Note: All these fics are included in the Day 1 and Day 2 posts, I'm just reposting for people who want the specific categories
Kai
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28136997/chapters/68942907 — Same People But Not Really
Top-tier fic right here by the glorious @kittydemon9000 (go shower them in positive comments!) with a great Discord, this fantastic fic features our beloved show Kai (Smith) finding himself in the movieverse after Garmadon blasts him with the Megaweapon. Full of fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, and damn good writing, one of my favourite fics of all time :D
In a world where the ninja don't know each other's civilian identities, Kai finds out the identity of his crush, Jay. A fantastic plasma story filled with pining, an oblivious electric boy, and a smashed window or two
A hitman Kai AU full of angst and some hilarious crack as he finesses his way through a labyrinth of underground criminals... and falls for three good-guys along the way who could screw up everything (or even save his life); this great fic was written by the extremely talented @fanfalc-616 who you can go shower in positive comments
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27799876/chapters/68058064 — Time for Amnesia
Another amazingly written fic by @fanfalc-616, this time featuring an amnesiac Kai being utterly (and angrily) baffled by the ninja, some of which (a freaking robot that's totally evil, an annoying idiot, and a kinda scary stick in the mud) claiming to be his boyfriends while another claims to be his younger brother.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25916767 — Cool Down
A fantastic fic about Zane's element as a counterbalance to Kai's in stressful situations, and how a hug can go a long way
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612956/chapters/70128354 — When your love rival is a frog
This one. This one right here is gold (and a personal comfort fic). Movie Kai has had a crush on Jay since, well, forever- but the one thing getting in his way of flat-out proposing is a slimy green frog named Kyle. Brilliantly written and stitches-inducing hilarity ensues.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34723405 — Divided for Keeps
A brilliantly written one-shot based on an AU for SPBNR (the above fic) where Smith lands in the movieverse without his memories and is adopted by Garmadon. All he has is his phone with photos of his family- but when his phone gets smashed by some of the Dorksquad for fear their identities will be revealed to Garmadon, he decides to never again let friends into his heart. Perhaps a certain overheard conversation can change his mind...
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30933857/chapters/76392629 — One Hell of a Summer Job
After a fight with a bully on school grounds, Kai finds himself exiled to manual labour on a farm. He despises everything about the job... except the three cute young farmhands working there
https://archiveofourown.org/works/36502231 — And the Vocab Word of the Day Is...
Someone's taught Zane a word he shouldn't know, and thus we have this hilarious one-shot
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38467489/chapters/96140524 — Keep Your Secrets Near
Another SPBNR inspired fic, this time a pre-curser to Smith's arrival. In this AU, movie!Kai is too injured to become a ninja, and finds his siblings' increasingly concerning behaviour suspicious.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38652201 — The Venomari Venom Incident
Yet another fantastic SPBNR inspired fic, this time featuring so much hilarious shenanigans. When a prank against movie!Lloyd (Green) goes wrong, Smith is doused in venomari venom. Naturally, things go wrong immediately.
https://www.tumblr.com/angeldrawsstuffs/711788606697701377/the-letter?source=share — The Letter
show!Kai, trapped in a Pixie Hollow Movieverse, receives a... short letter from his little brother.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38299120/chapters/95698927 — So A Traumatized Teen And Two Dragons Get Sent Back In Time
Kai finds himself back in the events of the pilots with no memory of how he got there along with two small amnesiac dragons he can suddenly understand (pssst- this one was also written by @kittydemon9000! Go shower their ask box with positivity!)
(also inspired by SPBNR) What if instead of Zane, S11 Kai got zapped to the movieverse instead of the Neverrealm? Struggling with missing his family, the temptation of the staff, and his weakened powers, Kai must figure out how to get home while befriending this universe's ninja-- a struggle all of its own
https://archiveofourown.org/works/39091860/chapters/97792278 — Walk a Mile
A fun bodyswap fic featuring Kai & Jay learning to tolerate each other
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40019130/chapters/100220688 — SPBNR pero ahora Smith es un gato :D (Spanish)
And yet ANOTHER amazing SPBNR inspired fic, this time featuring Cat!Smith :D This one is in Spanish!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238865 — An Impromptu Little Brother
You want RG siblings fluff? You've got it! This adorable fic showcases the sweet bonding of S1 Kai and Lloyd
During the reign of Emperor Chen, Elemental Masters are outlawed. Morro escapes from an experimental facility but finds himself handcuffed to Kai, who failed to capture him again. When Morro reveals that the ninja don't know the whole story, the two go on the run and build a team of elemental masters to take down Chen for good
Angst
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404622/chapters/35752608 — Lost in the Void
In which Jay discovers a secret new power to his element and everything goes great(?) from there
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298904/chapters/69342846 — From a Laboratory
In which Zane is an digital AI that suddenly finds himself uploaded to a physical body and must unwind a spiralling conspiracy of hidden human experiments
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490180 — Home Is Where You Are
Movieverse Lloyd gets stabbed and his cousin Morro wants to stab people as a result- a hurt/comfort fic
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700081/chapters/67792351 — Your Mistakes Are Yours to Keep (BEING REWRITTEN)
Post Skybound angst my beloved
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156273/chapters/60957967 — Sit Still, Look Pretty
A Detroit: Become Human style AU where newly built Zane is 'gifted' to the ninja... who begin to suspect there may be more to the android than meets the eye
Pairing: Kai x Reader
Prompt Werewolf
Word Count: 1K
~Admin V
Hunters just slayed your entire family. You were running in the forest. You didn’t think they were following you. They probably didn’t see you.
You felt confusion. Pain. Why? Why did they come for your pack? Your family was of the born, not the bitten. There was only peace. Your mother, the alpha, was even seen as a leader to other packs and was often sought for aid and wisdom.
She was dead now. Everyone was dead. That made you the alpha.
