom of the bottle on top of the healing burn, sighing at the cooling sensation. Because I wasn’t feeding as often as I was supposed to, due to personal reasons, my body wasn’t healing as fast as it should have been. My senses were all over the place today as well, and it didn’t come much of a surprise, when I woke up this morning overstimulated, again, head thumping violently and ears ringing as my neighbor’s blaring alarm from three doors down woke me up. Today felt like a total nightmare, and as suddenly Wooyoung started slamming his fists on the table, edging a guy I didn’t know on to down some sort of disgusting looking liquid, I felt myself reach my limit again. I groaned, looking away from them, wincing when Wooyoung started cackling loudly, like a witch, followed by Yeri’s very shrill shouts, the sounds too harsh and piercing my sensitive ears.

“I can’t fucking stand this.” I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut as I threw the water bottle down on the table harshly, freeing my hands in order to be able to massage my thumping forehead. My migraine was only getting worse.

“Maybe you should try eating something, Y/N.” Irene’s tone was scolding, and I just shook my head, repulsed just by the thought of eating that disgusting stew placed on the plate in my tray. That was straight up dog food, and I refused to eat it. I was craving blood now more than ever, not disgusting human food.

“I’m not eating this—glop.” I motioned towards the stew on my plate and Krystal groaned loudly, throwing me a glare.

“This glop is quite tasty, Y/N, try not to ruin other’s appetite.” She spoke up with an irritated tone, “Thank you.”

I rolled my eyes but decided to shut up, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, this isn’t for my taste either.” It seemed like only Seulgi was on my side, but perhaps that wasn’t a surprise anymore. I saw the subtle glances she stole at Yunho, and when she noticed him inhaling his stew like it was the tastiest meal he’d ever had, she made a face and pushed her tray just a little bit away from herself. But in the end, she still gave in and started eating it, albeit grimacing at each spoonful.

“Why are you eating it then?” Irene asked with a roll of her eyes, pausing to give her friend a glare. I chuckled when Seulgi shrugged, averting her eyes with a blush on her cheeks. I looked down at my hand and flexed my fingers, sighing when the burning feeling intensified. I felt defeated as I leaned back in my chair, realizing that I needed to feed this afternoon too. I couldn’t go around without healing my wounds anymore, my parents would be visiting tomorrow and they’d certainly throw a fit upon noticing the fresh wounds. And that’s something I didn’t wish for at the moment.

“What happened to your hand?” Krystal asked with a frown, having finally noticed my pain as I kept wincing and glaring at the red, raw, skin of my right hand.

“Ask Mingi, he’ll gladly tell you.” I scoffed, shooting daggers at the back of his head. Almost as if sensing my harsh stare, he paused mid-air as he was raising his spoon to his mouth, and very puppy-like looked around the canteen, searching for someone. That is until his eyes fell on me, and they widened before he whipped his head around, audibly choking on his stew as he started coughing, forcing Dahyun to tap his back with strength a little girl like her shouldn’t have.

“That was interesting.” Krystal muttered as she took a longer glance at Mingi, “Almost makes me think you cursed him or something.”

“If I were a witch,” I grinned, looking at Krystal with a malicious glint in my eyes, “I would’ve gladly done it a long time ago.”

“So, will you tell us what happened?” Irene spoke up, eyebrows raised as she reminded us of Krystal’s question.

“He burned my hand, with lead.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest while being careful not to touch the raw skin, “We were supposed to melt lead and mix it with chloride, professor said something about wanting to try and make aurene glass. Guess who decided to fuck up everything? That’s right, Song Mingi.”

My jaw clenched as I was taken back to that moment in the classroom, cauldrons steaming and a low murmur echoing around the dark room as everyone conversed with their seatmate, talking about the exercise we were given. Everyone except Mingi and I. We remained silent, a tense silence if I may specify, as the textbook was opened and placed in the middle of the long desk, between the two of us. It served like an unspoken barrier, yet Mingi managed to cross it every time he went to grab something, elbowing me even a few times. I tried to control myself, ears ringing as I could hear his loud heartbeat, my nose crying at the stench of wet dog mixed with fresh grass and perhaps something that oddly smelled like cinnamon. Mingi was fidgety and kept glancing at me from the corner of his eyes, licking his lips every so often. I kept on looking ahead, or at what I was doing, completely ignoring his existence. I wore a sleeveless tank top; therefore my bandages were quite obvious. The wounds have closed up already, but perhaps I wanted to be a little bit dramatic as I knew I had class with the Song twins today. I noticed the way Mingi’s body tensed when his eyes fell on my arm, and Yunho had to grab his shoulder and drag him to their table, muttering something so low into his twin’s ear, that even my sensitive hearing didn’t catch it. Not that I was curious.

After the professor assigned Mingi and I as partners, he very begrudgingly trudged over, head hanging low and pouting like a little boy forced to do something he didn’t want to. It was almost hilarious that he thought he was the only one not keen of our current predicament, but I certainly wouldn’t speak to him first about what has transpired yesterday in the study hall. I organized everything on our table as Mingi took his seat while staring at the table, avoiding eye contact when I directed my sharp gaze on his chiseled face, glaring hard at him.

“Think you can melt the lead?” My tone was snappy and cold as I raised an eyebrow at Mingi, obviously mocking him as I knew he could easily do something so easy.

“Of course, I can.” His tone was hard too as his eyes snapped up, connecting with my gaze, glaring back. I smirked as I pushed the material towards him, motioning with my chin for him to start doing so then, “I’m not your slave.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” I asked with a sweet smile despite having heard his mumbling. Mingi took a deep breath, and I watched as his sharp jaw clenched.

“Nothing, if I melt this, you mix it with the chloride, right?” He didn’t look at me as he turned on the fire underneath the steel cauldron. I hummed, pretending to think it over as my eyes ran over our textbook despite already knowing the whole process. Alchemy was always my forte, I always studied in advance for it.

“If I’ll be in the mood—”

“This is supposed to be teamwork!” Mingi snapped quietly, eyes furious as he turned to face me. His eyebrows furrowed a little and I watched as he took a deep breath, his eyes switching for a second between orchid and their deep brown. My heart stilled, the memory of his claws ripping my skin apart too fresh in my mind as my faded wound started pulsing again. I gulped and sneered at him, leaning just a little bit closer, nose burning from his horrible stench.

“Maybe if you wouldn’t have tried killing me yesterday, I would work together with a dog like you.” I hissed, Mingi’s eyes flaring orchid all of a sudden. I stiffened as we stared each other down, faces close to each other, but a few inches in between still.

“If you think calling me a dog does something to annoy me, you’re wrong, you bloodsucker.” Mingi hissed back and I chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Is that why you’re losing your cool again?” I mocked, pursing my lips in thought, “Your eyes are a dead giveaway, Mingi.”

“Perhaps you should then know by now to stop.” His voice dropped eerily low, shivers running up all over my arms, “Unless you want a repeat of yesterday.”

My heart stilled for a second and body froze up, mouth opening in shock. I only gaped at Mingi for a second, flabbergasted by the amused smirk on his lips as he stared me down, almost challengingly. But as I went to threaten him back, suddenly Yunho was behind him, large hands grabbing Mingi’s shoulders and yanking him backwards. Mingi just blinked, eyes back to brown, and looked up at his twin innocently. I couldn’t help but glare at the two, blood boiling for being rendered speechless by a dog like Mingi.

“I forgot my notebook,” Yunho’s voice was irritatingly cheery, yet I didn’t miss the warning tone in it as he squeezed Mingi’s shoulders, “can you hand it over, Mingi?”

“It’s not here.” Mingi said with a frown, looking around our shared desk, “It’s in your backpack, Yunho.”

“Oh,” Yunho chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he released Mingi’s shoulders, “my bad, I forgot. Don’t cause too much trouble.”

And with a wink, he was gone, but not without stealing a glance at me, eyes narrowing as I rolled mine, turning around to face my notebook. And after that, Mingi and I got to work, wordlessly moving around each other, making sure to never even as much as touch the other, abruptly halting when we noticed the other’s hand coming closer to our own. Time ticked away and everything was going well, until it wasn’t. Until Mingi decided to touch the tube containing the sizzling hot lead with his bare hands, spilling it all over our desk, my notebook, and my hand. I gasped loudly and couldn’t help but moan in pain as I shoot up from my seat, clutching my right wrist with my left hand as I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, hearing the professor race over as he shouted at Mingi to get the lead wipes, tissues specifically made for lead removal. The professor carefully pushed me back into my chair and took my hand into his hands, inspecting the skin closely as Mingi crashed into the table with the lead wipes in his hands. The impact sent the other tubes tumbling to the ground, but everyone ignored the sound of breaking glass as suddenly Mingi was all up in my personal space, looming over me as he clumsily handed the professor a wipe. I hissed as the professor removed the hot lead from my skin, biting my lower lip as it started burning instantly, the pain bearable, but strong.

“Thankfully the damage isn’t too bad or harsh,” The professor said as he raised my hand and inspected it from closer, “Since you’re a vampire it will heal by tomorrow, but I advise feeding and getting a lot of sleep tonight.”

Sleep, which I won’t be getting because of the bonfire party tonight, “Thank you, professor.”

He hummed before turning his stern gaze on Mingi, releasing my hands and placing them on his hips, a scolding following, “And you, young man. You’re always breaking and spilling stuff in my class, this has become unacceptable, Song Mingi. You could’ve seriously injured your classmate. I cannot accept clumsy students to my classes, I’m afraid I will have to talk to the Principal about your future in my classroom.”

“But, Professor—” However, before Mingi could even defend himself, Yunho was by his side, smiling sweetly at the professor. Of course, he would speak up for Mingi, always the knight in shining armor, acting as if Mingi didn’t have a tongue, a mouth, and a brain. But perhaps that’s why he was speaking up for Mingi, because he didn’t have all those.

“Professor, Mingi really needs this class in his curriculum.” Yunho started with a soft voice, “And the full moon is almost here, he gets stressed and unfocused around this time of the month. I can assure you that something like this won’t happen again, Professor, even if Mingi is clumsy.”

The professor sighed, rubbing his forehead, looking tired all of a sudden. And it was just the morning. I rolled my eyes when I saw the professor nod his head silently, fixing Mingi with a stern glare, “Alright, young man, get yourself together if this truly is caused by the upcoming full moon. I don’t see other wolves acting out, perhaps a counselor could help with your struggles. I will let you off this one time, but you better clear up all that broken glass!”

And just like that, Mingi was let off, and Yunho stood grinning next to his twin, both of them bowing and thanking the professor profusely. I had scoffed loudly, shaking my head as I have started putting my things away, completely ignoring the twins staring as I stormed out of the classroom, not before whirling my destroyed notebook at Mingi, who caught it with a huff as it slammed against his chest.

My eyes snapped back onto the Song table, brought back from my memory as they cheered loudly, while someone sat next to Wooyoung kept throwing grapes in his mouth, cackling at the same time. I closed my eyes with a loud groan, all three girls looking at me with amused expressions. And if this day couldn’t have gotten worse, as I opened my eyes, I was met with a stone faced Hongjoong storming past our table, throwing a piercing stare at me. I rolled my eyes and slid a little lower in my chair, the girls chuckling around me as they watched Hongjoong sit at a table with a very elegant and handsome vampire.

“He’s still butthurt?” Seulgi asked with a chuckle, watching Hongjoong behind me.

“Wouldn’t you also be?” Irene scoffed, throwing a glare at Seulgi, “Y/N literally dumped him after half a year of dating, because she found out he wasn’t rich.”

“Well, if he wouldn’t have lied to me from the very beginning,” I said with a scoff, giving them a look, “I wouldn’t have dated him for half a year, even. You know my parents would flip out if I didn’t date someone our caliber.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Krystal snorted, making me look at her questioningly, “What? You always blame your parents for the way you are, but you fail to realize it’s just you, not your parents.”

“Sure, Krystal,” I snapped, angered by the words of my supposed friend, who should’ve been on my side, “Please, do keep a lecture about how I am, and what my parents prefer if you seem to know everything so well about me!”

“Why are we fighting now?” Seulgi asked exasperated, giving me a tired look, “What is the reason for it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve had enough.” I snapped and pushed my chair back, ears ringing as the Song table roared with laughter, the guy sitting beside Wooyoung suddenly jumping up and doing silly dances, “I have a migraine, I’m not sitting here for a second longer. See y’all at the bonfire.”

Before my friends could stop me, I grabbed my tray and walked off, forced to head towards the Song table as I had to return my untouched glop of a stew. I couldn’t help but watch Mingi as the sunlight shone inside brightly, falling on his tan skin, his blonde and red hair glinting in the light, which was in a ponytail much like yesterday. His uniform was a little array, the top of his shirt unbuttoned and tie disregarded after our Alchemy class. Of course, he was enjoying life without a care in the world, despite maiming me again, despite causing pain to me again. These bloody werewolves acted like they ruled the world and suffered no consequences when they did something wrong. I scoffed, but smirked a second later as I looked down at my still hot stew, a simple plan formulating in my mind.

