#should the mortal he's in love with be human or a werewolf?

[edmunderson]

got jumpscared by the new CAS poses i swapped in. enjoy the fae king's ass

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Blood Moon (M)

★ PAIRING: Werewolf!Haechan x Vampire!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 16K

★ GENRE(S): Smut, Angst, Forbidden Love, Dark Fantasy, Mortal enemies, Slightly melodramatic lol, Haechan is a real yearner in this.

☆ SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is in an accident that leaves him in critical condition. You wanted to be the one to save him, to turn him, but his best friend beats you to it. How will your relationship change now that you’ve become immortal enemies? ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Minor character death, mentions of grieving and loss, blood, mentions of torture, reader has a messed up backstory,dry humping, rough supernatural sex hehe, rimjob, cunnilingus, knotting, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, drug use in the form of pixie dust, Its freaky asl idk, mature, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: Might have got carried away on this one whoops. I love fantasy so excuse the lore but enjoy this porn with plot!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your heart was in the pit of your stomach. You'd always known this day would come eventually, but you'd been foolish to think you would ever be ready. The call from the hospital had come 10 minutes ago, and traffic crawled by like a sluggish beast. You wondered why you'd gotten behind the wheel, when you knew you were faster on foot.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the busy streets. Your veins thrummed with a restless energy as you tried to sit still. You would make it. You had to.

Your heels clicked against the tile of the hospital floor as you darted down the corridor, your head whipping in every direction for the room the receptionist had told you was Donghyuck’s. The scent of disinfectant and sterile air filled your lungs, but beneath it, you caught a whiff of something else – a faint hint of his presence.

Finally, your eyes found the room number, and as you approached the door, your gaze fixed on the whiteboard attached to it:

 Patient: Lee Donghyuck

As you entered the room, you didn't notice the strain in your shoulders or the way your breath caught in your throat until you almost yanked the door off its hinges. The bed was empty and cold, but his scent lingered. It hadn't been long since they'd moved him.

Your mind reeled with worst-case scenarios. You patted your pocket for your phone, but it wasn't there – you must have left it in the car in your panic.

You hear footsteps approaching, and they come to a stop outside the door. When you turn around, you see a nurse wiping the whiteboard clean.

“Where is he?” The harshness in your voice surprises you.

“If you’re asking about the patient who was in here, you just missed him. He was checked out a little while ago,” she replies, not looking up from her task.

You finally exhale, your legs growing weak beneath you as relief floods through you. He was okay. But then a flicker of confusion crosses your face, causing your slight smile to falter.

“Is something wrong?” the nurse asks, finally looking at you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just... his condition. I was told it was critical.”

The nurse nods, concern creasing her brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d pull through. He was hit by a drunk driver. He broke several bones, and we thought there was internal bleeding. There should have been, at least.” She pauses, her expression turning puzzled the more she thinks about Donghyuck’s case.

“Where is he now? How could he just get up and leave after all that?” Panic begins to rise within you. He was human; you were certain of that. Humans don’t just bounce back like that, do they? Questions and doubts swirl in your mind.

“A few friends visited him about thirty minutes before you got here. One of them came to find me and said he needed to be checked out. I was just as shocked as you when I walked in and found him standing there, all his vitals normal. The doctor wanted to keep him for more tests, but the guys insisted on taking him home. Honestly, there wasn’t much we could do since he appeared fine.” The nurse shrugs, her confusion mirroring yours.

Just then, her pager buzzes, breaking the tension. “I’ve got to run. Sorry!” She glances at the notification before hurriedly excusing herself.

You start piecing things together, and the outcome doesn't sit well with you. You walk back into the room and focus. Your senses aren’t as sharp as usual, you’re due for another recharge soon. You sift through the scents in the hospital: sterile, metallic, but then you catch a whiff of something you missed earlier. It confirmed the nurse's story. They had been here.

Irritation bubbles up as you stride out of the hospital. You could leave a trail of fire in your wake with the heat radiating off you in fury. They had reached him first. They had taken him. You grind your heels into the pavement as you run. You’d worry about your car later; moving on foot is your best bet now. Better they didn’t see you coming.

The cold night air bites at your skin as you fly through the darkness, few cars passing you on the back roads. At this speed, they wouldn’t even catch a glimpse of you. The trees blur into shadows as you sprint toward your destination, buried deep in the forest. You split from the main highway to a side road, blocked by rusting barriers, stretching out for miles. its cracked and overgrown pavement leading to a half-built freeway that drops off into thickets of bushes and trees. No one comes this way; not many even know it exists. The only souls who dare venture down this path are high schoolers or college kids looking for thrills at night, chasing highs.

As you round a bend, your destination comes into view: a rundown motel, overtaken by moss and vines. It stands as the sole remnant for miles, until you reach the unfinished freeway. There's nothing else out here but forest. 

You slow your pace, taking in the scene; it feels like stepping back in time. The once flickering neon sign, long burned out, hung tilted above the entrance, and the peeling paint on the walls had seen better days. The only thing guiding you through the darkness is the moonlight and your own keen night vision. Without them, it would be pitch black—no lights for miles. 

Even before you see them, the smell hits you first: a wet, dog-like odor that makes your nose scrunch up in distaste. The moment you step onto the property, yellow eyes appear in the dark, and low snarls echo through the night. You’re in werewolf territory, and they’re just seconds away from ripping you apart. In an instant, you’re surrounded, their numbers closing in like a tightening net. Your own eyes flash red as you bare your fangs in warning, a growl rumbling in your throat. Teeth clash around you, spit flying as they display their own teeth.

“Where is he? I know you took him!” you shout, your voice carrying through the crowd. “I’m just looking for my boyfriend! I’m not here to fight!”

You took a gamble coming here unprepared. In the wild, they predominantly favored their wolf forms. The hairs along their necks and backs bristle, ears perk up, and they crouch low, ready to pounce. In this state, instinct reigns supreme; reason and negotiation was unlikely.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, preparing to unleash your own claws when a voice suddenly cuts through the chaos.

“Stand down,” an older voice commands as two familiar figures emerge from the pack.

One of the pack members howls, calling the others to attention. The wolf shakes violently, as if shrugging off water, before morphing into a human—a few others follow suit. The rest bound off into the dense forest.

“You shouldn’t be here. This is our territory,” the first transformed wolf says, a warning etched across his features. He stands before you, his human form unapologetically naked.

“Jeno, enough!” the old man insists, his presence commanding.

“She’s a vampire! She’s breaking treaty by being here without permission!” Jeno, points accusingly at you.

“He’s here, isn’t he? There’s no way you haven’t heard about the accident. He wasn’t at the hospital.” Your frustration boils over, almost uncontrollable. “You turned him into one of you, didn’t you? Answer me Jeno!”

He meets your gaze with a snarl at the mention of his name.

“I said enough! We don’t need to escalate this,” the old man interjects firmly.

“Dad!” Jeno says in disbelief.

“Follow me,” Jeno’s father commands, brushing aside his son’s fury with practiced ease.

You glower at Jeno as you follow his father deeper into the property. Your scowl is met with silent glares from the others, who stand in their human forms, their eyes watching intently. The chief has spoken. it’s clear—no one is to touch you.

You recognized Ten, Johnny, Kun, Xiaojun, Yangyang, and a few other familiar faces among the pack. Your boyfriend, Donghyuck, had grown up with them. His dad was friends with Jeno’s, so he and Jeno had played  together since diapers. They were the ones who had given him the nickname Haechan. You always hated how close he was to the pack. He always carried a trace of their scent and there was a time you were fully convinced he might be one of them.

Donghyuck had been blissfully unaware of the supernatural world around him. When he introduced you to a few of his friends one day, you had to fight the instinct to bare your fangs. That night had been tense and awkward. You had learned to play nice while Haechan was around, but the moment he left the room, you were at each other's throats. 

They guide you into one of the rooms. Despite the rundown exterior of the motel, the inside was meticulously restored, almost like an oasis in this forgotten wilderness. As soon as you step inside, your breath catches in your throat. The sight of Haechan makes your heart swell and break all at once. 

At first glance, he seems fine—lying on a bed in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling gently. Sweat beads at his temples, and his brows are furrowed in a way that sends a rush of alarm through you. A slight grimace crosses his lips, hinting at discomfort or pain making your heart sink.

"What’s wrong with him?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, fear creeping in.

“It’s part of the process,” Jeno says from near the door. “He’s adjusting. It’s a lot for him to handle.”

“Why would you allow this?” you target the chief. Jeno pulls you back by the arm before you can get to him, his claws digging into your skin. 

“He didn’t know! I did this,” Jeno interjects.

Your anger shifts to Jeno, a growl escaping your lips. “You,” you spit, eyes glowing red again. “You know the risk of turning him, and yet you still did it!”

“He’s my best friend! I wasn’t going to let him just die!” Jeno’s voice rises with frustration and pain. “What were you planning to do when you got there? Watch him die?” He laughs cruelly, which only fuels your fury. “You’re just mad I beat you to it.”

The air is thick with tension, and you prepare to lunge at him when growls break the silence from behind you. Turning around, you see some of the pack entering the room. You lock eyes with Ten, Johnny, and Jaehyun, their expressions unreadable but serious. You sense their protectiveness over Jeno and reluctantly ease your stance, frustration boiling over in a huff of air. “Ughh!” You clench your fists, willing yourself to calm down as your chest rises and falls harshly.

“What’s going to happen to him?” you ask, looking towards the chief.

“He’s going to change,” he replies, his gaze steady. “He’s taking the bite well. There shouldn’t be any complications, but he needs rest. He’s been through a lot today.”

“How long will it take?” You say. You move carefully to sit at Haechan’s side and brush the hair from his forehead.

“It varies from person to person,” He says, pulling your attention away from haechan. “It can be a few hours to a couple of days. But he’s resilient, and he’s strong.” 

You turn back to Haechan, your heart aching as you scan his form. The covers are thrown aside, exposing his chest, bare except for the sweat glistening on his skin. He looks different—his shoulders broader, muscles more defined, and his face sharper than before. He was still your Haechan, but you realize with dread that there’s one detail you’ll have to adjust to.

That smell. The unmistakable scent of a werewolf—stronger and more pungent than the subtle hint he carried before. He reeked of mutt.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Past

You hadn’t told Haechan you were a vampire. It was safer that way or perhaps you were deluding yourself, too afraid to face the truth. As a vampire, dating humans was frowned upon. Humans were considered nothing more than food, meant to be consumed or else they’d spoil. Vampires, on the other hand, were the undead, nightwalkers who defied mortality and the passage of time. You didn't age, and You didn't die. Vampires were superior to humans in every way. It was common manners not to play with your food but eat it. You had sworn you would never date a human. Loving a human was dangerous but despite everything you couldn’t stop yourself from loving Haechan.

There was an abandoned cemetery just outside the city where you lived. Cliché as it might be, you loved the cemetery; it was one of the few places you felt truly at peace. You often found yourself wandering there, even outside of your biweekly recharging rituals. 

Living amongst humans was difficult for most vampires, but those who tried had to make accommodations. Unlike some legends you could bask in the sunlight without fear of turning to ash under the sun or sparkling like diamonds. But there was a trade-off—when exposed to the sun, you were stripped of your immortality. You were the most vulnerable during the day. You’d still retain your speed, hearing, and agility, but you felt as fragile as a human. Many were terrified of this weakness, so they hid away until nightfall when they were the most powerful. 

At night you were untouchable. Not even a stake through the heart, garlic, or silver bullets could kill you. Still, prolonged exposure to the sun would gradually drain your energy, weakening you until you were left with nothing if you didn’t recharge. Bathing in moonlight was one solution, but the quickest way to recuperate your strength was resting in a specially inscribed coffin. That kind of sleep rejuvenated you, allowing you to regain your vitality and power.

You had stumbled upon an unburied coffin in that cemetery long ago and inscribed it with runes of protection and rejuvenation. It became your perfect charging station. Tucked away from the bustling city, it was very rare that someone came here due to the cemetery's extremely run down appearance.

You thought it was perfect. The quiet stillness allowed you to gaze at the stars, and it was beneath that vast, twinkling sky that you first met Haechan.

You had spent an entire day in your coffin, allowing the darkness to wrap around you like a comforting blanket. As you pushed against the stone lid, it slid aside with ease, and you sat up, yawning and stretching your limbs. Blinking a few times, you find the moonlight spilling into the  space and filling you with its magic. You bask in it as it dances against your skin. After resting you always got the zoomies, a few laps around the forest would do just fine before heading home.

Sliding out of the grave, you dusted off the dirt and debris from your clothes. Just as you began to shake off the remnants of your rest, a shuffle caught your attention a few yards away. Instinct kicked in, and your senses sharpened. The sweet, tempting scent of human filled your nose, and a smile crept across your face. You were starving and could go for a little snack, especially if some careless drunk college kid had stumbled their way here. You’d never understood why freshmen chose this spot to get wasted, but at that moment, you silently thanked whichever god had sent them your way. You were tired of dealing with the trash and beer bottles they left behind anyway.

You're naturally light footed so you don't have to sneak up on the hunched figure in front of you. Just as you were about to attack, a small sniffle stopped you in your tracks. You took a moment to observe the young man kneeling in front of a grave, fresh pink camellias in his hand. He was crying, and his tears sparkled in the moonlight as they fell, unknowingly watering the flowers. There was something ethereal about him, reminiscent of a fairy. For a moment, you could have sworn the flowers bloomed brighter with each teardrop, but perhaps that was just your imagination running wild. Taking a deep breath to better understand this mysterious figure. His scent confirmed he was undeniably human, tinged with a hint of canine—perhaps he was a dog owner.

You may be a creature of the night, but you weren't heartless. 

As you gazed at the young man, you couldn't bring yourself to disturb him while he was grieving. Your voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He jumped, startled, and clutched his chest with his free hand. "You scared me," a nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to calm his racing heart. "I didn’t think anyone else was here" he said, wiping his tears and clearing his throat. He gently set the flowers down beside him.

You offered him a soft, gentle smile and settled in beside him, your eyes drifting to the tombstone. "Who was she to you?" You asked, nodding toward the name etched into the stone. Your gaze flickered to his.

The young man stared at you, his mouth agape, his eyes wide with wonder. You couldn't help but giggle at his adorable expression – he reminded you of a baby bear, innocent and endearing. It's like he finally remembers you asked him a question and his mouth snapped shut, and he cleared his throat. His eyes refocusing on the grave and a fond smile spread across his face, and you could almost see the memories dancing across his features.

"She was my grandma," he said, his voice cracking slightly. You hummed softly, indicating you were listening, and he continued.

"She took care of me when my dad would leave on business trips when I was a kid. She got sick after I'd left the city, and I couldn't find the time to come see her... and now it's too late." Tears began to well up in his eyes. “She wanted to be buried by her mother but…” He trailed off. His eyes flit around the abandoned graveyard and its crumbling tombstones, their inscriptions faded and obscured by moss and creeping ivy. The path leading through the graveyard was overgrown with wild grasses hinting at years of neglect. 

You smiled, understanding where he was coming from. This wasn't the most ideal place to lay a loved one to rest anymore. 

"It's not your fault, you know. I'm sure you wanted to be there for her, and I'm sure she knew that too."

His eyes remained fixed on the grave as he traced the name engraved in stone with his fingers, a faint smile breaking through his sorrow. "Thank you," he replied, but you sensed it would take time for him to truly believe your words.

Suddenly, he turned to you with a new intensity. "I'm sorry I've been rambling about myself. Did you lose someone, too?"

His question caught you off guard. You had nearly forgotten that people came here to grieve, as you had your own reasons. You paused for a moment, scrambling to conjure a lie. But after the heartfelt story he had shared, you didn't feel that it was right to lie about visiting a loved one.

"I just come out here sometimes because it's quiet," you admitted, which wasn’t entirely untrue; sometimes the chaos of the city was overwhelming, and you needed a break from the noise.

Haechan looked at you as if you were crazy. "You're crazy."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. "I guess I am. But look," you said, pointing toward the stars. "They look so pretty out here."

His gaze flickered upward, captivated by the night sky. 

"That one's Ursa Major," you said with a smile. "It's my favorite." You reached out, taking his hand to trace the constellation. "Do you see it?"