You weren’t sure of where you were running, just far away from them. That’s when you smelled him. Another were, but not one you knew. Normally other packs didn’t take too kindly to trespassing, but you had no choice. You followed the scent. If you were lucky it would be a beta and recognize that even though unwelcome, to hold some regard for an alpha.
You could hear them. They were camping. Not in were form. Probably for the best if hunters were following you, though, your brothers weren’t either when their blood was spilt.
You stopped. You picked up 3 scents, all male, but only one was were. That meant the others with him might not know wolf’s blood ran through his veins. You couldn’t appear to them as the wolf you were running as now.
If he was a beta, he might think your howling was a threat. You stopped a few yards away from their camp and became human again. Not your best plan, but again, not many options for you at the moment. It was cold, but being a naked female was sure to get the attention of 3 young men, and hopefully distract the 2 humans so you could try to communicate with the were.
You walked through leaves and tried to avoid sticks and rocks.
“Hey, do you hear something?” one of the humans asked.
“Quit playing, man.”
“No really, listen.”
You purposely dragged your feet so they would all be waiting for you to appear. You walked past a tree and revealed yourself at the edge of camp.
It worked. All of their mouths were dropped and eyes were on you. You instantly recognized the were, and judging from his face, he knew you to be one as well.
“You shouldn’t be out here.” He was definitely upset about invasion of territory.
“Are you alright?” his friend asked.
You glanced at the humans. They were distracted by your bare chest. The were was looking at your eyes. Perfect. You made them glow.
His anger fell. “Alpha.” It was barely audible, but you heard it.
You nodded then looked at the human who asked.
“My friends and I were swimming by the lake. They thought it would be funny to take my clothes and leave me to walk back naked. I’m directionally challenged though. I’ve been wandering for hours.”
“Shit,” the human who asked stood up and took off his coat. “You must be freezing.” He offered it to you.
“Thank you.”
“Sure. I have some extra clothes, lemme go get them from my tent.”
“Thank you, that would be nice.”
The were kicked the other human in the shin.
“Ouch. I mean, uh, I’ll get some more sticks for the fire.”
“Great idea,” the were said.
When the humans were gone, he came close to you. “Who are you?”
“I’m from the Lionheart pack.”
“Lionheart? That’s Taeyeon’s pack.” You saw the realization flash in his eyes. “You’re an alpha. She’s dead.”
“They’re all dead. Hunters just attacked us. I’m all that’s left.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
The human with clothing came out of his tent. You smiled as he handed you clothes.
“Sehun, go find Chanyeol and tell him not to worry about firewood. I think we need to leave camp to take her home.”
“Sure.” He nodded and went looking for the other human.
The were looked to you again. “Did they follow you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Why did you come here?”
“I smelled you. Look, I wasn’t exactly next in line for alpha, I don’t know what any protocols are for when an entire pack is slain. But if I am still being hunted, I need help. Please.”
He looked you square in the eye. He could hear in your heartbeat that you were being sincere and telling the truth.
“Okay. I can take you to Suho. He’ll know what to do.”
“Suho? You’re an Exodus?”
He nodded. “Kai.”
You shared your name with him as well.
“Go get dressed. We’ll clean up camp and head out.”
“Thank you, Kai.”
After getting dressed you helped them to pack up their belongings and put out the fire. Kai dropped the humans off, then continued driving to see Suho.
“Do your friends know.”
“No,” he stared at the road. “They will soon enough. Suho wants to turn them, and if hunters just took out your pack, it will be happening a lot sooner than planned.
You wiped at your eyes.
Kai noticed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I haven’t been able to process anything yet. The last thing I saw was my brother, Changmin, fall. He saw me and told me to run. And now here were are.”
“Taeyoon came to Suho a few weeks ago. She said she thought a storm was coming. I guess she was right.”
“What kind of storm. She never said any of this to my pack.” You paused, “Well, I never heard anything.”
“I’m not sure. I’m not exactly in the high tier of the pack either. But you guys are different than other packs. You don’t bite anyone. Why would hunters want you dead?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
He pulled into a long driveway. “It’ll be a few more minutes.”
“Thank you, Kai. Really. If I wouldn’t have found you . . . if you wouldn’t have helped me . . . I might be as dead as the rest of them.”
“I guess I should be thanking you. You just came with warning to the other packs that a war is coming.”
You wiped at your eyes again. “What will we do? If they killed my family, nothing is stopping them form killing yours.”
He parked the car and reached for your hand. “We’ll call our ally packs. We’ll protect each other. We’ll fight.”
You looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to die.”
He squeezed your hand. “Let’s go talk to Suho. He’ll know what to do.”
When you were told Prince Jongin volunteered at the soup kitchen, you openly laughed. Prince Jongin, one of the most gorgeous men in existence, volunteered at a soup kitchen? Unlikely. There were a hundred other things he could be doing with his time, you highly doubted he tended to some needy people.
Life bit you in the ass when he showed up, dressed in simple clothing and with a soft smile. For someone volunteering to feed the poor and homeless, he looked like a god. You refused to be near him. Being near someone that gorgeous would leave you blushing and shookth. So you stayed away, focusing on the people in front of you.
Every now and then, you would sneak a glance at him. And every time he would be smiling and talking to the people. His people. Your heart swooned at the sight.
“He’s quite an attractive young man.” You turned to see an old lady standing in front of you, giving you a toothless smile. You nodded in agreement. “You two would be very cute together,” she told you. You coughed awkwardly, hoping he didn’t hear what she said. She chuckled, patting your cheek before walking away.
You shook your head, clearing away the embarrassment she had just instilled onto you. You loved old people to death, but they could be a bit blunt. Guess it came with age. You laughed quietly to yourself imagining you at her age saying that to someone your age.
You bit your lip, daring to glance at Prince Jongin. You wished you hadn’t. The old lady was talking to him and he was staring at you. You locked eyes for a brief three seconds. Then he sent you a smile and you dropped your gaze, cheeks burning.
