#this took some detailed research | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

memento-morianon · 1 month ago

Text

memento mori book 1, chapter 10(ish) draft

cw: ritual self harm, vague exploration of internal traumatic feelings, and semi graphic animal death.

rough draft masterpost

Morianon clenched his toes around the bar under his seat and held Sitla tighter as the sheep-drawn cart jostled through a mud pit in the road. He sighed and looked longingly up at the blue sky and the clouds floating through it.

“Almost there,” Evarin assured him. He rested his chin on Sitla’s warm head and tried to ignore the way the cart shifted and shook beneath him, churning his stomach. In his annoyance, he glared ahead at the sheep pulling the cart. They were a gnomish breed; short brown fur, curly horns, broad backs. On the mountain slopes, they were naturally agile. But even they couldn’t keep a cart from shaking on an old dirt road worn down by heavy rain.

Further and further from town, the forest grew more wild. Overgrown underbrush creeped into the road and up the roots of ancient trees. Where the town was surrounded by cultivated trails of food and fiber plants, the hunting trails of the wild forest were only maintained by the footsteps of hunters and their prey. In the branches overhead, among the new spring leaves, flocks of takran peeered down at the cart rolling past. They called out curiously, some leaving their perches to swoop over the cart and get a closer look at their visitors.

The cart driver turned off at the entrance of a smaller road, bringing the sheep to a halt in the shadow of a massive oak. Morianon let go of Sitla, letting her drop to the floor of the cart and shake herself off while he carefully pried himself from his seat. Evarin guided him to the steps at the back of the cart and down onto the road. He took deep breaths while she walked back to the cart driver to pay him for his time. (do not ask me what the currency is called or how much of it is owed for a cart ride. I haven’t worked that out yet)

“Thank you (cousin*). I’ll be back in an hour or less to return to town,” she said. He nodded.

“We’ll be waiting.”

*[this will be replaced with a gnomish word later. “Cousin” here is a general social term, like “neighbor”]

Morianon and Evarin headed down the smaller road, Sitla at their heels, until they reached the hunting cabin K’arik had been staying at. It was small, for an orcish structure. Moss and lichens covered the walls and roof, aside from the glass skylight. A lazy drift of smoke rose from the chimney hole up into the forest canopy, where the flocks of takran waited patiently for a chance at fresh meat.

Morianon felt refreshed by the time they reached the cabin. His stomach settled and the fatigue of riding in the cart faded away in the cool forest air. He shook out his feathers, scattering a few. The itch of new growth hadn’t reached its peak yet, but he could feel the pin feathers making their way through his skin.

“Careful, or you won’t have any feathers left to toss around at the New Year’s festival,” Evarin teased, reaching out to run a hand over the shaggy patches on his wing.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that, I haven’t even lost any flight feathers yet,” Morianon replied with a laugh, “there will be plenty left of me to go around.” He walked ahead to the cabin, finding the door open a crack and the scent of incense wafting out. Inside, K’arik was sitting on the floor in the patch of sunlight coming down from the glass in the roof. His eyes were closed in meditation, and he held He-esh’s tusks gently against his chest.

Morianon and Evarin approached him slowly, crouching near the wall to wait. Morianon put a hand on Sitla’s back to make her lay down. The cabin was sparsely furnished, with very few places to sit. In one corner, there was a simple bed with a fur blanket. Boxes and racks of gear for hunting and camping framed the center of the cabin; most of it belonged to K’arik’s family, but other orcs from their clan used the place too, and He-esh had invited the stroi community to consider it theirs as well. Orcish crossbows and bolts, ropes of different sizes, and stroi traps for thornbeasts were stored here all year round, on the condition that every hunter kept the place clean and organized for whoever came in next.

K’arik let out a long breath and opened his eyes, looking at Morianon and Evarin without a hint of surprise on his face. He rested He-esh’s tusks on his lap and greeted them.

“Thank you,” he signed, “it’s good to have you with me.” His brow was tense, but he gave them a happy snout wiggle.

“I’m honored you asked me to be here,” Morianon replied, standing so K’arik could read his hands better. “I always enjoy hunting with you. But why is it part of the rituals for you to become a [priest]?”

“If it’s anything like gnomish tradition,” Evarin interjected, “bringing fresh meat to your elders to gain their approval is a very old custom.”

“That’s correct,” K’arik nodded, “when we were nomads, our elders remained in sheltered communities. It’s only polite to bring them a meal before you ask any favors.” He snorted softly in amusement. “But for the rituals, it serves another purpose. Evarin, you understand, I think. You know how to feel the energy of other living things, as a singer. My role involves sacrificial magic, so I must know the feeling of death as well as life.” His expression became serious and his hands tensed as he signed. Evarin nodded and stepped forward to touch his elbow.

“I do understand,” she replied. K’arik relaxed and smiled softly down at her.

“Would you sing for me as I complete my preparations?”

“That’s why I came.” She turned back to Morianon for a moment. “Mori, you should meditate too. I know you’ve been neglecting your soul exercises.” She gave him a pointed look and he ducked his head. His heart sank and the overlapping thoughts in his mind gnawed into his anxiety. Sitla shoved her nose against his knee.

“I’ll try,” he conceded. Evarin nodded and returned her attention to K’arik. As the two of them briefly discussed the song K’arik would need, Morianon sat down and closed his eyes, settling in his own uncertain mind. He could feel the presence of his other selves, constantly bringing new thoughts and feelings into their shared space, no matter how it might inconvenience him. He shook his feathers and focused on calming breaths, ignoring and shoving everything back as he always did. Furrowing his brow, he tried to feel K’arik and Evarin’s souls through the living energy around them. They were there, faintly, like the warmth of dying embers. But the shadows in the depths of his mind crept forward, their inescapable claws still buried in his soul. Dark flashes of terror entered his mind, threatening to drag him deeper. A warm wet touch on his cheek snapped him back to the surface and he blinked in the soft sunlight. Sitla was pushing herself into his lap, licking his face, keeping him anchored to reality.

He tucked his wings around himself and fluffed his feathers, silently chastising himself for entering the depths so quickly. He sighed and pretended he was still meditating, but he kept one eye open and watched K’arik and Evarin instead. Evarin pulled a log from the wood pile by the hearth and stood on it behind K’arik. He handed her his grandfather’s tusks and she carefully tied them into his hair, tucked around a simple hunter’s topknot. He unsheathed a bone knife and waited for her to lay her hands on his head.

She filled the cabin with her voice. It rivaled the warmth of the fire and the brightness of the dusty sunlight above her. Low guttural grunts and high keening tones mingled with ancient words, primal and ethereal. Though Morianon only understood a few words of her ancestral tongue, and though her hands were not on his head, he could still feel the power radiating from her soul, touching his own, soothing his anxious mind. His eyes grew soft as he watched her sing, admiring the focused furrow of her brow and the way the sunlight touched her brown skin.

So enraptured, he forgot K’arik was performing his own ritual. His eyes darted to the sudden motion of the bone knife, and then squeezed shut as the sharp tip pierced the back of K’arik’s arm. Morianon held Sitla tighter, slowly counted to three, and opened his eyes again. K’arik was uncannily still, his eyelids trembling as he entered a deeper meditative state than Morianon could ever dare to approach. Evarin’s unwavering voice carried on as her friend connected with the well of magic in his own soul. He was only anchored to the external world by the touch of her hands, the pain of the knife, and the smell of incense in the air. Morianon watched nervously, even knowing how well K’arik had trained and practiced and prepared himself to endure such rituals, and that this one was tame compared to what he would have to endure in the coming days.

K’arik shivered and took a deep, gasping breath, as if he was emerging from a pool of cold water. Evarin sang more earnestly, shoulders tense, fingers digging into K’arik’s hair. She seemed to pull him upward; his face lifted and his eyes rolled open. Morianon leaned forward, ready to reach out if K’arik needed another anchor. But his friend came back to reality with a heaving sigh and gently lifted the knife from the wound in his arm. Evarin relaxed and her song shifted, staunching the trickle of blood and pulling K’arik’s skin back together until the injury was little more than a shallow nick. With her song complete, Evarin coughed dryly and slumped onto K’arik’s shoulder like a tired cat. He reached up and gently squeezed her hand.

“Are you alright?” Morianon asked, releasing Sitla from his arms so he could sign. K’arik nodded, blinking uncomfortably.

“Always takes a few minutes to get used to enhanced senses,” he replied, scrunching his snout. Evarin hummed and stretched, hopping off her makeshift stool to crouch beside Morianon.

“Take all the time you need,” she signed, “I should get back to town. Mom needs me today.”

“Won’t you rest first?” Morianon put a wing around her shoulders. She shook her head.

“The cart ride is rest enough.” She leaned in and rubbed her nose on his, ever so slightly expanding the bare spot on the end of his prosthetic where the wood peeked through the skin-tone paint. “Good luck to both of you, my fine hunters,” she continued, “I expect I won’t see you again until tomorrow.”

“Thank you for helping me prepare,” K’arik replied, bowing his head.

“Any time.” Evarin stood and left the cabin, giving them both one last wave goodbye before she closed the door. Morianon got up, flexing his feet and shaking out the tingling numbness that had begun to set in. Sitla paced around him, poking his knees with her snout.

“I’m fine now,” he muttered, “I’m fine.” The dog huffed but sat still. K’arik remained where he was for a few moments longer, breathing in slow rhythmic patterns. He turned his bone knife over, ponderously twirling it between his hands. Its shape was simple; Morianon had studied similar knives before, much older ones. Their form had not changed much over the course of generations. Narrow, slightly curved, short leather-wrapped handle. Most were carved from a scapula or pelvis, some were made from ribs. He didn’t know the precise origin of K’arik’s knife, but he suspected it was a scapula knife, and the orcish symbols carved into the blade were likely a representation of the ancestor the bone had been taken from.

K’arik grunted and got to his feet, taking his knife to the sink in the corner. As he washed the small bit of blood from its tip, Morianon bounced on his heels and looked around the cabin. Most of the hunting gear was orc-sized, of course. K’arik had already set out his things; a large heavy looking crossbow and a quiver of bolts to match, each of them nearly the length of Morianon’s whole arm. He turned to look at other things, like the tangling traps built for thornbeasts, but K’arik was already done at the sink and waved to catch his attention.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I’m ready. Are you?” Morianon asked in return. K’arik nodded, though his ears twitched in agitation.

“Do you know the worst thing about enhanced senses? It affects my ears too.” He bared his teeth slightly and huffed. “I usually only hear a few deep sounds, faintly. I feel the vibration of my own voice. But now it’s all a little sharper and I find it disorienting.”

“Why did you enhance your senses if you hate it so much?” Morianon laughed but his brow furrowed sympathetically.

“Because it also enhances my spiritual senses,” K’arik explained, “so I need it to do this hunt correctly, as part of the rituals. Can’t pick and choose which senses get a boost, you know? The magic is too unstable if you try to get too specific.”

“I suppose.” Morianon shrugged. “Will you be alright out there?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Let’s go then. Lead the way.” He gestured to the door, standing aside so K’arik could gear up.

“Could you smother the fire?” K’arik pointed to a bucket of dirt near the hearth. Morianon hurried to it, first using a long iron poker to scatter the dying fire and then scooping dirt from the bucket to dump it over the embers. He glanced at the incense sitting on the stones around the hearth, still faintly smoking, and decided to stick it in the dirt bucket before he returned to K’arik’s side. His friend finished buckling the quiver to his lower back and strapping the crossbow between the belt around his waist and a holster on his thigh. He glanced down at Morianon and grunted, satisfied. They walked out together, Sitla at their heels. Morianon barely waited for an invitational nod before he climbed up to K’arik’s shoulder.

All around them, the forest was alive. Leaves rustling in the spring breeze, takran crowing in the canopy. K’arik strolled along the hunting trail with purpose, having already spent several days observing and tracking his prey in preparation for the hunt. Morianon peered down to watch Sitla meander through the underbrush. She stayed close, keeping her head and tail low.

A takran landed on a branch near K’arik’s eye line, ruffling its wings and making a questioning noise. K’arik paused and Morianon mimicked the takran hunting call; specifically the one they used with orcs. It was a lower croaking sound, repeated three times, followed by a sharper noise like a short squeal. The takran turned its head curiously, then echoed the call. Every other takran nearby followed suit, and soon the forest was filled with the sound of flapping wings as the flock scattered. K’arik raised his hands to communicate with Morianon.

“Got our little scouts on the trail?”

“I’ll let you know if I hear their guiding calls,” Morianon replied. K’arik chuckled and continued walking, heading deeper and deeper into the forest. The trails branched out and crossed each other, some of them wide and well used, others little more than a dent in the underbrush. K’arik crouched occasionally, sniffing the ground and observing footprints or damaged plants. Morianon clung to his shoulder, shifting to retain his balance each time his friend stopped to check for tracks. He kept his eyes and ears open for the takran, but he knew it would be some time before they returned. He had eaten a large meal before traveling to the cabin, but as the slow journey through the forest went on, his stomach reminded him of its presence, grumbling quietly. He tapped K’arik’s neck.

“Snacks?” he signed once he had his friend’s attention. K’arik grunted and pulled a bag off his belt, handing it up. It was filled with packets of spiced jerky, dried fruit, and nuts. Morianon eagerly found the fish jerky and scarfed down a few pieces before he offered a slice of elk jerky to K’arik, who bit it right out of his hand. They ate and walked for a while longer, Morianon feeding K’arik, K’arik holding up his large metal water bottle so Morianon could drink, until the sound of a takran’s call alerted Morianon. He listened to determine where the birds were, then directed K’arik towards them, heading east.

No longer wandering and tracking alone, both of them tensed and K’arik hurried his pace, Sitla following suit. Morianon tied the snack bag to his own belt and took off from K’arik’s shoulder to take the extra weight off him and lead him more efficiently. He jumped from branch to branch, following the sound of the takran’s call and the glimpses of their black feathers through the dense foliage. At last the hunt was underway, and the excitement made his heart race. Behind him, K’arik was keeping low, hiding his large figure to the best of his ability.