"What's it supposed to look like?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"It's a bear! You see the Big Dipper? That's part of the constellation, and all together it’s supposed to resemble a bear." You released his hand and used your own to outline the Big Dipper in the sky.

His eyes lit up as he stared at the stars, and you found yourself captivated by him. The way the starlight shimmered in his gaze was enchanting.

"I see it!" he exclaimed happily, turning to share the joy with you, but when he looked back, you had vanished.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your skin was cold to the touch and you were gone so suddenly he had almost written you off as a ghost that night. He had nearly forgotten about that night until you appeared before him again. A month later, he saw you in the library, and he was certain you were real. 

After his grandmother's passing, Haechan had moved back home. He was entrusted with managing a significant part of her affairs, leading to weeks of sleepless nights spent sorting through her accounts and handling paperwork. Juggling family responsibilities and his classes at the nearby community college had left him utterly exhausted.

When he first saw you he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly but there you remained.  You were just down the aisle, and he hurriedly packed his things, eager to follow you. When he turned the corner just a few seconds later, you had vanished again. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I’ve gotta get some sleep,” he murmured, shaking his head as he pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulders, preparing to leave.

“You probably should,” you said with a smile, making him jump back in fright, letting out a startled yell.

A few patrons shush the two of you. “I’m sorry. I should really stop sneaking up on you,” you said, a playful grin on your face.

“You think?” he whispered back, but a smile finally broke through his fatigue. “So you really are real,” he mused more to himself than anyone else.

Your smile widened at his revelation, and you nodded.

“What's your name?” 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Present day

A week had passed since you'd last seen Haechan. You hadn’t gone back to see him and honestly you weren’t sure if you ever would. Dating a werewolf? It seemed even more complicated than a relationship with a human. Your mind was reeling, and you were still struggling to wrap your head around the reality of it all.

You sat on your balcony that overlooked the forest behind your apartment. Sipping hot chocolate and watching the full moon, you couldn't help but think of him. You wondered how he was coping with his first full moon. Having his first full moon so close to his initial change must be tough. With a sigh, you tried to shake off the thoughts. It would be safer for both of you if you stayed away from each other.

You moved back inside. You were walking into the kitchen to wash your cup when you felt a sudden draft as the wind blew in through the double doors leading to your balcony. You must have forgotten to close it all the way. You walked back over to close them, ensuring they were locked before returning to the kitchen. 

You freeze when you spot the ash-grey wolf standing on your kitchen island. You couldn’t suppress the scream that escaped your lips. How the hell had it gotten in here without you noticing? Your senses were dulled, and you knew you were due for a much-needed recharge.

You cursed under your breath, taking in the beast before you. Its yellow eyes glowed, and saliva dripped onto your kitchen island, making you recoil in disgust. This wolf was not acting normal. Its shoulder heaved as it took ragged breaths, almost rabid in appearance. You instinctively put your guard up, creating distance between the two of you. You couldn’t fight it—not in your current state.

As you slowly began to back away, there was something in the wolf's eyes that halted you in your tracks. It couldn't be him.

“H-Haechan?” you called out, bending your knees to appear smaller so as not to frighten him. You wondered how he had ended up here. He looked scared.

“It's me, Haechan,” you said softly, hands extended in a non-threatening manner. You understood he was running purely on instinct. Perhaps he had sought out a place where he felt safe.

Now you stood just in front of him causing him to growl and bare his teeth. His body was rigid, and his ears were flattened against his head. Every sign warned you to stay back, yet you ignored them all as you reached out to touch him.

In an instant, it happened. One moment you were standing, and the next, he had pinned you to the floor, his powerful paws digging into your shoulders. He snarled, but you remained calm. He couldn’t kill you but healing would take days in this state if he did enough damage.

You looked into his eyes and took a deep breath. “Haechan, you need to calm down. It’s me. If you don’t find control, you’ll do something you’ll regret.”

He growls in response.

“Donghyuck!” you yelled sternly. “Snap out of it!” You scolded him as his claws dug deeper into your shoulders.

He flinched and whined, stepping off you reluctantly. His head hung low, and his tail tucked between his legs as he made a small circle before plopping down a few feet in front of you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you realized he had regained some sense of awareness. Keeping your voice steady, you knelt beside him and tentatively reached out. When he allowed you to get close, you gently patted him. “You need to change back, baby. I know you're scared, but you have to. You can do this. You're stronger than this,” you whispered reassuringly.

He stood up, and you did too, backing away to give him space. He stretched into a downward dog and shook himself off, and to your amazement, his body morphed before your eyes. Finally, the Haechan you knew and loved stood naked before you, looking horrified as he took in the damage done.

“I’m sorry.” 

Following his gaze to your shoulders, you smiled. “This is nothing; don’t worry about it,” you said, trying to comfort him.

He backed away slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t come near me!” he yelled, and you flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he added, his voice softer this time.

Ignoring his plea, you walked toward him anyway. “You could never hurt me, love,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he sank to his knees. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t remember anything. Jeno and the others came for me and then turned me into… this.” He gestured to his hands, which hadn't fully reverted, his claws still bared.

Kneeling in front of him, you took his hands in yours. He tried to pull away, but your grip was firm enough to keep him in place. He looked at you in shock but before he could question your strength you spoke.

“Is that why you ran?” you asked gently.

“They turned me into a monster. How can I live like this?” His eyes searched your face for answers. Your heart ached at the fear reflected in his gaze. You felt a wave of shame wash over you; Jeno was right. If you’d gotten to him first, you would have changed him but that wasn’t what Haechan wanted. Jeno had acted selfishly, and so had you for even contemplating it.

“He was just trying to help,” you found yourself defending Jeno unexpectedly. Maybe you were subconsciously defending yourself. “You have to go back to them, Haechan. They’re the only ones who can teach you how to control yourself.”

“So I don’t hurt more people,” he scoffed, humorlessly. “How can you even look at me right now?”

“You’re not a monster, do you hear me?” you replied sternly.

“I AM! LOOK AT ME!” he yelled, his eyes glinting yellow as he finally found the strength to yank his hands away from yours. He stood and walked toward your room, rummaging through your drawer until he found a pair of pants he’d left behind. You stand in the doorway, watching him dress with your arms crossed.

“Haechan I'm fine,” you called out.

“Don’t lie to make me feel better!” he shouted back.

Frustration surged within you as you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your already healed skin. “LOOK!” you yelled.

He halted, his eyes widening as he examined you. Your skin was unmarred, untouched by his claws. He dashed toward you, grabbing your shoulders and twisting you this way and that, searching for any signs of injury. “Wha—” he stuttered. “How did you do that?”

Closing your eyes, you remembered your true self. When you opened them, they glowed crimson. “You’re not a monster, Haechan. Unless you consider me one too,” you told him.

His eyes widened in astonishment, but he stood rooted in place, shock holding him there. “What are you?”

You hissed softly, revealing your fangs. "I'm a vampire," you stated simply.

You could see the gears turning in his head as he connected the dots: why you were always so cold to the touch, how you could sneak up on him silently, how you exhibited unnatural strength just moments ago.

Finally, his body relaxed, and he sank onto your bed, looking lightheaded. “So you’re a vampire,” he repeated, almost incredulously, as if trying to grasp everything that had just unfolded.

“Yes,” you said, sitting next to him.

“And I’m a werewolf.”

“Correct again,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

“How old are you?” he asked next, genuinely curious.

You fought back a smile. “How rude!” you joked, shoving him lightly.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” he replied apologetically, running a hand down his face in embarrassment. “I mean, when did you become a vampire? Has it been a long time? Your family…” He trailed off, the gravity of the conversation settling in the atmosphere.

“They’re probably dead by now,” you replied, your voice softening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the sincerity in his tone.

“It’s okay. I don’t remember my human years; most vampires don’t,” you explained. “I was 24 when I turned. The one who turned me was the closest thing to a father I had, and he was cruel.” You bristled at the memories of your past.

Haechan stayed quiet, allowing you to open up if you wanted. You took a deep breath before continuing, "He kept me locked away and taught me how to survive, but the punishments were brutal. I knew I had to get away from him eventually."

You told Haechan everything…

You don’t remember how you ended up there, but when you awoke that night, a man in his late forties stood before you. He had dark hair and striking blue eyes. Now that you’re older, you realize blue eyes belong to ancient vampires, beings that had survived since the dark ages. With a voice like dark velvet, he taught you how to harness your powers and you learned the art of inscribing. His teachings also instilled in you a deep-seated fear of the sun. He spun tales of scorched skin and searing pain, convincing you that to step into its light would mean certain death.  He taught you other things too, like to despise humans. He taught you humans were to never be trusted and that one day they would betray you.

He kept you locked away underground in an old tower, isolated from the world above. The room where you stayed contained only a coffin. You were tasked with maintaining the underground floors, ensuring they remained orderly. You weren’t allowed to venture beyond the floors beneath ground level. He treated you like a slave, proclaiming that you belonged to him in exchange for granting you eternal life. It was a twisted bargain that felt more like a curse. 

You had been above ground only once, it was a rare and seemingly indulgent gift from your master. He would normally bring you his kills to feed on but that night he had taken you out into the world, to teach you to hunt. It was exhilarating to experience the raw, primal instincts that surged within you. You hunted until dawn, the sun creeping up threateningly beyond the horizon.

The night had ended all too soon and you headed back home. You made it to the front of the tower, and just seconds before you were ushered inside, the sun rose, spilling soft gold and pink across the sky. You had caught your first glimpse of its light, radiant and breathtaking. It painted the world warm hues, something you had never seen in the cold tower. 

Your master’s hand gripped your shoulder. “We must return,” he said, his voice laced with authority as he ushered you back into the shadows. Since that one fateful night, you have never been allowed to see the surface again.

One night, curiosity got the better of you, and while your master was absent, you explored the tower. You snuck into the library and read until dawn. When the sun rose, you raced to the top floor and gazed out at the sunrise. You longed to bathe in its light, fully aware that it would be fatal. Your master had warned you that direct sunlight could kill you, only safe within the tower's shadows.

Everything changed one fateful night. You had taken a book from the library but your master returned sooner than you had expected. Despite the risks, you knew you had to return the book before he noticed. 

It was through the pages of his books that you discovered the truth. You were taught many things, but after reading his books how many of them had been true? The books told you stories about humans, the outside world, and important history. It revealed that while the sun wouldn’t kill you, it could weaken you, and that to regain any lost power, you must sleep. He had kept secrets from you, you couldn’t trust him. Maybe if you could escape, you could live among humans without fear? You’d never find out unless you returned the book. If your master discovered you had sneaked upstairs, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

The halls were quiet, and slipping the book back into place was easy. You were making your way back, using an old passageway you had stumbled across, when a flickering light caught your eye. The corridor was lined with doors, each one leading to a different part of the tower. Peeking through a crack in one door, you saw something chilling.

Your master stood in the center of a gathering room, surrounded by chained and shackled humans. An entire council of vampires filled the room, and the sight of the horrific treatment inflicted on the humans made you nauseous. They were beaten and tortured cruelly. Their screams echoed in your mind, and that night, you swore to escape. The humans you had read about had their faults but they did not deserve that. 

You thought you had everything figured out until three days later, when your master visited with a human man around your age. He offered no explanation, only instructing you to take care of him. You soon grew close to the human, who introduced himself as Kun. He quickly became your only friend, sharing stories about the outside world and his family. For two years, he stayed with you, working alongside you as a fellow slave. At first, you worried that your master would eat him, as it wasn’t like him to let food spoil. Eventually you stopped worrying about it and just learned to enjoy Kun’s company.

You showed Kun everything: the hidden passageways, the library, and the sunset whenever your master was away. You promised each other that when the time was right, you would escape together.

Then one night, your master woke you from a rare period of recharging. He had previously insisted you slept. You found it strange but you hadn’t argued. There was no reason for you to recharge, you spent most nights watching Kun sleep.

You instinctively turned towards his cot but it was empty. Before you could voice your concern, your master ushered you out of your room and upstairs to the gathering room you had once watched from the shadows. Ancient vampires surrounded the area, their underlings present as well.

In the middle of the room was Kun. He was stripped bare, bruises, scars and welts were painted across his once beautiful skin.  

“KUN!” you shouted, trying to rush to him, but your master’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He had the ability to compel, a power only ancient vampires possessed. You had read that the only way to break it was to call him by his true name, a name you didn’t know since you had only ever addressed him as “Master.” 

“MASTER!” you screamed, desperation rising in your voice. “PLEASE, STOP THIS!” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and you could feel yourself die. You knew you were already dead but this pain in your chest would have been fatal if you were moral.

“You brought this upon yourself, foolish girl,” he sneered. 

The other ancient vampires laughed at your distress, their underlings at their side, made to watch to teach them what would happen if they disobeyed their master.

“Make her suffer!”

“Look how she cares for that wretched human!” one of them jeered.

“Kill them both!” shouted another.

They hurled insults your way while you trembled under your master’s control.

“Did you think I was a fool? I knew what you were up to. I could smell you in the walls, you little rodent.”

“Please, Master, I’m sorry! Forgive me!” you begged.

“It’s not me you need to ask for forgiveness. It is him,” he said, gesturing a long finger at Kun. “Because of you, this is his fate.”

With an audience of ancient vampires, he turned to them proudly and declared, “Nothing but ruin can come from loving a human. Witness now the consequences of defying tradition. Drink from him!” he ordered.

Your body moved against your will. You fought against his compulsion with every ounce of strength, but each step felt heavier. Standing before Kun, you could see that he was barely breathing.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he managed to whisper. With the last of his strength, he smiled weakly. “Don’t let him break you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you bared your teeth and sank them into him. You could feel his life slipping away, and as you drank, your heart shattered in silence.

Later that night, you were thrown back into your room. You didn't move for months. Staring blankly at the wall, you cried until the hunger became overwhelming. Your master hadn’t brought you any food, likely leaving you there to die. You couldn’t let that happen; you had promised Kun. 

Eventually, you found a way out. You fled during daylight, running until you could run no more. You felt the grass beneath your toes and the sun on your face. You ran so hard you broke your ankle in the process but by nightfall, it had healed. You lived as a nomad for years until you rolled into the city you now call home. Adjusting to your new life was a challenge at first, but eventually, you met a city vampire who taught you how to navigate life among humans.

Haechan listened intently, not interrupting once.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this sooner; it was easier if you didn’t know,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry you had to carry all that alone," he replied gently. "I promise, you won’t have to go through that again. We’re stronger now.”

“That's it though,” you began, gathering your thoughts. “We’re not strong enough. You need to go back to your pack, Haechan. You can’t come back here. There are rules, and we have to uphold them.”

“I don’t see why we can’t see each other. I know you’re afraid, but you can’t just push me away.”

"You can’t just do whatever you want! This isn’t a game, and those rules are there for a reason—to keep people alive!" You didn’t want to sound harsh, but the history between wolves and vampires was too complicated to explain right now. “The others are probably already looking for you. I can’t have a fight breaking out if they catch you here.”

“So that’s it? I’m nothing to you now?” Haechan stood up, frustration etched across his face.

“That's not—” You take a deep breath. “I didn’t say that. It’s just… complicated.”

You heard a howl echo in the distance, and your heart sank. “We don’t have time to talk about this. You need to leave. Now!” You turned and headed toward your balcony; it was safer for him to leave the way he came. He wouldn’t run into anyone and he could head straight into the forest. You swung open the doors, only to be greeted by the last person you wanted to see.

“Where is he?” Jeno demanded.

You sighed, trying to keep your attitude in check. “He was scared.”

“I don’t know if you’ve understood this yet, but he’s one of us now. You need to stay away from him. I’m running out of warnings,” he snarled.

Haechan rounded the corner and met Jeno’s gaze. “Jeno, relax! You know her,” he said defensively.

Johnny chimed in, “you don’t understand, just stay out of this.”

Haechan stepped in front of you, shielding you. “Guys, seriously! We’ve hung out together plenty of times. Why is everyone suddenly so defensive?”

“I told you, Haechan, it’s different now. New rules apply because you’re different. You’re part of their pack, and I’m a vicious vampire,” you replied, your sarcasm biting.

“Sorry, dude, but that’s just the way things are,” Mark added.