It didn’t take long to reach their table, and to my ‘horror’, the front of my shoe got stuck in a ‘misplaced’ tile as it sent me tumbling forward, yelping loudly as I crashed into the back of Mingi’s chair, my tray falling from my hand and to the floor with a loud clank, Mingi’s loud cry following suit. I watched with wide eyes as Mingi jumped to his feet, sending me stumbling backwards, as my hot stew dripped down the back of his neck, his white shirt soaking through as the food trickled down his back. Everyone quieted around us, the Song table freezing as they watched Mingi yank the buttons of his shirt open, ripping the fabric off himself in a frenzy. Yunho and Dahyun were the first to spring into action, the young girl grabbing tissues as she jumped to the aid of her older brother. Yunho took the tissues and he started wiping the stew off Mingi quickly, who was whimpering quietly, as Dahyun took his larger hand in her small one, looking up at his brother with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, no.” I said coldly, the attention on me now, “There’s a protruding tile, I didn’t see it.”

Perhaps the insincerity and mockery in my tone sent Yunho over the edge as his expression suddenly switched up, his eyes glazing over in anger, face scrunching as his fangs suddenly poked through his lips. His eyes didn’t switch colors like Mingi’s would’ve already, but Yunho looked terrifying to the onlookers, not to me. I’ve seen Yunho angry before, and it didn’t faze me because I knew he was all bark and no bite. The giant couldn’t hurt a fly, even.

“Which tile?!” Yunho’s voice was shaking, “Show me! Right now!”

“Yunho.” Mingi whispered, grabbing his brother’s bicep.

“No, Mingi, no!” Yunho snapped, furious eyes settling on his brother, warning him to stay quiet, “I’ve had enough of her always bullying us! I’ve had enough of you, Y/N, always making Mingi suffer. What’s your fucking problem, huh?!”

“You,” I snarled, fangs growing out as I lost composure, “and your pathetic family are my fucking problem, Yunho. You act like animals and parade around thinking there’s no consequence to your actions?! He burned my fucking hand, Yunho! He pierced my skin with his claws, Yunho! What’s next, huh? He bites me and kills me?! Do you not see Mingi isn’t fit to be here? Your whole family shouldn’t be here, Yunho!”

“Until when do you think your werewolf hating agenda can go on, Y/N?” Yunho’s ears and neck have gotten red, eyes shaking as they flickered orchid for a second, but were quickly back to their light brown color. I could hear Yunho’s heart hammer against his chest, Mingi’s heartbeat fast as well, but not out of anger like Yunho’s, instead out of fear. His grip tightened around Yunho’s bicep, and I chuckled as a smirk slipped onto my lips.

“Until the day the Earth ends?” I raised an eyebrow, “Don’t forget your place, Werewolf. You are nobody and nothing, I am a Petrova. My family paved the way for everything you are able to experience comfortably today. So think again before you try to threaten me, Song Yunho.”

“Your family would be ashamed of you, Y/N.” Perhaps that jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as I did, it visibly made me recoil as my eyebrows furrowed, bitterness raising in my throat. No, they wouldn’t be. Just because I hated this family didn’t mean my own would be ashamed of me.

“You’re wrong.” I found myself saying back, voice not as strong as it was, “Stay away from me, all of you!”

And before anyone could say anything, I stormed out of the canteen, ignoring the loud whispers that followed even when I was far away, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. I tried to forget Yunho’s words, but they were messing with my head. Maybe if his own kind wouldn’t act like such wild animals, I wouldn’t hate them. Maybe if his own feral kind wouldn’t have tried to kill me when I was a child, I wouldn’t hate them so much.

Somewhere along the day I managed to put past myself everything that’s happened in the morning and at noon in the canteen, and after having fed, I was pleased to see the burn on my hand heal by itself by the time the girls and I headed out to the bonfire party. Despite it being a spring evening, the air was chilly and the breeze cool, therefore I opted to wear a light patterned jacket over my black off-shoulder fluffy blouse, ripped black jeans hugging my legs and keeping them warm. Not that I was too cold, a vampire’s body reacted differently to the temperatures compared to the human ones. The party had been in full swing by the time the girls and I have arrived, having had to walk through a short passage of the woods, feeling quite disturbed by the louds howls of the werewolves. The girls only laughed and made comments about them being too excited for such a simple party, but all I could think about was one of them jumping out and ripping us to shreds. I kept closer to Irene, who never questioned it when I snuggled up against her side or held onto her arm tightly, even went as far as to offer me a huge smile and rub my arm up and down reassuringly. Nobody really knew about how I acquired the bite mark on my left bicep, forever marked, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. A vampire’s bite looked a lot different, and if a vampire bit another vampire, it faded away in less than three hours. However, if a werewolf bit a vampire, if the vampire was fortunate enough to survive the attack then the wound would scar and fade into a light, but very visible, bite marks.

But I tried to put past myself such grey thoughts tonight, and instead, welcomed the lively atmosphere as we were presented with the gravel path that lead down towards the lake house, the big bonfire a few good meters away from it, in the small meadow surrounding the lake. Vampires and Werewolves alike were gathered around, forming smaller or larger groups, and I was quickly pulled in the direction of the crackling fire as Irene excitedly pointed towards the roasted marshmallows others were having. I chuckled as I released her thin arm and accepted the red solo cup Seulgi pushed into my hands, not bothering to ask what was in it, knowing that it was most likely some unbranded hard liquor which would get us drunk fast, and hit hard, leaving us hungover tomorrow. Which probably wasn’t too smart as our parents would be visiting, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care as my body and mind screamed for a little release as these past few days have been quite stressful. I downed the contents of the red cup in one go, and perhaps that was a mistake as it burned my esophagus, making me cough loudly as Irene happily roasted her marshmallow, giggling about something with Krystal, who was crouched down next to her. Seulgi leaned against my side, resting her arm on my shoulder, and laughed as she watched me wheeze for air, clutching at my own throat desperately.

“Girl, nobody told you to down it in one go.” Seulgi seemed amused by my suffering, and I could only glare at her. That is, until I felt a foreign arm wrap around my shoulders, scent extremely new, but not too bothersome as I inhaled sharply.

“Here, wash it down with beer.” It was a senior vampire I have seen around, his eyes sharp and glinting with mischief. I narrowed my eyes at him before looking at the canned beer, and reluctantly accepted it when he pushed it in my hand, “Don’t worry, it’s unopened. Saw you downing your drink and knew you’d regret it instantly, the name’s Joshua, by the way.”

I opened the beer and took a big gulp of it, welcoming the cool drink as it poured down my throat, finally washing away the awful burn of the previous alcohol, “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Right,” Joshua chuckled, releasing me as he stepped back, “Hard to miss a Petrova.”

And with a wink he was gone, making me smirk as he threw a lasting stare back at me. Seulgi chuckled; her eyebrows raised when I looked at her.

“What was that?” She mocked, using a manly voice, trying to imitate Joshua despite his soft-spoken, melodic voice.

“Don’t know, but he’s cute.” I mused with a shrug and took another big gulp of my beer, humming as I could feel my body jittery already. Alcohol affected us, night creatures, harder, but judging my current mental state, I would get drunk a lot faster tonight than I would do so usually.

“Maybe he’s got his eyes on you?” Seulgi smirked, eyes sweeping over the place, searching for Joshua.

“If he’s rich, I don’t mind.” I said with a chuckle and Seulgi just shook her head, detaching herself as Irene and Krystal finally joined us again, instead going up to Irene to ruffle her perfect dark brown hair. Irene whined and pushed at Seulgi’s hand, pouting as she rearranged her curls, exchanging places with Krystal so that Seulgi wouldn’t bother her again.

“Where’d you get those drinks from?” She asked, pointing at Seulgi’s.

“From the open bar.” Seulgi said while pointing with her head towards a long table only a few feet away from us, littered with all sorts of alcohol, four people behind the table handing everyone a red cup as they walked up to them. Two vampires and two werewolves, I could only hope Seulgi accepted our drinks from the vampires.

“Let’s grab some!” Krystal said excitedly, and I nodded, downing my beer and throwing the crumpled can to the ground as I followed after them.

“Wait for me, I need a refill!”

“Already?” Irene asked with wide eyes and I grinned as I nodded, holding my empty red cup up.

“I’m getting wasted tonight.” I chuckled as the girls gave me weary looks, but commented nothing on it.

And wasted I got not even two hours into the party. The world was a little fuzzy and hazy around me, but I maneuvered myself around the crowd quite skillfully, I was one hundred percent sure that someone from the outside wouldn’t have been able to tell that I was, well, drunk. Maybe the way my laughter got louder and more frequent would’ve been a tell-tale sign that, perhaps, I should take it easy on the alcohol from now on, but nobody paid enough attention to me to actually stop me from doing so. Irene and Seulgi were perhaps even drunker than I was, falling over each other and giggling at everything as they whispered in each other’s ears, completely forgetting that with our sensitive hearing we could still hear them if we listened closely. But I was too in my own head to be curious of their conversation, and instead found myself in a heated debate with Krystal and a druid friend of hers about which herbs were actually healing, and which were known to have healing proprieties but weren’t actually used to heal, but to poison instead. Of course, I thought I was quite right at the beginning about some black roots I have found two weeks ago in the forest, but turns out it only gives you diarrhea if you drink it two days in a row. Which was excellent, and perhaps a piece of information I shouldn’t bear as my mind instantly went to Mingi, making me cackle to myself. Krystal said nothing despite me probably looking like a mad woman, and instead came to my aid when she noticed me trying to stand up from the log we had been lounging on for the past one hour.

“I’m getting a drink,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes for a second as the world swirled with me upon standing up, “and then I’m going to dance, want to come?”

Krystal hummed, looking around the bonfire, eyes pausing on somebody I couldn’t see due to my alcohol infused brain, “Perhaps later, would you mind that?”

“Of course not!” I exclaimed with a grin and petted her head, albeit a little too aggressively, before turning my head to look for Irene and Seulgi…but they weren’t where we had left them not even fifteen minutes ago. My eyes narrowed as I searched the place, closing my eyes to tune into their voices, listening closely, but failing as there were too many voices surrounding me. On a normal day, finding them even a crowd as big and loud as this one would’ve been child’s splay, but with my fogged-up brain, it turned out to be mission impossible right now. And closing my eyes made me feel nauseous, so I quickly opened them and with a drunken wave directed at Krystal, I took off towards the open bar. I was quite skilled at walking in a straight line without bumping into anyone despite my current state, and could only grin at the people behind the table once I arrived there. I failed to notice the werewolf dude leaning over the table, asking what I wanted. I held up one finger before pointing at the beer, and he handed it to me quickly with a smile, making me chuckle as I opened it and took a big gulp of it. He chuckled and cheered for me, making me wink at him before I turned and took off, headed towards the lake house. I had been in the mood to dance for hours now, but the girls kept me busy with stories, and I continuously kept bumping into people I knew, forced to converse with each one. But now, finally the time to join the dance floor came, and I felt giddy as I sped up, not noticing that I was using my vampire speed, the world blurring even more in front of my eyes, that is until my body slammed into another one, halting me back with a loud gasp as the beer was slapped out of my hand.

“What the fuck?!” I called out loudly, pushing my arm out in front of me as my arm dripped with disgusting beer. The music was louder as I was almost near the lake house.

“Sorry, I wasn’t—oh.” My eyes snapped up at the sudden attitude in the tone of the person who had run into me, only needing a few seconds for the wet dog stench to register, the blonde hair of the deceitful girl standing in front of me way too familiar.

“You.” I snarled, eyes darkening as my fangs appeared, out of control due to the alcohol in my system at this point as I glared down at the shorter girl in front of myself. Yeri’s eyes were just as dark as mine, her hands balled into fists as her cheeks were flushed red, “What the fuck are you doing here, little dog? This party is for seniors, and you’re not even a junior.”

“Fuck off, bitch!” Yeri snapped, growling at me, sending me into a giggling fit as I stared the younger girl down, raising an eyebrow.

“Did one of your disgusting brother’s snuggle you inside?” I tilted my head to the side, pouting my lips in mockery, “Or did you slip in by yourself? How about I show you where wet dog’s like you belong?”

“Don’t touch me!” Yeri yelped when my hand shoot out, wrapping around her bicep painfully, my eyes flashing scarlet red.

“I keep telling your brother the same thing, yet he never listening, little Yeri.” I sighed loudly, making fake crying sounds in my drunken stupor, “How about I teach him a lesson through you?”

I flashed my fangs as I stepped all up in Yeri’s personal space, her eyes widening in fright as she started yanking on her arm, her heartbeat fast in panic.