Your friend bugged you about the incident for days. She begged for details and gossip, even though there were no detail or gossip. You saw each other, old people like to embarrass younger people, Prince Jongin flashed you (along with every patron) an award winning smile. You bet his smile could cure any illness.
“He’s so handsome and kind and wow. I’m jealous you got to see him, and I’m pissed you didn’t talk to him,” she huffed. You shrugged, scrolling through your phone. “Seriously! You guys could have had such a romantic moment! I mean, it’s not like meeting at a café, or an art museum, or in a park on a cloudy day where you could have bumped into each other, and he would have apologized helping you up--”
You tuned her out, attempting not to fall off her bed laughing. No more rom-coms for the two of you, especially if she was going to go off on tangents like this.
A few days later, said friend called you, claiming she was too sick to go to the orphanage and help, but they really needed volunteers. She begged you to go in her place because the girls were really looking forward to this.
“You don’t sound sick,” you told her as you slipped on some comfortable shoes.
You heard her gasp on the other side of the line.
“Would you like to hear me throw up? Will that convince you? Because I’ll go throw up right now and I will let you hear just how sick I am,” she threatened.
“Please don’t,” you said cringing at her words.
“Good. Now don’t be late. And make sure you look cute!”
“Why do I need to look cute?” you inquired.
“Do you want to have a bunch of six-to-eight year old girls give you makeover?” she asked in return.
“Good point.”
Arriving at the doors of the orphanage, you were immediately greeted by dozens of small arms wrapping around you. The children absolutely adored visitors, but they idolized you. They asked you so many questions, some very, very, very personal questions. You diverted their attention by playing hairdresser.
You were braiding a little girl’s hair when she let out a squeal. Along with every other girl in the room. Glancing up, you saw him. Prince Jongin was here. Being handsome, sweet and caring. That’s why your friend was playing sick. She knew Prince Jongin would be here.
And… was he approaching you? Yes. Yes he was, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Until he was right in front of you, the poor lighting making him look like an angel.
“Hi.”
Prince Jongin was talking. To you. Speak Y/N, speak!
“Uh, hi your--”
“Kai,” he quickly interjected, waving to the little girl who's hair you were doing. She giggled, waving back shyly. “And you’re…”
“Y/N,” you told him. He smiled and you could have melted into a puddle right then and there. Oh, why did his smile have to be so welcoming? Why couldn’t he be cheesy? Why did he have to be so damn genuine? He stood there, hands in his pockets as his brown orbs stared into your own.
“Is Y/N your princess?” asked one of the little girls. You choked on air, hand over heart. Apparently old people weren’t the only one who like to say uncomfortable things. You were about to say something, but Prince Jongin, or Kai, spoke for you.
“Yes, she is. In fact, we travel around and help people all over,” he told her sitting on the bed. The girls gathered around the two of you, staring at Kai with stars in their eyes. You were probably staring at him the same way. “Princess Y/N and I are traveling around the kingdom, making people everywhere happy.” He grabbed your hand smiling and intertwined your fingers.
Your heart stopped. Was this a heart attack? Or a stroke? You stared at your clasped hands, eyes wide and face flushed. The girls squealed and giggled, fawning over the two of you. You fought back a grin as Kai talked to the girls. He was so good with children. He’d make a great dad one day.
No. Not the time to be fantasizing about the freaking Prince. Weren’t you a smart one. You inwardly scolded yourself as Kai went to play with the girls. You guys chilled until dusk, when the girls had to get ready for bed.
The Prince escorted you out of the girls’ room and towards the front door. “Sorry if I, uh, if I made you uncomfortable,” he told you scratching the back of his head. “It’s just I remembered seeing you a week ago, at the soup kitchen.”
“You remembered me?” you asked shocked. He grinned sheepishly, nodding his head. “Why? How?” You were honestly amazed Prince Jongin, who probably had hundreds of princesses fighting for his attention, remembered you.
“I just--well--uh, you were helpful, and you seemed happy to be there. Plus you’re really beautiful,” he added under his breath. You chuckled awkwardly, staring at the ground.
He stopped just before the front door, turning to you. He was staring at the ground, laughing awkwardly. “I know this is weird and sudden, but there’s this reading next week, and I was just--you know--wondering if, maybe, you would attend? With me?” he inquired.
You stared at him, mouth slightly open. His shoulders drooping snapped you out of your stooper. “Yes!” you shouted. He jumped back. “Sorry. Yes. I would love to go to a reading with you,” you assured him.
He grinned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Great, I’ll pick you up at three. Good evening, Princess Y/N.” You grinned back.
A/N: This is chapter 4 of a finished fic, the links for which can be found on my mistresslist.
Monsieur Kim crouched next to you, as you wordlessly looked up at him, eyes filled with distressed censure.
“I had to,” he said simply. “Despite the past…I’d not consign you to this shadowed half-existence, if I had the power to avert it.”
Monsieur Boudreaux moved quickly, coming to stand between you, and your attacker.
Closing your eyes, you collapsed flat against the ground, too exhausted and pained to do more than concentrate on breathing. You brought a trembling hand once more to the stake but, seeing your movement out of the corner of his eye, Monsieur Boudreaux half turned his face to you, saying, “Leave it in, chère fille. If you take it out now, without feeding, you will bleed to death.”
With a conciliatory air, he turned back to the stranger, who had made no attempts to leave, saying, “I apologize for my ward’s impertinence, monsieur; you can assign her lack of manners to my charge.”
“She robbed me of my gustation, sir.”
“What were you eating?”
The stranger shrugged. “Just some girl.”
Monsieur Boudreaux nodded, and spread his hands apologetically. “Eh, bien, you see, she’s rather sensitive to that sort of thing.” He looked around, consideringly. “However…the night is young. I’m sure that you’ll quickly be able to find something to eat, if you leave now.”
The man smiled. “Just so. However, I’m not inclined to let this discourtesy stand. My grievance is with her, not you. Give her to me, and I’ll be on my way.”