“This is so stupid! I didn’t ask for this life, and now everyone’s trying to tell me what’s best for me!” Haechan yelled, frustration boiling over.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I know it’s unfair, love, but you have to go. I’ll see y—” You paused, stopping yourself from making any false promises. “Just… go with them, for me. Please?” You gave him your best pleading look, and slowly, he calmed down. Then he pulled you into a kiss. Neither of you wanted to pull away, but when he finally did, he turned away before you could see the tears threaten to fall. 

He walked toward Jeno and the others, but when Jeno reached out to put a comforting hand on Haechan's shoulder he shrugged it off with a low growl. They all jump from your balcony and when you look down below to where they land a pack of wolves stare back up at you before running off into the forest.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A year passed, and you hadn’t seen Haechan again. You were the one who had told him to stay away, but still, there were moments when you couldn't help but ask Mark about him. Mark was the most reasonable of their pack; you wouldn’t quite call him a friend, but you could manage more than a few words with him without the threat of a fight looming over you. The city was considered neutral territory, so running into a member of the pack while out and about was not uncommon.

“Mark told me Haechan is adjusting fine,” you shared with your friend Sooyoung as you leaned against your kitchen counter. “It took him a while, but he can control his powers now. Apparently, it took longer than usual because Haechan was still mad at them and refused to learn, but they’re on better terms now.”

“You’re living in a soap opera,” Sooyoung huffed, plopping down on one of your barstools, resting her head in her palm as she slouched over your countertop. “Are you really not going to see him?” she asked, lifting her head slightly.

“I can’t. I really can’t,” you stressed.

“Well then I’m tired of hearing about him,” she replied through a yawn. There were many myths about fairies, and one was that they couldn’t lie. While that wasn’t entirely true, they preferred not to, which made them incredibly blunt.

“Wow! What a great friend you are!” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.

Sooyoung straightened up a bit as you focused on making dinner for the two of you. “I’m sorry,” she whined, “it’s not that I don’t care; it’s just that you clearly still care about him. I can’t watch you torture yourself like this. As your friend, I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy!” you shot back defensively.

“Not if all you talk about is your stupid wolf-turned-ex-boyfriend that you miss!” she countered.

“I don’t miss him!” you insisted.

“Do you think about him?” she asked knowingly.

“I do,” you admitted.

“And I have to hear about it all the time, every day, every minute.” she pointed out.

“I'm sorry.” You cringed.

“Why don’t you just go see him? Just once, for closure,” she added, trying to be convincing.

“But what if he’s moved on?” The thought plagued you, an echo in your mind. “He hasn’t come to see me at all.”

“He has his reasons, just as you’ve had yours,” she reminded you. You considered this as you took the dinner off the stove and plated it.

“Let’s just eat,” you said, setting the conversation aside for now. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You could feel eyes on you from the moment you woke from your slumber. The scent was unmistakably his—Haechan. Rising from your grave, you sensed his presence pulling away, retreating into the nearby woods. You knew you should let him go, but you couldn’t. Sooyoung was right; maybe you needed closure.

You followed him. His figure dashed gracefully through the undergrowth, and moonlight danced off his ash-grey fur, illuminating the way. He eventually led you into a clearing, where the moon cast a spotlight on him before he turned to face you. With a shake of his fur, he began the transformation you had seen so many times before. It unsettled you how his bones shifted and reshaped, until he stood before you—bare and vulnerable, yet undeniably Haechan.

“Why are you here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I missed you,” he replied, his eyes earnest.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed to see you,” he said, dismissing your warning. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“That's enough!” you yelled, emotions welling up inside you.

“I know you’ve been asking Mark about me. I know you still love me,” he said, stepping closer.

“Stay away from me!” you shouted. If he came any closer…

“That’s why you followed me here. Admit it,” he pushed, standing a breath away. He searched your eyes, as if looking for the truth that lay hidden in your heart. “Admit it.”  He says almost like he's trying to convince himself as well.

You didn’t stop him when his lips met yours. It was a desperate kiss, and you found yourself kissing him back instinctively. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest, as if he feared you would slip away again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him just as tightly. But before he could deepen the kiss, you pulled away suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowed as he reached out to pull you back into his embrace.

“You know what's wrong.” you managed to say, your mind racing. “We can’t.”

Haechan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “What’s your issue?! I can see it all over your face. You still love me; why are you fighting it? What are you so afraid of?”

“Losing you!” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks as you finally let the walls come crashing down. “You’re so damn stupid!” You closed the distance once more, pounding your fists against his chest. “Why couldn’t you just stay away?” 

He let you unleash your anger, waiting patiently until you had calmed down. Then, he wrapped you in his arms again, grounding you as your knees wobbled. You buried your face in his chest with a sob.

Haechan wasn't as ignorant as he was in the past. He knew the history between werewolves and vampires but eons of bad blood wasn't enough to keep him from you. He was fully aware of the dangers that came with being with you but he would rather die fighting for you than to do nothing at all. 

Vampires had a long history of hunting werewolves. They were the only creature that could rival their speed and strength. It was a sport, a display of dominance, to show that they were the apex predator. Treaties were signed but broken, territories marked, and warnings sent. Vampires and werewolves had learned that the best way to keep the peace was to stay far apart from one another. Most city vampires were progressive, they partied with elves, drank with werewolves, and got high off pixie dust. They mingled across species, but such alliances were frowned upon by the more traditional clans. Any love across species was seen as a betrayal, deserving of the fiercest punishment—blood spilled in the name of ancient grudges. You could be branded a traitor just for showing kindness to a werewolf.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, and you won’t let anything happen to me. We were together when I was human, and that was probably more dangerous,” he pointed out.

“I know, and I was selfish,” you admitted.

“Well, now it’s my turn to be selfish. Just let me see you,” he said earnestly.

“This is not a good idea,” you warned, but his pleading gaze softened your resolve.

He must have sensed your wavering will, as he pulled out the puppy-dog eyes. “Please,” he begged.

“Fine,” you said with an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Just as he was about to celebrate and pull you into another kiss, you raised a finger to his lips. “But that doesn’t mean we’re dating! And the moment your pack finds out about this…” You gestured between the two of you with your free hand, “whatever this is, it’s done.”

“Deal,” he mumbled against your finger before you pulled it away.

You turned to walk away, glancing back over your shoulder before disappearing behind the trees. Haechan stood there, wearing the dopiest smile you had ever seen. “Stop looking at my ass, Haechan. Go home!” you shouted.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You and Haechan had been stealing moments together ever since that night. You found eachother in the dark corners of clubs, had picnics on abandoned rooftops under the moon, and shared intimate conversations beneath the ancient canopy of trees in the depths of the forest

Tonight you texted Haechan to meet you at an abandoned amusement park in the next city over. It took a few hours to run there, but you loved the freedom of it—being stuck in a car always felt so suffocating.  When you arrived you settled into one of the old, rusted teacups.  You heard rustling from the trees behind you and Haechan emerged in his wolf form, a backpack clamped between his teeth. When he shifted back to his human form, you instinctively looked away. The brief glimpse of his bare skin sent your mind racing with thoughts that definitely crossed the line of friendship. You reminded yourself for the hundredth time that you were just friends and friends don’t think about their friends like that. The sound of him unzipping his backpack and rummaging through clothes broke your train of thought as he started getting dressed.

“You can turn around now, darling,” he said, his voice teasing.

You hopped out of the teacup and ran right into him, relief washing over you. You’d missed him so much, and honestly, you didn’t even care that he smelled like a puppy—you buried your face in his neck.

“Hey hey, watch those teeth,” he joked.

You pulled away and playfully shoved him. “Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How have you been?”

“Terrible. We took in a stray recently,” he replied, a hint of irritation in his voice. “His name’s Jisung. We found him while traveling. Total troublemaker, so they dumped him on me. Ugh, he’s been giving me a headache! I was lucky to sneak away tonight.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” you said, your voice playful as you both started to walk deeper into the amusement park. 

“No way! I was not like that! He’s just so moody sometimes, such a teenager,” Haechan replied, shaking his head.

“I forgot, you had a valid reason for being so angsty.”

“Yeah, she’s standing right in front of me,” he said, then playfully tickled your sides, making you giggle.

You and Haechan were in a good place now, able to joke about the past without any hard feelings. You cherished these moments together and loved being with him.

“How did you find this place anyway?” he asked as you passed a distorted funhouse, a shiver running down his spine. “It’s creepy.”

“Is my puppy scared?” you mocked.

“I’m not scared!” he insisted with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You skipped a few steps ahead before turning around to face him. “Oh yeah? And what if I just left you right here?”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Very funny, but I’m faster than you now.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged.

“Yeah.” He says confidently. 

“Race you to the top of the Ferris wheel then!” you exclaimed and took off.

You sprinted toward the Ferris wheel on the other side of the park, Haechan hot on your heels. As you dashed past a few booths, you grabbed some old, soggy plushies and hurled them at him.

“That’s so gross!” he yelled, dodging them with ease.

Determined to leave him in the dust, you picked up speed. You leaped over old concession carts and swung through the spider ride, with its twisting central column and spinning arms. With a laugh, you propelled yourself off its arms, feeling the rush of adrenaline. Haechan dropped down onto the car behind you before launching himself off to chase you.

“Catch up, slowpoke!” you called, glancing back as the Ferris wheel loomed closer.

Tension built in your legs, and you sprang forward, grabbing one of the metal bars of the ride and climbing higher. It was massive, and when you looked down, you were surprised to see Haechan close behind, springing off each bar with the agility of a cat. You swung from bar to bar, pulling yourself up and up. There was a car waiting at the top, and that was your goal.

As you climbed, you glanced down to gauge how far Haechan was, but he was suddenly nowhere to be seen. You froze for a moment, scanning the ride. 

Your breath caught—though you didn't technically need to breathe, the habit was hard to shake. From this height, he could’ve easily fallen and gotten hurt. Werewolves were resilient, but they weren't immortal. They could almost live forever with how slowly they aged, as long as they weren’t mortally wounded. 

“HAECHAN!” you called out worriedly. “THIS ISN'T FUNNY! WHERE ARE YOU?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the night.

Just then, a laugh rang out. “Who’s scared now?” He called down to you from the passenger car at the very top.

A wave of relief washed over you. In no time, you reached the top and stood on the outerrail of the car while he lounged in the seat. The sides of the car weren't enclosed, allowing you to lean in and meet his gaze with a glare. “I thought you fell!” You grumbled.

“Sorry, babe. Couldn't let you win,” he said, patting the seat next to him. “Sit down.”

You ambled into the car and sat down across from him. “Don’t be mad,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come sit by me.”

You uncrossed your arms, giving up the act; it had been too long since you last saw him. You slid over, the seat snug but cozy enough for both of you. It was probably intended for moments like this—everyone knew that when you reached the top of the Ferris wheel you were supposed to kiss.

He nudged you playfully, and you met his gaze. “I was counting down the days until I saw you again,” he confessed softly.

You returned his smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “I missed you too.” He took your hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, his lips lingering longer than necessary before he pulled away.

He intertwined your fingers and looked up to the night sky. “You can see The Great Bear from here,” he remarked.

Following his gaze, you noted how Ursa Major shone brightly against the dark canvas of the sky. “Have I ever told you the story behind that constellation?” you asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he shook his head.

With a grin, you turned to him, relishing the moment. “In Greek mythology, Zeus once fell in love with a nymph named Callisto. When his wife Hera found out, she turned her into a bear.”

“Sounds like something you would do,” Haechan snickered.

“Except I would turn you into the bear,” you elbowed him playfully.

“Oww!” he laughed, rubbing his side dramatically.

A comfortable silence settled around you as you enjoyed each other’s company. Leaning against him, you closed your eyes, letting the peaceful moment wash over you.

“I love you,” he whispered, a soft vulnerability in his voice. Sitting up, you looked at him, his expression revealing that he was about to say something that he shouldn’t. You could see the longing in his eyes, how he yearned for you. He still wanted more.

Before he could voice his feelings, before he could reopen the wounds you both had worked so hard to heal, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was electric, you knew you couldn’t say it out loud so you put all your love and heartache into the kiss.

His hands held the sides of your face firmly, anchoring you in place as he refused to let you pull away. With a fervor you had almost forgotten, he deepened the kiss, a low moan escaping him as your tongues danced together. It was a sound so full of desire it sent heat pooling low in your belly. You couldn't help the slickness that dripped into your underwear.

You found yourself whining into his mouth, and the low growl that rumbled from his chest only encouraged you further. You fought to maintain control, willing your hands to stay in your lap. You knew the moment you touched him you wouldn’t let him go. 

His fingers found their way to your waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your hands scramble to grip onto the rail behind him. The car swayed wildly with the motion of your bodies. A part of you tried to speak, to remind him that this was dangerous but he only pulled you back into the searing kiss in response. You didn’t complain when he started grinding you down against him, you had forgotten how well you fit together. You could feel his hard length pressed against you, and the realization made your head swim. You hadn't been touched like this in what felt like an eternity, and the sensation was overwhelming.

His hands began to roam your body, mapping out every curve. When he cupped your breast, a soft moan escaped your lips making him shudder. The world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was the way his hands trailed down your waist, gripping your ass possessively. The way his hips began to thrust up in desperation had you seeing stars. He held you there, utterly lost in the way you felt pressed against him. You gripped the railing tighter, your fingers bending the metal beneath your grasp. You had to stay in control.

You managed to whisper a single word against his lips, "fuck." His hand had trailed under your shirt, sending shivers of delight down your spine. But as much as you wanted to continue, the way the passenger cart was creaking was starting to worry you. You pulled away, using your strength to push his chest. You had him pinned, his back against the seat. For a fleeting moment, his eyes flashed a deeper shade of red, a hint of a growl forming on his lips, raw desire evident in his gaze.

You stood your ground, a playful smirk on your face. "Down, boy," you said with a raised eyebrow.

"This thing is old, it's too dangerous to stay up here. Come on, we need to get down," you said firmly, the reality of the situation snapping him back to attention.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he replied, trying to mask his frustration with a hint of amusement. 

You sit still in haechans lap until the cart stops moving. When the cart slowly ceased its swaying you sighed in relief, grateful that the groaning of the rusted cart had silenced. However, just as you began to relax, a sudden crash startled you—the door fell off its hinges, clattering loudly as it hit everything in its path on its way down to the ground.

You jumped at the sound, heart racing, and exchanged a panicked look with Haechan. The spell of the previous excitement diminished, and you both burst into laughter.

“See what I mean?” he said. “This place is a death trap!”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of thrilling, don’t you think? A little dangerous excitement?” 

"You're crazy," he teased, helping you off his lap as you two made your way down.

“You loved every second of it.” 

You made it to the ground safely, and as you turned to Haechan, curiosity etched on your face, "Hey, have you presented yet?" you asked. As a golden-eyed wolf, Haechan held a neutral status, but it was possible for his eye color to shift to either red or blue once he presented - red for an alpha, blue for an omega.

He looked at you with a questioning expression, "No, why?" he asked.

You teased, "No reason, I just thought it would be cute if your eyes matched mine."

“Ah, like a couple's item,” he said, a grin breaking across his face.

“More like a friendship bracelet,” you corrected.

“Or like matching wedding rings,” he countered, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Like matching t-shirts,” you playfully curved him again.

His expression shifted slightly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “You want me to be your alpha, is that it? Want me to dominate you?” His words hung in the air, full of just the right amount of flirtation.

You knew he was joking, but the way he said it stirred something deep within you. 

Desperate to regain your composure, you shot him a playful glare, trying to mask your reaction. "Very funny, Haechan," you replied, rolling your eyes, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you. The tension between you was thick, a swirl of playful teasing and underlying desire, and you both seemed acutely aware of it.

“Just imagine it,” he continued, leaning closer with mock seriousness. “Matched for life. You, me, and our golden-eyed offspring.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Keep dreaming.” Even though you tried to shake off the feeling, you could sense your face getting hot. 

 Noticing your reaction, Haechan's eyes crinkled at the corners, and he looked at you with a pleased smile. “Oh? You like that idea, huh.” He teases.

You stalked off, leaving him to follow beside you with a knowing smirk. "Shut up or I will kill you," you threatened, trying to mask your emotions.