“If you struggle, it’ll only hurt more.” I whispered menacingly as I started leaning closer to her neck, grabbing her other arm with my free hand, stilling her movements with my inhumane strength. The girl whimpered loudly and I watched as her lips trembled in fright, shaking her head furiously no. I grinned sadistically at her, chuckling when I got close enough to her neck, hearing her quiet sniffs as she had started crying, “How pathetic.”

I loosened my grip on her and she instantly pushed me away to the point I staggered backwards, almost loosing my footing as the world swirled with me, “You fucking psychotic bitch!”

Yeri cried at the top of her lungs, a few night creatures glancing our way, but they continued walking on when they saw that nothing bad was actually happening, “Oh, little puppy got scared? How sad!”

“I will rip you to fucking shreds when I have my first shifting!” Yeri screamed, voice shrill and breathing heavily as I threw my head back in laughter, gulping down the sudden wave of nausea which hit me.

“Stupid dog, in your place I’d be more worried about growing a beard!” I stuck my tongue out at Yeri in child-like mockery, and watched as her eyes widened to the point of popping, choking back a scream. I just laughed as she threw me one last furious glare before turning around and storming off, her mumbling quite loud as I laughed hearing her curse me to the heavens and back.

“Great, now my beer is gone.” I grumbled to myself once Yeri was out of sight and not entertaining me anymore, making me sigh as I remembered my mission before I was interrupted by the stupid girl. I turned around and grinned as I spotted the door to the lake house open, and once again using my vampire speed, I waltzed inside quite clumsily, knocking into the doorframe and groaning as I stumbled towards. Somebody caught me but I quickly shook their hands off, and pushed my way through the crowd, settling somewhere towards the middle of it, closing my eyes and getting lost to the even beat of the EDM music playing.

I smiled as I threw my arms up, jumping to the beat, until I felt someone tapping my shoulder, making me turn around. It was a girl I knew from one of my classes and she looked quite excited as she waved, making me chuckle as I waved back. She was quite the cute fae and extremely friendly, so I didn’t object as she pushed a red cup into my hands, prompting me to drink from it. Perhaps it was the tastiest cocktail I drank all night long, and I thanked her with a big grin when she said I could keep it. I closed my eyes and swayed my hips to the rhythm of the music, enjoying myself with the small fae girl as she twirled around cutely, making me laugh at some of her movements as I found them hilarious, but endearing. The DJ suddenly changed the song and everyone screamed, making me excited as it was one of my favorite song’s, the fae girl’s eyes also widening as she grabbed my arm and started jumping up and down in excitement. Soon, I found myself taking large gulps of the sweet cocktail as I jumped up and down with the fae, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs as we were just two drunken bodies enjoying ourselves in the crowd of the night creatures. That is, however, until I felt a harsh grip on my right bicep, forcefully yanking me backwards and away from my fae friend. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I pouted when the fae girl suddenly stepped back, eyes wide and set behind me before she got lost in the crowd, my body whirled around so fast that everything went hazy around me, and I was forced to shut my eyes for a few moments, stomach doing weird flips. It also didn’t help that suddenly it smelled like wet dogs.

“Listen here, bloodsucker,” A deep and raspy male voice hissed, my eyes snapping open as I found myself face to face with Mingi, “you can insult me and threaten me all day long, if you want, but if you touch my sister one more time, Y/N, I will rip you apart!”

I stared into Mingi’s handsome face for a second, and then the next I was laughing, head falling back as my body shook with the motion, hardly able to control myself in my inebriated state. But my fun didn’t last for long as I felt the red cup slapped out of my hand, making my blood boil as I glared at Mingi.

“This is the second time one of you, Song wet dog’s, slap my drink out of my hand, Mingi,” I hissed, unimpressed at this point, “It’s getting tiring and annoying.”

“I don’t give a shit about your drinks, Y/N,” Mingi growled, stepping closer, “What I do care about is you having a problem with my sister and—”

“Blah-blah-blah, Mingi.” I scoffed, pulling on my arm, but Mingi’s grip only tightened, “Quit yapping, I don’t give a shit. You’re irrelevant, irritating, and you fucking stink.”

“Listen to me, you fucking entitled bitch!” Mingi’s raw voice boomed over the music as he grabbed me by both arms, shaking my body harshly as his breathing got heavier, heart thumping wildly in his chest. I chuckled and bit my lower lip, surprised by this new side of Mingi. His breath was mingled with alcohol, no wonder he was acting so wild all of a sudden, not that he usually wasn’t. It was just…more raw tonight, seemed more sincere than before, “I want you to leave my family alone. We’ve had enough of your torment and constant taunts, what the fuck did we do to you?!”

I groaned and threw my head back to stare at the dark ceiling of the lake house, “You’re just too dense, Mingi, aren’t you? Do you seriously want me to go on a rant and repeat every single thing I’ve told you these past two days? You have no place at Wilden Pine Academy, let alone in Nocturnal Parade.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Mingi hissed through his teeth, making me smirk as he stepped back, letting go of my arms finally.

“Are you?” I mocked as I cocked an eyebrow at him, blinking at him sweetly, “I thought you were here to put me in my place for touching your precious little sister. She’s quite dumb, by the way, but I suppose it runs in the family.”

Mingi didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t hard to miss the way his jaw clenched, ebbing me on more to continue taunting him. I felt confident as I allowed my eyes to run over his body, taking in his tall and lanky form. The dark grey jeans hung loosely around his lower half, a little low on his hips, held in place by the thick belt he wore, making him look like a cowboy, almost. There were quite big rips in his jeans, the lower half of his thighs uncovered just to below his knees, a quite delicious sight for hungry eyes. I slowly dragged my eyes up, and perhaps, they lingered a tad bit too long on his narrow waist, the black muscle shirt tucked inside his jeans clinging deliciously tight against his lean muscles, which were not too harsh, but quite obvious now that he was out of his loose Academy uniform. I knew werewolves were night creatures with higher body temperature, but it was still a bit surprising that he didn’t wear a jacket, his neck decorated with various silver chains, similar much to the collars dogs would wear. I giggled at my own thoughts as I finally looked back into Mingi’s eyes, forgetting for a second where I was going with this, or what I initially had in mind as I felt my own heartrate pick up, almost matching Mingi’s. I failed to notice his fluffy hair was out of his day-to-day manbun, lusciously falling around his face, framing his sharp eyes which looked even sharper with the harsh black eyeliner rimming them.

“Nice necklaces, Mingi,” I complimented, twirling my finger around a chain until Mingi slapped it away with a hiss, “reminds me of dogs and their collars their owners make them wear. Do you also have an owner?”

Mingi’s cheeks flared in an instant, and I wasn’t surprise to see his eyes flash orchid, flickering back to their warm brown color the next second. I tilted my head and licked my lips as I stepped just a bit closer, suddenly meowing at him in a mocking way, “Do big, bad, dogs like you like little kitties too?”

It really happened in a flash, perhaps in a sober state I would’ve been impressed by how fast he moved even for a werewolf, but all of my senses were dull at the moment as my world was hazy, and all I could do was remain frozen in surprise as Mingi’s large hand took ahold of my neck and tightly wrapped around it, his silver rings digging into my skin. His puffs of breath hit my face as he was breathing hard, and I could hear the blood race through his veins, flush to his head deliciously as his heart thumped wildly, the strange cinnamon scent I have smelled before on him very prominent all of a sudden. My blood ran cold as Mingi’s eyes flashed orchid again, fingers squeezing my throat just a bit more, but now it hurt. However, I felt my heart race pick up as butterflies flew freely in my stomach, making me giggle breathlessly. The alcohol could really make you a fool if it wanted to, if you allowed it to.

“Will you snap my neck in half?” I whispered against Mingi’s lips, almost touching, knowing well that he could hear me crystal clear. Mingi sucked in a harsh breath of air, shaking his head, body trembling. I smirked, very aware of the conflicting emotions on Mingi’s face, and of the growing and shrinking claws against the soft skin of my neck. He really could’ve snapped my neck in half right then and there if he wanted to, and I would’ve been too drunk to realize it in time and defend myself. Making it even worse, I was the one asking for it, edging him on, laughing danger in its face, forgetting why I hate werewolves so much. Forgetting that I almost lost my life because of one of them.

Perhaps the planets stilled and galaxies aligned as one, and not even that could’ve prepared me for Mingi’s next actions, or the crippling shock I felt in my body, as Mingi pulled my body into his, ferociously chasing after my red lips as his plump ones found mine, inhaling them as he sucked on my lower lip, my body too numb on the inside to show on the outside the shock I was feeling. His teeth clamped down on my bottom lip painfully so, making me gasp as I yanked my head back, very aware of Mingi’s huge palm kneading the flesh of my ass through my jeans, forcing a hysteric laugh out of my body as I threw an arm around his shoulders, feeling weak all of a sudden, and needing something to anchor myself in. My laughter was high-pitched and extremely loud, but it didn’t deter Mingi from me as I felt his left hand grab my nape and yank my head back up, our eyes boring into each other.

“What the fuck, Mingi.” I found myself chuckling, fingers tangling into his soft hair, grip firm and painful as Mingi grimaced slightly.

“Fuck you, Y/N.” Mingi’s growl was animalistic as he crashed our lips together again, the dancing bodies around us forcing us closer together, flushed to the point where I didn’t know where Mingi ended and where I began. His lips set a feracious pace, slotting perfectly against mine, inhaling my breath like I was his only oxygen supply. I didn’t realize it in that moment, but I clung onto him as if my life depended on it, as if he was my life source and I desperately needed him. I sucked and bit at his lips, unashamedly moaning when his hand grabbed onto my ass firmly, rocking our lower bodies in sync to the rhythm of the song while he inhaled my lips, thumb pressing into my cheek painfully as he had grabbed my jaw, keeping me in place, refusing to allow me to pull my head back again. I sucked on his plump lower lip, hearing a small whimper slip through his lips as they parted, granting me the access inside his mouth as I pushed my tongue through his parted lips, forcing his mouth open wider. Mingi groaned deep in his throat, fingers slotting back into my hair and yanking harshly on it, making me gasp as he refused to let me dominate the kiss as his tongue lapped at mine, forcefully entering my own mouth, tilting my head in a way that would grant him even more access to reach deeper. My only body felt alive the longer Mingi’s mouth pressed against mine, no matter the pain as I fisted his muscle shirt, struggling to keep my moans at bay as Mingi’s hand slipped inside the back pocket of my jeans, cupping my ass and guiding my body against his as they grinded together to the music. His tongue was hot as it explored my mouth, licking at every corner, making my breath still as he licked at my fangs almost mockingly, almost as if he tried to draw his own blood, making my head thump with wild lust I’ve never felt before. I didn’t think much, clearly, as I felt with my right hand down his broad shoulders, firm chest, and abdomen, slipping between our bodies without Mingi noticing. My lungs screamed for air, but I refused to pull back first, grabbing at Mingi’s hard-on through his jeans, eliciting a choked back moan. Putting pressure on his dick with the heel of my hand, I started massaging him, Mingi’s breath hitching as he flushed our bodies together even more if that was possible, no longer paying any attention to the music or keeping up with the dancing bodies in the crowd around us. The longer I kept on rubbing his dick slowly but firmly, the sloppier Mingi’s kisses got, gasps and groans slipping past his occupied mouth. I smirked against his slick lips, and felt triumphant when he was the first one to pull back, gasping against my mouth as a string of saliva connected our mouths together still, Mingi’s eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure as I raised my hand enough to slip it inside his jeans, the belt not making it much too difficult to do so. My eyes widened when I realized Mingi wore no underwear, and my throat became drier instantly at the thought of how easy he made everything as my fingers slowly wrapped around his bare member.

“Fuck, not here.” Mingi’s deep voice was raspy and raw as he grabbed my wrist, biting his swollen lower lip.

I chuckled, licking at his red lips, enticed by the flush of his cheeks as I tightened my grip around his shaft, making him gasp in pleasure, “So the big, bad, dog does like playing with kitties, after all.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mingi hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at me, yanking my hand out of his jeans, his long and sharp nose pressing against mine, “You won’t be calling me no dog after tonight.”

Something lay heavily on my chest, hot air tickling the sore skin of my neck. Not much needed to be said as I groaned lowly, all of my muscles feeling heavy and sore, head thumping violently due to the ticking of a clock, which seemed to only become louder and louder, too piercing to my sensitive ears in the quiet of my room. My mouth felt dry and my throat almost felt like burning up, the feeling quite similar to bloodthirst, which wouldn’t make much sense as I have fed yesterday. I wasn’t thirsty, yet my body felt alive, almost alert, as I sighed softly, trying to stretch out my muscles, but unable to move, almost as if I was pinned down by something. I licked my lips and rubbed at my eyes, suddenly registering the foreign scents mingling together around me. The scent of cinnamon was nauseatingly overbearing, making my stomach flip when it mixed with fresh grass, somehow clashing with a completely different scent that reminded me a lot of those stupid wet dogs. Werewolves, only they smelled like that.