He dropped to his knees suddenly and waved for Morianon to stop and stay quiet. Morianon hunkered down where he had landed, folding his wings over himself and peering down to see what K’arik had spotted. No creature was visible in the underbrush, though dozens of takran were arriving and perching in the trees, quieting their calls.

K’arik seemed to be sniffing the air, crawling slowly forward as he searched for his prey. He closed his eyes and sat still, tilting his head. Running his hands gently over the ground, he turned and focused his sights northward. Sitla paced at the base of Morianon’s tree, staring up impatiently.

In spite of the breeze, the air felt still around Morianon’s perch. He watched and waited, and strained to feel what K’arik had felt. All the living energy around him, flowing through every creature’s soul. He reached into it and felt the shadows again, inescapable. He flinched away and shook it off, retreating. No soul besides his own stood out to his senses, all of them too distant.

K’arik remained still for just a moment longer, then looked up and gestured for Morianon to follow him before he moved forward along a narrow trail. Having none of an owl’s stealth, Morianon kept to the branches as much as he could, walking cautiously between the trees. He followed K’arik and kept a careful eye on Sitla as she stalked behind in the orc’s shadow. Positioned as he was, Morianon saw the deer before K’arik did. It calmly nibbled the young leaves off a sapling, large ears swiveling around to listen for danger. Morianon couldn’t tell if it was a doe or a buck, as it was too early in the year for antlers. K’arik crouched in the underbrush, keeping his distance as he slowly lifted his crossbow and set a bolt in place.

The deer heard the click and stared in K’arik’s direction. For a breathless moment, both the orc and the deer were still as statues. The deer sniffed. Flicked its tail. Then returned to its meal. Morianon sighed in relief on K’arik’s behalf. His friend repositioned the crossbow, rose up on his knees when the deer bent down to graze on the ground cover, and pulled the trigger.

Faster than Morianon could blink, the deer startled and leaped away from the sudden flash of movement as the bolt flew. It struck the deer’s side with a heavy thud and sunk deep into its ribs, but the creature still managed to run just out of sight, scattering blood on the underbrush. Sitla barked and ran after it. Every takran waiting in the trees cried out with enthusiastic caws, all of them descending at once like a black river leading the way to the fallen deer. Morianon dropped from his perch and joined K’arik in the chase.

Luckily they didn’t need to go very far. The blood trail and the noisy flock of takran lead them through the trees, maybe only the distance of a stroll across the orc village, from the entrace to the community hall. The deer had collapsed in a tangle of bushes, as if it had tried to jump over them and tripped. It was still clinging to life, struggling weakly. A few takran were already standing on it, poking the blood on its fur. Sitla circled around it and wagged her tail. Morianon stood aside and snapped his fingers to bring Sitla to his feet, making her sit politely.

K’arik knelt by the deer’s neck, unsheathing his bone knife. He laid a hand on the suffering creature’s head and swiftly slit its throat, granting it a more merciful death. Vibrant red spilled and stained the spring green leaves, soaking into the ground below. K’arik shivered and bowed his head as the deer went still beneath his touch. He let out a long sigh, like a final breath, and stood.

“It’s done,” he signed. Morianon nodded. He remained silent, even surrounded by the impatient takran wildly calling for their share of the kill, ignorant and uncaring of the sacred moment. They knew what death was; death was food. Fresh meat in their bellies.

“Do you need my help preparing it for the journey back?” Morianon asked. K’arik nodded.

“It won’t take long, but it will be easier if I can tie it to a tree first.” He lifted the deer— now more clearly a buck— by its back legs, and pulled a coil of rope from his belt, tossing it to Morianon. While K’arik held the deer in place against the nearest tree with study low branches, Morianon climbed up with the rope and wrapped it around the deer’s ankles, tying it to the tree until he was sure it wouldn’t just slip right back down. K’arik handed him the bone knife with a cloth, setting his water bottle on the ground nearby. He carefully removed the crossbow bolt from the carcass, then unsheathed his proper hunting knife; a steel blade with a small hook at the tip; so he could gut the deer before carrying it back to the cabin. The takran were owed their share, after all.

Morianon directed Sitla to stay by the tree and be good, then he took the water bottle and knife a little ways away before he began the cleaning process. He had to lift the bottle with both hands to pour it, and he didn’t want to dip the cloth into the cup-shaped cap after getting blood on it, so he found a gnarled tree root with a deep pit and filled that with water first. The porous texture of bone was minimized from the polish on the blade, but its natural creamy white color still bore the faint stains of past use, turning it a pale brownish red shade around the tip. He weighed it in his hand a moment, tilting it to feel the balance. Distinctly, he felt the roll of a shoulder, arms lifting high in a tired stretch. His guess had been correct; it was a scapula knife.

He wiped away the fresh blood and stared at the symbols near the base of the blade. He pondered them, rolling the wet cloth over the sharp tip while his eyes lingered on the etched lines. The symbol for takran stood out first, diamond shaped with curved wings below. Another family [priest] then, like He-esh and K’arik. The other symbol intertwined with it wasn’t as familiar to him. Or perhaps the overlap just made it harder to interpret. He looked closer. A small triangle inside the takran’s diamond, curved lines framing the combined symbol. An eye, perhaps? Turning the knife over to continue cleaning it, he found a second symbol near the base on the other side. It was more intricate, but he had seen the same imagery on other sacred orcish objects before, modern and ancient. It was a symbol for sacrificial magic; the abstract combination of a bone and a knife, surrounded by radiating curved lines and little drop-shaped streaks below. It was too small to really show every detail, far simpler than the matched carvings on the walls of the [orc church??] in the village.

When he had finished cleaning the knife and tucked the damp bloodstained cloth into an empty leather pouch on his own belt, Morianon hauled the water bottle back to K’arik, who was nearly finished emptying the deer’s chest cavity. It was difficult to see the pile of guts under the swarming takran, all flapping and jostling each other as they shoved their bald faces into the gory mess. In spite of the blood, Morianon chuckled at their eager feasting. He waited patiently for K’arik to finish the job, handing over the damp cloth so the steel knife could also be wiped clean.

“All set,” K’arik informed him. Morianon nodded and hopped into the tree to untie the ropes. K’arik set the deer on the ground and bound its legs together, folding them into a less cumbersome position and finishing the job by tying the rope a few times around its middle. He lifted it up, carrying it in his arms with ease. It was much smaller than an elk, and no longer weighed down by the innards the takran were still gleefully tearing into. K’arik shifted his hold on it and held out a slim cut of raw meat to Morianon: a small portion of his gratitude. Morianon took it in one gulp, wincing slightly at the flavor. He rarely ate any meat besides fish, and this slice of the deer’s heart was tough and tasted strongly of blood, but he swallowed anyway and signed a “thank you” in return.

The journey back to the cabin felt quicker than the journey out. K’arik no longer paused to track anything, trusting in his experience and familiarity with the forest trails. Morianon could no longer ride on his shoulder, not wanting to make him carry the extra weight along with the deer. Sitla happily jogged along behind, holding an unidentifiable chunk of meat in her mouth all the way back to the cabin. Whether K’arik had given it to her or she had stolen it from the takran, Morianon wasn’t sure. He knew she didn’t really need it, but he wasn’t about to put up a fuss over it either.

Between the long hike and the clouds that rolled in, the forest quickly grew dark as the sun dropped lower and lower. Morianon left the trees and walked beside K’arik, who had the better night vision between them even without the magical enhancement to his senses. Though the magic may have worn off already; Morianon wasn’t sure how it worked. He followed his friend down the winding trails until the rune lights by the cabin were visible at last. They hurried towards it together, eager for warmth as the evening chill took hold. Morianon opened the door and set to making a fire while K’arik took the deer to the cold storage room behind the cabin, keeping the meat fresh overnight.

Silently, both K’arik and Morianon washed their hands at the sink, pumping well water through the heating rune to soothe their aching fingers and wash the blood and dirt away more effectively. Sitla sat by the hearth, gnawing whatever organ meat she had managed to bring with her. Too tired to make anything more filling, K’arik and Morianon finished off the bag of jerky and other trail snacks, quietly enjoying the tired satisfaction of the day’s efforts. Low burning embers kept the cabin warm as they curled up on the bed together, Morianon tucking himself into K’arik’s side and fluffing his feathers. Neither of them bothered to remove any clothing aside from their belts and any outer layers that had gotten dirty from the hunt. Softly, the sound of rain accompanied their rest, tapping on the roof in a gentle hush until they fell asleep.

#mm excerpts #mm 1 #writeblr #original writing #tw animal death #fantasy #i did so much research to get that hunting scene right #do u know how often i see fantasy and other stories just skip that stuff #i mean fair enough no one has to write full hunting scenes #but there are some stories that i think would benefit from going into a little more detail about it #or at least there are too many stories that treat it like it takes as much time as picking up meat from the store #hunting is a whole dang process you can't treat it like a handwave moment and pretend it took no significant time #pretty sure i remember that even hunger games kinda skims over that detail #which is odd since i think it's one of those stories where the narrative might truly benefit from more detailed hunting scenes #metaphors and parallels and all that

1 note · View note

sanguinesorcery · 5 months ago

Text

The mainland wasn't in as much of a shambles as Fariah had initially thought.

Even without a central civilization to rally around, the peoples themselves still managed to settle in and make their livings. It was something she could commend, seeing it up close for the first time in a very long time. She couldn't remember the last time she had been here. Some time in her father's reign, and the visit then had been brief.

The roads and byways were hardly more than packed worn dirt anymore, pale shadows of the illustrations in the journals of its glory years far before her time. Every so often, a paving stone would still be intact, stubbornly defiant to the passage of time, with the ruins of the what the capital had been strewn almost artfully through the Hyrulian landscape.

It had been nearly a week and a half since the unit of six had made landfall in one of their southern ports. Nine days simply because one of the horses was their Empress' Dragon. The warchargers were vicious brutes of mutant horses. Giants with wide mouths and many pointed teeth with the disposition to match their sinister grins. They thundered the ground when ran at full bear and had a surprising amount of stamina, but they sacrificed speed for such fierceness. A journey from the coasts to the rolling grasslands of what had once been Hyrule proper took nearly twice as long due to the beast, and a party only moved at the speed of its slowest.

They weren't blatantly armed, nor were they openly armored. Doing so would draw unwanted attention to the unit and they already had their fine distraction. It would do no favors to show they were on any sort of important mission, and any who got too curious as to why six of the Sidhe were riding at a fair pace toward the northeast would be reminded in the huffing roars and hungry teeth of the point stallion that it was honestly none of their business.

One of the few merchant caravans traveling the mainland had sent word of a relatively safe passage for access to something the Imperial family had been after for what felt like over a century now; an unowned mine had been found in the northeast region of the kingdom. Digging into the locals of the region, the place had all but been abandoned by established civilization and no one had laid any claim to it for some time, if at all.

It was wonderful news to the Empress herself, such that she not only handpicked the detail that would be moving to claim it, she had practically demanded to lead the charge herself. Her family had vied for mainland mines via the proper avenues when they realized their meager hauls of standard minerals and ores would not be enough to sustain their current lifestyle, to no avail in the past. But the royal family had all but disappeared in their last calamity and so with that in mind, Fariah opted finally to invade the mainland.

Political negligence was a serious thing in cases of land acquiring, one she planned to utilize with extreme prejudice if the royal family should randomly appear one day. Given the disturbing cycle of disaster and return Hyrule seemed to experience more commonly than anyone else, it was only a matter of time. In that time, the Sidhe should be able to not only establish, but defend the small mining colony they were taking now.

Island life made one complacent with time and distance. She knew it was not going to be a simple overnight campaign, but the scale of the kingdom -much less the continent itself- simply overwhelmed her personal time tables. The itinerary in her head kept having to push deadlines back further and further as she realized this would be a territory that was not easy to get to. Perhaps she could find the nearest coastline here and try to set up a small port town. That would have to be considered later, of course, but it was good to put it on the ever-growing to-do list she was accruing on the trip.

The journey had started taking its toll on Bucephalus. Normally an amiable beast (for a Dragon), capable of taking orders efficiently with little fuss, he had decided enough was enough after nearly two weeks of being on the move with little rest and enrichment. To put it simply, the warcharger was bored and he was set to make it everybody else's problem. After crossing into the region her navigator said was the final stretch, the black monolith stopped dead and refused to move. Any attempts to make him continue were met with resistance, a stomp of a hoof with a counterpoint of that unearthly roar to express his distaste.

Accepting her current fate astride the monstrous horse, Fariah turned her head to address the navigator. ">>How far is it to our meeting point?<<"

Being careful to stay far from the temperamental beast's head and more importantly its teeth, the navigator stopped their own horse next to her to pull out the map rolled in a pocket on their saddle. ">>A half a day maybe, Your Imperial Grace. Taking into account our speed as of now.<<"

">>Which, as luck would have it, is none.<<"

She sighed heavily, pulled the reigns in her hands tight as the stallion tried to express more anger with a snap of his teeth in the navigator's direction. Thwarted from his plans, the Dragon flattened his ears to his head. A perfect mirror to his rider, whose ears also snapped tight to her head in annoyance of his antics.

">>I suppose a rest is in order, then.<<" she finally announced, receiving a series of positive results from the rest of the detail. ">>If something happens near that mine, the caravan can handle it long enough for us to come to their aide. In the meantime...<<"

A quick scan of her surroundings were given and they centered on a structure nearby. It was hard to not notice the thing, the walls of what were possibly an old fortress blended into the landscaping to use the natural impregnability of it. A marvel, really, to find a military installation still standing here, much less dominating the landscape as wholly as it was. She would be a fool not to use it to her current advantage, nodding her head toward it.