Monsieur Boudreaux shook his head, a rueful smile ghosting about his mouth. “I’ve already named her my ward…therefore you are fully aware that I cannot do that.”
Smiling again, the stranger answered, “Perhaps, sir. But now my blood is up, and your little ward didn’t provide me with enough of a fight to cool my ire.”
Nodding again, Monsieur Boudreaux looked at the ground. With a powerful spring, he was suddenly upon the man, his large hand wrapped around the shorter man’s throat. Eyes wide, he asked, in an eerily calm voice, “Is this enough fight for you, monsieur” before digging his claws into the man’s neck, and ripping out part of his spine, through his throat.
The man’s blood pattered in an arc across the square, across your face, and you started in dreadful revulsion, but couldn’t draw in enough breath to scream. This was so much more brutal, so much more visceral than your way.
Monsieur Kim was still crouched next to you, his expression grim, as you both watched Monsieur Boudreaux calmly drag the stranger’s body, by his ruined neck, over to you. As he approached, you saw in mounting horror that the man was still alive, his head flopping grotesquely, his jaw working as if he were trying to speak.
You tried to drag yourself away, but your arms merely skittered across the cobblestones.
Monsieur Kim rose suddenly, putting his body between you, and the approaching Monsieur Boudreaux. “What is the meaning of this, sir?”
“Step aside, or I will walk right through you, miserable spectre,” Monsieur Boudreaux pronounced, his tone dismissive.
Monsieur Kim set his jaw. “Stop! Can you not see that you’re terrifying her?”
“This, fantôme, is the only way to save her!”
After taking a moment to search Monsieur Boudreaux’s eyes, Monsieur Kim stepped aside.
Monsieur Boudreaux crouched in front of you, wrapping his other hand around the stake, and abruptly pulling it out and throwing it away.
Your body jerked at its removal, and blood started to spurt from the wound in earnest, pouring down your shoulders to pool beneath you on the ground. Fiery pain roared through your breast, and your vision began to darken.
Monsieur Boudreaux took the man, and unceremoniously shoved his throat into your mouth. Convulsively, you swallowed, but then tried to turn your head. Monsieur Boudreaux stroked your hair, crooning, “Non, non, ma petite, this is what you need to become well. A human would be better, but this will have to do.”
You closed your mouth, refusing to drink, turning your head from the ruin of the man who had attacked you.
Tutting, Monsieur Boudreaux remonstrated, “Ma chère, I’ve no desire to force you, but I will.”
Looking up, you caught Monsieur Kim’s eye. He nodded once, grimly. You shook your head.
“Do it,” he said, his voice low.
You closed your eyes, and clenched your teeth, fighting against the almost overwhelming desire to grab the man by the hair, bury your face into his neck, and drink until he was no more than dry bones. Then you heard it.
Opening your eyes, your gaze met Monsieur Kim’s, and he was on his knees beside you, his expression stricken.
Closing your eyes from the gruesome sight before you, you turned, opened your mouth, and drank.
***
You opened your eyes to an unfamiliar room. Sitting up, you looked around to see Monsieur Kim sitting in a chair in the corner.
His attention snapped to you as soon as you sat up, and he stood and walked over, sitting beside you and reaching for your hands, before realization came over his face, and he subsided.
“Where am I?” you queried.
He grimaced. “You’re in Monsieur Boudreaux’s home. He carried you here, after…the incident.”
Eyes widening in shock, you threw back the covers, and stood, only to waver, and fall back to the bed. A familiar pain that you hadn’t felt in months clawed its way up your stomach, and seized your throat, and you groaned.
“Mademoiselle!” Monsieur Kim exclaimed. “Are you still unwell? Please, sit still for a moment, and compose yourself.”
“Monsieur Kim,” you panted, eyes glazed with pain as you looked up at him. “Do you hate me this much? Why didn’t you let this wretched existence end when there was a chance?”
His face paled, and his expression was nothing short of horrified. He shook his head, eyes never leaving yours, as his face became stern, almost angry. “Mademoiselle, you will not say anything like that ever again, do you hear? I forbid it!”
“Forbid?” You laughed mirthlessly. “I detest what I am! You detest what I am. You asked me not to leave you alone, but what else is keeping you here? It only makes sense that upon my demise, you will be set free!”
“I refuse to hear any more of this nonsense!”
You turned away. “Then leave.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because you’re still hurt.”
“I’ll be fine!” you growled bitterly. “That’s just it. No matter what happens, I’m always fine! So, go!”
“I’m not leaving.”
“I wish to be alone.”
“I care not.”
“Why won’t you leave me to be miserable in peace?!”
“Because I still love you!”
You stopped breathing, your eyes wide, as you stared at each other.
The door opened, and in strode Monsieur Boudreaux. “Finally, you’re awake!”
“Finally?!” you echoed, still dumbfounded over Monsieur Kim’s confession. Dazedly, you inquired, “How long have I been here?”
“A number of days,” Monsieur Kim answered.
Face blanching, you struggled once more to rise. “My parents! How can I ever explain? I–”
“Calm yourself, chérie,” Monsieur Boudreaux crooned. “I spoke to that lady’s maid of yours, and she has concocted a story about your being sick in your room, all this time, with the congestive fever. She has remained in your room, to ostensibly tend to you.”
“You spoke to Cosette?”
“I told him that she knows,” Monsieur Kim said.
“A jewel, that one,” Monsieur Boudreaux mused.
A sudden cramping in your gut doubled you over, and you cried out, clawing at the coverlet. It was growing difficult to think, much less speak.
Monsieur Boudreaux tsked. “This is why finding a human would have been better. Alas, we did not have the time. It has been a number of days since you have been able to eat, however, and if you don’t do it soon, your body will do it for you.”
Monsieur Kim looked up in alarm.
Laughing softly at his expression, Monsieur Boudreaux nodded. “That is the way of it. If we do not feed while we can, the mind shuts down, we become no better than beasts, and we eat the first thing we come across. However, no one should know that better than you, hein, mon ami?”