My eyes flew open, heartbeat kicking off in a frenzy as my dry eyes burned, having to blink them multiple times until the ache went away, telling myself that this must be just a bad dream as the room I found myself in looked nothing like the dorm room I share with Irene. It was scaringly the opposite of it, quite messy and littered with boyish things, a family picture framed, and placed on the wall opposite the bed I lay in, almost making me scream at the top of my lungs as my eyes swept over the Song family. I jumped when a soft breath tickled the skin of my neck again, and my jaw dropped as I finally took the bother to look down at myself, muscles locking up, and a scream choked back in the back of my throat as I lay frozen with an asleep Song Mingi on top of me, naked. Both of us were naked, and I felt myself starting to panic as I licked my chapped lips, pressing my head back harshly into the pillow, racking my brain for any memories of last night, coming up almost empty handed after my fifth red cup, everything a haze as I desperately tried to find the reason why I was in Mingi’s room, laying naked in bed, and why we have even slept in the same bed…naked.

And the blurry pieces of my recollection that I managed to find were horrifying as obscene memories flooded my mind, heart fluttering and cheeks flaming as Mingi’s breathless moans all of a sudden felt too loud in my ears, his strong body looming over mine as he kissed down my neck, gasping for air when my hand tightened just a little bit harder around his dick, hand moving up and down fast. It made Mingi whimper as he whispered in my ear that he was close to coming, sucking and biting on the soft flesh of my neck, making me moan as his hand cupped my breast, kneading it and squeezing it, body yearning to feel more of him.

But the memory became hazy again, and as I gripped my hair in frustration, I was shocked to find myself just barely remembering Mingi’s face scrunched in pure bliss, head thrown back as his calloused hands gripped my hips to the point of bruising, his hips pistoning upwards as my thighs trembled with my body leaned over him and hands holding onto the headboard as I rode him, our loud moans tangling together in wanton noises, no doubt disturbing Mingi’s neighbors. I could remember my heart beating out of my chest as my orgasm was quickly approaching, hip movements picking up as I started moving up and down faster, calling out Mingi’s name when his thumb found my clit, his eyes suddenly flashing orchid as he growled, letting me fuck myself on him as he looked up at me with the hungriest look in his eyes.

My breath stuttered in my throat as I tried to push the memory away, appalled by the way my body felt hot all over suddenly, Mingi’s naked weight pressing down on me not helping my situation at all as another stray fogged-up memory lurked at the back of my mind, fighting to push through, despite my attempts to keep it at bay. But it was a lost cause as I licked my lips, remembering the feel of Mingi’s lean body above mine and pressing into me, slick with sweat as Mingi’s mouth was parted, puffs of breath leaving his lips with each sharp thrust of his hips, hiking my body a little higher after each one due to the sheer force he was using, my toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets overhead. Mingi had one of my leg’s pushed flushed to my chest as he used it as leverage to turn his pace brutal, my other leg wrapped around his waist, digging into his backside, as I urged him on to move rougher as his thick member pulsed inside my tight walls, tears springing into my eyes when my third orgasm was fast approaching, my body too sensitive to take any more, but Mingi wasn’t stopping. He clamped his free hand down on my mouth as I was borderline screaming, body completely numb at this point as Mingi desperately chased after his own release, growls escaping through his parted lips as his orchid-colored eyes bore into my scarlet ones. Never have I ever felt such intense pleasure before, and I almost had to slap myself to push the memory away, skin tingling as Mingi suddenly shifted on top of me, lips brushing against my collarbones. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and trying to remain level-headed, but the more the realization that I have slept with Mingi dawned on me, the more hysterical I started feeling. My body trembled in anger, and confusion over how much I liked it and how much my body was yearning for it again.

I did the next best thing I could, raised my hand and whacked Mingi in the back of his head hard, making him jump up with a loud growl and eyes orchid. He looked around the room frantically as his lower half pressed into mine, making my heartbeat quicken. It took Mingi almost the same amount of time as for me to realize just what happened, and as he whipped his head around, eyes back to their usual brown, his mouth fell open, and a very shrill scream left his lungs, making me close my eyes in pain as my ears rung.

“What the fuck!” Mingi continued to scream, horrified eyes looking at me, then at himself, continuing to do so for a few minutes until I realized he was basically looking at my naked breasts, making me smack him in the face, but not in a painful way, “What the fuck?!”

“Shut up!” I screamed back at Mingi as my head thumped violently, his screaming only adding onto my migraine and hangover.

“What are you doing in my bed naked?!” Mingi still seemed too shocked to move, and I pushed his head away so that he wouldn’t look at me anymore. I went to wriggle out from underneath him, but that only made matters worse as I rubbed up against his morning wood, making me gasp as my body instantly reacted, wanting nothing more than to spread my legs wide open for Mingi, a thought so terrifying that I froze. I didn’t miss Mingi’s sharp inhale and his reddening cheeks.

“What do you think, you fucking idiot?!” I managed to fire back, Mingi suddenly realizing just how naked we were as he rolled over, finally his body off mine. I finally felt like I could breathe as I rolled to my side as well, shielding my private parts from him as the sheet on us wasn’t big enough to cover the both of us anymore.

“Oh, my God,” Mingi sounded mortified and I felt the bed dip behind myself, “Where’s Yunho? Did he not come back here?”

“I fucking hope not!” I snapped as I sharply turned around, pushing Mingi hard, kicking him off his bed as he yelped loudly, hitting the carpeted floor with a heavy thud.

“What the fuck!” He called out, reaching a hand up and ripping the sheet covering me off, to shield himself. I yelped and scattered off the bed as well, wildly looking for my clothes, thankfully finding them disregarded by the bed as I used my inhumane speed to dress myself before Mingi could see me.

“Did we—why were you naked in my bed?!” Mingi stood, sheet wrapped around himself like a burrito, only his head visible as his face looked pale. He better was just as hungover as I as I struggled to button my jeans due to it, blood boiling at his stupid question.

“What do you think, you stupid boy?!” I hissed, scarlet eyes snapping onto him menacingly, “Surely not because we read the Holy Book Of The Clergy!”

“Don’t bring up the Clergy right now, oh, my God!” Mingi looked mortified as he looked around, eyes pausing on his family photo, face blenching even more, “We had sex.”

“You don’t say!” I snapped accusingly, eyes falling on the clock, mortified when I realized I barely had an hour to get ready until the gates of the Academy would open for all parents to be welcomed. I went to throw the door open just as Mingi marched up to me, grabbing me by my arm, face hard, and eyes set in a glare.

“Get out.” He snapped, grabbing the doorknob, the sheet wrapped around his body almost falling to the floor. I scoffed and yanked my arm out of his, glaring back just as viciously.

“You hypocrite,” I pushed him back, sneering at him, “you act like I’m the one who put my dick inside of you.”

“I don’t doubt you wouldn’t have, if you had one!” I huffed as I was appalled, my eyes turning scarlet once again as Mingi scoffed at me

“I’m pretty sure you started this on the dancefloor, Mingi—”

“Don’t say my name!” Mingi cringed, turning around and pulling the sheet over his head as he started wailing silently. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics and went to leave the room, never wanting to see his stupid face again, until I remembered just how big of a louse mouth Mingi actually was, and it made my heart thump wildly in fear that he’d go around blabbering about what we had done. So, I turned sharply, and using my vampire speed, appeared in front of Mingi, clutching his throat tightly, only to be faced with no face and only a white sheet. I closed my eyes in exasperation as Mingi gasped and started wailing that he couldn’t breathe, so, I ripped the sheet off his head, glaring at him, almost amused by the way his blonde and red hair stuck up in all directions.

“If you say anything to anyone, Song Mingi, I swear to you right now, that I will suck your blood dry and eradicate your whole family afterwards.” Mingi’s nose scrunched in disgust as I leered the words at him, my fangs menacing, and scarlet eyes terrifying. When Mingi didn’t say anything, I tightened my fingers around his neck, making him roll his eyes at me.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N, I wouldn’t want a soul to know about this.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but upon being convinced based on his heartbeat and stoic face that he was saying the truth, I released him and left his room in a hurry once making sure that nobody would see me. Was it really necessary that my days would turn into nightmares each day lately?

The image I was presented with when I looked in the mirror in my own room was nightmarish, mouth falling open when I saw the dark bruises creating a whole constellation on my neck. I needed a few minutes to calm myself as I took in deep breaths, otherwise Mingi would be laying now in a puddle of his own blood. The sight of myself was disappointing, and I couldn’t help but feel angry with myself for letting this happen. If we weren’t so drunk this would’ve never happened. I can’t believe I let a werewolf touch me…let alone in such inappropriate ways. My mind kept trying to wander off to memories of last night with Mingi, but I forced myself to focus and forget everything that happened, marking it as a stupid drunken mistake that would never again happen. Despite having barely an hour to get ready, I was done in record time. I was fresh and clean after the deep cleanse shower I took, all bruises and miscolored spots instantly covered up afterwards. I curled my hair nicely and applied very light makeup, adding a little color to my pale cheeks and lips, wearing the dress my mother sent. Irene thankfully helped me change it a bit, and now it was up to my taste as I wore my black high heels to match the color of my nails, and left the dorms, not wanting to be late when my parents would arrive. I would certainly get chastised for it, and my still thumping head wouldn’t have been able to take that as well. I was finally regretting the fact that I mixed so many drinks last night and that there wasn’t anyone to stop me from wrecking myself. Surviving today would prove to be almost an impossible mission.

By the time I made it to the gardens, it was buzzing to the brim with students, the younger ones all excited to see their parents, the older ones not as quite happily waiting for them. I easily found Irene in the crowd as I smelled her sweet perfume, and came to stand next to her, arms crossed over my chest as I grimaced when the fifth graders kept cheering and screaming in our vicinity. I didn’t want to ruin the moods of those poor children, but if they didn’t shut up soon, my head would surely explode.

“Oh, Y/N,” Irene said as she finally noticed me, her eyebrows furrowing as she took me in, snapping me out of glaring at a blonde little girl, “When did you arrive? I didn’t notice you.”

I sighed and looked at her tiredly, my muscles quite sore after…the night I had, “Just now, this is dreadful.”

Irene chuckled as she followed my sight, which was back on the loud kids, “Well, yes, you shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night…”

I rolled my eyes, looking back at my friend, “Look who’s talking. I thought friends are supposed to stop you from doing stupid shit? Oh, well, you couldn’t possibly have done so since you disappeared with Seulgi, again.”

Irene blushed and looked away abashed, clearing her throat awkwardly, “Sorry about that, won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Yeah, right.” I chuckled unamused, knowing very well they will most likely disappear off to somewhere together the second they get the chance to. Irene looked at me with a small smile, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, lightly bumping her shoulder against mine. I watched as her eyebrows slowly furrowed and nose scrunched, leaning closer to sniff me. I yanked my head back and gave her a confused look, Irene looking even more confused, “What?”

“Uh,” She paused, sniffing me again deeply, her eyebrows raising in mild interest, “Y/N, you kinda smell like those werewolves you hate so much…”

“What?!” I snapped, heart somersaulting in my ribcage as I raised my arms to sniff them thoroughly, then raised the front of my dress too, but smelled nothing peculiar, “No, I don’t. What are you talking about?!”

“I mean, you kinda do,” Irene looked at me like I was crazy, “Especially that Mingi guy—”

“No, I don’t.” I hissed, looming over my best friend, muscles tense and blood boiling, “And don’t ever again bring him up!”

Before Irene could react or even look at me like I was crazy, I stormed off towards the opened gates just as my parents car rolled up, their butler getting off first to open the door for them. I took a deep breath and brushed all thoughts aside, assuring myself that the copious shower and intense perfume I downed on myself surely masked any remaining scent of Mingi’s on my body, Irene must’ve smelled it wrong. Perhaps Mingi was lurking around and that’s why she felt his scent on me.

Two more hours. I only had to survive two more hours of this mayhem until the gates would be closed once again, parents away, serenity coating the Academy once again. I was barely holding on at this point, ears ringing to the point I barely heard anyone talking to me, and head thumping so violently I would’ve willingly asked Mingi to rip my head off. But I had to keep an image, and therefore, I made sure to drink lots of water and mask everything I felt under a small smile that would turn into a grimace whenever nobody was looking at me. Our table was simple and small as it only consisted of my parents and I, and it was more towards the middle of the garden, of course, the prestigious families sat closely together, Irene’s just to our left, with Seulgi a few tables down, Krystal’s nowhere in sight as the druids were seated more towards the entrance, close to the faes. My father and mother found this opportunity perfect to spread their business ideas to the other night creatures, thankfully not bothering me as much as I thought they would. However, the second we sat down to eat is when the real headache started as they drilled me with questions and didn’t fail to remind me of our principles and rules that I must follow at all times.