">>There. That should suffice. We will rest here, let the brat hunt for rats or squirrels or whatever he sees fit to unwind, and continue on in the morning. I feel we could all use a break from the road anyhow. You...<<" She pointed to one of the detail, then to a second. ">>...And you. Run ahead and find us a safe spot to enter, if it is safe at all. I will follow along behind the rest of you, he may do better following than leading his herd for now.<<"

With a combined ">>Yes, Empress<<", the two scouts set off to do their given role, the remaining detail following at a brisk staggered trot behind them. As expected, with what he thought were his mares getting away from him, Bucephalus grumbled and stepped at his own pace with occasional tosses of his dangerous head after them.

The paved road seemed to form out of the dirt, its existence surprising the Empress as it turned and coiled up the side of the mount. This was impressive, the integrity of a place under fire to maintain more than just its outward shape but the paths to it as well, the walls encircling the solid natural core barely missing any masonry. Even the flourish details were still recognizable, making the structure all the more beautiful to her in its ruin.

">>How delightful...<<" she muttered to herself in some small appreciative awe before she spotted one of the scouts up ahead beckoning her with a hand.

One of the portals on the side had the back crumbled into what looked like a small chamber enclosed by the wall, the smear of soot in the middle of the floor among scattered rocks denoting this as a place someone had stayed in once before. It was still a large enough space to comfortably house all six and their horses, including the Dragon.

">>Alright. I assume this is safe...<<" she posited, tethering the warhorse to give him as limited motion as possible, but still have ample opportunity to hunt any small vermin that dared come too close.

">>Yes, Empress. We checked completely inside of it before choosing it.<<"

">>Good. Get a fire started and we will unpack what we need for the night here. Keep eyes and ears open, we do not know what else could be inhabiting around here. Stay away from the summit, move back down toward the base if you need to. May we have a good uneventful night and continue to our destination in the morning.<<"

A chorus of affirmatives met her before the flurry of activity began. For in its inertia, rest would soon arrive.

@dullweapons || Starter Call

#RP #dullweapons #V: Imperial Landfall #S: BOTW #it took me a bit to go back and do Research; i remember we crested akkala early in the game so i needed to remember what i was doing #im sorry if some details are fuzzy as a result #actual timeline left somewhat vague to posit whatever you feel necessary for the setting yee!#otherwise i hope it works :D #and sorry for the textbook haaa

1 note · View note

fixomnia-scribble · 8 months ago

Text

WOW.

Scientists found an amazingly well-preserved village from 3,000 years ago

Text below, in case article access dries up:

LONDON — A half-eaten bowl of porridge complete with wooden spoon, communal rubbish bins, and a decorative necklace made with amber and glass beads are just a handful of the extraordinarily well-preserved remnants of a late Bronze Age hamlet unearthed in eastern England that’s been dubbed “Britain’s Pompeii” and a “time capsule” into village life almost 3,000 years ago.

The findings from the site, excavated in 2015 to 2016, are now the subject of two reports, complete with previously unseen photos, published this week by University of Cambridge archaeologists, who said they cast light onto the “cosy domesticity” of ancient settlement life.

“It might be the best prehistoric settlement that we’ve found in Britain,” Mark Knight, the excavation director and a co-author of the reports, said in an interviewThursday. “We took the roofs off and inside was pretty much the contents,” he said. “It’s so comprehensive and so coherent.”

The reason for the rare preservation: disaster.

The settlement, thought to have originally consisted of several large roundhouses made of wood and constructed on stilts above a slow-moving river, was engulfed by a fire less than a year after being built.

During the blaze, the buildings and much of their contents collapsed into a muddy river below that “cushioned the scorched remains where they fell,” the university said of the findings. This combination of charring from the fire and waterlogging led to “exceptional preservation,” the researchers found.

“Because of the nature of the settlement, that it was burned down and its abandonment unplanned, everything was captured,” Knight added.

“As we excavated it, there was that feeling that we were picking over someone else’s tragedy,” he said of the eerie site in the swampy fenland of East Anglia. “I don’t think we could smell the fire but the amount of ash around us — it felt close.”

Researchers said they eventually unearthed four large wooden roundhouses and an entranceway structure, but the original settlement was probably “twice as big.”

The site at Must Farm dates to about 850 B.C., eight centuries before Romans came to Britain. Archaeologists have been shocked at “just how clear the picture is” of late Bronze Age life based on the level of detail uncovered, Knight said.

The findings also showed that the communities lived “a way of life that was more sophisticated than we could have imagined,” Duncan Wilson, head of Historic England, the public body responsible for preserving England’s historic environment, said in a statement.

The findings unearthed include a stack of spears, possibly for hunting or defense; a decorative necklace “with beads from as far away as Denmark and Iran”; clothes of fine flax linen; and a female adult skull rendered smooth, “perhaps a memento of a lost loved one,” the research found.

The inhabitants’ diet was also rich and varied, including boar, pike and bream, along with wheat and barley.

A pottery bowl with the finger marks of its maker in the clay was also unearthed, researchers said, still containing its final meal — “a wheat-grain porridge mixed with animal fats” — with a wooden spatula resting inside the bowl.

“It appears the occupants saved their meat juices to use as toppings for porridge,” project archaeologist Chris Wakefield said in the university’s news release. “Chemical analyses of the bowls and jars showed traces of honey along with ruminant meats such as deer, suggesting these ingredients were combined to create a form of prehistoric honey-glazed venison,” he added.

Skulls of dogs — probably kept as pets and to help with hunting — were also uncovered, and the dogs’ fossilized feces showed they fed on scraps from their owners’ meals, the research found.

The buildings, some connected by walkways, may have had up to 60 people living there all together, Knight said, along with animals.

Although no intact sets of human remains were found at the site, indicating that the inhabitants probably fled the fire safely, several sheep bones were found burned indoors. “Skeletal remains showed the lambs were three to six months old, suggesting the settlement was destroyed sometime in late summer or early autumn,” according to the university’s news release.

Ceramic and wooden vessels including tiny cups, bowls and large storage jars were also found. Some pots were even designed to nest, stacked inside one another, Knight said — evidence of an interest in aesthetics as well as practicality.

A lot of similar items were found replicated in each home, Knight added, painting the picture of completely independent homesteads for each family unit rather than distinct buildings for shared tasks — much like we live today.

Household inventories often included metal tools, loom weights, sickles for crop harvesting, axes and even handheld razors for cutting hair.

The roundhouses — one of which had almost 50 square meters (nearly 540 square feet) of floor space — had hearths and insulated straw and clay roofs. Some featured activity zones for cooking, sleeping and working akin to modern-day rooms.

The Must Farm settlement has produced the largest collection of everyday Bronze Age artifacts ever discovered in the United Kingdom, according to Historic England, which partly funded the 1.1 million pound ($1.4 million) excavation project.

The public body labeled the site a “time capsule,” including almost 200 wooden artifacts, over 150 fiber and textile items, 128 pottery vessels and more than 90 pieces of metalwork. Some items will go on display at the nearby Peterborough Museum next month.

Archaeologists never found a “smoking gun” cause for the fire, Knight said. Instead, they suspect it was either an attack from “outside forces,” which may explain why the inhabitants never returned to collect their possessions from the debris, or an accidental blaze that spread rapidly across the tightly nestled homes.

“Probably all that was left was the people and what they were wearing; everything else was left behind,” Knight said of the fire.

But the preservation has left a window for people to look back through in the future. “You could almost see and smell their world,” he said.

“The only thing that was missing was the inhabitants,” Knight added. “And yet … I think they were there — you certainly got glimpses.”

#archaeology #bronze age #UK archaeology #excavations

4K notes · View notes

boleynqueenes · 1 year ago

Text

@neverwherewrites

I was so excited to see the notification that you posted & I LOVED the update! There really is so much there every time I reread I pick up something new

tysm! <3

yeah, actually believe it or not i still have to post mooore relevant primary source quotes (done with secondary tho, i think), im editing belatedly rn and going to add the one about john husee and the livery kirtles soon as.

#neverwhere #replies #i'll probably make a graphic just so i have an excuse to post a link to the new chapter...im proud of it #took me quite some time to craft ; still have some relevant quotes for the research details #(the blue satin hanging from the ceiling was something recorded at a banquet in greenwich; the wine from the statues atop #gilt pillars was from another at greenwich)#maybe i'll just post them here lel my notes are becoming MASSIVE...

1 note · View note

yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).

Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.

Word Count: 2.7k.

TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

Alhaitham

It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.

It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.

He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”

His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”

“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”

“The plots are very—”

“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’ve read them?”

There was a long beat of silence.

Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”

“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.

Neuvillette

Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.

You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.

You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.

Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”

His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”

Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”

“Mhm.”

“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”

He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.

Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”

For your own sake, you decided to believe him.

Kaveh

“Kaveh.”

“Not now, treasure.”

“Go to bed.”

“I will, in another hour.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”

“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”

“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”

Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.

Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.

With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”

Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.

But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.

He’d already fallen asleep.

Tighnari

He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”

“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”

“We don’t have any kids.”

“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”

“She’s nineteen.”

“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”

His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”

“Check page twenty-seven.”

You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”

“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”

You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.

Cyno

“You have kidnapped me.”

“Technically, I was only—”

“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”

“You can’t still be hung up on—”

“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”

“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”

For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”

His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

“Cyno?”

“I’ll change.”

Wriothesley

You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.

You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”

“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”

He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”

“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”

He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”

The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”

“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”

When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.

“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”

4K notes · View notes

ybklix · 1 month ago

Text

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

๋࣭ ⭑🕸 pairing: vampire!chrisbahng x inexperiencedfem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇˚⋆ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: As part of a college assignment, you interview a peculiar doctor about his success and long career, but then he starts telling you about the odd and unbelievable lifestyle he used to lead that got him there, claiming to be something you find funny at first, but then you get caught up in the details, causing tension and questioning reality.

˖⋆࿐໋ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI 18+, smut, corruption kink, breeding, choking, biting/marking, slight dubcon and sadism, pet names, blood play, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie. ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 10.2k

𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 01: vampire

notes: inspired by the 1994 movie of the same name! ✩ it's implied to be set in aus but ik the fall there it's different, but anyway, it's just to fit the theme

It was a cold night, the cool wind blew your hair gracefully and you enjoyed the exquisite scent of the autumn leaves that reached your senses and rustled with every step you took. It was the weekend before Halloween and the whole campus was full of young people walking around in their costumes, you felt a little out of place, as they all smiled and walked shamelessly in their most extravagant clothes, hairstyles and make-up to some party, unlike them, you were wearing your very nice autumn outfit, dark red sweater with V cleavage and a black scarf, mesh tights, brown plaid skirt and knee high dark brown heeled boots and a coat, and you were not going to a party, but to an interview with the handsome and well respected Dr. Christopher Bahng.

Bahng was about to be praised for his long career at the university hospital, for his contribution to society with his own clinic and helping students, mostly medical students, who were fascinated by Bahng’s merits and blinded by their fanaticism and admiration, being carried away by rumors that the guy himself was a medical legend, they suddenly became curious about his life and career, to which they suggested an interview about his professional life as a doctor and specialist. And, mysteriously among the uncertainty there you came in, you were not a medical student, you were in your third year of your nursing degree and saw Dr. Bahng on very few occasions while rotating through your shifts at the hospital, so the offer still remains a mystery to you, why you?

You had absolutely no idea what your colleagues at your faculty newspaper were talking about one afternoon when you walked into the room and there was a loud commotion and uproar, that Bahng had agreed to an interview, but asked that it be specifically done by you. It was an afternoon, when you were about to write and share information obtained from a small unimportant paper you would do, but one of your friends, Yang Jeongin took the courage to approach you and be the first to give you the news.

“Dr. Bahng chose you to do an interview with him for the commemoration of his long professional career at the hospital. You have to be the best, you practically have half the medical school all over you, well at least the annoying students working on his paper who came confused to break the news.”

Bahng was a legend and a mystery. He was handsome and charismatic but you couldn’t find a single social media or photo of him on the internet beyond his LinkedIn. There were pictures of him hanging out with more doctors posted by the faculty, pictures of him looking uncomfortable and always all the way in the background or on the sidelines as if he was out of commitment, pictures of him receiving accolades with a fake smile and medical school articles mentioning him, but nothing else about him. You knew that because you researched him a bit before talking to him as you were terrified to go with a blank mind, from just knowing he was an obstetrics doctor, at first you dug into his professional life which you could find information about, but curiosity got the better of you a bit and you wanted to dig into a more human side of him, wanting to see a picture of him with a friend on the beach, or posting something a thirty-something man would do, a social media or something, but there seemed to be no sign of him.

You rang the doorbell, swaying in place slightly nervously and waiting to be answered, the house was impressive and in a quiet neighborhood away from the busy city center, away from your university and the hospital, Dr. Bahng’s house. Although you had to admit, something about it gave you the creeps, large and well maintained houses that seemed to be inhabited by ghosts, long trees and the blowing of the wind gave you strange sensations.

Dr. Christopher Bahng greeted you with a smile, dressed in casual black clothes, black t-shirt, black jeans, a long chain with a cross and silver bracelets on his wrists.

“Y/n” he said to you, stepping aside to make way for you, “You’re a little early. Come in, please.”

You blushed as you hoped the time wouldn’t be an inconvenience but honestly, it was for you, he was only willing to give the interview at 8pm and although you planned the series of questions and estimated time, it was uncertain exactly what time it might be concluded.

The date and time were problems for you; your friends were upset you missed countless costume parties just to be there. But there you were, the restlessness and curiosity about why he chose you was greater than a lousy college party. You were about to turn down the offer since it meant that you would have to walk back to the university alone and a little late at night, but the medical students begged you to accept it and Jeongin offered to pick you up at night if it was getting late and you felt unsafe to walk back home alone and ask for a ride from an app. You wanted to think that the reason for your appointment time was because he was off work, but that would be a lie, as everyone knew that Christopher Bahng always worked at night.

You walked by his house somewhat blushing, you were there because of something from the university, but it was inevitable not to think about how handsome the mature doctor was.

“Welcome” he spoke again.

“Thank you, nice to meet you, Dr. Bahng.”

“Nice to meet you too” he stared intensely at you, “You can leave your coat here at the entrance if you like. And take off your shoes, sweetheart, nice boots by the way.”