"That's against the rules, you know that, babe," he tuts.  "Besides, I'd like to see you try. You vampires aren't so scary, you know."

"Another challenge? You don't get sick of losing, do you?"

"I won the first one," he shot back, a flicker of pride in his voice.

"I let you win," you replied.

A fire ignited behind his eyes. "You did not let me win."

"If that's what helps you sleep at night," you teased, pushing all the right buttons to rile him up. He was super competitive so it was easy.

He leaned in closer, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. "Okay, fine, you wanna play like that? I got a game for you. We have a few more hours before sunrise. You down?" The devilish smile on his face was one you knew better than to trust.

"Depends on what it is," you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

"You think you’re faster and stronger than me, so let's put it to the test," he proposed, his grin broadening. "If I manage to rip your shirt off, I win. If you can evade me for a full hour, you win. Like that running man show we always watched." 

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. "What the hell? You just want to take my shirt off!" you argued.

"Then you better not let me catch you," he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the challenge that sparked within you. "Fine, it will be fun knocking you down a few pegs anyway." 

He gave you a minute head start, and without hesitation, you took off, the ground fading beneath your feet as you covered hundreds of yards in no time. The scent of pine and damp earth filled your senses, and with every stride, you pushed yourself to create as much distance as possible.

But even with your impressive speed, you knew you couldn’t hide your scent from him; the bloodhound instincts of a wolf would always lead him straight to you. You would have to rely on your speed if you wanted to win, there was no point in hiding. You listened intently to the sounds of the night, and soon enough, the heavy gait of Haechan, now in his wolf form, reached your ears. He was fast, closing the gap between you with each passing second. You continue running. You fly through the trees, running, jumping and swinging between the branches. You propelled yourself farther and farther, you had been running at full speed for 30 minutes just to keep him off your heels and it was starting to annoy you how easily he was able to keep up. You had 30 more minutes and you were sick of running. You had to outsmart him if you wanted to win.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you decided to lead him to the place where you knew you could gain the upper hand: the fun house. You had been there before, giggling and disoriented off pixie dust during a fairy rave.You got trapped in the funhouse for hours. 

You circled back, running until you were back at the amusement park. The giant tattered circus tent of the fun house comes into view and you look behind your shoulder to make sure Haechan was following. He was close, a few yards back. 

As you rounded the corner into the funhouse, you felt a surge of confidence. With your last burst of energy, you darted through the maze of mirrors, instinctively weaving and dodging obstacles while leaving your scent against every reflective surface. The idea was solid; if you covered the place with your scent, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint where you were. You hid at the end and waited.

A soft growl echoed through the maze, and the sound of Haechan's frustration made you suppress a giggle. When he entered the mirror maze, it was as if the walls began to close around him, reflecting his struggling figure infinitely. You could hear him bumping into the mirrored walls and howling in annoyance. He's about half way through when he gives up and decides he wants to go back before he realizes he can't. He's too deep inside now and he's stuck. 

“Stuck already, big bad wolf?” you thought, grinning to yourself.

He lets out a howl when he bumps into another mirror. You have to hold in your laughter. Time began to slip away, and after about twenty minutes of him navigating the maze, he finally broke through to the exit. 

When he finds you waiting at the exit he speeds towards you. You curse under your breath, you only had a few minutes left now but you couldn't outrun him. You're able to get back to the forest, hoping the natural obstacles of trees and bushes might buy you the time you need but it doesn't. 

He charged at you, and with a yelp, he tackled you to the ground. You laughed uncontrollably when he shifted back to human, completely naked and utterly unbothered by his state.

The forest floor was cool beneath your back, the damp moss pressing into your skin as you struggled against him. It was chaos, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter, one moment he was on top, and the next, you had somehow reversed your positions. The thrill of victory rushed through you as you caught his hands, using your strength to roll him onto his back while you straddle his waist.

A triumphant smile spread across your face as you taunted him, “Give it up. Only a minute left.”

His lips curled into a sly smirk, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “I’m letting you win,” he insisted, echoing your earlier words with a gleam of defiance in his eyes. 

You leaned down, your hair brushing against his cheeks as you whispered in his ear, “Oh, is that why you’re under me? What happened to dominating me?”

 His gaze flickered, a flash of something feral erupting within their depths. Before you could react, he was moving—too fast, too strong. In an instant, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. The other tore at your shirt, you gasped as he ripped your shirt from your body.

“Not so tough now are you?” he says, his smirk widening.  But there's a flicker of something else in his eyes as they roam down to your chest. “Looks like I win.” His voice drifts away, leaving a thick silence between you. 

You lie beneath him in the tatters of your shirt, your bra and a pair of low-rise skinny jeans. You can’t help but notice how hard he’s becoming against you. Your gaze trails over his exposed skin and lingering on the hard lines of his muscles until they reach his length. You bite your lip at how red the tip of his dick was. 

“I guess you did win,” you breathe out, your voice heavy with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the raw effort it takes for him to hold himself back. “But I think a victory like this deserves a prize.”

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and demanding, stealing the air from your lungs. You moaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body against yours. Twigs and leaves tangle in your hair but you didn’t care. You needed him—needed this—more than anything. He broke the kiss abruptly to undress you, his lips trailing down your neck, teeth grazing your collarbone before sinking in just enough to make you gasp. A shiver ran down your spine as his claws pricked at your skin, trailing down your side before retracting, leaving only the warmth of his palm groping your breast roughly.

“Haechan,” you whimpered, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

He breathed you in deeply. “I could smell you,” he murmured, his voice raspy. “The moment you saw me, I could smell how much you wanted me. But you always want to play the good girl, don’t you? The rule-follower.” His lips found your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe as he added, “Want to act like you don’t like me… but look at you now.”

You whined again, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth moved lower, kissing, licking, biting—claiming every inch of your body as his. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t want him to be. His tongue traced the curve of your breast, sucking and teasing until you were writhing beneath him, begging for more.

He trails his kisses down your body until his head is between your thighs. He lifts your legs over his shoulders and got comfortable. You see it for certain this time, his eyes glow crimson. His gaze stays locked on you the entire time as he works his tongue between your folds, collecting your slick and slurping noisily on your juices. He sucks ruthlessly at your clit and you're no match for his strength when you try to close your legs around his head. His claws dig into the skin of your thighs as he holds you open. His tongue is so slick and he's basically drooling as he devours you. The entire lower half of his face is soaked. You throw your head back in pleasure and claw at the ground beside you. 

“Yes Haechan!” You moaned as your hips kicked up and grind against his tongue. You chase your release unashamed. 

You were always weak to his touch but there was something about him now that just made you want to submit to his every order. 

When he sat up, plunging two fingers deep inside you, you rode your high out on his fingers, your legs trembling with the force of your release. You lay there, spent and shuddering. Your legs are shaking pathetically when he sits up. The moon behind him shines its light down on him. He obscures the view enough for it to look like a halo above his head. 

The red in his eyes is nothing but devilish as he licks his lips. “Turn over.” He commands. 

You didn’t hesitate, rolling onto your hands and knees as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, claws pricking at your skin as he pulled you back against him. 

He was everywhere—his hands gripping your hips, your hair, your throat—filling you completely, stretching you in ways that made your vision blur. Each thrust was punishing, driving the air from your lungs and drawing a symphony of moans and gasps from your lips. You were certain he would have broken you if you were human.

This was exactly what you had needed. You liked it rough, and in the past, while Haechan did his best to indulge you, he was afraid of hurting you. He didn't know you were a vampire; he didn’t know you could take it.

You could feel the same doubt begin to cloud his judgment as his touch became lighter and his thrusts shallower as he noticed just how rough he had been. In a sudden surge of frustration, you whipped your head back, baring your fangs to make it unmistakably clear what you were and what you could handle. “Do I need to remind you of what I am?” you hissed, your voice low and thick with desire. “Don’t hold back.”

The last remnants of his control snap, and he thrusts into you roughly. A heavy hand pushes your skull down into the damp moss while the other maintains the perfect arch in your back, elevating your hips as he fucks into you. Your eyes roll back, lost in pleasure as he mounts you, his hips snapping relentlessly against you over and over again.

His grip tightens, pulling you back to meet each primal thrust. He was treating you like a rag doll, and you loved every minute of it. It hurt good, the pain reminding you of what it felt like to be alive. 

With a fierce handful of your hair, he pulls you up, leaning down to press hot, wet kisses against the side of your mouth. His grip moves from your hair to your neck, his fingers constricting around your throat choking you. You smile up at him, your expression wild and hungry as he takes you. 

He was so deep, you could feel the delicious ache of him inside you, as if he were going to tear you apart. You haven't been to recharge so you know that the marks he left wouldn’t fade immediately. You wanted to admire the bruises on your skin for days, to remember him long after he had pulled away.

You don’t think there’s a single coherent thought behind his eyes, just a primal urge to stuff you full. He’s mumbling into your shoulder, biting the skin there before sinking his teeth in, and you whine, clenching down hard around him. His eyes roll back in ecstasy as he releases deep inside you, his body seemingly on autopilot, his hips continuing to thrust rhythmically as if driven by instinct. He pushes deeper and deeper, fucking you until the mixture of your combined release seeps out around his thick cock. With a violent shudder, you cum so hard your cunt pushes him out momentarily but he’s back inside you in seconds, helping you ride your high.

“Stupid puppy, fucked himself dumb?” you tease with a smile.

He's too far gone to register your insult. He pulls out, flipping you onto your side, sliding himself in between your legs, straddling one while throwing the other over his shoulder. He grips your thigh tightly and fucks into you again, still impossibly hard. You could never get enough of him. He hugs your leg as he thrusts, and you reach down, circling your clit, the pressure building again as his breath comes out in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good. I don’t think I can stop. Please, don’t make me stop,” he whines, the desperation in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You pull him down to connect your lips. The kiss is raw and hungry, filled with teeth as you try to kiss him but every thrust that jolts your body upward makes it difficult. You could feel yourself growing closer and you cum again, soaking his length even more. He follows soon after, burying himself deep within you as he releases his hot cum, his body twitching with the force of his release.

Hours slip by in the haze of pleasure, the sun beginning to rise by the time he finally pulls out. He’s out cold, and the fangs and claws that once decorated him are nowhere to be seen; he looks entirely human now, vulnerable and peaceful.

Whatever power he had, he’s completely drained himself of it. You’re spent too, but you gather just enough strength to stand. The sun is creeping higher and you have to get home before it fully rises, or you risk losing the last remnants of energy you have left to make the run. You consider waking him to say goodbye but he looks too peaceful. You prayed he would understand your reasoning.

Ultimately, you slip away, making it home just before the sun breaks the horizon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The past couple of weeks have left you feeling rejuvenated, like there’s a hidden spring in your step that wasn’t there before. Sooyoung, your ever-observant best friend, quickly pieces things together. You haven't mentioned your encounter with Haechan at the amusement park yet—mostly because you know she would freak out and bombard you with a million questions. Honestly, you didn’t need your best friend knowing just how much of a slut you were for your self-proclaimed mortal enemy.

Sooyoung's knowing smile has been ever-present, and you glare at her from across the couch while she takes a sip from her coffee mug. “What?” you ask, feigning annoyance.

“Nothing. Nothing,” she replies, her eyes flickering back to the movie, but you can sense her amusement. A few moments pass, and, unable to contain her excitement, her gaze shifts back to you, her smile widening. 

“Okay, seriously, what is it?” you exclaim, shoving her playfully.

Sooyoung shrugs, taking a long sip before speaking. “That’s a nice mark you’ve got there on your shoulder. Who’d you get that from?” she asks pointedly.

Your expression falters as you realize that your shirt has slid off your shoulder, revealing the bruise he left behind, the one you had tried to cover with makeup. You curse under your breath.

“No need to be ashamed, girl. I knew the day was coming sooner or later!” she laughs. “But if you think you’re leaving without telling me what happened, you’re high off pixie dust.”

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through. Before you know it, you’re giggling and screaming, overwhelmed with excitement. Sooyoung smacks you lightly on the arm, her own laughter ringing out. “No way, tell me! He got you kicking your feet like that?”

You spill everything that happened and by the end of it, Sooyoung is standing up from the couch. “We need to go out! He broke your dry spell, this calls for a celebration!”

You playfully smack her on the butt as she turns toward the remote to switch off the TV. “Shut up,” you laugh.

You can hear the bass thumping even before you step into the old, abandoned church. City vampires know how to throw the best raves, and you’re not surprised to see half of the city’s paranormal packed inside. 

Sooyoung drops her cloak, her wings unfurling gracefully across her back as she shrinks down a few sizes. At parties like this, no one bothers to cloak. Within the weathered walls of the church, every supernatural creature is free to shed their human facades and embrace their true forms. You allow your eyes to gleam a deep crimson, fangs brushing your bottom lip as you lose yourself to the pulsating rhythm of the music. 

Hours slip by before you even realize it. The music here is enchanted—not so overwhelming that it would keep you dancing to the brink of exhaustion, but just enough to carry good vibes throughout the crowd. It also amplifies the high from the pixie dust, ensuring that everyone who joins in the dance has a good trip.

“I'm gonna go find a pixie! Want to come?” Sooyoung asks over the pulsating beats.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, waving her off. She nods and heads off into the crowd while you make your way out back to get some fresh air.

Stepping outside, you spot a few couples making out against the building while others drift in quiet conversation. One familiar figure catches your eye. Jeno was leaning against a tree smiling at something on his phone.

Curiosity piqued, you walked up to him. “What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Looking after my pack. Why are you bothering me?” he replies, not bothering to look up.

“Just making small talk, you infuriating mutt,” you roll your eyes.

“Your boyfriend’s also a mutt, so how’s that make you feel?” He shoots back.

You glare at him, feeling a pang of irritation. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” you snap, afraid the wrong crowd might overhear.

“Right, that’s too bad,” he smirks, finally looking at you.

“And why is that?” you grit your teeth.

“You didn’t know? He presented. He’ll be going into rutt soon and he’s gonna need a mate if he wants to survive it.”

Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to ask what he presented as, it was obvious.

“You know, my dad’s been trying to find someone compatible with him.” Jeno says, an edge of satisfaction in his tone.

“And that’s probably going as well as it did for you,” you shot back. “Your sorry self is still alone. What, are you jealous that you'll have to jerk it solo during your rutt?” Venom laced your words.

Jeno’s smile grows wider, and he knows he's hit a nerve. “Don’t be too sad when he stops coming around. I warned you,” he says, shoulder checking you and heading back into the party.

You felt sick. If what jeno said was true Haechan would be looking for a mate to satisfy his rutt. Just like that your world crashes down around you. You go back inside and look for Sooyoung. When you finally locate her, it’s in the storage room, where she’s wrapped up in a makeout session with Renjun, a pixie you recognize as her casual fling.

“We need to go,” you insist, cutting right through their moment.

Renjun pressed a lingering kiss to her neck as she glanced past him at you, surprise flickering across her face. “Aww, but it was just getting fun,” she pouted.

“Well, I’m heading home,” you state flatly. “I don’t feel good.” Without waiting for her to pull herself from Renjun's embrace, you race home

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It had been days since you heard from Haechan; he wasn’t answering your texts or returning your calls. It was rare for him to be home anymore, so you weren’t surprised to find his place empty when you went to check on him. Had his rutt already begun? You cringed at the thought and quickly shook it from your mind. If he were in rutt, they would have found him someone to lay with by now.

You realized that constantly thinking about him was driving you crazy. You needed a distraction. You left your home and headed to the library, but all you could think about were those late nights helping him study within those four walls. You decided to visit Sooyoung, hoping she could take your mind off things, but  she had taken too much pixie dust at the last party and was still coming down from the high. 

There was only one place you knew where you could silence your thoughts. You needed to recharge. Maybe if you slept long enough, you could forget about what Jeno had told you, maybe even forget about Haechan.

It wasn’t until you reached the cemetery that you realized tonight was a full moon. If Haechan had truly gone into rutt, it would officially begin tonight. A wave of bloodlust washed over you as tormenting images of Haechan with someone else flooded your mind. Maybe he was right; perhaps you and Hera did share some traits after all.

You could become deadly when you were jealous.