Monsieur Kim’s face reddened, and he growled, “You are altogether vile, Boudreaux!”
“Yet, I am here, and you are not,” Monsieur Boudreaux taunted. “At least…not in any way that truly matters.”
Panting, shaking, a fine sheen of sweat covering your skin, you tried to rise. “Be silent, monsieur!” you grated as you pushed yourself once more off of the bed.
“Do not overtax yourself,” he crooned. “I have something for you.”
A sigh of relief ghosted past your lips, and you sank back bonelessly to the bed.
He left the room, but was back in a moment, with something in his arms. When he drew closer, and you saw what it was, both you and Monsieur Kim leapt back, unadulterated horror on your faces. You pushed yourself into the furthest corner of the room, digging your claws into the plaster, in an effort to lock yourself in place. “Monsieur,” you started, your voice hollow and breathless. Unable to finish, for the combined abhorrence and pain that clogged your throat, you just wordlessly shook your head, in desperation.
“You are no gentleman!” Monsieur Kim thundered, placing his body in front of yours, so that you would not have to see what Boudreaux held in his arms. “You, sir, are a villain! Nothing more than a depraved fiend!”
You closed your eyes, trying to shut out the world. The hunger, the yelling, the horror, the tempting scent. For what Boudreaux held in his arms. What he gently placed on the bed–
–was your precious little Angeline.
The noxious odour of the same chemical that had been used on you, all those months ago, rose up, choking you with its panic-inducing scent.
“What have you done?” you whimpered, heart pounding against your ribs.
“I? I’ve merely brought you your much needed dinner. Now, be a good dear, and have something to eat.” Boudreaux replied.
“Non. Non. Non, non, non, non, non!” you shrieked, your voice escalating in panic. “Take her away! Take her back!”
“I understand that you have developed a penchant for the child, but the fact remains that if you do not eat soon, you will go, forgive the lack of a better term, quite rabid.”
“That child is her charge!” Monsieur Kim shouted, his strong voice the only thing currently anchoring you to your sanity. “How dare you suggest she commit such a revolting abomination!”
“This child is what is standing between her, and good health. She is unconscious; she will feel no pain.” Boudreaux’s voice was dismissive.
“Take her back!” you rasped, having even lost the energy to scream.
Boudreaux’s eyes narrowed. “I will not! You are so stubborn! Just like your arrière grand-mère!”
You shook your head at the non sequitur.
Monsieur Kim took over for you. “What the devil are you talking about, Boudreaux?”
“You knew…my…” you coughed, the sweet scent of Angeline’s blood flowing in her veins, making you swallow convulsively.
“Knew her?” he asked, his voice quiet. “I loved her!”
Your eyes shot to his.
His face was red, and his breathing was elevated. Running a finger under his collar, he turned, and raked his hands through his hair, making it stand on end.
The distraction of his distress gave you a precious modicum of control, and you rose with effort.
Monsieur Kim came to stand beside you, and though you couldn’t lean on him, you were grateful for the comfort of his mere presence. “Explain this!” you demanded.
Boudreaux was quiet for a moment. When he turned to you, his eyes were sad as he looked between you, and Monsieur Kim. “Oui, I knew her.”
“Did you own her?” Your voice was biting.
A sharp crack reverberated around the room, and your cheek stung. You hadn’t even seen him approach. Turning slowly, you met Boudreaux’s eyes, but his intense gaze didn’t falter under your own.
Monsieur Kim stepped between you, and shoved. Boudreaux’s body went flying across the room, and you gasped in surprise. “Jonginah!” He turned to you, his eyes dark, as he brought his hand to your reddened cheek. When he went to touch it, however, it passed through, and he looked infinitely sad.
Boudreaux lay in a crumpled heap in the corner, staring up at the ceiling, a tear slowly trailing down his cheek. Sighing, he shook his head. “Own her?” He laughed ruefully. “Geneviève was une femme de couleur librée, as you well know.”
You looked past Jongin to where Boudreaux was still lying. “I know she died early. Did you…?”
His smile was bitter. “After her husband, your arrière grand-père, died, I became her protecteur and, whatever you may think, we loved each other. I wanted to spirit her away from this accursed place–with its unholy, abominable laws–take her North. I wanted,” his jaw worked as he cried soundlessly. “I wanted to marry her! I loved her, ma foi, how I did love her! Mais, alas!” He shook his head. “One day, I was out riding, and my horse spooked and threw me. I fell, and hit my head, and by the time they were able to bring me home, I was already dying. Unbeknownst to me, my grandfather was…one of us. We just always thought that he was possessed of a particularly hale constitution. Of course, he couldn’t bear the thought of the death of his grandson, and so…” Boudreaux languidly waved a hand, then fell silent.
“And so?” Jongin prompted, turning his head slightly to Boudreaux, though his eyes never left your face.
Boudreaux sighed. “And so. He had never approved of plaçage, and so he left me to wake up…with Geneviève.”
You gasped, and Jongin turned back to you.
“You know, ma chère. You know what it’s like to awaken. You know nothing except hunger. You are nothing but hunger. And so…”
“You killed her,” you whispered.
“‘You said I killed you–haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe–I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always–take any form–drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!’ ” Boudreaux finally turned to you, a mirthless smile grotesquely stretching his face, as tears ran down his cheeks. “Eh, bien, you know what that’s like, n’est-ce pas?”
Jongin’s eyes were tragic, as they ran over your face.
Overwhelmed, you shook your head. Rushing forward, you snatched up Angeline into your arms, and then ran down the stairs, and out of that accursed house.
***
Upon reaching your home, and climbing the stairs, you collapsed against your door. Cosette opened it, gasping upon seeing you with Angeline in your arms. “Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle! She whispered, shaking you.
You didn’t have the strength to respond.
Cosette dragged you both into the room, but before she could close the door, Jongin was there. She covered her mouth just in time to muffle her scream.