So he knew your name and face. You took off your coat apologetically and hung it on the coat rack but as soon as you did, you felt a chill in the air hitting your body, making you shiver. His house was cold and poorly lit, the lights were warm and dim. To your left were wide stairs and in front of you a wide hallway that led to more rooms. In the distance, you could hear a classical music melody softly.

“Sorry if it’s a little cold” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts, you settled your bag on your shoulder and smiled at him while gesturing with your hands that there was nothing to worry about, “I’ll show you around” he added encouragingly, almost as if he had read your mind that you were thinking about the decoration of his home, “This is the entrance” Chris walked and you followed in step behind him, “Here is a bathroom, feel free to use it whenever you want. Over there is the kitchen, the main dining room and... the main living room where we’ll do the interview so we can be more comfortable.”

You listened to him carefully as he pointed out. His house was huge but it felt lonely and like it lacked some... life. The decor was exquisitely tasteful, modern but without leaving small classic details and made the illusion of antique elements.

He was a sweet and kind man, you were ready to pay attention to any detail for the writing of the article, at the same time you let yourself be distracted by the attractiveness of his countenance and presence, even so there was something in the atmosphere that made you a little uneasy, you could not calm down at all and you were not nervous, it was a strange feeling that you did not know the reason. Or something strange about it that did not convince you.

Chris took you to his spacious living room, colored in a dark red and the soft melody of classical music came from a record player in the room.

“It’s late. Have you had dinner or would you like something, or something to drink?” he suggested politely.

You looked into his eyes, they were absolutely dark, he was so mesmerizing that you lost yourself for small moments.

“I’m fine, thank you Dr. Bahng.”

“Please call me Chris. I seriously love what I do” he brought a hand to his chest, “But people calling me Dr. all the time is exhausting.”

“I thought that’s what they liked to hear, after all they studied and went a long way to be able to call themselves that” you commented, more confidently, wanting to let go of the shyness in your body, seeing his effort to keep the atmosphere from becoming awkward.

He smiled and stared at you. Wow it had been a very very long road for Chris and you had no idea.

“To me it feels like people have been calling me that for over two hundred years. You seriously don’t want anything? I have fresh pomegranate juice.”

His comment confused you a bit and you caught his subtle change of subject.

“Juice is fine.”

He smiled narrowing his slitted, pretty eyes.

“Okay, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back. Do you want to do it at the table or on the couch?”

He was asking too many questions, you thought. You looked around the room, the ideal and professional would be the table, but the option of the couch and being able to more thoroughly capture everything about him seemed like a better idea.

“I’ll be on the couch, thank you.”

You couldn’t help but feel curious and probe with your eyes every tiny detail of the room, yes it was cold, you were so curious about Chris, but you had to keep a professional barrier, plus he was older and a superior to you. You couldn’t believe that a man like him was alone, he should have some partner out there.

You sat on the couch as you began to set up your stuff and audio and recording equipment, your notebook and pen to take notes, your cell phone in Do Not Disturb mode with the series of questions and before long Chris came over to you, with two glasses of a bright dark red juice, he set them down on the little table in front of you and turned off the record player.

“Thank you” you whispered to him, taking the glass shyly as you took a sip.

Chris smiled and sat down, approaching you and intimidating you with his gaze for the first time that night.

“Are you okay in there? Can you write well?” he asked without taking his eyes off you, raising his straight eyebrows as he stretched out his arm to take the glass and drink.

“Yes, thank you, Chris.”

He smiled again letting out a breath.

“Well” you said again, “Once the interview starts I have to refer to you all the time as Dr, is that okay”

“I understand, absolutely” he crooned softly and attractively, finding you tender when you spoke to him formally.

You admired his manly features and pale face for a second, letting your instincts take over, thinking that having him must be a dream. Chris widened his smile, almost blushing as if he had heard something funny.

“Ready?” you asked, awkwardly breaking the silence, his gaze on you felt heavy.

Your finger was already on the button of your recorder, positioned in the middle of you, when Chris said:

“Can I see your questions?”

“Oh, you didn’t get them?” you replied somewhat worried.

“Maybe I forgot to check the e-mail” he replied calmly.

You sketched a smile as you nodded softly and handed him your phone, he held it between his large hand and read the questions and handed it back to you with a disapproving grimace, worrying you a little more.

“Mmm... I can modify them, we can make this interview better.”

Your body heated up in embarrassment as you couldn’t believe he was doing that to you at the last minute. Those medicine fuckers, you thought, as you didn’t participate in the making of the questions.

“I mean I’ll give you something much better” he added.

You didn’t answer him for a moment but thought that you would see what to do later for it, that at the end of the day, it was you doing a favor by being there next to him at night.

“I want to answer to you, not the snooty med guys. Maybe we can do that later but… what are you thinking” he watched you closely.

Chris leaned his arm on the back of the couch and settled his body pointing in your direction, with a smug smile on his face using a serious tone, you felt his intensity. You only got more confused and thought, what? why would it matter what you thought? what was he trying to say?

“Because I’m interested in you. You come in here with the question of why I chose you, you want to know?” Chris said again, almost scaring you that he was answering what you were thinking.

Either he was fucking smart enough to read people easily and deduce obvious thoughts or there was something about him that was making you uneasy. You took a small sigh, you felt hopelessly attracted to him, dizzy, as if seeing his dark eyes was hypnotizing you, you quickly averted your gaze, scared thinking about what the fuck was going on, you saw the glass of juice, had he put something in it? That’s what you get for accepting drinks from an unknown man…

“It’s just juice” he answered, “You’re not feeling well?” he replied.

You looked at him again confused and slowly regained your composure.

“Why me?” you said, almost in a whisper, he raised his eyebrows waiting to hear more from you, “Why would I interview you at your home, specifically me, I have never interacted with you or been in the same area of the hospital working, besides, I’m just a nurse student.”

You had so many questions that you couldn’t deduce an answer to, you were curious and it made Chris grin from ear to ear. If only you knew, and you were about to, however, Chris just covered up the truth a little.

“You have such a genuine and kind gaze about you, never in the long years I’ve lived in this place have I ever seen a woman like you. You are so human, you are the one who takes care of the patients’ sleep when the doctors are away. I saw you that time when you were on shift at night… I asked your name, something about you never left my mind since then. I wanted to hold you close, to know you.”

And it was true, it was innocence to one of the questions your colleague asked you when Chris overheard the conversation, he turned to see you slyly and you captivated his attention, it was as if he had developed a new sensory ability that revolved around you. That night you left at 4 a.m. from that shift at the hospital, you were covering hours for an occasion you couldn’t attend, Chris lurked in the dark behind your back, making sure you arrived safely.

You understood half the things he said to you, didn’t know whether to take it as a confession, whether to blush, whether he was saying he liked you, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, you didn’t even think you looked cute in your baggy clinic clothes, you didn’t know what he was talking about. Chris knew how overwhelming it all suddenly seemed to you, so he continued.

“And suddenly I saw, you have this presence about you of being someone to trust, someone who knows how to keep secrets. So I’ll tell you everything, things that people who know about this are dead. I’ll give you a better interview.”

You felt a shiver. Confusion and genuine curiosity in your bright eyes as your breath was cut off at his masculine, domineering presence and wordplay that felt like riddles. For Chris, he didn’t need any more facts about you, he knew absolutely everything. Digging into your little more than twenty years of life was not a difficult task for him, compared to his long journey. There was only one thing he needed and wanted and that was to have you, to breathe your scent, to listen to you and to look into your eyes. He was obsessed, so in his madness he wanted to confess you something that only 1 person “alive” in this world knew. By sharing his secret with you, he hoped to be united with you for eternity.

“What is it about?” you asked with uncertainty in your voice.

The innocence in your gaze filled Chris completely and he smiled smugly, pressing his long index finger on the button of your voice recorder, you became engrossed in the pallor of his strong arm, almost transparent leaving his notorious veins visible, until he spoke and you stared at him.

“My name is Christopher Chan Bahng, I was born on October 3rd, 1797 in Seoul, South Korea. My father was Korean and my mother was French, they met when my mother escaped the country shortly after the French Revolution, her whole family went their separate ways and her ship stopped in the lands of East Asia, she met my father, a merchant fond of the folk healing medicine of the time and I was born, the eldest of three children. I had a beautiful sister and brother, whom I adored with my soul until their last breaths, both died old and happy. And I-, well, I’m still here, right?”

You looked at him puzzled, skeptical, wondering if this was a joke, 1797, French revolution, what the fuck was he talking about? You wanted to start looking around for cameras because you thought it was a fucking joke.

“I had a good childhood, everything was fine until I turned thirteen and my mother had to go back to France because her sister got sick and she was the only family she had, she didn’t hear from her parents two years after she moved to Korea, so she took me and my siblings, leaving my father behind. It was in Paris in 1810 when the curiosity and passion for medicine was born in me, I had seen it a little bit with my father but things in Europe were so different. All the people lived sick, and died young. Conflicts left in their wake an unbelievable amount of disease. I traveled around Europe, learned languages and studied medicine in France, but female anatomy was my particular interest, they were such enigmatic, intelligent beings but my passion leaned more towards obstetrics, it was amazing that because of women humanity kept growing and growing and the world looked down on it. I loved to see and receive a new life… most of the time I was dedicated as an obstetric doctor for women of important families, so carrying the little one in my arms I could deduce that they would have a good life, good, for that time, but I always loved to help, I would visit the French village in search of poor pregnant women and I would do my best to preserve the life of both. Life was always for me… something so precious because back then every day was a new challenge, public executions, dying at sea and never being found when traveling, an infection or disease from an unknown agent that could lead to your death, the bad habits people used to have, the types of beliefs, life back then was ephemeral and a ticking time bomb.”

You listened to him attentively, lost in the details, you didn’t know if it was a joke or a story but… you were slowly falling for it, Chris was telling everything with emotion, with his hands moving and his look… as if he was genuinely remembering his past.

“On the other hand, my siblings made their lives, my sister got married at 20, she was a pianist and singer and went to live in Great Britain. My brother was a respected judge and married at 25 and I... was truly immersed in medicine, I never stopped to think about love, about wanting to marry and live with a traditional family, I was lost in study and in the discovery and advancement of medicine, until shortly before I turned 28, in 1825, my mother became ill with cholera and died. I was devastated, I became obsessed to the point of wanting to study more and more, I studied with some colleagues but I couldn’t stand it and the following year I escaped to Korea again in search of my father, to see if he was well, gosh, it was so extreme the way you had to reach out to someone. I arrived in Seoul the winter of 1826, I was lucky enough to find my father and we had a close relationship again. I went back to work as a doctor, I was a little bit popular as it was so fascinating for the pregnant women of the time, a doctor from Europe and... the following spring I met the love of my life, a popular midwife in town, we met doing our work and I fell deeply in love, by the fall I turned thirty I was marrying Lim Sohee.”

Chris paused for a second and silence fell, as if mentioning that name had overwhelmed him. And it had, it was touching deep down inside him, he hadn’t mentioned he... since so many years ago. You were engrossed, studying his demeanor and listening to the story... if it was a joke, how come he could tell it so well, you were in your mind visualizing every single thing, letting yourself be carried away by whatever he was telling you.

“I really thought I would have it all in Seoul, when I met Sohee I knew I wanted a family, that I wanted to take care of another life, having children and adoring them forever... but she could never conceive. She was infertile. We had a bad time trying, but she was getting sadder and sadder as it was what we both did and she couldn’t have ours. At that time I... was so desperate to know which of us was the main cause so I did something I will never forgive myself for, I impregnated a young, virginal woman from an important family... and the consequences were inevitable, I had my first daughter, identical to me, with my mother’s eyes. Bahng Chanmi was born on April 13th, 1830. I was happy because my dream was to have children, but devastated at the same time. Chanmi’s mother’s family, Insook, found out and for a moment I thought I was going to be executed as I was a married man, but they forced me to leave Soohe and marry Insook instead” Chris cleared his throat as if that was hard to speak, “Sohee couldn’t believe it, she left me and ran away to Japan leaving me heartbroken. I never saw her again and I never thought I would ever be able to love another woman again other than my own daughter, but I felt she took everything from me... until I...” Chris paused again to look at you carefully but continued, “I lost myself again, I didn’t love Insook, but I wanted to be a good father to Chanmi, so I was there for her. Two years after Chanmi was born, my father died, I endured two more years in Seoul and in 1834 I arrived with Insook and Chanmi in Sydney. I loved it here from the first moment I set foot in... but I was still disoriented, I was a mess, I felt that everyone around me was leaving me, I was only there for my daughter, I was passionate about nothing else, I fell into a bad habit of going to parties and taking refuge in alcohol and it was just one day after my 37th birthday when I immortalized that number in me. On October 4th, 1834 at about 3 a.m. in the harbor area of Sydney, a creature creeping in the night lured me with his voice and words, I was drunk, with no mind at all... and it was that night that he made me into what I am now” a new pause, “A vampire.”

You didn’t expect that, in fact you didn’t know what you expected in all that talk... but a vampire explained why he talked about himself living since the 19th century... but a vampire, it was illogical. There was no such thing, still, you again felt a chill and an uneasiness in his gaze. You didn’t want to be intimidated by that... it must be a joke, a scary story.

Christopher remembered it as if it were yesterday, the sleek, slender shadow of a delicate blond man approaching a helpless, drunken, heartbroken doctor. His face was angelic, but his demonic voice and intentions of a cold, murderous beast were even worse.

“I have seen you for a long time Dr. Christopher Bahng, saving lives to the good people in Sydney, doing god’s work... but... I see nothing but hell in you, you are unhappy, don’t you want some remedy?”

His voice was rough, thick, and his tone of voice playful. Chris remembers being dizzy, still seeing his silhouette and face. A young man, beautiful with freckles, long blond hair, wide dark eyes, and pale skin. Chris thought he was dreaming... or to have arrived in heaven, although if that’s what heaven was all about, why did he feel so ill.