You locked yourself in your coffin, fighting the urge to storm into werewolf territory and tear them all apart. They weren’t the only ones who became stronger under a full moon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The lid of your casket slid open, and when you locked eyes with the person who dared to interrupt your sleep, a primal urge to rip his throat out surged through you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey, wait!” Mark shouted, jumping back several feet. You rose from your coffin, the scent surrounding you immediately igniting a rage.

The last thing you wanted to smell upon waking up was mutt.

“What the hell are you doing in my territory?” you snapped, your voice icy cold. “This breaks the treaty, and I have free rein to murder all of you.”

You scanned the graveyard, spotting Ten, Johnny, and Yangyang standing several yards away. Jeno and Jaehyun were closer, but not close enough to be within your reach, unlike Mark—who was either brave or incredibly stupid for waking you.

“Guys, I told you this was a bad idea,” Mark whined.

“She likes you the most; she would have killed me already if I'd woken her up,” Jeno replied, arms crossed.

“You have five seconds to explain what’s going on before I use your hide to make myself a coat,” you threatened, your patience wearing thin.

“It’s Haechan! He needs you!” Mark exclaimed, hands raised defensively.

You dropped your guard. “What? What happened?” You asked, stalking closer and gripping him by the front of his shirt.

“He’s in rutt. We tried to find him a partner to help him through it, but he refused. He’s getting more and more agitated as the days pass, and usually, the rutt would be dying down by now, but it isn’t,” Mark huffed, worry etched on his face as he recalled the events.

That idiot—what did he think he was doing?

“Dad thinks he’ll drive himself insane if he keeps refusing his urges,” Jeno butts in.

“How long has he been like that?” you demanded.

“Three days,” Jaehyun spoke up. “As much as we don’t like it, he’s our brother, and we can’t lose him. You need to go to him.”

“You waited three days to find me?” you yelled, incredulous.

“We thought he would break eventually, but now he just becomes aggressive if an omega tries to come near him,” Johnny explained, cautiously stepping closer now that he was certain you wouldn’t try to kill anyone.

“Well, let’s go,” you said, preparing to run off, until Jeno stepped in front of you. “If you like your head being on your shoulders, I’d move.” 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? If he hurts you, he’ll never forgive us for bringing you to him in this condition,” Jeno continued, his concern evident.

You flashed him a confident smile. “Fully charged.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

This time, when you crossed into werewolf territory, the atmosphere was far less hostile. Jeno and Jaehyun led the way and eventually brought you into a secluded room where a heavy door stood, carved with symbols that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. You could feel the whispers of magic, familiar and foreign all at once. To the side, a hidden passageway led down a narrow set of stairs, the faint echo of your footsteps reverberating off the stone walls as you descended.

“You’ve been keeping him locked up underground?” you questioned, a wave of memories from your past life flashing before your eyes. 

“This is where we all go during the first rut. It can be dangerous,” Jaehyun explained. “The same goes for newly turned werewolves. If they can’t find control, the only way to keep everyone safe is to let them weather the storm down here.”

You finally reached a door at the end of the hallway. Jaehyun paused, the concern etched on his face deepening. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re asking,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Well, we’ll be out here if you need us. Just yell,” Jeno said. He handed you a key, it's cold metal feeling heavy in your palm.

The door loomed before you, heavy and imposing, its surface cool to the touch as you reached for the handle. You stepped into the room, and your heart sank at the sight of Haechan. He was lying on the bed, shackled to the floor, but the chains were long enough to allow him some space to move around. 

His red eyes snapped to you the moment you entered, studying your figure in the middle of the room. He was barely dressed, clad in nothing but a pair of briefs, and the covers beneath him were shredded to pieces. The remnants of furniture lay scattered around, completely demolished, and the walls bore deep, angry scars. Some looked like old wounds, while others appeared fresh, no doubt done by Haechan.

A sheen of sweat coated his tan skin, his hair matted to his forehead. Before you could process it, he was in front of you, moving faster than you’d ever seen him. If you had been any closer, he might have reached out to grab you. He thrashed against his restraints, hands straining towards you in desperation.

You weren’t afraid; there was no hesitation as you stepped into his embrace.

He pulls you close against his chest, his grip possessive and strong. He was burning like a furnace against you. “I missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost unrecognizable. “I’ve been waiting, holding on for you.” You can feel his arousal pressing stiff against your stomach. Your body reacts immediately to him, your nipples harden and you can feel yourself getting wet.

“It’s okay, let go,” you reassure him, using the key Jeno had given you earlier to unbind him. “I trust you.”

As the last of his shackles clatter to the floor, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he slams you against the nearest wall. He bites your lip before he rips your shirt down the middle, pulling away just enough to attach his mouth to one of your breasts, his other hand eagerly exploring your body. He humps at your leg pathetically, dragging his cock over the rough fabric of your jeans.

You fumble with your pants, realizing too late that you should have chosen something with easier access. His patience wears thin, and with a flash of claws, he impatiently rips the crotch from your jeans. The cold air immediately hits your wet core, and Haechan inhales deeply. He drops to his knees in seconds, shoving his nose deep in your cunt, he wanted to drown in your scent.

“Haechan,” you gasp, instinctively pushing his head away.

One of his hands grips both your wrists tightly, pinning them against your lower stomach as he leans in closer, inhaling your scent like it’s the sweetest perfume. You glance down to find him stroking himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He buries his face deeper, forcing his tongue between your legs. You can feel the tip of his tongue prod at the tight rim of your asshole. Heat rushes to your face as you try to close your thighs, but he pulls back only to bite your thigh in warning.

“Don’t fight me. You’re going to lose,” he huffs.

You shiver at his command, surrendering as you throw a leg over his shoulder. He instantly resets his focus, lapping at you while moaning in appreciation. 

“God,” he exhales, the muscles in his arms straining as he grips himself tighter, strokes growing rough and desperate. His eyes screw shut in frustration. “Not enough, I need you.” 

He manhandles you, turning you to face the wall and pressing you firmly against it. Your jeans cling uncomfortably to your skin as he grips your hips tightly. In one deep thrust, he’s inside you, and it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. He feels different from before—thicker—and you can’t help but rise onto your tiptoes with every deep thrust. You brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the surface.

“You don’t know how bad I wished you were here. I needed you,” he grunts. His thrusts grow more aggressive. “Where the hell were you? Huh?” His grip tightens in your hair, forcing you to look back at him.

You whimper, brain fogging as he stretches you open. “I’m here, Haechan. I’ll always be right here.

You feel the familiar heat building within you, and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. “That’s right, baby. Give it to me.”

You come hard and he pulls out, dropping to his knees to lick deep inside you as he ate you out from the back. He wanted to taste every last drop of you and you would let him suck you dry.

You don't realize he's thrown you on the bed until you're staring at the ceiling, the tattered sheets beneath you. He crawls towards you, like a predator about to catch his prey. Gripping your ankle, he pulls you closer, ripping your pants off.  When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on his lips. 

He sinks back into you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against him, your nails raking down his chest as he takes you. 

“Mmh fuck.” He whines.

His mouth drops open in pleasure and you can tell he appreciates the way your pussy grips him. He looks like hes on cloud nine as he fucks you into the bed. You were exactly what he had been needing these past few days. You grip the hair at the back of his nape and pull. He moans breathlessly and his next thrust is so sharp it knocks you up the bed a few inches.

“Alpha,” you moan.

He grips your thighs, pressing them against your chest, holding you in place as he ravages you. The sound of the bed creaking fills the room with each thrust, the headboard connecting rhythmically with the wall. He doesn’t relent, his hand gripping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. “Say it again.”

“Alpha!” you scream as he abuses your cunt. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, capturing your lips in a quick messy kiss. “Say it.”

“I'm yours, only yours.”

As he releases his grip on your face, he pulls your hair, making you watch as he thrusts between your legs. “Look at how you take me. So fucking beautiful.” He growls.

He quickened his pace, raw and desperate, and the bed shakes beneath you.

“Shit” you scream.  You dig your nails into his shoulder and take it. You cling to him, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure builds low in your belly. His lips find yours again, silencing your moans as he fucks you with an intensity that borders on pain. But it’s perfect—it’s everything you both needed.

You don't even get the chance to warn him when you come around him, clamping down impossibly tight. He fucks you into the mattress, unable to hold back and the bed shakes so forcefully it gives out under you, collapsing to the ground with a loud creak. He doesn’t look up, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t care.

He buries his face into your neck and chants your name. You could feel him swelling inside of you and he bites down hard onto your shoulder hips stilling as he spills into you. 

He rolls you on top of him but stays buried inside of you. Knotting you to make sure not a drop of his cum spills out. You take a look around the room, your shredded clothes lay haphazardly on the ground and the bed lies in splinters below you. You laugh breathlessly before snuggling closer to him.

“I'm sorry I was so late,” you say. “When they told me you were in rutt I thought you would take someone else.”

“Never. You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ll ever want.”

You smile, tracing patterns on his chest. “Good. Because I’m not sharing.”

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. He looks at peace, his eyes no longer clouded with desperation.

A loud knock echoes through the room.

“Haechan!” Jeno’s voice calls from outside the door. “If you're back to normal We need to talk. Now.”

Your body stiffens at his voice. You had forgotten they were out there.

You feel Haechan’s body stiffen as well, his grip on you tightening. “What is it?” he barks, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“It’s serious. Dad found out about her being here. He’s ordered everyone to the meeting hall… including her.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It isn’t until much later that you and Haechan muster the energy to finally roll out of the bed, or what’s left of it. You find yourself dressed in his clothes, feeling a little shy. The walk to the meeting hall is quiet, but Haechan’s hand remains firmly intertwined with yours, offering a sense of strength and support.

At the head of the room stands jeno’s father, the pack leader.

 His eyes shift from Haechan to you, studying you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. You had assumed it was his orders that brought you here, but maybe not.

“You,” he says, his voice low and measured. “Come closer.”

Hesitant, you move forward, Haechan’s hand reluctantly releasing yours. The alpha steps down from his platform, circling you slowly. 

“Do you know,” he begins, stopping in front of you, “how rare it is for a werewolf in rutt to resist an omega’s scent? Even more so for three days?” His tone isn’t accusatory, it’s almost… impressed.

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond. “I… I didn’t realize…”

“And yet,” he continues, ignoring your stammering, “he endured it. Refused every omega offered to him, tore himself apart fighting his instincts—for you.” He pauses, his gaze piercing. “Do you understand what that means?”

Your breath catches. 

“It means,” he says, his voice softening ever so slightly, “that you mean more to him than anything else. More than his instincts. More than his own survival.” He turns to Haechan, who’s standing rigidly nearby. “Isn’t that right, son?”

Haechan doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” His voice is steady, unwavering. “She’s mine. And I’m hers.”

The alpha stares at him for a long moment before nodding, almost imperceptibly. Then, he turns back to you. “If one of my sons is willing to endure hell for you, then I can see no reason to stand in the way of this bond. I give you both my blessing.”

The room erupts into murmurs, shock rippling through the pack. But the alpha silences them with a single raised hand. “Anyone who challenges this decision will answer to me directly.” His gaze sweeps across the room, daring anyone to speak against him. No one does.

Haechan steps forward.  “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

The alpha nods again, his expression unreadable. “Take care of her,” he directs towards Haechan before turning back to you. “And take care of yourself. If this is the path you choose, then make sure you’re strong enough to walk it.”

You nod at him, still in shock as haechan picks you up off the ground in a tight hug.

Mark and Ten approach, clapping Haechan on the back. “Guess you’re part of the pack now,” Ten teases you playfully.

Jeno steps forward too. “Don’t think just because my dad likes you that I do.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Haechan’s neck. “It will be a cold day in hell before we’re friends.”

“Just ignore him,” Johnny says with a chuckle. “If the chief says so then you’re family. We’ve got your back whether he likes it or not.”

Jaehyun nods in agreement, a reassuring smile on his face. “If anyone tries to come between you two, you can rely on us.”

A smile blooms across your face. All the fear and worry you once carried begins to lift. You felt safe knowing they had your back.  Vampire or werewolf—let them come. You’re not fighting by yourself anymore. 

[merakiui]

hello! I'd like to participate in your event and check in at this lovely hotel of yours! could I ask for a flower bouquet from Idia? I would like some lemon squares and perhaps sugar stars (teratophilia/monster of your choice or werewolf whichever is easier!) if the latter is off the menu then just the lemon squares is fine. Thank you for hosting this event!

yandere!idia shroud x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, teratophilia, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied stalking note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

Beyond limestone pillars twined with verdant strands of ivy, past orange groves in full bloom, and situated in the center of a marble platform raised ever so slightly, the culmination of humanity—a perfect, precious mortal of flesh and blood—sits in slivers of sunlight and brings brush to canvas. It is not the artistic ability that has left such a hellish, frightful creature so wonderfully enthralled but, rather, the nature in which you resign yourself to the arts, blinded by a celestial cloth, enveloped in the natural temperatures that surround you. Your hand is led by sensitive intuition, acutely aware of the colors that stain a weathered palette, and you grant life to marvelous mirages.

It is that same tender, loving hand that shall slay him, should he step beyond his bounds and interfere with the era of human creation. The world, as it has now become, is dictated by categories so studiously documented on stone tablets and spoken freely in the streets and on hilltops by philosophers excelling in all subjects. And within these groupings the gorgon is feared as the fiend and the human, most often, is celebrated as the courageous hero. Idia is neither fiend, nor hero, but for the sake of human comprehension he must be viewed as the former.

Humans are cyclical creatures, bound by schedules and the times brought on by night and day. Despite the routines they subject themselves to, whether out of necessity or for the sake of comfortable pleasure, humans continue to fascinate. Idia was never partial to them, and yet whenever he admires you his opinion regarding humankind brightens just like the far-off horizons you often portray. And every other day when the sun is at its lowest, just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting everything in creamy yellow-orange hues, you stand at your makeshift easel and paint the world as you hear it, smell it, taste it, feel it.

Idia is content to watch from afar, studying you as though you are the most abstract art he has even beheld. Most days, he’s grateful for the cloth that keeps your sense of sight contained, for if you were to look upon his ghastly countenance you would most certainly harden into an artifact lost to time.

And yet it is the allure of the unobtainable that pulls him to your person.

You feel the disturbance before you hear it. He’s standing near you; you're sure of it, and for a moment you halt your activity, head tilted skywards so that you may listen to the one who looms behind you. With a gentle breeze combing through the greenery and the sounds of various animals filling the silence, the atmosphere is rather tranquil. It’s broken by the fast-paced thrumming of Idia’s heart and his nervous, labored breaths. 

Interactions with humans—especially with his most beloved—are petrifying. But he persists in his endeavors, rooting himself to his spot, unwilling to retreat when he’s managed to accomplish this much. His hands hover above your bare shoulders, and for a second he wonders whether delicate, human hands would fit in clawed, monstrous hands. He’s far surpassed the point of no return and so, with shaking arms, he lowers his hands onto your shoulders.

You don’t flinch, but you do turn your head towards him and by some frantic instinct his eyes and the eyes of a dozen snakes squeeze shut. It is not you who will turn him to stone—this he knows well—but it’s the dread that you might remove your blindfold and bear witness to such a grotesque visage that has him shrinking away. 

“May I be of help?” you ask, and your voice wavers in a way that tells of uncertainty, of candlelight struggling to survive as it’s slowly snuffed, of worries laced with underlying curiosity. “Your hands are very…cold.”

Of course they are. He’s always cold. So cold. So lonely. What he’d do to warm himself in your embrace, to curl into your anatomy and feel that warmth between every sugared smooch, to tear the chiton from your figure and place frigid palms upon a perfect, pretty canvas. 

“S-Sorry… Sorry,” he whispers, cursing himself for his inability to speak syllables without a stutter or a hiss. “I… You… I… U-Um, I…”

With this proximity, he can smell the flowery fragrance that envelops your person. Even your canvas is decorated in shapes reminiscent of the most beautiful blossoms. Experimentally, he squeezes your shoulders, claws just barely raking over skin, and you flinch away. 

“W-Wait! I just want…” He swallows his apprehensions when one of the many snakes wriggling atop his head nudges him encouragingly. Another one lowers to your cheek, prodding you with its smooth head. You try to take a step back, but the tiny reptile hisses a low warning and you go obediently still. “I just want…t-to stay like this…a little longer…”

Please.