“Cosette! It is imperative that you listen to everything that I have to say!” he said.
She nodded, her eyes wide, as she tried not to panic.
Jongin explained everything, and by the time he was done, Cosette had fallen to her knees beside you, gently trying to wrest Angeline from your arms.
You growled, and she shrank back.
Then, swallowing, and summoning her courage, she crawled forward once more, crooning, “Mademoiselle, it is your own Cosette. Sweet mademoiselle, give Cosette le bébé, hein?” She stroked your shoulder, and slowly, slowly pulled Angeline from your arms. Lifting her, she left the room.
She returned shortly, walking around Jongin to crouch next to you.
“Why are you back so soon?” Jongin asked her. “I’ve already told you that she needs something to eat!”
“I understood, m’sieur,” she said distantly.
You could hear them talking, but the sound came from far away. You stared listlessly.
“Well then, go and fetch your mistress something before falls into an even worse state!”
“M’sieur… Leave, s’il vous plâit.”
“What?! Why would I–? Oh, no! No! Absolutely not! Do you even know what you’re suggesting?! She can’t control herself when she’s like this!”
Cosette stood, raising determined eyes up to his. “She is my mistress, and I am, and will ever be, her loyal Cosette.” She advanced upon him, and he retreated instinctively. With one last look up into his eyes, Cosette set her jaw, and closed the door.
***
You were walking through your house, but no one was home. Every door was open, and late afternoon sunlight shone through all the windows, making the house glow with a golden light. Wandering from room to room, you looked for someone, but you weren’t sure whom. Upon reaching your room, you found a young woman sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, slowly rocking, and crocheting. When you drew closer, you saw that what she was creating what appeared to be the blanket that you normally kept over your bed.
She looked up at you and, despite her countenance, you felt no surprise, only calm. She had your face. Her skin was darker, the rich colour of warm honey, and the curls that tumbled over her shoulders, and down her back were tighter, but other than that, she could have been you.
Tilting her head, she smiled. Mon bébé. Do you like your coverlet? She didn’t speak, but you knew her words, all the same.
You nodded.
Come have a seat by me, ma chère.
Sitting beside her on the floor, you rested your head upon her lap, your cheek against the familiar soft cotton of your blanket.
I’m glad that you can finally hear me, chère. I’ve been calling you pour un longtemps. She began to lovingly stroke your hair. I can’t stay long, mon coeur.
You nodded again, sadly. I know.
Understand, you mustn’t be too cross with Bastien. He wasn’t always as you know him. When we were young, he was…beautiful. So gentle…kind…unfailingly courteous, to everyone–slave and free. He never even raised his voice to his horse, much less a person. Her face was infinitely sad. He used to recite poetry. He would spend entire afternoons reading stories of love to me. However, years alone have twisted him, made him into something he was never meant to be. You’ll have to free him, mon ange.
Raising your head, you looked at her askance.
She reached out to gently caress your curls. Listen. Remember. A sire’s blood can heal the first victim of his ward.
Then, why didn’t he do that for you?
Her eyes were sad. He didn’t know. And even if he had, he wasn’t a murderer, much less of his own dear grand-père. Even if he had known, I never would have asked it of him.
Why do you tell me this?
Find your Jongin.
Jonginah is dead. I killed him. You were bitter.
Not dead, chère.
He sleeps.
If you want the latest updates, and links for easier reading, then follow me @vampwrrr.
Description: You were no where near your destination but you were already beyond satisfied with how the day had gone.
Word count: 2,470
Rating: M (smut, swearing)
Pairing: Kim Jongin x Reader (first person)
Notes: this is the first time I’ve ever attempted to write anything, it just happened to be smut.
I’m a hopeless driver and that’s all there is to it; I never wanted to learn how to drive but I was forced in to it as it became necessity. Since I’m so bad at driving, I like to have no distractions so I can avoid the nervous wreck I become when I have to focus on something other than the road while in the car so as you can imagine, allowing Kim Jongin to sit in the passenger seat while I drove was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
It all started quite innocent, his hand resting on my thigh as I drove along the highway at a steady, even pace with no problems in sight. However, a small alarm bell went off inside of me when his hand began to wander, seemingly drawing small patterns on my thigh.
“Jongin, please could you keep still, I just need to pay attention to the road right now” I sweetly said, giving him a quick glance and a flash of a smile before immediately diverting my eyes back on to the road.
“But jagi, I’m soo bored, you won’t even let me have the radio on! the road is just straight for ageees, I can’t see what the problem is,” he whined in reply, his hand dangerously getting higher up my leg until it reached the hem of my shorts, where his fingers began to fiddle with the fabric.
When I next glanced at him, I was no longer smiling, it was more of a glare. “I know you might be bored, but we only have half an hour left to go, please just behave,” I felt like I was scolding a little kid, but no child would respond like Jongin did.
His left arm that was on my thigh slipped around my shoulders and he leant across the middle section of the car, nestling his head in to my neck as he brought his other hand to rest on my thigh.
“Don’t want to,” he murmured in to my neck, planting a small kiss where he spoke. The vibrations of his voice were already doing things to me. So there I was, eyes wide in fear as I tried incredibly hard to solely focus on the road while Jongin had his left arm draped over my shoulders and his right hand on my thigh, torturing me with the slow patterns he was drawing with his finger tips.
Unfortunately, my legs were already slightly open as my feet rested on the pedals in the car so that pretty much granted him free access to which he took full advantage of and he slipped his hand on to the inside of my thigh.
“Jongin you are not doing this right now, first, you insisted I drove despite knowing how much I hate it and now you’re trying to kill us both,” I snapped at him, trying to wriggle my legs up and down to try and get him to remove his hand. All this did was cause a low chuckle to emerge from him as he inhaled deeply on my neck, rubbing his nose gently on my collar bone and placing another sloppy kiss there.