Chris watched him in confusion, the cold sea air shivering his body with chill. The man was dressed in black and there was something in his gaze that unsettled every inch of Chris.

The blond huffed out a chuckle.

“I’m going to disappear everything from you... I’ll be your cure.”

“How?” was all a desperate Chris could say.

“All it takes... it’s just a little taste... of your blood.”

The next thing Chris felt was two strong stabs on his neck, the slender boy took his body, biting his neck, sucking and tasting every part of him. Chris whimpered and panted loudly, he felt mutilated, it was worse than the feeling of a scalpel on his skin and the sensation spread through his body, Chris struggled and fought, but surprisingly the thin boy was much stronger than him. Then he fell weak and unconscious, he knew nothing, until dawn when workers shook his body vigorously trying to wake him up near the harbor. But Chris felt different and the sunrise was slowly burning down his skin.

“Felix Lee was the name of the man... vampire who turned me. Felix was an attractive man, he had a unique beauty that mesmerized anyone, his appearance was so innocent which is why people fell for his tricks so quickly, Felix loved the game of seduction, cat and mouse, he would lure both men and women and then kill them leaving them without a drop of blood...”

You looked at him skeptically, his story was making less and less sense to you, Chris stopped instantly knowing what you were thinking.

“I know I know” he chuckled, “A vampire is kind of... crazy, with all the fiction these days, the movies and the marketing but... Party trick, check this out” Chris said amused.

Suddenly, he showed you his teeth, a normal set of teeth until you watched as in a millisecond his fangs lengthened, becoming sharp typical fangs... vampire fangs. You were scared, you didn’t want to believe it, it was impossible. His teeth went back to normal.

"There’s no reason to take the family photos, you wouldn’t believe it, photoshop makes those wonders and old-fashioned stuff out of my medicine materials? People sell it on ebay all the time... how come I can prove it to you?”

“A vampire?” you said in fright, interrupting him, “Really... it’s not a joke...?”

“Sadly no. I’ve been 37 for 190 years.”

You laughed in disbelief, you were beginning to believe... but your mind betrayed you, freaking you out and thinking that maybe this was a killer, a psychopath who likes blood, one of those obsessed weirdo types and perhaps the idea entered his head like internet psycho...? Chris laughed.

“I’m not some weirdo who obsesses over something he sees on the internet, not some random killer either” he commented.

You freaked out and went back to see him... how did he....

“How do I know what you think? I can read minds a little bit” he answered amused.

You denied, you were so scared to visualize anything else... that your mind betrayed you and you thought of Twilight’s movie.

“Twilight, really? Give me something more believable to tell you.”

You widened your eyes in fright, your breathing was getting uneven and you thought about calling Jeongin, that it was enough trick or treat and you had to go home.

“Jeongin... he’s not your boyfriend, is he? I didn’t expect you to want to leave so soon.”

“How do you know all that? Can you stop?”

“I’m sorry, it’s your privacy, I understand,” he apologized, “I don’t want to scare you.”

Chris didn’t know what your reaction might be, that was one of the only things he couldn’t control, but something in him was irrevocably drawn to you and the strength of that desire for you was so strong and hard to handle. It was... as if all his years of discipline, long decades of controlling his hunger and bestial lust were in vain, in the end, he fell for a young and simple human.

He was exactly scaring you... if you believed him... what was the point of telling you.

“I’m not going to hurt you either” he replied.

“How?” you told him more calmly after seeing his soft and worried expression, something in you couldn’t distrust him, “It’s so unreal...”

He sighed.

“It’s one of the questions I’ve asked myself for over a hundred years, but it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t ask to be, I cherished life but I didn’t ask to live for eternity, Felix turned me...”

You looked him in the eyes, “And what happened to Felix?” you interrupted him.

“After he turned me... I didn’t know what was happening to me, I had those two marks on my neck, the sun was burning my body and I had a ravenous hunger that wouldn’t be filled with food. And it was something I couldn’t control even being near Insook or Chanmi, I thought I was becoming mentally ill and wanted to murder them. I walked away from them and wandered around feeling weak and sick, I thought I would die alone. I was locked in my office, receiving no one until a young woman knocked on my door at night, worried about her dead sister’s baby whom she was now caring for, but I couldn’t, the smell of blood was killing me. The child had a fever and I did everything I could, I cured him by telling her that she should leave as soon as possible and to keep me updated if the fever went down and she insisted on thanking me, with the baby resting in a crib, I could not take it anymore and drank the poor girl’s blood and she fell, weak in my arms and I thought I had killed her, I was terrified, I acted on impulse and from there I knew I had become a monster. I didn’t know what to do... but I felt so good, so alive and strong. I took care of the child and left the woman’s body in the office, but she woke up the next day leaving me terrified, all this was defying every part of my being studied by science, I did not know how to control it and I also turned her. Felix showed up one night, congratulating me for my first blood tasting, I wanted to beat him to death, I asked him what I had become and he laughed and told me... a vampire. In the end it was chaos, Felix fell madly in love with the young girl I had turned and convinced me to go and live with them and the baby, as he said... we were the only monsters in Sydney. Felix would kill, but he never turned anyone. He was turned by an English guy who came back to Europe when Felix was innocently looking for some sex. He was obsessed with me as soon as he saw me... but once Adeline came along, the girl I converted, she truly became the love of Felix’s life.”

The distance between you and Chris was getting shorter, you listened carefully to his every word that came out with emotion, more than his old story, this time it was getting serious and you could see it in every part of it.

“Felix became so obsessed because she was a young, virginal woman, bragging that taking her blood was the reason it would satisfy my lust for quite a while. I lived with them but was still caring for and raising Chanmi. They both raised Adeline’s nephew and had the crazy idea of turning him when he was older. They were a mess together, I tried to convince them not to kill, and I fed myself on fake blood donation schemes I made up... but Felix and Adeline had a killer and predator instinct, they loved to catch people and rejoice in their pain and cries. After 10 years of living with them, my little Chanmi couldn’t understand why her mother was getting older and her father looked just like how she remembered him as a child. I made excuses and when she turned 20 I explained to her... Everything was fine, I lived with them because I was obsessed, they were my objects of study, I wanted to know the anatomy of a vampire and how anything worked, but impossible not to be captivated by them and their dirty little games” Chris grimaced, remembering his weak moments when lust would take over his instincts and he would have sex with both of them, “but Adeline had a secret, she was in love with me and not Felix, she confessed it to me after living 15 years with them and in her madness she believed it was Felix who came between us so, one evening in June 1849, Adeline killed Felix, giving him dead people’s blood, making him weak and confused, then stabbed his heart and set the house on fire...”

Chris looked you in the eye as you imagined each graphic scene. At least Chris believed Felix was dead however no body was ever found... although he wondered if it was even possible to come across a vampire body since the house wasn’t completely ruined, they got to cease-fire in time but found nothing.

“Then I did something I’m not proud of” you saw him attentively, “Adeline threatened to hurt Insook and Chanmi if I didn’t stay with her, that she would tell everyone what kind of creatures we are... the next thing I did was to capture her and keep her kidnapped for a week without human blood contact, she was going crazy and her hunger was a thousand times bigger than a romance, she promised to stay away from me if I released her, I did it and never saw her again...”

You worried, thinking that she may be seeking revenge to which Chris smiled, unable to help but read your mind and find it tender that you cared.

You had so many questions as soon as the silence formed... so many but so many questions but you just said:

“So what happened next?”

“Well, I stayed away from practicing medicine for periods because it was so suspicious that I was supposed to be 60 and I looked 30. My life became miserable as soon as Chanmi died at 85. I got to see her two children grow up, but she knew them well enough that she realized if she told them that their grandfather was a vampire they would expose me so my secret went along with her... I occasionally see everyone to make sure my family tree is still there. But the Bahng family name has been lost. I went back to Europe with a new identity, I went back to Asia and back to Australia again, I was just doing that to fill the void, I couldn’t die, and I wasn’t sure how a vampire could die, I also didn’t want to die terribly or in the horrible way Adeline did to Felix; I wanted a normal life, I wanted to grow old, to have children, I always wanted more children, to see them grow up and take them to play...”

You grimaced, analyzing the anguish in his tone as he confessed something that seemed like a dashed dream, you wondered for a second if he could still have children.

“Of course I still can” he replied looking you straight in the eye, making you feel inferior because it was hard to believe he could read your mind, “Physically I’m thirty years old forever, mentally, well... I must have died over 100 years ago” he let out a chuckle.

“And you stayed in Sydney, why? I thought you couldn’t stand the sun,” you said.

You wanted to avoid thinking about him, his closeness, his physical attractiveness, and his serious emotional tone of voice when saying something, as you knew he was going to know what you were thinking about.

“I can do it, for a short time and under a lot of protection, I love the beach, I adore seeing it even if I look like a lunatic covered from head to toe” he laughed again, “I finally stayed in Australia in the early 20th century and it wasn’t until the 80’s that I met someone like me... another vampire who was stalking me for years without me knowing it, Kim Seungmin, the director of the hospital, since then we have a pact, he has taken care of absolutely everything and keeps me in practice, I disappear for a while, then go back to my work, but lately people have been so curious to know what I do, the last identity I had is that I was born in 1987, I think I can work 10 more years, then I’ll step away for another few years until I can reappear, but you young people today, it’s hard to hide identities since you know everything, you’re suspicious of the slightest thing just because I don’t even have a damn instagram. Being a vampire is miserable.”

You opened your eyes in surprise to discover that there was more than one near you, or at least in the same city.

He stared at you again, piercing you with his gaze, “I led a strict lifestyle with discipline, I stopped drinking blood and did so only at Seungmin’s clandestine meetings when he gave it to me. Sometimes I only stayed alive out of curiosity at some point... if I could ever feel anything else, if I could ever let myself feel empty, or if I was doomed for eternity. Now I want to answer all the questions you have, you are free to know everything.”

His face slightly close to yours made you nervous, his gaze carried something you had never seen in someone before. Suddenly you forgot every single one of your questions, from the most serious and sensible to the silliest, you were absolutely unfocused and could only think about how your breath was going away at that enigmatic attraction you felt, it didn’t feel like any normal attraction, but it genuinely felt like something of yours, not something he was making into you. Your intrusive thoughts won out, you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to do it from the second you saw him, and you wanted a little adventure being alone at night, but the small thought of a simple make-out turned dark.

And Christopher could know every single scene that crossed your mind, once again you made him feel different, you made him feel full of energy without the need to taste your blood, he was no longer a soulless creature that had been living in darkness for almost 200 years, he had a desire towards you as any other human could feel but in him, it was a thousand times more intense, he gathered all the energy for the long years he never managed to get it.

He wasn’t sure whether to fulfill your thoughts but he couldn’t resist it any longer, he wanted to have you like he had never felt before and every second he didn’t touch you was overwhelming, he might die if he didn’t.

Your heart pounded as Chris put a big, cold hand on your face. He could smell and feel in every inch of himself your alive, human, blood-pumping body. His lust turned to a dark desire to taste you, an uncontrollable desire to fill your body with pleasure and fill himself with something more intense than a drug, your sweet, thick blood.

“And even after all these fucking years of the same hell... nothing compares to what you make me feel. You drive me crazy. This is something new, after 190 years of study and discipline... that fucked off as soon as I saw you.”

Once again his intimidating, deep gaze fixed on you, Chris brought his hand to your other cheek and held your face, analyzing it, as if it was something so unfamiliar to him... you watched him and let him touch you, almost quivering in shivering, between excitement at the tense atmosphere and uncertainty at the constant mystery he had you trapped in. Bahng breathed deeply, filling himself with your scent and enjoying the feel of your smooth young skin in his icy hands. He moved closer to you, pushing your voice recorder to the floor and you placed your hands over his to feel his long, slender fingers, his protruding veins... vampire or doctor, human, your body was uncontrollably begging for Christopher Bahng.

Finally, he kissed you, his masculine, cold nose touching your face to join your lips deeply and passionately with a hunger that never seemed to cease. It felt so good to be kissed and taken by a man, between his big hands that one of them went down to your neck causing you to shiver every time he had contact with your skin, but for Chris who has lived in coldness for an exaggerated amount of time, having you close and touching you was like discovering warmth for the first time. His lips were soft and plump and his movements delicate but passionate. So far arousal for him had been so normal, an idea that occasionally crossed his mind and he would seek some sex to distract himself and he enjoyed it and liked to do it... but right now with you, it was different, it was a colossal desire to have you, and his desperate touches reflected it.

He lowered his hands to your waist and slowly drew you into his body, until he was carrying you lightly with ease and placing you on his lap. You felt him, felt the firmness of his crotch press exquisitely against your cunt. Chris stroked down your body, stroked your hair in desperate acts as he longed to feel your bare skin, and kept playing with his mouth, lips, and tongue on you until you were breathless and just as you were about to part from him slowly, he found a way to bite down hard on your lower lip, making you moan softly and causing you to slightly expel blood from it; Chris smiled and licked your lip, playfully tasting your blood, as it wasn’t exactly from that source that he could fully satisfy himself.

You both looked at each other expectantly with ragged breaths; Chris acted desperate and took off your sweater, admiring your silhouette to take off your bra, you felt the cold of the room on your body making your nipples hard, you were nervous and stunned at the speed in which things were happening but you let yourself go again as you felt his big hands squeeze and caress your breasts while his fleshy lips went to your neck, kissing it and leaving hickeys that made you moan in pleasure, your center was so needy, throbbing desperately like your heart, it was adrenaline with excitement, it was such an addictive feeling so you began to move gently over his erection, making you both hotter and getting Chris’ rough, sexy short moans on your skin in response.

Chris kept caressing your breasts and squeezed your nipples, adapting to every sensation of his skin against yours, guarding in detail every sound you made and the action of your body every time he touched you. This time he was putting all his will into not letting his bestial side win, but he inhaled the scent of your neck and watched your skin tingle... he wanted to taste you, to drink you, and the idea made his hard erection throb, he had never felt sexual pleasure from biting someone, the action itself conveyed the sensation of intense orgasms together without the need for his genitals to react but right now he was being a mess, he had no control of his body, his cock was alive, hard and present for every inch of you... and the curiosity for your taste was driving him to madness.