When my mother saw me, she wasn’t too keen of the changes done to the dress, but she said nothing as she enveloped me in a big hug, smiling at me brightly as she pulled away, her skin absolutely perfect and glinting in the sunlight. She looked very young, almost younger than me, her vampire genes certainly more on the fortunate side, thankfully passed down to me as well. My father was less affectionate, but he was quick to offer me a side hug and smile at me cheekily, playfully asking if I had been up to no good last night as he apparently knew about the bonfire party. I merely laughed and brushed it off, assuring him that I was in bed by twelve, my beauty sleep absolutely necessary. They didn’t have to know of my endeavors last night, not that they would’ve been against me mingling with a werewolf, the opposite, my parents were huge werewolf lovers and supporters. After the clergy, they were the first ones to preach unity between our kinds, urging everyone to love and respect each other, to live in harmony. One would think almost losing their only daughter to a monster would scar them, but they only became bigger believers of the necessity of peace between us, using me as an example quite often. Perhaps my parents played a significant part in my life when it came to me hating werewolves so much.

Barely even half an hour had passed since their arrival when I felt my mother adjusting my hair and telling me to stand up straight, eyebrows furrowed as she kept leaning close, inspecting my face closely. She muttered about the skin of my neck being darker, and for a second, I thought the coverage came off, but my father just told her to leave me alone as nothing was wrong with my neck. I knew my mother would keep a scrutinizing eye on me, but I hoped she wouldn’t try to spot every little flaw about me today. However, that wasn’t the case as she pinched her nose and threw me a disgusted look. I paled, mouth hanging open as she cleared her throat, slapping my father’s arm as she motioned towards me.

“Sweetheart, doesn’t she smell a bit funny today?” She had asked my father, making me freeze as they both stared at me. I felt like a little child all over again.

“Not at all, let the girl relax a little, dear, she’s been tense all day,” My father had sighed and had gently pulled me into his side, chuckling, “She’s walking a bit funny, I bet those physical training classes are quite challenging for you.”

If my face looked as mortified as I had felt in that moment, my parents said nothing about it, they just hummed to each other and let me off, asking me to walk with them as they caught up with old acquittances and present business partners. I wanted to burry myself hearing my parents words, but I just brushed them off and laughed anytime someone mentioned my scent being a little different, hands clenching behind my back into fists, itching to connect with Mingi’s sharp jaw.

Finally, my parents have grown bored of talking to everyone and we were seated at our table currently, them enjoying the copious amount of food placed on our table, me, not so much. I ate very little and told them that I have fed earlier in the morning and wasn’t feeling too keen about having human food as well, which, thankfully, they accepted and didn’t push for more answers. The truth was that I would’ve thrown up right then and there if they would’ve forced me to eat the raw meat on my plate. My eyes were trained on the Song family’s table as my eardrums shook each time they roared with laughter, falling off chairs and conversing just way too loudly taken the setting we were in. I grit my teeth as the sunlight fell perfectly on Mingi’s face, coating him in a golden hue as his longish hair had little braids in it, highlighting the red against his blonde hair. Everything about him was infuriating, and I gulped when my stomach started doing weird flips upon hearing his laughter. His mouth opened wide and his head fell back, body shaking in time with his wheezes, soft skin looking like precious gemstones glinting under the sunlight. I scoffed and grabbed my tall glass, taking a sip of my orange juice as Wooyoung’s witchy laughter pierced my ears, making me shut my eyes in pain.

“Are you still sensitive, love?” My father’s gruff voice made my eyes snap open as I averted my gaze from the Song’s, looking at my father with a forced smile on my lips.

“Yes, some days it’s worse than others.” I explained, making him hum as he looked at my mother.

“Well, that’s not exactly healthy,” He muttered under his breath before shaking his head, “but many things changed in your immune system after you were bitten—”

“I don’t want to talk about this here.” I snapped, voice harsh and body tense as my grip tightened around my glass. Anyone could hear us. My faded bite mark suddenly started pulsating hotly against my skin and I gulped, heartrate accelerating.

“Dear, it’s nothing to be ashamed of—”

“Mother,” I snapped, eyes shooting to her, “Not here.”

My parents fell silent as I remained tense, shooting them piercing stares, the two of them sighing in sync as my mother leaned back in her chair, looking defeated.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re doing alright.” My father suddenly smiled and reached over the table, patting my hand a few times. I nodded with a silent hum and took another gulp of my orange juice, eyes finding the Song table again as they roared with laughter once again. I was about to sneer in their direction, when I realized Mingi was already looking at me, eyebrows lightly furrowed. I threw him a piercing stare, making him avert his gaze as he joined the cheers of his family, making me scoff.

“Aren’t they just a lovely bunch?” My mother mused with a dreamy sigh, “I have always wished vampires were able to reproduce more than once. Imagine all the little fangs we’d find once they fell out, little toes hitting the floorboards loudly, the giggles resounding in our vast mansion, the warm feeling of being a big family.”

Nothing could’ve sounded more horrible than the exact same thing my mother was describing. My father chuckled and took a sip of his wine, watching the Song family too now, “I bet those five pups were rascals while growing up.”

“Still are.” I muttered underneath my breath, thankful that my parents were too busy staring yearningly at the Song family.

“I love the warm and homey feeling they spread around themselves,” My mother smiled fondly, looking back at me, making me sick to my stomach when I saw the look in her eyes, “They truly are a treasure to Nocturnal Parade, lighting up every corner they pass with their positive energy. You’re lucky you get to go to the Academy at the same time as the pups.”

“Lucky,” I almost snorted, but quickly masked it as I took another sip of my orange juice, eyes finding Mingi’s again, “You’re right. I’m so lucky.”

For some unknown reason, I felt enticed by Mingi’s eyes on me, mind fuzzy for a second as I watched him stand and excuse himself from his parents, headed towards the side of the garden where large pillars kept the construction of the greenhouse up. My jaw ticked and I took a deep breath, trying to fight the sudden urge to go after Mingi, but I figured he deserved to be chastised for leaving his strong scent all over me, so, I quickly stood and told my parents I would be back as I tried not to hurry after him, instead ended up doing a speedwalk towards Mingi. When I came up behind him, I grabbed his arm and yanked him after me, away from the prying eyes and curious glances, behind a tall pillar, silence finally enveloping around me as I was away from the loud chatter and laughter of the gardens.

“What are you—”

“Why do I still smell like you?!” I snapped, glaring at Mingi as he pulled his arm out of my grip rather harshly, “Everyone can tell, Mingi! I thought nobody was supposed to know about—”

“And nobody knows, alright?!” Mingi snapped back, eyebrows furrowed as he didn’t look me in the eyes, “It’s not my fault you smell like me. It happens with anyone, not just me, Y/N.”

“Well nobody else’s scent I’ve slept with was as strong as yours, so it is your fault.” I hissed back, stepping closer, confused as to why Mingi wasn’t looking me in the face. Something felt off, something was wrong. I could simply feel it. There was a nervosity in my system that wasn’t there before, I almost felt the way Mingi looked. My faced blanked as something dropped deep in my stomach, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden need to reach out and touch Mingi. There was something so magnetic about him, something so luring that I stepped back with a gasp, watching Mingi alarmed and confused as his head whipped up.

“What have you done to me?” I asked in a whisper, hugging myself, trying to comfort myself as Mingi’s mouth fell open, gaping at me. The color drained from his face and my heartrate matched his as it started racing, profoundly confused.

“No—nothing.” It wasn’t like Mingi to stutter, it wasn’t like Mingi to suddenly avert his eyes and look small. It unsettled me and made me feel more panicked as I took a step forward, eyebrows furrowing more.

“Mingi.” I hissed, leaning down to try and look into his eyes, but he just looked further away, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

“No?” Mingi sounded far away from being convincing and I licked my lips in frustration, reaching out and grabbing his elbow. Mingi’s head whipped up towards me suddenly, his body heat so overwhelming that I felt dizzy as his cinnamon scent entered my senses, so calming that I felt my tense muscles suddenly relax. It was too confusing, never having experienced something like it before.

“I—” Mingi hesitated, sounding almost breathless as he looked me in my eyes finally, “I have imprinted on you, Y/N.”

“What?!” I screamed, releasing his elbow as if it burned me, eyes bulging and jaw on the floor as everything stilled around me. Mingi looked nervous and embarrassed as his cheeks flushed red, clearing his throat when I said nothing else, hoping that he’d say that he was just pulling a stupid prank on me.

“Mingi.” I hissed, getting all up in his face in a sudden burst of anger, glaring at him furiously, “What do you mean you imprinted on me?!”

“Exactly that, Y/N, oh, my God.” Mingi groaned, rubbing his face, taking a deep breath.

“No.” I snapped, fisting his grey sweater, “I—I refuse. No, unimprint on me or something!”

“What?” Mingi looked confused, rolling his eyes, “I can’t unimprint on you—that word doesn’t even exist, Y/N.”

“I don’t care what word exists and doesn’t, Mingi.” I hissed, yanking him down to be eye level with me, “You can’t fucking imprint on me. I’m a vampire and you’re a werewolf. What is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, stop being a bitch!” Mingi hissed, gripping my wrists. Electricity coursed through my skin where he touched me and my eyes widened in fright, giving him a look, but it didn’t seem to phase Mingi.

“Do you imprint on everyone you sleep with?!” I hissed, body shaking in anger, heart beating fast. It wasn’t helping that Mingi looked calm, almost defeated, as if this was final and he had accepted his fate.

The glare he gave me was sharp and unimpressed, “That’s not what this was—”

“Really?!” My voice raised again, panic coating my voice, “Because we were completely fine until last night, Mingi! And now you’re telling me that—you—I—that we’re—mates?!”

“We’ll be mates if you accept me, I thought you knew this by now—”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” I exclaimed, breathing fast as Mingi’s fingers suddenly started rubbing the skin of my wrist softly, sighing quietly, “You can’t imprint on me.”

“Calm down first, your heart is beating like crazy.” Mingi whispered, voice soft and raspy, warm brown eyes boring into mine. I felt on the verge of teras as his warmth engulfed me, coating me in safety I’ve never felt before, a bubble of safety and calmness wrapping around us. He started taking slow deep breaths, making me subconsciously copy him as I felt myself relax once again, shake his hands off once I felt fine. I took a step back and was rather rattled when my body instantly yearned for Mingi’s. This was bad. Very bad.

“You need to sort this out, Mingi.” I gestured around wildly, eyes wide, “Whatever you do, I don’t care. But you can’t imprint on me.”

“Well, I already did.” Mingi seemed annoyed as his words felt sharp, giving me a pointed stare, “So accept it, because it won’t change.”

“You can’t just say that!” I whisper-shouted, feeling furious again as Mingi continued acting nonchalant about this whole ordeal.

“I’m not as horrible as you think I am—”

“Mingi.” I snapped, shaking my head at him, “No. Just no. We’re not having this conversation. Unimprint on me and we’re done, that’s it!”

“I just told you, I can’t possibly—”

“Mingi?” A quiet voice called out, soft and timid as I whirled around, Mingi walking past me instantly.

“Yes, Dahyun?” Mingi smiled, previous tension and anger gone from his face, and he crouched in front of his much shorter sister. Dahyun gave me a warry look before poking Mingi’s cheek, giggling.

“Mom and dad are wondering where you are,” She muttered, casting me another warry look, “I saw you walking off with the vampire that smells like you, so I told them I’ll bring you back.”

It wasn’t hard to notice Mingi’s body freeze at his younger sister’s words and I scoffed, completely flabbergasted that this little girl could tell I smelled like Mingi. This was the absolute worst, and I was close to simply ceasing my existence once and for all. Before they could say anything to me, I stormed past them, headed back to my table, thinking of excuses I could use to get my parents out of the garden and away from the Song family.

The past few days have been…silent, weird, different, empty, almost. They felt unsettling and I found myself unable to sleep at night, and even if I did, I would wake up in a cold sweat, chest heavy and lungs heaving for air. Something just simply didn’t feel alright and I knew there was nothing wrong with me per se, with my vampire being, yet something was affecting me rather harshly. And it was noticeable in my appearance as well. No matter how often and how much I fed, my skin looked sickly pale and the glow of my dense hair seemed absent no matter how much I tried fixing it. My cheeks had fallen slightly in, creating a hollowness in them that wasn’t there before. I looked like I was decaying and I didn’t understand why when I was completely healthy and fine. Yet, something was doing this to me and I couldn’t help but blame it on this whole imprinting thing, and Mingi. I haven’t seen him since Parents Day, and despite deciding to avoid him for an eternity, it seemed like Mingi had the same thing in mind as me. Even in our shared classes, he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t even smell him or hear him, yet Yunho was certainly there, his aura very much so present. Nobody said anything, perhaps too afraid to make a comment about my sickly appearance, and I knew I needed answers. I couldn’t go on like this anymore despite not wanting to see Mingi. There was something very wrong about my body, something internal and scarily real as the longer I stayed away from him, the stronger the yearning became. The heaviness in my chest only got worse with each ticking minute, and I knew I couldn’t go on like this anymore when I started listening in on the creatures’ conversations around me, searching for Mingi’s name, searching for his voice even, for his infuriatingly loud and obnoxious laughter, his unbearable stench, and his stupid siblings. I needed to put an end to my own suffering, therefore I decided to act like an adult for the first time in my life, and find Mingi in order to talk things through, even if I didn’t want to.