“Jagi, you just need to relax a bit,” he chuckled again as he moved his body even closer to mine, allowing his left arm that was around my shoulders to stoop down to my chest. Without warning, he took ahold of my breast and gave it a harsh squeeze, causing me to gasp and jolt out in reflex; slamming my foot on the accelerator which sent us forward rather quickly.
“Jongin I swear to fucking god, if you don’t stop I’m never letting you sit next to me in a car again” I said, quickly slowing back to a normal pace as his left hand carried on with the grabbing and kneading it was doing. I let out an audible gulp as he moved his mouth to the front of my neck, causing me to lift my head so I could see the traffic which granted him even more access to me.
“Baby, are you saying it’s completely fine for you to give me head while I’m driving, but as soon as I try and return the favour, I’m in the wrong?” He laughed, starting to suck softly on my neck, going straight to my sweet spot which he had memorised so well. The panic alarms were in full swing now as I momentarily closed my eyes as he carelessly toyed with me: his left hand having it’s way with my breast, slipping through the top of my shirt and caressing it through my bra, his right hand slipping under the edge of my loose cotton shorts and making it’s way ever closer to my heat. And his mouth. Oh god his mouth. His teeth grazed my neck as his tongue danced on my sweet spot in a spectacular fashion which left me a whimpering mess.
“Jongin-ah,” I gulped, “Jongin you know damn well this is a very different circumstance as you actually requested the head and can drive very well, now, while I may be enjoying this, I’m afraid I can’t let you carry on your show if you want us both to live,” I had returned to a sweeter approach as I seemed to be getting no where with snapping at him, it just seemed to make him progress quicker.
“But jagiyaaaa I’m soo bored,” he nipped my neck, causing me to gasp again. And my knees locked together when I felt his right hand reach the hem of my panties. I tried my hardest to keep my feet on the correct pedals as my knees and thighs rived around, and my hips bucked forward as they had a mind of their own. His long index finger stroked over the thin, lacy material, up and down- applying light pressure and pausing at where my clit would be and he gave it a harsh flick. Well, at this point, I was practically choking trying to stop myself from crying out as every reaction I gave him caused him to laugh and push my limits even further. His left hand had somehow managed to undo my bra and he had full access to both my breasts and he was pinching my nipples, massaging the flesh with the palm of his hand.
“Jongin, everyone that’s driving next to us can see, please stop, I’ll never tease you again, I’ll always do as you say, I’ll buy you as much chicken as you like?” I tried again, but it was hopeless. He now had two fingers dipped in to my panties and they were mercilessly rubbing at my clit in circles as my hips pushed themselves towards his hand and I used all the strength I had to keep both my hands on the steering wheel and both feet in the correct place. My knuckles turned white as my death grip on the steering wheel got tighter. Suddenly, his long finger had entered me, causing an incredibly loud moan to escape my lips. Jongins head snapped up from my neck, presumably to see what kind of bliss I was in, which would enlarge his ego since he had me in such a state.
“You’re so cute when you beg jagi, but gosh, you’re so wet, are you sure it’s safe for you to be driving?” The smirk was so clear in his voice, tempting me to look at him, luckily, I somehow managed not to because lord knows what kind of catastrophic crash we’d have been in if I had.
“Actually Jongin, we have just come up to a service station, so get the fuck off me while I go get some damn coffee,” I snapped, pulling in to the large service station, slamming the breaks on as I found an appropriate parking spot. I tore myself away from him and swung my door open glaring at him as I fiddled my bra out of my shirt and threw it at him in anger. I then slammed my door and marched off and I could hear his loud laughter as I ran in to the safety of the services.
Several minutes later, after cooling myself off a bit, I returned to the car with an iced coffee to find Jongin in the drivers seat with my bra in his hands. I glared at him as I made my way around the car and got in hastily, putting my coffee in the cup holder and crossing my arms in a temper. A pout was evident on my face as I stared ahead, pretending not to acknowledge Jongin staring at me as he tried to stop his laughs. He brought his hand back to my thigh and I slapped it away harshly.
“Just drive, Jongin, I’m not in the mood” I said, still not looking at him.
“I think we both know that’s a lie, considering how wet you were ten minutes ago,” he grinned.
I turned my head towards him; ready to snap again and instantly regretted it as I knew that once I met his eyes that I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself. “We’re meant to be going to see Jongdae, I don’t want to leave him waiting,” I whispered, my eyes not moving from looking at his lustful ones.
“Well I guess we’ll have to make this quick then, plus I can think of many ways of making it up to Jongdae,” he winked, already moving his seat back to allow us more room as he knew I’d given in. His hands circled my waist and he pulled me on to him so that I was straddling his legs.
“Luckily you chose a very private spot jagi, it’s almost as if you knew this was going to happen,” he mocked me, quickly pulling my shirt over my head, leaving my top completely bare as he attacked my breasts with kisses. I could feel his hard on beneath me and I slowly moved my hips back and forth to cause some sort of friction. He growled in response and moved his mouth to my lips, kissing me hungrily, “yeah, I don’t think there’s any need to prolong this any further,” he was already breathless and the urgency in his voice was clear as I leant back on the steering wheel to give us both room to wriggle free of our shorts.
Once we were both free of our restraints, jongin let his seat lie back and he reached forwards to grab me and we both fell back on to the seat messily. “Please ride me jagi,” he uttered, not really giving me any choice since we were in such a perfect position for it. I grabbed the condom from his jeans and slid it down his member with little difficulty. Next, I positioned his hard on below me and slowly lowered myself on to him and the car was full of our moans as I slid down.
I sat there for a few seconds, giving myself a chance to adjust and I threw my head back in pleasure. Jongin clearly grew impatient as he gave my ass a light slap which was followed by a mumbled “move” which I could barely make out through his groans. It was my turn to laugh as I looked down at him, he looked like he’d passed out, his head was tilted back, his mouth was wide open and his eyes were shut tight.
I leant forwards and supported myself with my hands at either side of him on the chair. This pleased Jongin as it allowed him to have one hand on my breast and another on my hip. “You’re so fucking hot up there,” he slurred, looking up through heavy eyelids.