It’s wrong and many levels of forbidden, but the contact is everything he’s ever dreamed of. You’re a sanctuary—a beauty not meant for a monster—and if he could just show you that he could be your haven, in spite of snakes and scales, you might come to accept him. An impossible fiction, perhaps, but even so it’s all he’s desired.

With anxiety-riddled submission, you remain rooted to the marble platform. Idia’s grown daring now, a hand snaking along the length of your arm to entwine his thin, spidery digits with yours. Your breath hitches; he’d like to taste your heartbeat, feel it between pointed fangs, and savor your every sigh.

Carnal instinct leads him in a one-sided waltz. He presses himself against you, caging you between his arms and the easel, and ruts his hips slowly, awkwardly. He’s every bit as inexperienced in this as he is with the intimate intricacies of human affection, but then it’s the friction and the sound of your quiet, quickening breaths that has him hardening against the fabric of his own chiton. His presses kisses into your neck, stamps each one onto you like a special marking, until you’re shuddering in his arms. Tears dampen the cloth wound tight around your eyes, tracking down your cheeks in fat, salty drops.

“D-Don’t cry! Um… I… Ah…” Gingerly, he brings a finger to your face to swipe the tears away. Another snake nuzzles your arm, and another presses its head to your lips, a forked tongue flicking out to smell the potent scent of fear clinging to you. You whimper, and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and enticing. “It… It’ll be okay.”

It’s a promise. 

Trembling hands take hold of the fabric of your chiton, lifting it to reveal your rear. He’s thought of this moment for ages—though for a human ages could only mean a decade. It feels as if Idia’s fallen at your feet for worship ever since he opened his eyes on the world. 

“I… I’ve always thought about you—about this.” He places his palm upon the small of your back and observes how your spine straightens in alarm. “I think you’re…” His voice lowers anxiously. “R-Really nice…to look at.”

Your mouth opens and shuts, only to open once more when you gasp. His cock curves up between your ass, and he grinds against you with more determination this time, fueled with newfound confidence. Two fingers prod at your mouth and you deny him with a dismayed whine, but then there’s a cacophony of hisses coming from the many snakes on his head and you part your lips slowly. The digits slip inside, and you suck on them weakly, your cries coming in muffled hiccups. 

Idia exhales a giddy, breathless giggle. “Cute… Really cute…” Fondly, he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

If only he could brand this experience into the forefront of his mind forever…

Unless there’s a next time, and there will always be a next time. 

A forked tongue traces along the shell of your ear. He’s smiling a wide, toothy grin as he rolls his hips, searching for that fabled seventh heaven. And perhaps it's a delusion, but he thinks you’re matching his movements now.

Delusion or not, he’ll carve it into his very existence until he’s a sculpture chiseled whole.

[whereserpentswalk]

They say there was a monster hunter, who had killed countless cryptids and entities, who fell in love with a vampire. They fell in love when they were fighting, but as they rolled around it soon felt as if they were playing, and soon they kissed, and he forgot about her fangs that could have so easily bitten him. And for once he chose not to kill a monster.

And she told him that she could be with him, and be his lover, for as long as he wished. But she reminded him that she was a free being, that she would never be tamed by him, and never made to put down her weapons, and be made to be like a human bride. She would never be able to marry him by any law, never have sex with him or bare his children, never take him as her only lover, or his god as her only god, and when he died her life would still be far from over. And he agreed with his words, but hoped she would change her mind some day on all things.

As as the hunter was still young, he let her hunt with him. She could see and hear better than any human, and knew where her fellow unseelie lurked. She could hypnotize a mothman as he shot at it from the ground, and could track a werewolf in the darkest of nights. And they would run together across city streets in the moonlight, and for a time their love was true. And all the local bars and local artists began to know their names well, and as the cold autumn night winds blew in their hair, they knew eachother at their best. Soon they had an apartment together, and he would brush her hair in the morning light as she slept.

At first they thought they were alike. But as he saw her hunt more, saw her mouth open wide into a mess as fangs and sharp teeth and then fold back to human shape, saw her run naked to chase down a stray goblin, and saw her sexless body naked, with scars from where her humanity was lost, he began to see her as a wild beast he had on a leash. And as she saw all the things he hunted, how willingly he would trust the testimony of humans, and how little he would show ugly things mercy. There were many creatures she had to convince him not to kill, as many as there were creatures she helped him kill, and she too felt she was hold a leash with a wild beast at the other end more and more as time went on and on.

And as he got older and older, and he began getting stranger and stranger freinds. Strange to the vampire at least, to the monster hunter they were very normal. No longer did he know the poor, the students and teachers and programmers and artists. Soon he had freinds who worked in finance, in law, who ran startups, or women who lived like pets in their husband's laps. And suddenly he wanted her to look presentable to them, even if they knew she was a vampire she couldn't be the kind they would be afraid of. Her mouth couldn't open all the way, it had to remain in a human looking state. And she couldn't spread her wings, and she had to move like a human, and dress well around them. And when they ate she couldn't drink blood, she just had to be served mortal food, and state at it as she ate nothing. And he'd pet her little head as he answered so many questions for her.

And as he got older still he began to have richer and richer clients. Fewer people in danger and more and more people looking to get rid of "problematic elements". And more and more did the hunter look at the vampire and realize that he was older now, and she was still young. And he wondered if he should have told her to transform him when he was still young, and make him like her, of the unseelie kind, forever young. Yet he thought he was too late for that, not knowing how much older he still had to grow.

And eventually, as he was older, and his clients ever richer, he told her that he was moving. He didn't ask her. He told her. And it was assumed she'd move with him. And he took her to a town, just outside of the city limits, where you needed a car to leave. And there was nothing to do at night, and no cryptids or entities but her. And there was a big house with a TV. And he would drive into the city to hunt, without her. And she would no longer walk the city streets, free and wild, and she would no longer have freinds outside of him. And she was alone, for the first time in centuries she had nobody.

And once, after they had lived together in that town for years. As he had grown older, he told her that it was time she finally slept with him. He pointed to his body and explained to her that he had needs as a man, and she had duties as his wife, and it was the first time he ever called her his wife. And as she told him no, he pulled down his pants, and began to force her mouth open. And it did open, but he had forgotten how wide it did open, she had made it look human for him for so long, and soon the bottom half of her face had once again shown itself as a mess of sharp fangs and many jaws.

They say she flew back to the city that night. And say that his body still sits in that empty house. Cold and abandoned, stripped of pants, and drained of blood, doomed to be forgotten.

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews: Darklord Daclaud Heinfroth

Domain: Dominia Formation: 740 BC Power Level: 💀💀💀💀 ⚫ Sources: 2e: Bleak House, Domains of Dread, Feast of Goblyns, Ravenloft Campaign Setting: Domains and Denizens; 3e: Ravenloft 3e (brief description of the Domain in the Sea of Sorrows write up)

“Doctor” Daclaud Heinfroth is the Darklord of Dominia and debatably ruled over Gundarak for a brief period of time. Heinfroth is a rather hairy individual with a heavy bread and eyebrows that could use a fair amount of sculpting. In fact, his overall appearance is much like a stereotypically werewolf in their human form…Except this particular wolf like man eventually became a vampire.

Heinfroth grew up in Gundarak and became obsessed with mental illness after witnessing the mental decline and eventual death of his mother when he was a child. Heinfroth researched the cause of his mother’s mortality and soon discovered that psychiatric illness and mental disability ran in his family.

Convinced that one day he would meet the same fate as his mother, Heinfroth obsessively studied mental illness with the goal of curing the condition before it had the chance to take hold of him. However, as the years passed by in diligent study, he was no closer to a cure.

Eventually he became haunted by a voice that filled his head and visions of horrors just in the corners of his eyes. Believing this to be the first signs of his declining mental health, Heinfroth panicked and began to conduct experiments that certainly would not pass any ethical boards of health.

Heinfroth performed direct transfusions of the spinal and cerebral fluid from who those he deemed as “sane” to those he deemed “insane”. This process left many of his ‘patients’ incoherent and in a debilitated mental state. This mattered little to the ‘doctor’ and Heinfroth saw his experimentations as great successes. In fact, he decided to perform the procedure on himself before he had definitive results as all good ‘mad’ scientists do...

He kidnaped a young woman to fulfill the role of ‘cerebral fluid donator’ and after draining her fluid, injected it into himself. As chance would have it, this young woman was in the process of becoming one of Duke Gundar’s vampire brides. Perhaps Gundar should have watched over her more closely? The amount of vampires that lose their would be ‘brides’ to random kidnappings and supposed do-gooders is staggering. They certainly do not know how to take care of their investments.

Regardless, injecting the cerebral fluid of a half-turned vampire resulted in a rather unique transformation in our hairy doctor. He became a cerebral vampire, a vampire that feeds on the cerebral fluid of the brain instead of blood. Cerebral vampires slowly drain their victim’s mental capacities, eventually leaving them with nothing but the haunting echoes of their former mind. They are, in some ways, stronger than your typical vampire – they are unharmed by the sun (though some sources indicate that they eventually begin to burn), cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons, their gaze is akin to the hypnotic pattern spell, and their touch acts as the confusion spell. Heinfroth has been known to flaunt his love for garlic to confuse any potential hunters.

They, naturally, have their own weaknesses. Cerebral vampires must sleep in a coffin for 8 hours over the course of a 24 hour period, though this does not need to be during the day. They are repelled by the scent of pure alcohol and holy symbols, though neither can destroy them. There’s something to be said about  a doctor that’s unable to use pure alcohol to sterilize their equipment…

The only proven way to destroy a cerebral vampire completely is to bind them in a straitjacket, cut off their head, and stuff their mouth with holy wafers.

Now that I’ve discussed what a cerebral vampire is, let us return to Heinfroth’s origins. When Gundar discovered what Heinfroth had done to his future bride, he was enraged and planned on killing him in a most violent fashion. That is, until Gundar realized that because Heinfroth took his future bride’s cerebral fluid, Gundar could use his mental domination on the ‘doctor’.

Gundar forced Heinfroth to serve him for decades. In 735 BC, Gundar and Heinfroth plotted to overthrow Harkon Lukas and enlist Heinfroth as Kartakass’s new lord. Now, just because one looks like a werewolf doesn’t mean they are suited to rule over a Domain of wolves. Do you have any musical talent, Heinfroth? I think not and Harkon, rightfully so, foiled their plot with a bit of trickery of his own…that and the assistance of a party of adventurers.

Heinfroth never wanted Kartakass, however, and planned on overthrowing Gundar himself. Gundar is an idiot. He trusted Heinfroth explicitly and lured the adventurer who foiled his plans into a trap – a trap in which Gundar himself was rather helpless within. Now, he was only to appear helpless and Heinfroth was supposed to dominate the group of ‘heroes’ once they were properly lured in, but instead Heinfroth did nothing and watched as the ‘heroes’ destroyed his master.

Heinfroth claimed lordship of Gundarak, but shirked his duties in favor of feeding upon more victims at his asylum.  When the Grand Conjunction of 740 BC occurred, through no fault of my own, Gundarak was absorbed by Barovia and Invidia and Heinfroth was gifted his own domain – a small island known as Dominia. Dominia only contains Dr. Daclaud Heinfroth’s Asylum for the Mentally Disturbed and wolf-infested woods. In another event that many scholars are still trying to understand, Dominia was dragged into the Core and is now an island within the Sea of Sorrows.

Heinfroth is still obsessed with curing his own future bout of insanity and continues to take in ‘patients’ that have the misfortune of washing up on the shores of Dominia. Some patients come willingly as well…I hear the good Doctor van Richten voluntarily sought out treatment there and was in Heinfroth’s tender care for some time before the little hunter went missing. 

[russianspy24]

Absolutely SHAMELESS plug of my fanfic and some previous gifs and photomanips I made.

Summary: For a thousand years, Elijah Mikaelson has upheld his family’s legacy—bound by honor, duty, and an unshakable resolve. But when a prophecy whispers of a way out, he is drawn to Chicago, a city of power and reinvention, where fate takes the shape of a woman who should mean nothing… and yet changes everything.

An impossible discovery offers the Mikaelsons a choice—true freedom, true mortality. But what they see as salvation, others see as a threat. Because if they turn human, so do their sirelines. The vampires they created may not surrender their power. Witches and werewolves see a chance to erase their kind forever. And if the Mikaelsons take this path, will the supernatural world let them? But amid the coming storm, new possibilities arise.

The witch with the power to unmake them challenges everything Elijah believes. Klaus, embracing his werewolf side, is drawn to a woman who refuses to fear him. And Rebekah may finally have a life with the man who never stopped loving her. Because this time, the end of the Originals may change everything.

Read here on AO3 XD

[cawthorntales]

"What are you doing here? Did I do something wrong?"

"No Blake." Grim answered. "I've done some thinking and realized that I can't expect you to trust me over the society if I don't tell you everything."

"Really?" I asked surprised.

"Yes." Grim replied.

"Can I ask a question?"

"You may."

"Why do you care so much about Ambrosia? Is it because it brings people back? And you are against that. There would be no suffering for you to enjoy?"

"Is that what you think?" Grim asked. I could tell I'd offended him.

"Well you are the Grim Reaper."

"I lack morality yes. But I am not heartless or cruel. I don't take delight in what I do."

"Then why do it? I was a kid. I needed my family."

"I know you did and I am sorry I had to reap them, but it was their fate." Answered sadly.

"Their fate was to be with me. To see me grow up." I retorted trying to not cry.

Look a balance needs to exist in the world. Do you know what would happen if everything just existed forever? Eventually resources would crumble from overpopulation."

"Then how come supernatural's are immortal? How is that fair?"

"But they aren't Blake. If a werewolf is attacked with silver they die, if a vampire is exposed to sunlight, staked in the heart or doesn't feed they die, if a fairy is exposed to poison or attacked with steel they die. It's true that they can go on forever unlike humans, but they aren't invincible. They can die too. And look at all they give up. Vampires can never feel the sun, werewolves can lose themselves and control if they aren't careful, fairies health are tied to their home. And all of them have been persecuted and hunted just for who they are before humanity got better."

"I-I never thought about any of that."

"As to why I care about Ambrosia that ties into the society. Despite what you think I would have no issue with people using Ambrosia to bring a loved one back for a second chance. In fact I am a believer in second chances. But I also fill it is something that effort should be put into and earned. Not something you could just do willy nilly."

"I guess that makes sense." I answered.

"Plus the society uses it for evil."

"What do you mean?"

"I know the founder of the Ambrosia Society in fact three hundred years ago she was my best friend."

"I never would have pegged the Grim Reaper to have friends."

"There's a lot about me you and other mortals don't know Blake. Anyway I trusted Deanna more than I had any human before. I knew she was scared of dying, but as her friend I tried my best to reassure her that when her time came it'd all be ok. I even broke my own rules and told her how old she'd be when her time was up. Little did I know she was using me. Our friendship was never real.

She learned as much as she could about me, my powers and the supernatural world as a whole. She used that knowledge to craft the first ambrosia and the first young again potion. She then fled with her findings and went into hiding. She built her society up with other criminals and together for centuries they've built their criminal empires. They've done every crime you can think of. I've tried and tried to stop them, but reaping them when I do catch one does no good as they just use the tools at their disposal to revive.

Because of the Ambrosia Society and my own foolishness for thinking I could ever have a friend thousands of people have died or been harmed of the centuries before their time. I have to stop them and I have to make Ambrosia something only people with pure intentions can access."

"I'm sorry." I said." I can't imagine that kind of burden. They sound awful. But why are they helping me?"

"They usually don't interact with the mortals who partake in my quest to learn ambrosia. That is why many don't get far. They must see potential in you. Deanna is wanting to recruit you."

"I'd never join."

"He said that too."

"Who?" I asked.

"Mortimer Goth. He told me he just wanted his wife Bella back. I saw him as a potential friend."

"What happened?"

"The society got to him. They told him they could bring his wife back and he could make himself even richer off of the schemes the society had. He feel for it."

"Mortimer doesn't seem like that?" I questioned. I'd only met him once when I first came to town and he sent me the Grimophone, but I'd not heard from him since.