History of the Vampires was an excruciatingly long class and I couldn’t wait to be finished with it, unable to sit still as my mind kept wandering elsewhere, desperately trying to clock Mingi’s voice or even aura in the building. But it was harder to find him than I thought it would be, almost as if he was hiding himself from me, Yunho’s strong aura overbearing Mingi’s whenever they were together. And I knew those two were together as I searched for familiar voices conversing, lowering my head so that my professor wouldn’t notice my closed eyes as I focused on singling out Mingi’s raspy and deep voice amongst his siblings as they were out in the fields, not too far away from the classroom I was in. Dahyun was talking to him, and it was the first time I heard the younger girl’s voice for such a long period, animatedly retelling a story to Mingi about a boy she liked in her class. At first I thought Mingi wasn’t talking to her, until I realized Wooyoung and Yeri’s cackling was too loud for me to pinpoint Mingi’s soft voice as he muttered to Dahyun words I couldn’t understand. It felt alarming how easily I found myself wanting to know more about Mingi’s bond with his siblings, wondering whether I would fit in with them. And it was hard to listen to Mingi’s quiet voice as he departed with Yunho from the rest of their siblings, the twins headed to class as Mingi’s aura remained still dull, washed out by Yunho’s. I didn’t think masking one’s existence was possible, but then again, I didn’t know much about werewolves and their abilities as I always remained ignorant to them due to my hatred towards them.

Once class was over I excused myself from my friends in a hurry, finally able to pinpoint Mingi’s exact location as Yunho wasn’t so close to him anymore, making it easy for me to follow Mingi’s voice and scent. He was two floors below my classroom, having their own history class about Werewolves. By the time I got to the classroom not many students were there, however, I could hear a few still inside, Mingi included. Closing my eyes as I leaned against the stone wall, I could hear him scribbling something in his notebook, muttering to himself about having forgotten to do his physics homework. Yunho had left Mingi behind, saying that he was becoming restless, and how he needed a run before their next class. The full moon was tonight, I could only assume it had something to do with their moods, werewolves became rather restless in the afternoons on full moon nights. Finally, the last three students left the classroom laughing and whispering to each other, looking back inside, no doubt gawking at Mingi. Something clenched in my stomach, making me hiss at the three girls as they passed in front of me, looking fearful once they noticed who I was. The scurried away and I couldn’t help but smirk in glee, that is until I heard Mingi scrambling around the classroom, gathering his things to leave. I took a deep breath and willed myself to push off the wall, hands slightly trembling as I appeared in the doorway just when Mingi was about to step through it.

He gasped; eyes wide. Our gazed connected and I couldn’t help but smile at him, tilting my head in wonder as he gulped hard, audibly, licking his chapped lips. There was little distance between our bodies, and he suddenly took three big steps backwards, making my eyebrows furrow in disdain as his comfortable warmth disappeared with him. My heart shouldn’t have picked up so fast, racing just at the sight of him, senses flooded with his cinnamon and fresh grass scent. I took a step forward, the door shutting behind me with a loud thud, trapping Mingi and I inside the otherwise empty classroom. The windows were open, a warm fresh breeze slithering inside. It probably wasn’t the reason why Mingi’s cheeks were suddenly flushed, gaze averted again as he cleared his throat loudly, as if something was stuck there. I allowed myself a short moment to take in his appearance, and was taken aback to find him sickly looking, dark bags underneath his tired looking eyes, lips chapped to the point of looking painful, and cheeks as hollow as mine. It was startling, and it only raised more questions in my mind as I took a deep breath, the strong cinnamon scent burning the back of my throat.

“We need to speak,” I spoke up, voice unsure as I continued looking at Mingi, who was still avoiding eye contact, “something is…happening to me.”

Ever so slowly, he turned his head, eyes reluctantly falling on me. His thick eyebrows furrowed as his eyes racked my body, then stopped on my face, looking very confused, “Were you avoiding me?”

Mingi hummed, pursing his lips as he cleared his throat, “Yes.”

I didn’t expect him to be so honest, for some reason it didn’t feel nice at all, “How did you mask yourself so well?”

“A pack can mask their wolves when sensing danger.” Mingi explained, eyes suddenly steeling as he licked his lips again. My eyebrows furrowed, feeling confused all over again.

“Am I a danger to you?” I found myself whispering, looking at Mingi questioningly. Something in my stomach dropped at the prospect of me being the cause of danger to Mingi.

“With how much you keep threatening me, yes.” I chuckled humorlessly at Mingi’s words, and he looked just as unamused as I felt. His shoulders were slouched forward as he shook his head, looking defeated, “What do you want, Y/N?”

“To talk.”

“Then talk.”

I gulped, feeling off thrown by Mingi’s hostile attitude, acting as if he didn’t even want to see me. Hadn’t he imprinted on me? Weren’t we supposed to be mates now? Why was he being so cold towards me? My heart beat faster, body yearning to feel Mingi’s warmth so desperately that I had to dig my nails in my palms to stop myself from marching up to him and latching myself onto his body.

“Ever since you—imprinted on me, I just—I don’t know.” I gulped, averting my eyes as Mingi’s sharp gaze bore into mine, “We haven’t seen each other in almost four days and I—I don’t feel well, Mingi. Something is happening to me, and I don’t understand what—”

I gasped at how fast Mingi closed the gap between us, orchid-colored eyes boring into mine, making me shrink back in fear. Have I angered him again? Was he going to hurt me? But to my surprise, Mingi’s hand gently cupped my cheek as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it in his lungs as I remained still, afraid to breathe. Nobody spoke as he slowly exhaled, eyes snapping open, once again brown, staring at me with a newfound softness in them. I gulped, taken aback by the tingles traveling all over my body, cheek warm from Mingi’s palm, a safety bubble nestling around us. I felt complete again, the heaviness in my chest not as strong as before, my heartbeat beating fast like never before, a pull so strong towards Mingi deep in my being that I realized I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Mingi licked his lips again, suddenly looking like he’s made up his mind about something, softly exhaling again as he opened his mouth to speak, probably, but I couldn’t focus on anything else anymore but the feel of Mingi so close to myself. I didn’t need to hear his words in this moment, I needed to feel him. And I did just that as I desperately cupped his cheeks, pressing my lips against his. Mingi froze, unmoving and hand falling from my cheek limply as I squeezed my eyes shut tight, inhaling his comforting scent as our lips molded together.

As I went to pull back, realizing that Mingi wouldn’t kiss back, suddenly fingers tangled in my hair and pushed my head back with a newfound force, our lips crashing against each other as Mingi whimpered, not wasting any time as he set a bruising pace. My hands slipped from his cheeks to hug around his neck as I flushed my body against his, sighing into the kiss as my body almost felt like it was lit from the inside, heart fluttering, and the yearning in my stomach turning into a desperate want as the pace of our slick lips quickened, desperately needing more of Mingi. I moaned against his mouth as he captured my bottom lip between his lips, suckling on it softly before licking it, and hovering his lips against mine, breathing through his mouth as shivers racked my spine. My fingers tangled in his hair, which was in a half-up ponytail again, and I quickly got rid of the hair tie as I gently pulled on his soft locks, parting my mouth in permission for Mingi. I could hear his heart beating like crazy, faster than mine even, and in a flash, his tongue was pushing past my lips, tangling with mine, my skin feeling as if it was on fire. Mingi was warm, almost to the point he was burning up, and I failed to notice it getting transferred to my own body as I clung to him, moaning when he skillfully licked inside my mouth, taking his sweet time to suck on my tongue before allowing me to push mine inside his mouth, relishing in the quiet whimpers that left the back of his throat. His hands eagerly explored my body as they slowly slipped towards my backside, squeezing my ass hard through the skirt of my uniform, my eyebrows furrowing as I tried not to moan. With our heads now tilted, I felt myself turn into a puddle as Mingi hiked one of my leg’s up before making me jump up, legs squeezing around his waist firmly as I held onto him. Mingi didn’t stop kissing me as he walked us towards a desk, gently setting me down as we broke apart for a second to fill our lungs with air.

As he tried to step back, I tightened my legs around his waist and pulled him even closer to myself, biting my lower lip when his heavily ring clad fingers grasped at my left thigh, black tinted nails digging into my flesh. Mingi’s hot puffs of air landed on my lips and I licked mine, failing to notice the lust in Mingi’s eyes as he watched me closely, eyes constantly flickering between brown and orchid. He rested his right hand on the desk, next to my hip, as he pressed his forehead against mine. My breathing was heavy as I realized just how badly I needed to feel all of him, feeling on the verge of craze as he lifted his chin ever so slightly when I went to kiss his lips, making my eyebrows furrow as I whined at the denial. But I quickly was forced to inhale sharply as Mingi’s calloused, big, hand slowly slipped up higher on my thigh, underneath my skirt, making me groan as he massaged the inside of my thigh, my lips attaching to the skin of chin. It was soft despite the little stubble growing out, and Mingi moaned as my lips travelled lower, pressing open mouthed kissed against his neck, his Adam’s apple, nipping at his hot skin at the junction between his neck and collarbones, slightly distracted by Mingi’s grip on my thigh tightening as I slipped a hand under his shirt. His abdomen was firm and his muscles tensed under my fingertips as Mingi looked down at me while breathing heavily as I blinked at him innocently, a soft groan escaping his lips before he crashed his lips against mine.

It felt like my soul was alive again, a fire lit deep in my stomach as our tongues battled for dominance, and I pulled Mingi’s body flush against mine, moaning when I felt his erection press against my core, fingers tangling in his hair once again firmly. Mingi moaned as I pulled on the longer strands around his nape, making me gasp against his lips as he moved his hips, slowly grinding against me. His warm palm slowly slipped from my thigh and I whined at the loss of it, but his hand instead went and gripped my waist firmly, keeping me in place as he moved slowly, dragging his hard-on against my throbbing core. His free hand cupped my covered breast and I moaned into his mouth as his tongue pushed deep inside my mouth, toes curling as he kept grinding against me, setting my skin on fire, his scent intoxicating as the layers separating us became unbearable.

“Mingi,” I pulled my head back, moaning as Mingi didn’t stop kissing me, latching his lips onto my neck instead, “this isn’t talking—Mingi!”

I yelped as his fangs nipped against the sensitive skin of my neck, making me throw my head back as I gripped his belt, trying to stop him from grinding against me anymore, everything becoming too much.

“Mingi,” I tried again, voice breathless as he sucked at a spot under my collarbones harshly, licking it slowly afterwards, “we’re in a classroom, we have to stop.”

“I never thought you’d be a prude.” Mingi’s voice was extremely low as he spoke against my skin, lips like feather as they brushed against my heated body.

“I’m not a prude,” I hissed as Mingi’s hips stilled, but with his hard-on pressing sharply against my clothed core, “but if a professor walks in, we’re done for.”

Mingi groaned and he raised his head to rest his forehead against my shoulder, taking deep breaths as I licked my lips, staring up at the ceiling as I tried to ignore the desperate need to rip his clothes off and let him take me on this desk. Mingi took a deep breath, which tickled me once he exhaled, and I felt him move as he looked up at me, releasing my waist as he gently cupped my face again, pushing the strands of hair behind my ears, smiling cutely as his cheeks were flushed pink.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alive before.” He whispered, truly looking like he felt lighter. It was a little disheartening as I realized that the heaviness was lifted off of my chest, my own skin buzzing with excitement as I felt myself smiling back. The truth was that I felt the same as Mingi, but I was too afraid to admit it. Something was changing and I was afraid to acknowledge it when I spent my whole life hating on the species right in front of me, in between my legs, making my heart swell with his gorgeous smile and cute flush, his deep eyes, and clumsy personality. I was still afraid of werewolves, I still hated them, but I couldn’t deny the sudden pull towards Mingi anymore.

“We have to talk.” I didn’t mean to break the serene bubble around us, but we needed to clarify so many things, “I have too many questions, and you have a lot to explain.”