“Baby girl I want to taste you... I want you to make me feel so full” he whispered, still torn whether to do it or not.

You stopped moving, and every hair on your skin bristled, you knew exactly what it meant, you leaned back on his shoulders and his hands caressed your waist and back, suddenly you felt the sharp edge of his fangs caress your skin. Slight fear and uneasiness came over your body, and your heart skipped a beat... if you let him do it, where would he do it? To what part of your skin does he get to pierce his fangs? Does it get into a vein? You can bleed to death...? And if it’s something he does, seduce young people and then drink their blood? Will you die tonight?

“Your pretty mind is full of questions...” he said again, his voice full of lust as he tightened his grip on your waist, “You’re a nurse, you shouldn’t be afraid of a little pain and light pinching...”

You let out a gut-wrenching scream, filling Chris’ every sense, he did it, he couldn’t control it and tasted you. He knew it hurt like hell, that only a sick fucker turned on by someone else’s pain could enjoy it and that was him, right now, what he wanted so badly to evade in his younger years in such cruel times.

You dug your hands in and slapped his shoulders, struggling to get away from him, crying as you felt two stab wounds dig in and penetrate your neck beyond your muscle, you wanted him to stop, you were feeling the suction of your blood, it was a new and uncomfortable feeling; for Chris it was heaven itself, 60 seconds in paradise tasting your thick and delicious blood that he had fantasized about for so long, the one that made you so unique, that flowed into your being and carried in it secrets of who you came from. Your blood filled him completely and as soon as he tasted it he knew it was pure and virginal blood. It drove him absolutely insane. And for you, it was hell, 60 seconds of sharp, agonizing pain.

His fangs pierced deep into you, every second was eternal but you felt that no matter how hard you fought it was in vain, you began to feel weak, to stop whimpering loudly and your vision began to blur, you were terrified but weak, you didn’t want this to be your final day.

On the other hand, Chris was holding you tightly by the waist until he left marks on your skin, he couldn’t stop, he had never tasted anything like this, he was obsessed, but he couldn’t prolong your pain any longer so he stopped.

His face turned away from your neck and he stared at you. You could see his smug smile and his lips and long fangs tinged with a thick dark red, which he licked, reveling in every last drop. You reacted again, frightened, your heart wanting to burst out of your chest, you brought your hands trembling with pain and horror to your neck and the wounded area, your neck hurt but it was a tolerable pain of discomfort, you felt the area, terrified to find yourself bleeding out but there was nothing, more than a few small drops of blood that stained your fingers and the sensation of the marks of two circular bites.

“No... I’m not bleeding... why?” you said in terror, feeling uncomfortable at the sensation of his marks as you palpated them.

“You forget I’m a surgeon too and that I’ve been a doctor for almost two hundred years, I made the perfect incision for you, pretty girl” he spoke in an arrogant tone, grabbing your trembling hand with your index and middle fingers enveloped in little blood and licked them playfully.

“I loved tasting your blood, now I’ll love tasting some more.”

Chris moved your body nimbly, sitting you on the couch as he bent down slightly, looking deeply at you again making you shudder, your fear slowly lowered, your body was racing, and you didn’t know if you were alive or dead but the sensations were so real. You felt you shouldn't have gotten aroused, but you did, his big hands tugged your skirt down until it was pulled off, and he spread your legs apart and got down on his knees in front of your center covered by your wet panties and fishnet stockings.

“Let me make you feel good. Is that okay?”

His tone of voice was sensual and captivating, his hands squeezed and massaged your thighs without touching your pussy. You didn’t understand how you went from fearing for your life to being once again with a fierce sexual appetite. You bit your lip to hold back your moan. You were alive. He was a vampire and you were both suddenly looking for sex on that cold and lonely night. You held back a moan and nodded, embarrassed to respond.

Chris drew a mischievous half smile on his face, observing and admiring every detail of your confused and aroused pretty and delicate face, your cheeks red and shiny from your previously shed tears of pain and finally he finely caressed with his fingers the length of your pussy getting as a response a moan and the soft twitching of your body. He pulled off your stockings desperately almost tearing them and pulled the fabric of your panties aside to admire your glistening pussy wrapped in your arousal, he let out an incredulous chuckle, now he was the skeptic that he could finally have you, that you had him trapped and feeling like he never had in 227 years on earth that most seemed like hell to him, until he met you, make today the day he could have you and kissed your lips; and the idea that you were a sweet young virgin woman went to his head, he wanted to make you feel so good, he wanted you to enjoy yourself like never if another boy never did, he wanted to treat you like the delicate girl you were, but also his inhuman pleasure wanted to take your body and feel your insides hard.

“Look at you, you’re beautiful.”

He was mesmerized, sweetly overwhelmed, poisoned and obsessed. He never wanted to let you go. He wanted you to be his, to leave a mark on you that would remind the world that you belonged to him, that he was the lucky one who put his hands, eyes and heart on you.

Chris brought his lips close to your clit, sucking it gently, you were again weak but with pleasure at the same time full of energy, your body was restless mind anxious for everything he could do to you, you could think of nothing else but him and you now in that room surrendered to desire.

Chris began to lick you, pulling away the fabric of your panties with one hand and with the other caressing every area that his mouth could not reach to coat, you moaned, his mouth was also cool to your warm core, it was feeling so good, Chris was hard at the thought of your innocence, of the light fabric that kept him from having you completely naked, that you were just beginning to live, that a few seconds ago you were crying in pain and now you were biting your lip holding back your gasps.

He began to stimulate you, licking your vulva, entwining his tongue in your labia, caressing your clit, pulling back the fabric of your panties, and stroking you over it to play with you and moisten it further, teasing your entrance. You stirred in place, restless and excited, forgetting the pain in your neck and shyly stroking his soft, slightly wavy dark hair. You were so aroused, every inch of you wrapped in fire.

Chris finally removed your panties as he saw you flustered and aroused, enjoying every second of caressing your legs on the spot, and took your pussy again with more desperation, he stopped his slow gentle play and began to eat you roughly but his movements were nimble and pleasurable. His face was buried in your core with his long fingers touching absolutely everything about you and when you least expected it, two of his digits inserted deep inside you, fucking you in a rapid pace.

You watched him the whole time, Chris occasionally gasped into your pussy genuinely happy to taste you, he was engrossed in you, wrapped in pleasure as he heard your moans and felt your body tremble. Chris raised his arm to reach up to caress your abdomen and breasts, he wanted to miss absolutely nothing about you that night he had you. You were on the verge of collapse and he knew it, he looked up as he went back to sucking your clit, he made eye contact with you, his dark eyes watching you fade before him and play with pleasure, you gasped releasing the tension in your lower abdomen, pushing out an intense orgasm that delighted Chris more than thousands of liters of unknown people’s blood could along his vampiric trajectory. Your sweet orgasm juice was something new that he could die from if he didn’t consume it, he discovered his new antidote for eternity.

You were agitated but inside you knew this wasn’t over yet. Chris savored your orgasm and felt impatient, he knew you couldn’t wear two marks on your neck proudly... or maybe you could, with how crazy he thought it was nowadays, but he was past his craziest moment, now he wanted to do to you what any human in a situation like you both were in would do, he was going to forever attach himself to you, he was going to enjoy every second of being inside you and being the first one to do it.

“Fuck, I can take it anymore, you will be mine forever.”

You watched as Chris stood up as he licked his lips covered in your glistening liquid, and took off his shirt in one swift movement because he wanted to feel your ragged breathing on his chest and the pounding of your heart attached to it and stripped completely naked removing his remaining clothes. You didn’t know you were really expected to lose your virginity that night let alone with Dr. Bahng... who confirmed you to be a vampire. You saw his face and pale, muscular naked body without any marks or scratches with nervousness and excitement, feeling your center moisten at the sight of his large erect cock. He moved closer to you, with a lurking gaze and kissed you again, playing with your tongue and your body trembled at the sudden sensation of his cock rubbing between your vulva and being wrapped around your labia.

“Ah, fuck, I’ll make you mine now, baby girl” he gasped in exasperation.

Chris couldn’t resist the softness of your folds teasing his cock so he slowly delved into your entrance, making you whimper as he hurt you again and opened up another part of you. But you enjoyed it, this time the pain was purely pleasurable and the scene of his large, wide cock opening your entrance was so obese and graphic. Chris moaned in pleasure with your walls choking his rigid member deep inside you. You saw the slight bulge in your belly form in your lower abdomen one last time as Chris carried your weak and excited body, making you wrap your legs around his body, he grabbed your ass and began to control your body raising and lowering it to his desire as he enjoyed your insides being sweetly ravaged. You whimpered again feeling so full but sore, you hugged him, pressing your bare chest to his. Chris moved your body with ease and at his mercy, babbling and moaning absolutely lost in the sexy sensation of finally having you, sliding his cock into your newly-used entrance, feeding himself on your soft whimpers. Chris felt full again, as alive as he hadn’t been for long, overwhelming years, your fluids combining with his, sliding along his cock and falling towards the floor gracefully, being a mess of passion that cold night. Chris fantasized about filling every part of you with his cum, the risk of the frantic sex you were having was taking him to the clouds, for the first time he had his experience close to heaven.

You felt your orgasm close, you were on the edge, it felt so good you wanted to arch your back, you parted from him, restless and agitated, throwing your head back enjoying the sweet pace it was to have him deep in you tickling and pounding deep inside you. Chris raised his eyebrows, ecstatic seeing your borderline expression, closing your eyes and throwing your head back panting softly, he stroked your neck at first, running his thumbs over the fang marks on your neck, thinking that lust had won in your body, with the amount he sucked you must have felt dizzy and passed out... but there you were bouncing on his cock, about to have your second orgasm and without thinking about it, again something took over him, to have absolute control of everything about you, to have you on the edge of absolutely every single thing you did, Chris grabbed your neck hard, causing you a sharp pain as he pressed tightly on your still sensitive injured area and started to cut off your breath, choking you and still moving your body with ease on his cock. You looked at him, his expression was soft, his eyes dark, but his actions were brutal, abusing your entrance, cutting off your breath and hurting you more where he had previously done so... the pain was grinding in your neck, which made you let out a tear, the pain in your sensitive pussy burned and throbbed, but you couldn’t help but continue to experience an irremediable pleasure, your pumping system seeking release, fighting against what to control first, you whimpered, his grip on your neck growing tighter and tighter, you pinned back into his strong shoulders, whimpered chokingly, finally collapsing in an orgasm that weakened every one of your limbs. And in the midst of your orgasm Chris cum inside you, fantasizing about the idea that you might be the sweet, tender woman who could carry on the Bahng name after so many years.

He let go of your neck gradually, letting you take a breath of air. Chris pulled out of you, leaving you surrendered with the warm sensation of his cum sliding down your entrance. You wanted to cry from the stabbing pain in your body but you were so tired to do so, you were so shaken, worried about the speed of your heartbeat, but you fell back into his strong arms, leaned your cheek on his shoulder and could only whisper:

“Chris I’m tired.”

Your eyelids began to grow heavy, you were feeling sedated and without control of your limbs.

“Oh my sweet girl, of course you are, I drank a good amount of your blood and you continued to have sex” he spoke in an obvious tone, causing him tenderness at your state.

Chris put his forearm behind your knees, carrying you as your legs felt numb. It was a different feeling, you couldn’t quite rationalize and wanted to fall into a deep sleep. He led you to his room, cold like the rest of the house and your vision began to spin. Chris laid you gently on his bed and you caught a glimpse of his window, illuminated by the night and in front of it the silhouette of a slim blond man... you were slowly falling and before falling into an uncontrollable sleep your mind managed to think of that name Chris mentioned, Felix. Chris read your tired mind for one last time before you closed your eyes to sleep.

He opened his eyes, frightened, there was nothing in the world that scared him more than the demonic presence of that blond boy. His distinctive voice echoed throughout the room and Chris saw his slender silhouette emerge from the darkness of the window.

“Christopher Bahng, my long-time friend. I see you finally got some other lady to have fun with... sharing all your little secrets, but did you miss me?”

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @lailac13 @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @oddracha @hyune-sssne @velvetmoonlght @shadowhunterathene @compersian @binniesbabe @strayywayy @mallielovssyou @isabel-018 @paborachaslvt

765 notes · View notes

woolysium · 27 days ago

Text

Anatomy Lesson

﹒♡﹒Pairing: Yunho + Mingi (college AU) x reader

﹒♡﹒Summary: As med students, you, Yunho, and Mingi have spent countless hours studying anatomy together—but in this study session, anatomical diagrams turn into hands-on lessons.

﹒♡﹒Word count: 4k

﹒♡﹒Genre: smut (MDNI)

﹒♡﹒Warning: pure filth, very nsfw, threesome, restraint, hand kink, choking, unprotected sex (a no no irl), double penetration, rough sex, very dom!Yunho, whiny mess!Mingi, Mingi is very desperate, teasing, overstimulation (let me know if i miss anything ig its too long)

﹒♡﹒Request: @mingi-s-dimples "Hey pooks 🙂‍↕️💖 it's me, Bia! I'd love to read something written by your for me sooo here is my request 😋😋 Yungi x reader, college au studying anatomy (I have the biggest yungi brainrot rn I'm so sorry + I'm studying anatomy as we speak). They've been study buddies since they started uni 2 yrs ago and they always met to study tgt. SO I'd love to read how reader is like into them but is too shy to tell them and the boys are like.. also kinda into her but they thought it's be weird to like.. tell her cause it'd be a 3some. NOT ANYMORE !! They study anatomy and reader starts touching them intimately explaining some of the structures (for ex thigh/abs and so on) and Mingi for ex gets turned on from it and gets a boner duh. They have some small talk and then they yk.. have a 3some 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ sigh. Anyways, I'd love to see: restraining with their bodies/hand kink/slight choking/double penetration (is not a kink ik), praise, teasing 😌 Gave you all the details I'd love to see and THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH LOVE YOUU 😋💖💖💖"

﹒♡﹒Author's note: This took longer than I expected, and filthier.... I never knew i could do this good until now lmao. Anyways this is a long ass fic, and cheers to my babe Bia for requesting it, even though i kinda died at the end so it looks rushed but, hope you like it, I love your idea so so much. It was a ride writing this, I had to research a shit ton on anatomy, but it was fun tho. This is not proofread thoroughly since it's too long and i was getting sleepy, so please ignore any errors. Enjoy the meal. I love you Bia 💜

You’ve known Yunho and Mingi since the first day of med school. Being more of an introvert, you usually keep to yourself, avoiding any unnecessary attention. But that day, the only open seat was right in the middle of the lecture hall. Yunho and Mingi showed up late, looking a bit lost, and ended up grabbing the two seats on either side of you.