"Because the society betrayed him. They brought his wife back like he promised, but she was disgusted by what the society is about and she didn't want her or Mortimer involved. She threatened to expose them. Deanna killed her. They then tossed Mortimer out and moved locations. He once again lost it all."

"That's awful. However I can promise you I am not swayed. I do not care about money, power or whatever else they can offer. I just want my parents and sister. So I will continue to learn what I can from them. I can play stupid until I have the information you need."

"I hope so." Grim said before he vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

[elfboyeros]

Old Friends

⚠️Discussion of violence

More vampire shit here

With a fire in the fireplace, sitting on a comfortable couch, the earthy smells of New Orleans, and the Le Doux home, one of Wilhelm’s few comforts. Belladonna resting against her head against his arm, almost caught by the claws of sleep.

“Mein Schwan,” Wilhelm coos, “You should retire.”

Belladonna groans softly, “But then I’ll be alone,” she remarks.

“I won’t be too far behind you,” he admits.

“Mhm, I know how you like to talk, my beloved,” she comments.

Wilhelm chuckles, “But if you want me to sleep alone,” she sighs dramatically, attempting to get off the couch before he grabs her wrist and pulls her back down.

“Stay, I’ll never make you sleep alone,” he commands softly.

Belladonna smiled, kissing him briefly, before laying her head in his lap comfortably drifting off as he played with her hair, until his own fatigue started to catch up with him.

“I’m sorry, my friend!” The old werewolf patriarch exclaims coming into the sitting room seeing Belladonna snoozing in Wilhelm’s lap and the old vampire resting with his head tilted back with his eyes closed, “Oh, my apologies.”

“You're fine, Zacharie,” Wilhelm remarks raising his head, “I wasn’t even asleep.”

“Again, I am sorry. I don’t think that would take so long,” Zacharie comments, making drinks for himself and Wilhelm, “So many children to give proper goodnight to.”

“We did arrive late,” Wilhelm retorts.

“It was quite a shock I will admit,” Zacharie says handing his vampiric friend a drink, “Turning up the night before my daughter’s wedding with a woman, and not just any woman but your wife saying you’ve been married for almost 3 years.”

“I am sorry, life has been going this past couple of years.”

“I would have liked a letter at least.”

“Again, things have—"

“It’s a simple letter, Wilhelm, a wedding invitation,” Zacharie scoffs.

“There was no wedding to invite you to.”

“Excuse me?”

“It wasn’t a priority.”

Zacharie scoffs, “A wedding, not a priority. I don’t believe that.”

“Zacharie,” Wilhelm sighs.

“I understand that you and I have different priorities and ways of thinking, but to deprive such a sweet young woman of a wedding is cruel.”

“Zacharie, it was her choice not to have a wedding.”

“Huh?”

“She was married once, she hated the wedding, she didn’t want to have another one.”

“You said she was…”

“20 when we met,” Wilhelm answers.

Zacharie hummed, before furrowing his brow, “That’s young age,” he comments

“You say as most of your children get married at 20,” Wilhelm retorts.

“Hey! I let them choose! That’s more than most men do!” Zacharie responds, “How old was she when she got married.”

“16,” Wilhelm answers.

Zacharie looked at Wilhelm with a cocked eyebrow, “She was forced.”

“Yes, by her father.”

“And You met?”

“At and after a ballet, she was performing.”

Zacharie looked at him with a fond smile. “Did you steal her way from the husband she didn’t love to treat her like a queen?" he joked.

He expects Wilhelm to laugh, however, the old vampire sitting across from him has this look of undescribed yearning sorrow, “I didn’t steal her,” Wilhelm mutters, brushing his knuckles against Belladonna’s cheek, “She came with me willing…”

“I didn’t mean anything horrible by it, Wilhelm!”

“You’re fine, Zacharie,” Wilhelm mumbles staring at her longingly.

“It’s worse than I could even imagine, isn’t it… what happened to her.”

Wilhelm nodded, “That man didn’t love her. He treated her like a toy that he wanted to break.” Zacharie could see the hate in his eyes as he spoke of Belladonna’s ex-husband before his eyes softened, “No matter, she is here, he is not, and she is mine.”

“You killed him didn’t you…”

“What was I supposed to do? I’m not going to let him live after he put his hands on her.”

“Jesus,” Zacharie sighs into his drink, “Why are the mortal men so vile.”

“You say that as if you are not a mortal man,” Wilhelm jokes.

“Let me rephrase: humans are odd,” Zacharie remarks, “Even being mortal but not one of them I also don’t understand why they are so horrible to each other. Granted we live amongst supernatural and immortal individuals that have done the most vulgar shit imaginable—”

“Don’t you just wish we could kill them all?” Wilhelm mentions.

“I do quite like not breaking the law,” Zacharie replies before adding, “She seems very happy. Rita said that she was lovely and very kind to the kids. Marie-Louise even said that she feels like family already she wants her to be a part of the wedding… You seem truly happy now too.”

Wilhelm smiles, “I was more than satisfied with being alone for the rest of my existence, and then of course I met her.” He begins, “I wasn’t going to turn her because I hadn’t thought about losing her then she begged me. Watching her have to suffer just to be with me, made me realize how much I don’t want to lose her.”

Zacharie chuckles, “And to think you told me at one point that you didn’t understand love.”

“Don’t remind me,” The vampire groaned.

“I have a feeling that her and Rita will get along more than they already are,” the werewolf coos.

Wilhelm hums in agreement, watching Belladonna stir in his lap, “We’ll talk more in the morning, old friend,” Zacharie mentions, “Get her into a nice comfortable bed.”

“Sleep well,” he adds, as Wilhelm leaves for the guest bedroom with Belladonna in his arms.

Laying Belladonna down in the bed, he hears her whine when he steps back and rounds the side of the bed. “I’m still here, my swan,” he says softly, climbing into the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around her, pulling her close, and kissing her softly, “You’re not sleeping alone, I promise.”

[reikiajakoiranruohoja]

Second Inquisition WOW

I don't even know how to preface this, because this is some massive tonal confusion. I guess the best way to put it is that for all I love Werewolf and Vampire, I am not blind to the horror they are for humans. Though my go-to question for anyone writing monster hunters is why they hunt, I still feel hunters are extremely important to the narrative as a counterpoint to the monsters. So when I read the introduction text for the Second Inquisition book for V5, my jaw hit the floor.

"The theme of the Second Inquisition is determination – aimed at the player coterie. Like a certain killer cyborg from the future, the Coalition can’t be reasoned with, it can’t be bargained with. It doesn't feel pity or remorse or fear and it absolutely will not stop. Ever. Individual Inquisitors or soldiers or cops or nuns can be reasoned with and bargained with. Most feel fear, some feel pity, and even a few feel remorse. All those deviations and human moments make excellent stories, ripples in the flood. But the narrative relentlessly washes over those stories, replacing every flawed or broken foe with two more – ten more — out for revenge or salvation. The Inquisition as a whole – both as a conspiracy and a movement that enflames that conspiracy – will not stop until every Kindred burns. Conveying the impersonal, implacable determination of a gigantic bureaucracy to crush the player characters should not be impossible in the 2020s – but it should be very effective."

Why this made me stare at the screen, is how the Inquisition was introduced in an older book;

"The theme of The Inquisition is the crusader. The Society of Leopold sees itself as humanity’s last stand against the encroaching hordes of the World of Darkness. Inquisitors are the new Crusaders; all the Earth is their Holy Land. But theirs is a lonely struggle, bereft of the support of those whom they would save. The general populace does not know of the struggle, and would most likely think the Inquisitors are mad. Inquisitors are holy knights, alienated from their fellow mortals by their knowledge of what awaits. Some within the Inquisition are zealots, it is true, but it is better to err on the side of caution than to let slip the defences of humanity." The difference is stark, especially as they are talking about the same sort of hunters. The reason I find the newer book's take extremely strange, is due to the fact that the player characters in VtM are undead bloodsucking parasites that manipulate humanity and have magic blood powers that make them much stronger than an average human. Yet the V5 book chooses to introduce the inquisition as horrible people who will never stop hunting poor innocent vampires. It goes even as far as the art.

(Start ID; A mixed media picture with modified photographs. A bald man in a trenchcoat is scowling with his fists clenched. He is holding the severed head of a female vampire from its hair. The expression on the head is of wide-eyed horror. End ID.)

(Start ID; A book cover with the text Inquision as the title, with a crosshair symbol reading 'Year of the Hunter' on the bottom. The cover art is a painted picture of a bearded man in a trenchcoat and torn jeans wielding in one hand a large cross and in another a lit torch. There is a shotgun and spent shells on the tiled floor. Just outside the light of the torch, a horde of vampires with glowing eyes has surrounded the man, some shirking from the light. End ID.)

One treats the hunter as a threat overpowering a vampire. The other treats the hunter as a lone figure surrounded by a mass of vampires. Let me be quite frank, humanity in WoD are the mice that the cats (vampires) hunt. Hunters are the mice that fight back. A vampire in VtM, regardless of edition, has an advantage over a hunter. Vampires use humans as prey, the polite ones pay them for it but they don't HAVE to. In V5 you are given various methods to hunt for your blood, some which are cruel. Painting the people standing up to creatures that actively harm humans as the abusers and the ones in the wrong is extremely tone deaf. Vampires are not some oppressed minority trying to eke out a living, a vampire is creature that needs to drink blood to survive and human blood is the best. In V5's own lore, it is only recently that vampires are even put on the backfoot at all. Before that, humanity were pawns in centuries long grudgematches and at best a quick bite snack at wost fleshcrafted into sacks hung from hooks. Can there be good vampires and bad hunters? Of course, WoD is all about the shades of gray. It is when the basic set up of the setting is turned around like this that I have a problem.

[skyguy675]

Entry 3: 19/10/24 - God I Hate Elves

God, I fucking hate elves.

Sorry. I know that’s a hell of a thing to come out the gates with, but Jesus have they ever earned my eternal disdain, the eternal aspect being pertinent in particular. Due to the famous immortality of elves, they’ll be able to fully appreciate all its intricate nuances.

And, of course, when I say elves, what I am really saying in whispered subtext is Legolas. 

Sorry Gimli. Whilst I have a great reverence and love for you, your dumbass princeling boyfriend deserves a slandering - made no less worthy of it by him then going out with someone so much younger (perhaps he should be called LEO-las). 

I mean he arrested the guy’s Dad and then proceeded to mock his own future boyfriend’s baby pics (bet that made for an interesting couples therapy session on their honeymoon revisiting Fangorn Forest [treebeard was definitely the therapist, making for a slow session]).

All I’m saying is it looks a bit sus. In my book, Legolas belongs in the same camp as Padme and either one of the two boyfriend options in Twilight, maybe more the werewolf one because of that uncomfortable imprinting business.

It’s just the modern consensus. Every time I show somebody new the Lord of the Rings, without fail Legolas is their favourite character (me and my Mum were arguing about this the entire time) and like… I get it. He does cool shit and he looks beautiful (at least among hobbits and humans - though he’s edged out by Aragorn, [phew Daddy!], and is nothing compared to the sexual powerhouse that is Gimli, son of Gloin). 

But he’s as talkative and actually charismatic as a wet rice cake, I’m certain of this. And I’m certain that the writers of those movies knew this too, because they give all the general chatter scenes to Gimli, the better and more inspirational character. I can’t help but think to that one scene in the second film where Aragorn and Legolas reunite after Aragorn has a “little tumble off the cliff” and instead of having a deep and meaningful conversation illustrative of the full capacity of their intricate and powerful friendship, they cut to a longshot and mute the guys, presumably because the writers attempted to think of a conversation sustained by the loquacious wit of our favourite socially maladjusted wood elf before coming to the realisation that one could never exist. 

Being trapped in a lift with Legolas sounds like it’d be worse than hell.

And yeah, he goes through an arc (allegedly) but so does Gimli – the exact same one - and Gimli has the boon of actually also having a personality, so there.

It’s funny, because otherwise I don’t actually mind the elves in Lord of the Rings. In the Hobbit they’re antagonists (book continuity – always the book continuity with the Hobbit), and in Lord of the Rings they’re far removed from the central plot and act more like other worldly beings bestowing gifts and boons Athena style onto our mortal protagonists. They’re like mini-Gandalfs, who incidentally does cool stuff as well like Legolas but I’m more inclined to favour him because he has occasions where he gets his ass beat and has to regenerate Doctor Who style, and he’s just a sweet old man type dude that visits his little friends, throws cool ass parties, smokes weed and fells balrogs. He just has a more developed and wholesome vibe.

So, elves in middle-earth are implemented quite well in my opinion, but outside of that I just generally hate them and people’s obsession with them. A predominantly Aryan race, extremely self-possessed and arrogant, without hesitation or exception believing themselves to be naturally superior to every other filthier, uglier and lesser species. Gees, what’s not to like? But it’s made up for by the fact that they know how to do their hair.

Now, boys and girls, given the history (and to be honest present) of our own world, what tends to happen when you have a meeting between two groups, one of which believes them to be (and, depending on the narrative, actually is) superior to the other? That’s right. A bad thing, mostly for the group that can’t live to a billion and do backflips from the age of three.

I just don’t like people extolling mindless beauty and idolising an idealised fantasy creature that would a hundred percent bully those people in real life if they existed. Best case scenario is they’re the vegans of fantasy land, worse case is they’re the Nazis.  At least vampires just eat you, not try and give you unwanted life advice. 

And they gave us goths, to which I say: phew Mummy!

Tangent over:

Ruairi

[hyperactivewhore]

I despise both Renesmee Cullen's and Hope Mikaelson's existences. Both characters are plot holes and shouldn't exist.

Renesmee Carlie Cullen is the daughter of Bella Swan and Edward Cullen. She's half-human and half-vampire, and in Twilight, it was explained that only male vampires can have children with female humans. But that doesn't make any sense because vampires in Twilight don't have any blood in their bodies. Then, Stephanie Meyer explained that the venom that is in their bodies works similarly to the bodily fluids that are in humans. But if that was the case, then Bella shouldn't have gotten pregnant. She should have become a vampire after having sex with Edward. Renesmee is called 'half mortal and half immortal' by Aro, but how can a person be half mortal and half immortal? She's either mortal or immortal. She can't be both. Does she age, or does she not? Can she live forever, or does she have the lifespan of a human?

Now, onto Hope.

Hope Andrea Mikaelson is the daughter of Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall-Kenner. She's a werewolf, vampire, witch tribrid. In the pilot episode of The Originals, it was explained that since Klaus was born a werewolf and became a vampire because of magic and not by drinking the blood of another vampire and dying with that vampire's blood in his system, he was able to conceive. Vampires in The Vampire Diaries are infertile and can not have children, and while Klaus is the world's first werewolf-vampire hybrid, he's still part vampire. He shouldn't have been able to have a child, which was confirmed in Legacies. The only reason Hope exists is because Malivore. So, if Malivore never existed, Hope would have never existed. She wasn't born because her father was created differently from traditional vampires, but because it is her destiny to defeat a mud monster.

Both characters are great (more so Hope because she was given her own show, and I grew to like her over Legacies' 4 season run. Renesmee was kinda there. Her CGI in the movies creeped me out, and she absolutely did nothing in the book), but their existence goes against the canons of their respective movies/books and show.

It's funny because both are created as plot devices to Bella and Klaus and they're meant to be the magical powerful baby of their universe, but their existence alone just makes it look ridiculous by breaking every single canon law.

As you said, Renaissance came out of nowhere. She was soo incredibly intelligent from the very first moment her parents made her, but apparently not smart enough to control her own strength seeing she broke several Bella's bones (like honestly, what the hell) and this demon spawn craved human blood for absolutely no logical reason other than Edward being a vampire. Ratatouille also could not be seen in the ultrasound or any other thing: she had a impenetrable amniotic sac because yes, exactly, her daddy is a vampire!