Mingi nodded with a hum, lowering his head, surprising me as he slowly nuzzled his cheek against mine, inhaling deeply, making me blush as the endearing action. Nobody has ever done that before, and it made my skin jittery as it felt good.

“I promise we will talk, but tonight’s the full moon and my mind is all fogged-up, Y/N,” Mingi explained as he gave me an awkward smile, “I can’t exactly…think right now, if you know what I mean. And I don’t want to do something we’d both regret later. All I can think about is marking you right now, and that needs a serious conversation first.”

My heart jumped in fright at the mention of marking, and I gulped as I slowly nodded my head, realizing finally that Mingi had no malicious intentions towards me. If he did, he wouldn’t be saying things like that, nor treating me gently. I offered him a small smile and he chuckled, leaning down to press a lasting kiss against my lips.

“It’s a shame we must stop, but,” Mingi smiled cheekily as he removed himself from my body, much to my dismay, “I have to go to class, I’m already late, and I know Yunho will come looking for me in exactly three minutes.”

I chuckled as I watched Mingi try and straighten his clothes, brushing through his long strands, searching for the hair tie, which seemed to be gone. I grinned as he gave up searching for it, instead went and grabbed his backpack discarded on the floor.

“See you tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrows, still adjusting his messy hair, “When I’m not thinking with my dick?”

I snorted, nodding my head as I licked my lips and crossed my legs, remaining seated on top of the desk, “See you tomorrow after lunch break, I know you have a free period.”

“Someone’s been stalking me, huh?” Mingi smirked as I looked away embarrassed, gulping before I admitted a little secret of mine.

“When you spend so much time hating on someone, it’s alarming how much you learn about them.” Mingi’s smirk only widened to my horror, completely amused by my admission, instead of feeling hurt or even angry.

“What a little freak I have to deal with—”

“I’m not a freak!” I exclaimed in irritation, making Mingi chuckle as he walked backwards towards the door.

“We’ll see after I find out more about you,” He winked as he opened the door, “Take care, doll.”

I rolled my eyes as my face flushed at the pet name, and my eyes stayed glued to the door even after Mingi was long gone, his footsteps faded as he made his way towards his classroom, Yunho making a ruckus as to why he was late and why he looked so shaken up. I chuckled and fell backwards on the desk, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as I raised my hands, playing with the black hair tie around my wrist. This was becoming real, wasn’t it?

I bobbed my head to the music as I wrote down some more numbers, rubbing my forehead as I had been doing equations for more than an hour now. It was late in the evening, and after Irene and I studied for a while together, she said she needed to go somewhere, and left around half an hour ago. She promised she’d be back early tonight and we could have a girl’s night, but I had my doubts about that as I knew she was with Seulgi. It didn’t bother me as much as it normally would’ve as my mind was distracted with thoughts of Mingi, impatiently waiting for tomorrow to arrive so that we’d finally discuss where this…something…was headed between us. The wind had picked up and it was rattling the old hinges of the window, and I turned my head to look out the window, lightning in the distance. A storm was coming, and the dark clouds made it hard to spot the full moon, but its light was strong enough to pinpoint it on the dark sky.

As I started solving another equation, the guitar in the song I was listening to was soft and calming, but there were rapid knocks against the door of the room, disturbing my peace, making me look towards it with furrowed eyebrows. It was almost eight in the evening, slowly we were approaching curfew. Only the wolves were allowed outside past curfew tonight, so it made me wonder who it could have been. I placed my pen down and pushed away from my desk, standing and stretching my stiff muscles as I went to swing the door open. I was rather surprised to find a short, dark haired, girl standing in the hallway, chewing on her lower lip as she looked up at me. We stared at each other for a few seconds, me flabbergasted to find Dahyun standing in my doorway, and the little girl staring past me, inside my room, wonderingly.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing.

“Is Mingi here?” She asked quietly, trying to look inside my room again.

“No, why?” I answered curtly, watching the girl warily.

“Are you sure?” She pressed, looking up with a glare at me, “Are you lying to me?”

I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest as a rather strong gust of wind rattled the windows out in the hallway. The lights flickered for a second, making both Dahyun and I pause as we looked around.

“Why would I lie to you?” I asked once Dahyun faced me again, and I rolled my eyes when the girl continued glaring at me, “Be my guest and have a look inside my room. I haven’t seen Mingi, why would I even know where he is? Isn’t he your brother?”

Dahyun didn’t seem too happy with my answer, and suddenly her small hand grabbed mine and I was yanked down with such force that I gasped, taken aback by just how strong the little werewolf girl was. I stiffened when her face suddenly pressed forward, nose pressing against the junction between my neck and collarbone, inhaling deeply.

“What—what are you doing?” I stuttered, brushing the girl off, feeling weirded out.

“Mingi scented you.” The girl said, eyebrows furrowing as she took a step back, taking me in fully, “You smell like him, that’s why I thought he was here.”

I felt rather confused as I smelled myself, but felt no scent of Mingi on myself. What did she mean that he scented me? Wasn’t that a werewolf thing? How could he even scent a vampire? When did he do it that I didn’t even notice?

“I don’t smell like him.” I objected, glaring down at the girl as she looked suddenly scared when there was a flash of lightning in the distance. I opened my mouth to send her off, but the way she latched onto my arm and looked up at me pleadingly made me pause.

“I can’t feel Mingi’s scent,” The little girl whimpered, “and a storm is coming, I’m scared. Mingi always tucks me in before bed, and I’ve searched for him everywhere and I can’t find him.”

I felt awkward as I cleared my throat, not knowing how to comfort the distressed girl, “Uh, well, you have many siblings. Go find them.”

“I need to find Mingi.” Dahyun stressed, “I know where Yunho is as I can feel his aura and smell his scent, but for some reason Mingi’s gone. I’m scared something happened to him, Y/N.”

I gulped, suddenly fearing the same as I tried to listen closely as I searched for Mingi’s voice in the vicinity, but came up empty handed. I sighed as I continued looking at the girl, who started shaking now, and I shook my head, “Wooyoung and Yeri will certainly help you.”

“Wooyoung is also shifting tonight and Yeri didn’t even open the door when I told her it was me knocking,” My eyebrows furrowed at the cruelty of her older sister, feeling a sneer wanting to settle on my face, “Can you help me, please?”

Perhaps the sweet, and teary, puppy eyes staring up into mine were what broke my resolve as I sighed and nodded tiredly, watching a smile appear on Dahyun’s face, “Where should I look for Mingi?”

“They are usually at the shed at this time.” She said, detaching herself from me. My eyebrows furrowed as my heart lightly picked up, mouth going dry at the prospect of having to step outside during a full moon while the campus was littered with wild, animalistic, werewolves running around freely.

“I can’t go out there, I’m sorry.” I muttered, eyebrows furrowed, “The whole place is infested with werewolves and I—”

“They haven’t shifted yet, I promise.” Dahyun quickly interjected, “Mingi always struggles shifting, and Yunho always waits for him. Please, it’s not dangerous to look for them, they are very docile and still recognize everyone in their wolf forms. Please, Y/N, please.”

I gulped and looked outside through the window behind Dahyun, feeling a coldness seep through my bones the longer I thought about this stupid request. But I couldn’t deny that I also felt worried for Mingi now, and one more look at Dahyun had me giving in, “Alright, wait here, and I’ll go look for Mingi. If Irene, my roommate, comes back, tell her that I let you stay here until I come back, okay?”

“Yes, thank you very much!” Dahyun almost cried in happiness as she walked inside my room, making me sigh again as I grabbed my light cardigan, wrapping it around myself tightly as I left the room. I tied my hair with the black hair tie forgotten on my wrist as I knew the harsh wind would whip it all around in my face.

Perhaps coming out to the shed in a long skirt and a t-shirt with nothing but a cardigan on in such violent wind wasn’t the brightest idea as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm myself by rubbing my hands up and down quickly. However, it offered little to no warmth, and I shivered as I heard howling in the distance, my skirt getting caught in dry weed as I hissed, tumbling a little forward and into the door of the shed. At least I have finally reached it. It isn’t too far from the dorms, but it’s on the outskirts of the forest, and I could feel my heartbeat picking up as I knocked on the door loudly.

“Mingi?!” I called out over the loud wind, carefully pushing the door open, sticking my head inside to see if anyone was in. But it seemed empty and I took a warry step inside, feeling my eyes turn scarlet as my senses spiked as I felt on edge so exposed and alone. I slowly walked further inside, scanning the shed, but Mingi’s scent was absent, and he was nowhere to be seen as well. I sighed as I tightened the cardigan around myself and leaned over the table discarded in the middle of the room, finding clothes scattered around. I could smell the stench of wet dog, yet Mingi’s scent was absent. Maybe it weren’t his clothes, however the disregarded chains looked a lot like his necklaces. I sighed, and went to turn around when the old floorboard creaked up front, making me freeze. I slowly raised my head, looking around again, feeling my heartbeat quicken even more.

“Mingi?” I whispered, chewing on my bottom lip in fear, my breath coming in short as there was another creak. Just as I opened my mouth to call out his name again, two glowing orchid-colored eyes appeared in the dense darkness, making me gasp loudly as my hands slapped against the desk as they fell from around my body. I stared into the beasts eyes as it stepped forward from the shadows, form huge and menacing as its fangs were long. Its fur was midnight black and thick, scent completely unrecognizable as I tried to sniff around for Mingi. My body trembled as we looked each other dead in the eyes, memories of that dreadful night flashing in my mind.

The weather had been similar, wind blowing harshly and a distant rumble in the skies as the storm was fast approaching. I was playing in the flower field on our propriety, gathering flowers before the pouring rain arrived, humming a song to myself, oblivious to the world around myself. I had turned five years old just a few days ago, I had no worries in the world, nothing to be afraid of. That is until I realized something was snarling not too far away from me, staring at me piercingly, as I giggled while playing with my imaginary friends. It wasn’t a full moon, but for rogue werewolves it didn’t matter whether it was day or night, full moon or not. Just as I was about to turn around and leave for the mansion, it pounced on me, snarling in my face as I was pinned to the cold ground, shrieking and screaming as its saliva dripped on me. I could still remember, and feel, the pure terror that coursed through my whole being, screaming and calling for my parents to help me. The werewolf didn’t like that I was being so loud, or a vampire, and it bared its teeth at me when I started crying, begging it to let me go. The rogue wolf was scary and strong, no matter how hard I tried to escape, I couldn’t. It happened in a flash, it’s claws pressing painfully against my chest as its teeth ripped through the skin of my forearm, making me cry out so loudly that I thought I broke my vocal cords. It felt as if someone pushed a burning rod inside my body one after another, two sharp needles ripping your skin apart, tearing you up from the inside. My body started convulsing as I continued screaming, mind hazy and breathing ragged from the excruciating pain. I didn’t remember much after that, only waking up numb in the hospital, tubes connected to my left arm and bicep bandaged tightly, my mother sitting at my side, and only crying harder when she saw I had opened my eyes. The second my father walked in with the werewolf doctor is when everything suddenly dawned on me, sending me into a hysterical fit, to the point I needed to be sedated, trembling and crying out for the poor doctor to stay away from me. It was a trauma I was forced to live with, and I could never actually put it past myself, that pain forever present in the back of my mind as my faded bite mark started pulsing painfully once again.

I took a slow step backwards, barely even moving, but the werewolf caught it and suddenly snarled, making me jump in terror as even my head started shaking violently in fear. I was taken back to that day, when I was a defenseless little girl, almost killed by a monster so similar to the one facing me right now. My attacker had black fur with white patches, I could never forget its fur and orchid eyes. I knew wolves had the urge to chase their prey once they started running, but it was either I stayed here and surely died, or tried to run and save myself. I acted upon realizing I wasn’t ready to die at the claws of this monster, and turned swiftly, taking off as I heard the werewolf howl behind me, jumping over the table to chase after me. I screamed when I realized he was really after me, snarling and howling every few minutes, a lot faster than I had anticipated. I had to grip my skirt and raise it above my knees as my lungs burned and muscles strained, never having ran this fast before in my life. My mind was only focused on saving myself, on taking me far away from danger. I didn’t realize that I was running further inside the forest instead of heading towards the dorms, where the werewolves were forbidden of entering once they have shifted.

I ran even faster as my sensitive ears picked up on the loud thuds the werewolf was making as it chased after me, snarling louder, sounding completely furious as I was gasping for air, lungs completely empty and begging for me to take a breather, but if I stopped, I would die. I pushed even more, using my inhumane speed to try and get rid of the beast, but it seemed like it did nothing as the wolf chased after me without sounding tired and nowhere near of giving up on its pursuit of me. I was becoming desperate, I couldn’t go on like this for much longer, my body was shaking despite me running. I was filled with adrenaline, heart pumping my blood fast as I ran for my life, until I felt the werewolf nipping at the back of my skirt with its large teeth, making me cry out in fright. I turned my head to see the distance between us, but it was a foolish action as it caused me to lose my footing, tripping in the huge twigs scattered around the forest floor, sending me to the ground with a painful tumble. I cried out as I felt my skin scrape through my cardigan, even if it would heal in mere seconds, it was still painful. I hadn’t even realized that I have started crying, and now that the werewolf was just a foot behind me, snarling and hissing at me animalistically, I started crying loudly, trying to get away from it until my back hit a tree.