At first, you figured they were just two extroverted guys who’d probably drift off to make other friends once they settled in—exactly the type you usually avoid. But as the lecture went on, they kept leaning over to ask for help, clearly struggling with the material. Yunho, with his easy smile and laid-back vibe, nudged you and whispered, “Think you could explain this? We’re kinda lost.” Mingi, with a shy grin that made him seem more approachable than his confident appearance suggested, nodded along.

You explained the basics, and they were grateful enough to ask if you’d study together outside of class. Despite your initial hesitation, you said yes, you couldn’t even believe yourself. From there, study sessions became a regular thing—quiet corners of the library or your living room, where you’d help them with the tough stuff, and they’d bring snacks and keep the mood light. They made everything feel a bit more bearable at least, even the late-night cram sessions.

Two years later, the three of you are still a team, but things have changed. Somewhere along the way, simple glances and casual touches started to linger. And there were moments—small, fleeting ones—where you could swear they were feeling it too. Like when Yunho would shift closer to you on the couch, his arm draped casually behind your shoulders, his fingers brushing the back of your neck just enough to make your skin tingle. Or when Mingi’s hand would find your lower back during those late-night coffee runs, the touch lingering a little too long to be just friendly. But no one ever said anything about it, all of you dancing around the unspoken tension that had begun to define your time together.

Tonight is just another study session at your place, and you don’t really think much about anything else other than the lessons. You're all spread out across your bed—Yunho sitting up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out, Mingi lying on his side next to him, propped up on one elbow. You sit cross-legged facing them, surrounded by notes and anatomy diagrams.

You're pointing out different muscle groups and explaining their connections, but you notice the looks of confusion on their faces. With a little laugh, you suggest, “Guys, I think it would be better to show you directly. How about I demonstrate them on your body?” Totally innocent request, or so you thought.

Yunho glances at Mingi, who shrugs with a faint smirk. “Yeah sure. Might be easier to understand that way,” Yunho says, scooching to the side a bit to make space for you. Mingi stretches out beside him, nodding along.

You start with Yunho, tracing the lines of his arm, outlining the biceps and triceps as you explain each muscle group. “So, here’s the biceps brachii,” you murmur, fingers gently pressing along the length of his upper arm, feeling the firmness beneath. Yunho listens intently, his usual playful smile tempered by a newfound focus as he watches your hand. “And just behind here, the triceps—helps with arm extension,” you continue, trailing your hand down the back of his arm. His body is relaxed under your touch, but there’s a slight shift in his breathing when your fingers glide over his chest and down to his abs, the smooth firmness beneath your fingertips making you a little more aware of the warmth radiating between you.

When you move over to Mingi, the atmosphere tenses up even more, you are oblivious, somehow. You run your fingers along his chest, explaining the pectorals. “This is the pectoralis major—it’s responsible for moving the arm across the body,” you say softly, your hand tracing the broad curve of his chest. He listens closely, his breathing grows a bit deeper as you outline each muscle. You continue downward, fingertips gliding over his defined abs. “And here’s the rectus abdominis… your core muscles.” Mingi’s body tenses beneath your touch, brows furrowing as he bites his lips, trying to control his reaction.

“This part—your obliques, they help with twisting movements,” you add, tracing the defined muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your touch follows the natural curve of his hip, then skims lower. It’s meant to be purely academic, but then your fingers slide over the curve of his hip and graze against the waistband of his jeans.

You’re about to pull away when your hand slips, just slightly, brushing over his crotch. You freeze, the realization hitting you like a jolt, the feeling of Mingi’s arousal under your fingertips sending a rush of warmth to your own cheeks. Mingi’s breath catches audibly, his body tensing beneath your touch. You glance up at him, heart racing, but his expression is caught somewhere between surprise and something more intense, his face flushed.

Before you can say anything, you catch the way Yunho's expression has changed too. There’s a heat in his eyes as he looks between you and Mingi, cheeks a little flushed and his breath coming out uneven, though he’s still trying to keep up his usual playful front. "You know, you might be a little too good at this," he says, his voice dropping, teasing but rougher than usual.

The air in the room feels thicker, making your heart beat faster. Yunho moves in closer, his gaze darker, watching you in a way that makes you swallow hard. There’s this electric charge between the three of you now, impossible to ignore. For a second, it’s like time stops—none of you quite sure how to navigate this shift, but aware that something's definitely changed.

Yunho’s usual teasing grin fades when he catches your gaze, something more serious in his eyes. His breath hitches, and you notice how he glances from your eyes to your lips, then back again, like he’s debating what to do. The room goes quiet, and the tension is thick enough to make you feel like you’re holding your breath.

You swallow hard, nerves making your voice waver as you finally break the silence. “I... I’ve liked both of you for a while now,” you admit, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. “But I was too scared to say anything. I thought... I thought you’d find it weird, or that it would ruin everything.”

Mingi lets out a breath he’s been holding, his expression softening even as his lips curl into a smirk, a mixture of relief and disbelief paints his face. “You serious?” He glances over at Yunho, who gives a slow, almost doubtful nod, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing either. Mingi’s hand moves to rest on your thigh, his grip firm, sending a jolt through you. “Look, Y/N. We’ve been into you for so long, but we thought you’d be freaked out by the idea... of being with both of us like this, you know.”

Yunho’s hand tilts your chin so you’re looking right at him. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and his voice drops lower. “Yeah, we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But if you’re saying you’re into this too...” His other hand slides to your waist, tugging you a bit closer. “Maybe we’ve been holding back for no reason.”

You shiver under their touch, heat pooling low in your stomach as the reality of the situation sinks in. Mingi’s thumb strokes slow circles on your thigh, his other hand trailing up your back. Yunho leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “So... what do you want, really?”

You catch your breath, feeling their warmth pressed against you from both sides. You look at them, and it’s like all the unspoken feelings are right there on their faces. A nervous smile tugs at your lips as you admit, “I want... both of you.”

Mingi’s grip tightens, and Yunho’s breath comes out in a low, almost relieved sigh, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dam breaking—no more restraint, just the three of you finally letting go of the tension that’s been building for so long.

The bed dips under their weight as Yunho settles behind you, Mingi in front. The heat radiating from their bodies is intoxicating, and you shiver as Yunho’s rough hand grips your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you. Already so needy,” he growls, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, sending a thrill straight to your core.

His lips crash into yours, rough and eager, as if he can’t hold back a second longer. His hands are everywhere—one cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, the other slipping beneath your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His grip is firm, possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer.

Mingi’s hands tug at the hem of your shirt, impatience lacing his movements. He pulls the fabric up and over your head, his fingers fumbling slightly as he tosses it aside. “He’s always in such a hurry,” Yunho teases, his voice a low rumble against your lips, but there’s a smirk in his tone that says he’s just as eager.

Your bra is the next to go, Mingi’s hands quickly unhook it and slide it down your arms. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue wetting his lips. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs, his breath coming in shallow pants. He palms your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from you as he rolls them between his fingers, his touch alternating between gentle and rough.

Yunho’s hand trails down your side, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He yanks them down in one swift motion, along with your panties, leaving you completely bare between them. He pulls back just enough to admire the sight, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “You’re beautiful, I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” he says, but there’s a rough edge to his voice that sends a shiver through you.

His breath is warm against your ear, his hands trailing down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive touch. He pulls you closer against him, his large hands sliding over your thighs before gently urging them apart. He holds you open, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady while the other spreads you wider, his fingers brushing against your slickness as he exposes you to Mingi.

Meanwhile, Mingi’s hands roam over your thighs, pushing them apart as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers tease along the edge of your crotch, just barely brushing over your wetness.

“Already soaked, huh?” Mingi’s voice is husky, tinged with a whine as his fingers press harder, rubbing slow circles over the soaked heat. He’s watching you, eyes blown wide with lust, lips parted as he takes in every little reaction. He lets out a shaky breath, his impatience bleeding through. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Yunho’s hand wraps around your throat, fingers tighten slightly, cutting off your reply. “Mingi, quit messing around,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. His fingers slowly twisting your nipples, hard enough to make you gasp. “She wants it rough, so let’s not make her wait.”

Mingi, positioned between your legs, drinks in the sight of you with darkened eyes, a low groan escaping him. “Yunho, she’s so wet for us,” he mutters, his voice husky with desire. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips trailing a path closer to where you need him most, his breath teasing your skin and making you squirm in Yunho’s hold.

Yunho tightens his grip, keeping you steady, a smirk playing on his lips as he feels you try to press closer to Mingi. “Easy, baby. Let him take his time with you,” Yunho murmurs, his tone low and commanding, his fingers brushing along your inner thigh as he keeps you spread wide for Mingi.

Mingi glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth hovering just inches away from your core, and you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. “You ready for this?” he asks, his usual confidence cracking just enough to reveal the desperation underneath. He doesn’t wait for your answer before leaning in, his tongue dragging slowly over your folds, tasting you with a groan that vibrates against your skin.

You gasp, your head falling back against Yunho’s shoulder as the sensation crashes through you. Mingi’s mouth is relentless, his tongue working you over with a rhythm that has your thighs shaking, but Yunho’s grip keeps you from closing your legs, keeps you open and exposed to every lick, every gentle suck. He spreads you wider with his fingers, giving Mingi the perfect angle, and Mingi takes full advantage, his tongue dipping inside you before dragging back up to circle your clit, teasing you mercilessly.

Yunho’s lips find your neck again, pressing rough kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. “Look at you, falling apart already,” he whispers, his voice filled with amusement as he watches the way your chest heaves with every breath. “Mingi, I think she likes that,” he teases, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, deliberate circles.

Mingi pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and rough. “She tastes so good, Yunho... I don’t think I can stop,” he admits, his usual confidence slipping into a more desperate edge. He dives back in with a hunger, his tongue working faster now, alternating between soft licks and harsher, more focused attention on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue until you’re crying out, your hands clutching at Yunho’s arm for support.

Yunho groans softly at the sound of your moans, his own arousal pressing hard against your lower back. He lets one hand drift down, his fingers grazing over Mingi’s jaw as he works, a silent encouragement as he keeps you pinned in place, making sure you can’t escape the overwhelming pleasure. “Yeah, that’s it, Mingi... make her fall apart,” Yunho breathes, his own voice thick with desire as he watches the scene unfold.

Mingi’s pace grows more frantic, his lips and tongue driving you to the edge, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he devours you like he’s starving. The combination of Yunho’s firm, steady grip and Mingi’s relentless mouth leaves you helpless between them, your body arching as the tension builds, heat pooling low in your belly until you can’t hold back anymore.

“Yunho, please... I—” Your words dissolve into a choked moan as Mingi’s tongue circles your clit faster, pushing you right to the brink. Yunho’s hand slides back to your throat, not applying pressure but just resting there, a reminder that he’s the one in control, a reminder of how completely you’re at their mercy.

“That’s it, baby. Come for us,” Yunho whispers against your ear, his thumb stroking over your pulse as if feeling the way it races beneath his touch. His other hand tightens on your thigh, holding you wide open for Mingi’s tongue, making sure you can’t escape the intense sensations that roll through you in waves.

And when your release finally crashes over you, it’s like everything shatters—your body shaking between them as Mingi holds you steady, his tongue slowing but never stopping, drawing out every last aftershock until you’re a trembling mess in their hands. Yunho’s grip softens, turning soothing as he brushes his lips against your temple, “Good girl,” his voice soft in a low register.

Mingi pulls away from you, lips slick and pupils blown wide, catching his breath as he watches the way your body trembles. He flashes you a wild grin, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he takes in the sight of you coming undone. “You’ve got no idea how good you look like this,” he murmurs, voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

Yunho’s large hand cups your jaw, his fingers pressing gently but firmly as he tilts your head back, stealing your breath with a demanding kiss. His tongue slides against yours, leaving you dizzy with the heat of his mouth, while his free hand drifts between your legs. His long fingers find the slickness Mingi left behind, sliding inside you with ease, spreading your pussy open, curling to press against that sensitive spot that makes you gasp into his mouth. He groans at how ready you are, his own control slipping as he pumps his fingers slowly, making you arch against him.

“Think she’s ready for us, Yunho?” Mingi teases, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, his voice tinged with a playful edge even as his own breath comes out shaky. His hands press your legs open wider, his grip rough and eager, holding you in place beneath him.

Yunho pulls back, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he speaks. “More than ready,” he murmurs, his tone low and dark. He withdraws his fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing, and Mingi’s lips twitch into a smirk as he watches the way your hips move, seeking more. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing the toned muscles beneath, and shoves his jeans down in a hurry, his cock heavy in his hand as he strokes himself, his eyes glued to the way you tremble beneath them.

They both shed the last of their clothes, and the sight of them—Mingi with a desperation in his eyes, his cock hard and leaking, and Yunho’s self-assured composure as he strokes himself slowly—has heat pooling in your belly all over again.

Yunho catches Mingi’s eye, and there’s a shared look between them—a look that you can’t quite make out of. Mingi huffs out a breath, a smirk curling his lips even as his hands tighten on your thighs. “Ready to make her feel good, aren’t we?” Yunho taunts, his tone edged with a dangerous kind of promise.