Honestly, I kinda feel bad for Ravioli. I've never finished reading Breaking Dawn (and I won't), it was such a corny book and I could only bring myself to the third part, where Bella spends time with baby Rasputin but I've heard interesting things to how the Cullen rise this sim. Apparently, Bella and Edward couldn't care less about their daughter, because as always they were more obssesed with each other and Rosalie did all the parenting, because the love birds couldn't be distracted with their CGI spawn. If I'm correct, Edward even called Bella more beautiful than Rim Job right in her face and instead of being mad, because their kid was right there, Isabella was just like "gosh edward, ily sm 😘😜😍"

Parents of the year.

Stephenie Meyer didn't care about Bella and Edward being parents: she just wanted the aesthetic that came with it, and she pulled the reasons of the human-vampire pregnancy out of her ass.

Actually, when I was in my twilight phase, I read a fanfic where Bella got pregnant, and the reason was a little more "coherent" than what Meyer gave: Having died so young, Edward's body "froze" his sperm and because he had remained a virgin for over a hundred years (lmao), he was able to get Bella, the first and only woman he slept with, pregnant. It's still shitty, and bad, but if they wanted them so badly to have a kid this was a better reason.

I just can't take Twilight books seriously. Apparently, there are no black vampires for a barely explained reason that is clearly racist (if I remember, the venom that vampires inject you during death just... removes your skin color), the mistreatment to the werewolves is just terrible, and there's Ratatunga too.

Now, moving to Hope Andrea Mikaelson, the white witch that is hated and loved in equal measures by the fandom. Oh my, this is gonna be interesting.

I have my moments with Hope, to be honest. Sometimes I completely adore her, and sometimes I just can't stand her. Her existence was completely pulled out of Pl*c's ass, who wanted to have her own version of Renameme so badly. Klaus shouldn't have even been able to procreate in the first place, because he was killed before Esther binded his werewolf side. Though vampires in tvd are more alive than dead, but that's a whole different thing. But clearly my point still remains.

I like Hope Mikaelson a lot more than Ragnarok Cullen, Summer Fontana/Danielle Russell and Mackenzie Foy are all really amazing and beautiful actresses who did great with the role they were given, but their characters completely broke canon. I like the tribrid more though because at least, she wasn't a fucking sim that aged five years in a week unlike Nestlé. The only way I could ever like Radioactive is by having her completely loathe her parents and family, especially because she was born in 2006 aka she's part of Gen Z.

Both characters shouldn't even exist in the first place, and Hope's existences is as much of a plothole as Riptide's. Renesmee gets more hate simply because of how she was in the womb and also because of how fast she grew, but they're both plotholes and shouldn't have been created no matter their popularity.

[werebutch]

WSBH chara q’s: (you don’t have to answer all the numbers, just whatever you want to 𖢘)

16/35/51 for Scotch

1/6/55 for Atlas

I LOVE YOU

16. What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

okay i truly think scotch argues with seraph in his head all the time. ALL the time. scotch largely ignores them, and vice versa, because he dislikes them and they know it. seraph is very conflict avoidant lol, and as long as hes not a "threat" they dont care to talk to him about their problems. he probably argues with atlas and jacob (his older brother) too, atlas about more stupid small stuff, and jacob about childhood and life stuff :p

im trying to think of more general groups he would argue with but i cant come up with anything BAHAH. hes not exactly conflict avoidant in the annoying libra way that seraph is, he more just ignores conflict for his friends’ (mostly atlas’) sake. idk if that makes sense LOL

35. What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

hmmm.. smallest? i mean scotch strings eloise along for most of the time pre timeskip. its not a main focus but its definitely important in order to understand scotch as a whole. she and scotch go out for a while, and mid way through that he realizes hes GAY gay. lol. and obviously lying to her about that is pretty questionable after a while. especially since he and atlas have been 👉👌 like the whole time. but she kind of knows. well

something a little bigger would be him encouraging or otherwise turning a blind eye to all the weird stuff atlas is up to. he doesn't know what it's like to be a werewolf, he can't say anything, right? lol.... murder is okay if its a talking dog doing it. scotch enabler supreme. actually when seraph is introduced, he and atlas have a 'joke' (kind of starts being real) about luring seraph somewhere to kill them. obviously doesnt happen and gets abandoned. but i think its important to know about their dynamic LOL

51. What’s a phrase they say a lot?

this guy is kind of goofy. i cant think of phrases rn but he has a specific way of speaking.. you could watch pretty much any old pop punk band interview and kind of get the idea. HAHAH

1. What’s the lie your character says most often?

atlas is a big fan of saying 'its fine' for all situations ever. family in mortal danger? its fine. completely splitting? its fine. arthritis excruciating? its fine. hes one of those people that dont like to deal with the fawning of others unless hes feeling real special. Ends up putting people in more danger a lot of the time. i think eloise is the only fan of communication in this friend group to be honest. i should have made her the main character

he tends to make promises he cant keep as well, but thats more general..

6. What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

i have NO idea. i feel like atlas would be a music snob, so maybe his favorite 'super underground' bands. otherwise he'd probably never recommend raw human meat to another human (no matter how much scotch asks -__-).. (he would chicken out anyway)

55. What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

um. so atlas hates working out. he especially hates running, you know, the thing that wolves are known for doing a lot of? unfortunately the lycanthropy came with a side effect of pretty bad arthritis, so that doesnt exactly encourage him. he DOES exercise, a lot since hes pretty much required for his ermm "side job", but he hates it 😸 besides the arthritis it’s mostly because I think it’s silly that he hates it. yay

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4/5

Book Blurb: This standalone adventure set in the world of the New York Times bestselling Jackaby series brims with humor, heart, and—of course—a hefty dose of supernatural mayhem. Abigail Rook never intended to be the mortal bridge between the human and supernatural world. But now, the power of the Sight--and all the chaos that comes with seeing the essential truth of everything, every human, fairy, werewolf, enchanted slip of paper, and municipal building, at all times--is hers alone. With this overwhelming new gift, she should be able to solve crimes and help New Fiddleham, New England find calm in its supernatural chaos. 

The only problem? She has no idea what she’s doing. And New Fiddleham isn't waiting for Abigail to be ready. Local witches and other magical beings are going missing, as tensions between human and supernatural residents curdle into a hatred that could tear the city apart. Abigail's fiance, Charlie, works alongside her to unravel the magical disappearances, but as a shapeshifter, he's under threat as well. Then Abigail's parents appear, ready to take her back to England and marry her off to someone she's never met. Abigail has no choice but to follow her Sight, her instincts, and any clues she can find to track a culprit who is trying destroy everything she holds dear.

Review:

Return to the wonderful world of the Jackaby series but with this new standalone adventure featuring Abigail Rook as she gets accustomed to her new abilities as a seer while also juggling her parents coming to town, trying to solve cases, and figuring out how to control her new powers. The book picks up where the original series ends with Jackaby without his seer powers and Abigail with them instead. They're both still working as consultants to the police department and trying to solve paranormal cases, but this time its Jackaby helping Abigail getting use to her new powers. Abigail is also dealing with the new case she is given that include local witches and other paranormal individuals disappearing and the tensions between the humans and the supernaturals rising... it could lead the city to tear itself apart. It doesn't help that her parents decide to drop in on her without no word of warning and now she also has to find a way to break the news to them about her fiance Charlie and the fact that she is working as a private investigator with powers now. Abigail will have to find a way to trust her instincts, her wits, and find as many clues to solve the case before it's too late! I had fun diving back into this world and seeing where the characters are now. i loved the original books and this was a really fun standalone and I honestly wouldn't mind returning for another book. Abigail and Jackaby are as chaotic as ever, Charlie is a sweet fiance, and the magic of this world was really fun! Definitely pick this one up if you enjoy paranormal investigative books!

*Thanks Netgalley and Algonquin Young Readers for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[crownofconvergencerp]

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘

safely tucked away in a chest under the bed, carel saeger’s sword was not meant to ever see the light of day again. And yet, from the age of 3, he had been taught how to kill every creature there was in withermore, sentient or not. the investigation on the murder of his wife by vampires has taken him to destarin where he is prepared to spill blood no matter the consequences.

TW: Death, Murder.

Maybe it had been illness. Maybe her heart was not made for this kind of world. Whatever it had been, it took Carel’s mother before he could remember her face or the sound of her voice. His father had been out of the picture before that, and he was raised by his grandparents from the age of three. The Saeger household would be his schoolhouse, his church and his home, which wouldn’t have been so bad had the Saeger family name not been a synonym of death to any creature that could threaten mankind, but more specifically to those who should have stayed dead: draugrs and vampires, zombies and revenants.

By the time he was 10, Carel had become familiar with all the sorts of monsters that went bump in the night. He knew what required arrows, bolts, stakes or blades, when to resort to wood or metal. More importantly, he had become himself a weapon.

Carel started working contracts by the time he was 12. In doing so, he provided for his family, and solidified the Saeger’s reputation in Withermore. Many were those who asked the hunters for help when their crops or their cattle were ravaged by beasts too, but most of the money came from bounties.

Though hunting brutalized the body and the soul, though he nearly lost his life a dozen times before he had even reached the age of eighteen, Carel kept going because it was his duty to protect less fortunate humans from the horrors out there. Hunting eventually hurried both his grand parents’ meeting with death, still he would go out, hunt, receive his paycheck, and go home.

And then came along Hilde.

He met her while she attempted to rescue a Tatzelwurm he had finally managed to trap. Half cat – half snake with a thing for cow milk. The creature had by itself deprived a whole town of its milk supply. Hilde would not let him kill the beast, and she proposed a deal: if she managed to tame the animal, he would have to let it be. He gave her a week; she insisted it be a fortnight. It became a fortnight. And every day, he’d come check on her, to see if she was still alive. And every day, he stayed a while longer with the young woman. The fortnight passed, and he would keep visiting her. They were wed the very same year; once again with a concession: no more hunting.

It was a promise he had made to his wife, who wished her husband to live to see their future children grow up, and the woman he loved grow old. The perspective of starting a family brought him comfort. But, one winter evening as he fed the chicken and brought back some logs for the fireplace, a group of vampires attacked the house. By the time he managed to reach for the nearest weapon, Hilde had left the world of the living.

As he drove a stake through her heart, the heartbroken young man swore he would find those who had done such a thing to his beloved. He travelled through Withermore searching for the monsters that had taken her away, interrogating any vampire that crossed his path, Carel’s investigation has led him to Destarin.

WHAT ARE YOU...?

species: hunter. weaknesses: as a hunter, he burns more energy and will need to sleep for 9 to 10 hours every day, mortality, susceptible to vampire bite and werewolf bite. strengths: night vision and enhanced agility, physically stronger than a regular human, his injuries heal faster than the norm unless caused by magic. physical description: the hunter is often regarded as an anomaly wherever he goes due to standing so tall, however, aside from his physique shaped by hunter training and woodworking, carel thinks of himself as a rather plain man. additional info: as it is the tradition in his parts of withermore, carel will often be seen wearing a kilt, though he sometimes adopts the ways of destarin. generally speaking, you won’t catch him without his sword and at least a handful of knives on his person.

carel saeger is played by ivy and their fc is jacob elordi.

[deadcityhq]

**CHARACTER NAME:** dream, oneiros, kai’ckul… most have different names for him. most commonly dream in this current age, or morpheus. 

**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** 

**CHARACTER AGE/DOB (if relevant/they’re not old af):** so very old i feel like i should keep this blank lmao. when the first creature capable of dreaming was born, he winked into existence.

**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** he/him but tbfh he’d answer to just about any of em | agender | yes. the answer is yes.

**CHARACTER FANDOM (if relevant):** the sandman - dc comics

**OC OR CANON:** canon

**CHARACTER TYPE (for example: werewolf, shadowhunter, warlock, demon etc):** one of the endless.

**HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN IN NEW YORK/WHY ARE THEY THERE ETC:** freed from burgess’ prison, the concepts of ‘distance’ and ‘space’ mean much less to him. he’s in new york as often as he requires. perhaps he’s been there. more often than not in these recent days. who could say. certainly not dream. 

**IMPORTANT CHARACTER INFORMATION TO NOTE AND SHARE (this could be important headcanons for initial plotting, mini bios etc, supporting docs):**

this mostly-immortal personified concept of a being is getting the bullet point treatment because otherwise we’d be here all fucking day and no one wants that. 

dream and the rest of his siblings were begotten into existence the moment that the first being capable of dreaming, well. dreamed. 

his realm, the dreaming, has grown over the millennia and changed shape just as much as he has. creatures created by the minds of humankind, as well as himself, populate the dreaming, plus other beings who became part of his dominion through other means. like eve (she mostly just minds her business it’s fine) or cain and abel (they do *not* mind their business cain re-kills his brother on the daily but it’s fine, dream gave them shit to do). 

dream is a being of many faces and facets; depending on your culture, community or even planet you might see a different face when you look upon him, or know him as a different name. 

things aren’t always set in stone for the endless in spite of their long non-lives. some of the endless siblings have died traumatically and become a new aspect of themselves, or have simply disappeared and removed themselves from the family equation. it’s been a while since either of those things have happened, but they continue to cast a long shadow when the siblings gather together. 

dream had historically been farther removed from mortal lives than some of his siblings, due to some… tragically ending experiences when his sibling desire got involved in his affairs, and it inadvertently caused the downfall of his mortal love’s kingdom. he… knows he was a shithead about how it all went down, but does he still act like a shithead about it? yes

of course, until his sister inadvertently challenged him to know humanity a little better. this was when he first met hob gadling, made immortal by his sister’s blessing. dream became… well *he* would let the furies eat him before admitting it but he became *fascinated* by the unrelenting zeal hob had for the simple act of continuing to be alive. dream was fascinated by his particular bright humanity. and maybe, he’d never really had a friend before. it all brought him closer to the creatures whose dreaming hours he stewarded. 

WELL and then roderick burgess happened. dream became imprisoned in this aleister crowley wannabe’s basement for decades upon decades, while the world stuttered in minute but *bad* ways in his absence. people never waking up, people never being able to fall asleep… as well as nightmares escaping from the dreaming. 

EVENTUALLY dream got the hell outta there and went on his little mission to get his accessories back, all of that domino’d into hunting down the rogue nightmares, finding the vortex that his incredibly vexing sibling desire made, etcetera… with the corinthian shrunken down to a skull in his pocket, dream decided he needed to let that little nightmare and himself ruminate for a while before remaking that particular creature, and let the dreaming breathe after the unrest. 

sure hob and himself only meet once every century, but that doesn’t mean dream doesn’t keep up. especially now, with having missed their last appointment. of course, dream found him anyway and they managed a belated meeting, but it feels… pertinent somehow, to keep an eye or three on him. after all, who wouldn’t be a little alarmed to peek in on your human and find them on a different continent entirely? humans had to pack all of their belongings and find a means of transportation to complete a move like that! 

dream checks in a little more frequently now; even if he’s not always in the shape of ‘looks mostly human’. not to mention it’s been a few hundred years since he came to this city himself, there’s more than a few pockets of his dominion here it would behoove him to monitor as well. 

**THREE AESTHETICS THAT REMIND YOU OF YOUR CHARACTER:** the just-barely-there smell of ozone after a lightning strike, the sudden realization that you’re having a nightmare, a deep pool of dark water reflecting a starry night sky. 

OOC INFORMATION: 

**MUN NAME/ALIAS:** jesse

**MUN AGE:** 30

**MUN TRIGGERS:**  n/a 

[russianspy24]

Fanart for my fic on AO3

I'm a sucker for both Elijah and Klaus. If you like original characters, have a read! Made in Midjourney and photoshop. Summary:

For a thousand years, Elijah Mikaelson has upheld his family’s legacy—bound by honor, duty, and an unshakable resolve. But when a prophecy whispers of a way out, he is drawn to Chicago, a city of power and reinvention, where fate takes the shape of a woman who should mean nothing… and yet changes everything.

An impossible discovery offers the Mikaelsons a choice—true freedom, true mortality. But what they see as salvation, others see as a threat. Because if they turn human, so do their sirelines. The vampires they created may not surrender their power. Witches and werewolves see a chance to erase their kind forever. And if the Mikaelsons take this path, will the supernatural world let them? But amid the coming storm, new possibilities arise.

The witch with the power to unmake them challenges everything Elijah believes. Klaus, embracing his werewolf side, is drawn to a woman who refuses to fear him. And Rebekah may finally have a life with the man who never stopped loving her. Because this time, the end of the Originals may change everything.