“Please,” I whimpered, jumping when the wolf growled at me, staring me menacingly in the eyes. I shook my head and pressed my hands against my mouth, lungs heaving for air as my whole body shook, eyes filled to the brim with tears, my vision blurry, “Mingi!”

I didn’t understand why I called out his name, but I found myself desperately clinging onto his name as if it would save me, as if it would send the werewolf away, “Mingi! Please, Mingi! Help!”

My screams were shrill and my throat hurt, but it only made me shake more as the black wolf growled and almost jumped at me, hitting its paws against the forest floor annoyed, hissing, and puffing. I could feel the pain I felt that day, spreading from my bicep down to my arm, infecting my brain with that excruciating ache, and I started sobbing as I pressed my head against my knees, curling up in a ball as if it would’ve protected me from the beast. I didn’t even realize it in that moment, but I started calling out Mingi’s name as if it were a mantra, praying to all celestial powers that he would show up and save me from this monster, which was coming closer and closer, its hisses and growls louder by the second. I hate werewolves, I hate them so much, yet I was calling out the name of one until my throat was too dry to scream anymore. Only my sobs could be heard around us, and the scream I let out when I felt arms wrapping around me, sending me into a panicked state as I trashed around, trying to fight the grip they had on me off. I couldn’t hear and I couldn’t see due to the deep-rooted fear I felt, that is, until a faint voice slowly started getting to me, my brain registering the familiar rasp of it, the deep tone I was used to hearing.

“Y/N, Y/N, please, it’s me,” The voice was soft and scared, sounding almost like it was talking to a scared little child, “It’s me, Y/N, Mingi. I’m Mingi, you’re safe, please—”

My arms flew around Mingi’s neck as I threw myself at him, gasping for air loudly as I clung to him to the point my nails dug into his naked shoulders, drawing blood. Mingi’s body felt warm, muscles stiff, but he instantly cradled me against himself, fingers tangling in my hair as he started quietly shushing me. I continued to cry for a few more minutes, hard to completely calm down, but Mingi’s warmth and reassuring words seemed to get my heartrate back to normal, making me forget the panic I felt just minutes ago.

“You’re alright, I’m here.” Mingi’s nose pressed into my hair, lips barely brushing against my ear as he whispered quietly into it, “You’re safe, I’m here. Nothing will hurt you, Y/N, you can calm down now. I’m here, I got you.”

I let out a shuddered breath as I closed my eyes, pressing my face into Mingi’s neck and inhaling his comforting scent, feeling my muscles ease up as Mingi’s fingers brushed through my disheveled hair, pressing kisses against my temple. I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, heart still beating fast, and body on high alert as the adrenaline didn’t leave me yet.

“Mingi.” I croaked out, slowly pulling my head back to look at him, feeling my lips tremble as I realized just how terrified I had been, “I was so—”

“It’s okay now,” Mingi cut me off with a small smile, expression soft as he nuzzled his nose against mine, closing his eyes for a second, “You don’t have to talk. Just sit in my arms and calm down.”

“Mingi,” I whispered, feeling the need to cry again, but I forced the tears away just as Mingi’s cheek touched mine, and he nuzzled them together just like he had done earlier today, in the classroom, “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

Mingi looked confused once he pulled back, but when he noticed I was looking at the bloody nail marks on his shoulders, he just chuckled and shrugged, “Don’t worry, I’ve been roughed up way worse before.”

I looked into his eyes again and loosened my suffocating grip around him, but still clung onto him, overlooking the fact that he was completely naked. I was still trembling and afraid, I wasn’t physically able to let go of him yet. And just then, there was a growl to our right, and I gasped as I turned my head and saw the black werewolf standing there, eyes set sharply on Mingi. My body started shaking violently again and I felt my fight or flight kick in again, but Mingi held me strongly against himself, caging me against his body as he hugged me tightly, shushing me when I tried to speak up.

“You, asshole!” Mingi hissed towards the werewolf, making my eyes widen, “What is wrong with you, Yunho?!”

My eyes widened as I snapped my head towards the wolf, finding him shuffling on his four legs, snarling his teeth at us.

“Why would you chase her, are you nuts?!” Mingi’s voice was raising, I could feel his heartrate quicken underneath my cold hand, “You know she has some sort of trauma with werewolves and you go chasing her around the fucking forest, during a full moon, you idiot!”

Mingi’s words were sharp, and it was visible on his face that he was beyond pissed as he snarled his own fangs at the black werewolf, which was Yunho, apparently. I remained silent as I watched the exchange between the twins, one in human form, the other in werewolf form, my muscles tense but not like before as I realized I was away from danger now. There was a whimper and I cast my eyes upon Yunho, who was looking down at the forest floor, dragging his front paws as if he was asking for forgiveness.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, dude,” Mingi snapped, shaking his head in disappointment, “I’m done running around for tonight, go find Wooyoung or someone else. And don’t come back tonight to the dorm after you’re done being an asshole. Get lost!”

I watched with an open mouth as the big, black, and scary werewolf hung its head even lower, cries and whimpers leaving its mouth as it started jumping around, pressing its front paws forcefully and harshly into the solid soil.

“Stop throwing a fit, Yunho.” Mingi said with a roll of his eyes, his hands rubbing my back up and down in a comforting manner, “I won’t tell you to get lost again.”

The werewolf growled, but it lacked power and menace as he cast us one lasting stare before it turned around and ran off with loud howls, making Mingi roll his eyes again before he looked back at me. He had an apologetic look on his face and I sniffed, snot threatening to come out of my nose due to the extensive crying I had done tonight. Mingi’s hands cupped my face again and he gently wiped the fresh tears off, pressing kisses against my cheeks before he pressed a soft one against my lips, my eyes falling shut at the plushness of his warm and soft lips.

“I’m sorry about that,” Mingi sighed, sounding ashamed and disappointed, “Yunho can be a huge idiot. He thought chasing you around was a way to get back at you, but I don’t find it funny at all.”

I gulped and nodded wordlessly, clearing my throat despite it feeling sore, “How did you know…about my trauma…”

Mingi hummed, sitting back and gently pulling me in his lap, my cheeks flushing as he sat naked, looking quite unbothered, as I forced myself to look at his face only, preferably in his warm brown eyes.

“Well, first of all, the bite mark.” Mingi explained, gently touching where my mark was, looking sad, “And well, you know, the whole hatred towards us and all that shit, it’s not hard to put two and two together.”

“I’m sorry.” I found myself whispering, feeling ashamed of myself all of a sudden.

“Hey, don’t be, it’s alright—”

“It’s not,” I cut him off, eyes hardening as I gulped, “I put you through so much just because I’m traumatized, and you have nothing to do with it. I’m a horrible creature.”

“I can’t imagine what you must’ve went through to feel so strongly against us,” Mingi’s fingers intertwined with mine as he rested our hands in my lap, “And I never blamed you for it one second. Of course, your bullying did get too much at times, but I always had my family to back me up and reassure me. I never had a problem with you bothering me as long as you left my family one.”

My cheeks turned pink as I looked to the side, biting my lower lip as Mingi chuckled. I blushed even harder when he leaned closer and kissed my cheek again, “I guess you always had a thing for me.”

“Shut up, Mingi,” I groaned, looking him in the eyes again, “This is so not the moment nor place to turn cocky on me.”

“I could turn into only one thing right now,” Mingi chuckled, eyes flashing an orchid-color, “But I think the cocky thing is something we could take care of faster—”

“Song Mingi!” I slapped his hard chest, glaring at him for saying such things while I sat in his naked lap. Mingi cackled, biting his lower lip once he was done, watching me amused as I tried to get off his lap, but he didn’t let me.

“Glad to see you calm and comfortable again,” Mingi mused, grinning as he ruffled my hair, making it even worse than it already was from all the running, “but I must ask, why the hell were you even outside on a full moon, Y/N?”

“Because of your stupid sister—” I cleared my throat quickly, “I mean, sweet sister, Dahyun. She said she couldn’t feel your scent and was scared of the approaching storm. Plus that you tuck her in every night, so…”

Mingi sighed loudly, looking up at the dark sky. I looked around us, realizing that the sky was rumbling, the lightning just above our heads. I was too distracted to realize that the storm was minutes away from starting.

“That silly girl,” Mingi muttered, chuckling as he gently pushed me off himself, “I hate to tell you, but she was only pranking you, a plan probably elaborated with Yunho—”

“What?!” I exclaimed as I scurried off to my feet, gaping at Mingi as he chuckled, rubbing his nape.

“Yeah, well, uh…you know, she hasn’t let me inside her room since she was in fourth grade, which was like…four years ago.” Mingi pursed his lips, also standing, the view quite a sight as I quickly plastered my gaze on his face only, “She didn’t lie about the storm though as she usually comes to me for comfort. She must’ve gotten scared and went looking for me, having a pretext to send you outside.”

“Why couldn’t she feel your scent, then?” I asked as Mingi suddenly swept me off of my feet, making me yelp as I clung onto him as he held me bridal style.

“I don’t know,” Mingi shrugged, looking nonchalant, “My scent comes and goes sometimes when I shift.”

“Oh,” I muttered, giving Mingi a questioning gaze as he started walking through the forest, headed back to the shed, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you back to the dorms.” He said with a smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “You certainly must’ve grown thirsty after seeing me in all of my naked glory.”

“Mingi.” I blanched, giving him a deadpan look, “You better put me down right now.”

“Hmm, let me think about it,” He pursed his lips mockingly, looking up towards the sky, “No.”

“Mingi—”

“I’ll put you down once we’re in my room.” He winked, and something coiled in my stomach as I gulped.

“Your room?” I mused, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Of course, don’t think I’m leaving you alone tonight, what if the big, scary, black wolf comes back to eat you?” He cackled and I smacked his chest hard, making him groan in pain.

“You’re making me think you were in on the plan too.” I hissed, glaring at his perfect jawline. Mingi chuckled and just shook his head, giving me a pointed stare.

“Tormenting my mate isn’t top of my list, you know?”

“We’re not mates.” I muttered.

“Yet.” Mingi grinned.

“Ever.” I hissed and Mingi licked his lips before biting his bottom lip, his heart thumping just a little bit faster as I could feel his giddiness radiate off of him.

“Do you know you drank my blood when we slept together—”

“What?!” I snapped mortified, almost jumping out of his arms, “I did not!”

“Uh, yes, you did.” Mingi chuckled, wriggling his head at me funnily, “I found two little punctures at the base of my neck.”

I felt mortified hearing that, face turning completely red and muscles tensing. It wasn’t forbidden to feed off of other night creatures, it’s just that it was a very intimate action, usually only practiced between vampire lovers.

“You know, it’s funny,” Mingi’s eyes were glinting as he looked down at me, “It’s where my scent gland is, the spot where werewolves mark each other when mating—”

“Mingi, please, stop.” I pressed a hand against his mouth, completely and utterly embarrassed. But he licked my palm, making me yelp as I ripped my hand away from his mouth.

“I think you triggered my imprinting, isn’t that the funniest thing ever?”

“Oh, my fucking God,” I wailed, squeezing my eyes shut in mortification, “Kill me right now, Mingi.”

“Can’t do that, doll, not when you’re the love of my life.” Mingi chuckled, nearing the edge of the forest finally.

“Stop spewing non-sense,” Yet I felt my heart beat just a little faster, cheeks heating up hearing his words, “I thought we agreed to talk about this whole thing tomorrow.”

“True,” Mingi hummed, smiling contently, “So, how’s your memory?”

“Why?” I raised an eyebrow in suspicion as Mingi smirked, looking ahead.

“Mine’s a little foggy, that’s why.” He said nonchalantly, making me gulp as I had a hunch what he was talking about.

“Well, so is mine.” I said in a small voice, Mingi’s attractive face turned downwards as his sharp eyes bore into mine, plump lips pulled into the most attractive smirk I had ever seen.

“Good, I think it’s time we give it a refresh, then,” He whispered seductively, leaning just a little closer, “You know, make sure we don’t forget this time, not even the littlest details.”

My mouth went dry and I felt my stomach coil at his suggestion, and all I could do was nod at him speechless, licking my lips as a warm feeling washed over me, going straight to my core. Mingi’s eyes were glinting and he chuckled, kicking the shed’s door open as he walked us inside.

I don’t think there was a single thing I would’ve been able to forget about Song Mingi, even after having lived for an eternity.

≡ Masterlist ≡

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