Mingi’s response is a low hum as he settles between your legs again, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. He presses a final kiss to your thigh, his lips soft before he lines himself up with your entrance. “You’re gonna take us both, sweetheart. You up for that?”

Yunho’s grip tightens on your jaw, guiding your head back so you’re looking at him, his expression dark and intense. “She can take it. Can’t you?” he challenges, his thumb brushing over your lips, the pressure making your breath hitch. You nod, can’t even form words, and a satisfied smirk tugs at Yunho’s mouth.

Mingi eases himself inside you, inch by inch, his moan vibrating through you as he stretches you open. The way his big dick fills you is almost overwhelming, his rough grip grounding you as he bottoms out, shuddering against you. “Fuck, she’s so tight... I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that,” he’s breathless, barely keeping himself together as your body tightens around him.

Yunho smirks, his fingers flexing against your throat. “She likes it, Mingi,” he murmurs, the dominance in his tone sending a thrill through you both. He moves his hand to your clit, his touch unrelenting, and the added sensation sends you spiraling, your body arching back into him as he drives you higher.

Yunho’s smirk widens, his gaze tracking every twitch of your expression as he positions himself behind you, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance alongside Mingi’s. He moves slowly, letting the stretch settle in, and you gasp at the sensation, the stretch is intense, burning in the most delicious way as your body struggles to adjust. They both push forward, filling you to the brim, and you can’t hold back the sharp cry that escapes you, the sensation leaving you breathless.

Yunho’s breath ghosts over your skin, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Look at how desperate he is for you,” he taunts, his fingers pressing down on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “But you love it, don’t you? Being filled like this, over and over until you can’t even think straight.”

Mingi’s head snaps up at that, his lips curling into a defiant smirk even as his movements falter, every thrust turning sloppy and wild. “She loves it... I can feel how tight she gets every time you touch her,” he gasps out, his voice cracking into a moan as Yunho’s fingers tighten their grip, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, and he holds you there, his grip firm as he watches the way your lips part, vision going hazy. Mingi loses himself in the rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he chases the edge of release, his desperation palpable in every shuddering breath.

You can feel Mingi’s pace falters, his head dropping to your shoulder as his breath stutters against your skin. “Fuck, I can’t hold back... she’s driving me crazy,” he groans, his voice breaking on a whimper as he feels the way you clench around him.

From behind you, Yunho chuckles, his own control slipping as his hips snap forward, burying himself deeper inside you. “Don’t hold back,” he growls. “Make her come again.” The dual sensations of their thrusts, the weight of their bodies, and the intimacy of the moment push you closer to the edge, and you feel the tension building again. “I can’t—oh, God, I’m so close!” you cry, your nails digging into Mingi’s arms as you cling to him.

The room fills with the sounds of your combined breaths, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the low, breathless curses spilling from Mingi’s lips. His hand slips, reaching back to grip Yunho’s wrist, grounding himself as he rocks into you with wild abandon, his moans turning needy and high-pitched as he finally loses himself in the pleasure.

Yunho increases his pace, and Mingi’s fingers dig into your skin as he matches the intensity. “That’s it, just let go,” he encourages, his voice a desperate plea.

The heat spirals through you, the sensation of being double filled amplifying everything. Your body arches back against Yunho, and with a final thrust from both sides—it pushes you over, and you come with a broken cry, clenching down around them.

Mingi loses it then, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a choked moan, his whole body shuddering against yours. Yunho isn’t far behind, his grip on you steady as he pushes deep one last time, burying himself as he loses control. He keeps moving through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re a trembling, spent mess in their arms.

They hold you there, their bodies pressed against yours, the heat of the moment fading into a heavy, sated silence. Mingi’s head rests on your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin, while Yunho’s hand gently loosens around your throat, his lips pressing a softer kiss to the side of your neck.

You’re all left panting, tangled together in a messy heap, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Mingi pulls out first, dropping back onto the bed with a breathless laugh. “Fuck, that was... intense.”

Yunho wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Yeah, it was an intense anatomy lesson, but she took it like a champ,” he murmurs, voice full of pride. “Didn’t you, babe?”

You nod weakly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you relax into their warmth. “Yeah... I did.”

by @woolysium

1K notes · View notes

ent-is-indecisive · 2 years ago

Text

Id : a rendered digital portrait of nancy wheeler as an avatar of the hunt. She is hunched as if recoiling but looking up, with a gun in one hand and the other extended into claws. The background is greenish with red circles like a target, the red target also appears in her eyes./end id

Id : a rendered digital portrait of eddie munson as an avatar of the end. He has pointy teeth and ears with various earrings and chains. His eyes are fully black with a white circle on the outside of the iris. Black vines are crawling over and under his black coat, which is covered in pins and patches./end id

So like. Since i started working on all of that months ago and i still only have 2 pictures finished i might as well start posting them now ! Also because i've been noticing more tma/st crossover posts and im always looking for friends :)

I doubt there's much overlap between the stranger things fandom and the magnus archives but frankly, i dont think there's enough horror in stranger things. Which is surprising when you consider the source material. So i've been having Thoughts about the Fears and their avatars.

I'm turning everyone into monsters, is what I'm saying.

Steve would be a perfect candidate for avatar of the Corruption. He achingly wants to be loved. He needs to be Loved. He's been so alone for so long and he just wants someone to stay, so of course the Corruption would welcome him to its domain. The insect thing doesn't work for him though. Or at least I couldn't think of any insect that would mesh well with his whole thing.

Then I remembered that Robin is terrified of rabies, and there isn't a Steve without a Robin, who is also someone who desperately wants to be loved for who she is. Obviously their connection to Filth wouldn't lie with insects. They'd be disease. So Corruption avatars Steve&Robin (always always Steve&Robin) would have fever bright eyes, skin damp with sweat, cheeks somehow both flushed and sallow, and lips cracked dry and red. They're always in contact somehow: leaning against one another, standing with arms pressed close, pinkies hooked together. Constant contact. When they're still for long enough, their skin starts to ooze and meld so they could be closerclosertogether.

Things get truly horrifying, however, if they're ever forced apart. They become rabid things, violently agitated and foaming at the mouth. They infect anybody who gets in their way. It's a horrible way to die, burning with fever, fear, and confusion as skin and muscles spasm hard enough slough off bones. Anyone who dares stand between them doesn't live for long.

Steve&Robin have their own collection of statements at the Usher Foundation. In fact, Hawkins, Indiana is of great interest for the Usher Foundation because of the number of avatars present in such a small population. Because you have Steve&Robin collecting fear for the Corruption, but there is also Nancy who is a prolific avatar of the Hunt.

When the Usher Foundation first started studying Hawkins, they had Nancy pegged for Beholding. They had, in fact, been preparing to recruit her after she graduated. But hers was not a need to Know; she was never content to simply Watch. She needed to track down leads, she needed the chase. The Usher Foundation knew they lost her completely when she discovered the use of guns. She Hunted criminals and monsters now to help rid the world of evil. Or so she tells herself, even when the story she finds doesn't always paint her victims as monstrous as she wants others to believe.

Then there's Eddie. Eddie Munson grew up knowing people would hurt him for the crime of existing, given half the chance. Poor terrified Eddie, always running, because deep down he knew he was destined for a cruel and painful death. There was no escaping it no matter how fast he ran or how often he hid, the End was waiting for him.

When his time finally came, he was out of his mind with fear because he didn't want to die oh god please not yet, pleaseplease he doesn't want to die. It was such pure delicious Fear that the End made an offer and Eddie grabbed it with both hands in a white-knuckled grip. He's not a murderer; he doesn't have to be because everyone dies regardless, and the End is patient. But he's always there with the End's victims. He's the last thing they see - eyes black as the emptiness of death and a bone white smile - and the last thing they hear is his summation of their pathetic, meaningless lives and the endless emptiness that will follow. Every narration finishes with the gleeful proclamation of "and so Ends the life of..." And it's always gleeful because though Eddie's's destined for the End as much as anyone else, his is not today.

(We could probably include some steddie here; I'm sure some of Steve&Robin's victims were more afraid of the End than the Corruption so Eddie would show up whenever Steve&Robin were on a rampage. Steve likes to listen Eddie narrate the gruesome deaths. He liked it even more when Eddie was done and he would let Steve reel him close.

Eddie, Steve would rasp, ravenous for him, love me. Eddie, love me, lovemeloveme and Eddie would let him press skin to moist hot skin, dry lips chafing against Eddie's cool wet mouth. Eddie would say, yes Steve, always, love you. Steve would press in harder, trying to fuse them into one, more Eddie please please love me more. Eddie would reply with equally hungry fervor every time, yes yes, love you with all of me, i love you just you. God, but Steve reveled in it; it almost filled the starving, bottomless pit of his sickly pounding heart.

Eddie loved it when Steve got clingy. The sheer physicality of his need tethered Eddie against the constant terror the lingered in the edges of his mind where the shadow of the End haunted him. Eddie poured his adoration out through a whispered soliloquy into Steve's ear, detailing how the Corruption was slowly killing him, how he would die from it but that Robin would die with him, they'd leave the world together, and Eddie would be at his side, hands sinking into his spongy, diseased flesh as he held Steve in his final hours. Steve let out the softest, sated sigh every time Eddie did this.

Eddie hopes that when the End finally claims him, it would be through Steve's rotting kiss; a terrible death, he knew, but what bliss it would be to let the affliction of Steve consume him entirely).

Around the same time Eddie reached his awakening, Chrissy Cunningham heard the siren call of the Flesh. It was fascinating, the way she manifested as avatar. She hated her body, was disgusted by it, and this was reinforced my her mother. No matter how little she ate or how often she purged herself, it was never enough until one day she discovered that her hands burned like stomach acid when she touched her body. And like acid, she could suddenly melt and pull her skin like taffy. It hurt, it burned like nothing else she's ever felt but she could finally make her body as skinny and insubstantial as her mother and the rest of the world always wanted it to be.

Her very first victim was her mother. She dug her hands deep into the belly of the woman her birthed her into an imperfect being, and shifted and molded the flesh until she was just as beautiful as she forced Chrissy to be. She threw the extra unnecessary pounds of organs and fat and splintered bone in a heap to the side. She would find use for it later, as more and more victims were drawn to her and her promises to help them find the body they always wanted.

She took joy in the screams of agony she inspired every time she helped someone through a transformation. And once she started pulling someone apart, she never stopped, no matter how much they begged for mercy, until her masterpiece was complete. Because she knows she can make them more gruesomely beautiful and that's worth all the pain they'll feel for the rest of their existence.

In this world, Jonathan never meets Argyle. He was never going to meet Argyle because the fog of the Lonely seeped into his lungs and mind when he was young and never left. His was a curious case, according to the researchers at the Usher Foundation. There was really no reason for the Lonely to have called to him. Yes, he had a verbally abusive father but his mother's love and protective dedication paired with his love for his little brother should've been enough to ward him against it.

Instead, he actively sought solitude from his peers; he would take pictures of them from afar, relishing their distance. The Usher Foundation got some of his photos and noticed that somehow they always depicted the subject slightly blurred and completely alone no matter if they'd been in the middle of a crowd when the picture was taken. He'd send the photos to their subjects sometimes. It had an intriguing effect. The subjects became hyperaware of how Lonely existence truly was. The photos of them became clearer the longer they stared into them; and the sharper their images became, the more the victims faded from existence until finally only a photo of a nameless forgotten person remained.

Jonathan's love for his brother manifested in teaching him how to be Alone, encouraging a pursuit of solitary entertainments like painting. Will's paintings soon became nothing but empty landscapes. Will would wander quiet and unseen to galleries to put them up where people could see them. A specific type of person would be drawn to them. They'd come back to them over and over until they were trapped in those dreary landscapes, doomed to never see another person; to be utterly Forsaken forevermore.

The Usher Foundation is eager to see if the Byers Brothers would become the American equivalent of the Lukas family. Or perhaps the Sinclair siblings would build a family empire to the Web. The younger one, Erica, had a need for control that surpassed anyone her age. She somehow always managed to get her way no matter what situation she found herself in. Meanwhile her brother seemed happy to let others take the lead. He always complied to his sister's commands eventually, though he chafed against her bossy bratty behavior.

He much more happily complied to the demands of one Max Mayfield. They were an odd combination, and were being closely watched by the Usher Foundation to figure out how they worked. Max spent her whole life afraid of the nonsensical violence posed by her stepfather and stepbrother. She was afraid of how they hurt her mother, of how she specifically was targeted by her stepbrother. But then her stepbrother redirected his violence to Lucas Sinclair and Max snapped. Baying for blood, she had taken her skateboard and beat her stepbrother to death.

The Slaughter was not picky when it came to violent murders, so it was confusing that she didn't immediately turn to make Lucas suffer the same fate. Instead she had taken her stepbrother's car and driven back home, where she then took the tire iron and beat both her stepfather and mother until they were nothing but bloody masses of pulp. The Web-touched Sinclairs were able to shift attention and blame so Max got away with it with none the wiser. The Web and Slaughter were nearly opposite sides of the Fear spectrum, and their avatars were never seen together. Yet the Sinclairs and Mayfield were inseparable from that day forward.

Finally there was Dustin Henderson, but the Foundation wasn't worried about him. His thirst for Knowledge has already put many lives at risk on multiple occasions, and not once has he felt any regret afterwards. He always got the Knowledge he wanted, after all. He was of the Eye, through and through. The Usher Foundation already has a scholarship and internship in reserve for him when he graduates high school.

#stranger things #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #birdsongisland #AN : yes nancy is holding the gun in the wrong hand im very aware but also this took me too long #also im never sure about how much detail to put in the id so if you want more detail hmu #bi eddie munson #because it is on the pins but i need yous to know still #also i put some work and research into those mostly vintage queer pins so read them theyre fun #tma au #idk working on will and jonathans rn but im overworked and sleep deprived #give it up for slow artists everyone we suffer

193 notes · View notes