I quickly began to move my hips up and down, glad to finally have some friction. I cried out as Jongin gripped my hip roughly in support but also guided me to lift myself up, before he dragged me back down and he threw his hips up harshly, already going as deep as possible. We then picked up a steady pace, mainly controlled by his guiding hand but every now and then he’d surprise me with a deep thrust which made the knot in my stomach to grow incredibly fast.
“J-jongin, uh, I’m so,” i gasped out as he’d brought the hand that was on my breast to my clit, moving his fingers in quick circles.
“You were saying jagi?” He chuckled and opened his eyes, “hey, open your eyes and look at me, I want to see how hard I make you come,” his voice dripping with confidence.
“Asshole,” I grinned as I opened my eyes, struggling to keep them open as my muscles tensed and I became a complete mess as I let myself go, crying out Jongin’s name as he carried on thrusting in to me through my orgasm.
“Oh babe you just got so-” the end of his sentence was cut off by loud profanities as he reached his own orgasm, his thrusts gradually became sloppier as he emptied himself in to me.
After, we just sat gazing at each other for a few seconds, breathing heavily. We were then interrupted by my phone which I quickly grabbed and saw the caller ID as Jongdae. I threw my phone at Jongin and he looked at me in confusion before he answered the phone “yoboseyo? Ahhh Jongdae, no we won’t be long now, just had a quick pit stop for coffee. Yeah she’s loving the drive, yeah, I’ll see you later,” Jongin promptly hung up and grinned at me, “you’re going to have to drive otherwise he’ll be suspicious,”.
“I can’t believe you!” I shouted and slapped his chest before turning around on him and been faced with the steering wheel. His laughing started again as he bought his hands to my hips.
“How about we try driving like this, I’ll do the pedals and you can be in charge of the steering wheel while bouncing up and down on my-” I cut him off by rolling on to the passenger seat and grabbing my clothes, trying to put them back on in the small space provided, ignoring his ludicrous suggestion.
He didn’t stop laughing as he sat up and carried on talking, “come on, imagine how good it’d feel as we go over speed bumps,” he joked as I quickly gathered his clothes and threw them in to his arms.
“Get dressed Jongin, don’t you dare try anything in the remaining ten minutes it’s going to take to get there,” He grinned lazily at me as he pulled his shirt over his head.
“Ok jagi, but I’m going to put the radio on, otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself,”.
I hope that was ok, thanks for taking your time to read it. It’s the first time I’ve ever tried writing anything that wasn’t for school so it will probably be quite bad. If you have any suggestions/tips etc please send me a message! Also if you have any requests I’ll gladly take them on :)
[☆] Title: Loved You a Long Time ↝ Jongin/Jongdae ↝ NC-17 ↝ Reincarnation AU, 11K ↝ Summary: “Listen to me, and believe me when I say this. I love you. I’ve loved you for a thousand years. And I will love you a thousand more to come. Whatever happened to us then, or what happens to us now, that remains forever true." https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573058
A/N: This is part 3 of a finished fic, the links for which can be found on my mistresslist.
Despite the unutterable horror of what had happened that fateful night, your life continued, almost as it always had. Your father was powerful enough to quell any official hint of scandal from your having been missing those three days, saying that you had suddenly taken ill, and been quickly transported to the hospital. However, whenever your parents questioned you as to your whereabouts for those fateful three days, the horror of what occurred threatened to overwhelm your mind, and you had such attacks and palpitations that they soon learned to keep their questions to themselves, having to satisfy themselves in the knowledge that you were at least, physically, whole.
One night, however, your maman had slipped into your bed, wrapping her arms around you, and holding you close–like she used to do when you were a child, crying over a nightmare–quietly asking if anything, untoward, had happened, for which they needed to prepare. Though your answer was wrought from you with tears, you were at least grateful for the knowledge that nothing of that sort had been visited upon your person.
The scandal from Jongin’s disappearance, especially after his having been by your side all night, was far more difficult to handle. You had told your parents that you didn’t know where Jongin–Monsieur Kim–was, which was technically true, your having no idea what Monsieur Boudreaux had done with his body. They relayed that information to his peers, who instituted a city-wide search, with the full cooperation of the police.
During all of this, the wagging tongues of the gossip mill were set aflame, though you were shielded from most of it, due to your papa’s position in society. That didn’t stop the censorious looks from old broodmares, as you walked down the street, or the sniffs from your peers who had already been envious of the singular attention he had been paying to you, all along. While they–thankfully–didn’t seem to think that you had anything to do with his disappearance, you had, unfortunately been branded an inveterate flirt.
***
Upon arriving home, after seeing Etienne safely ensconced in the arms of his retainers, you slipped inside the servant’s entrance, and crept up the stairs to your bedchamber. Monsieur Kim was right on your heels, and you quickly closed the door in his face. There was a scoff, then he walked through the door, raising an eyebrow at you.
Sitting at your vanity, you met his eyes in the mirror, as you reached behind yourself to undo the hooks and eyes of your gown. “Sir?”
He averted his eyes, a slight blush suffusing the tops of his cheeks. After a moment of further thought, he turned around completely, standing stock-still until you walked by him in your nightdress. Climbing into bed, you turned on your side, facing away from him, and closing your eyes, desperate to achieve a few hours of sleep before you were awakened by Cosette.
“You saved that boy’s life tonight.”
You sighed heavily. “Is it not enough that you endeavour to starve me to death, must you now also add sleep deprivation to your list of tortures?”
He was silent for a moment, but when he spoke again, the sound was right behind your head. “I still don’t understand what happened.”
Huffing in frustration, you turned to see that Monsieur Kim was lying on his back beside you, his head on your other pillow. “Be glad that you’re dead, otherwise, my papa would kill you for being in his daughter’s bed, and my maman would kill you for putting your shoes on her antique coverlet. Ma grand-mere’s maman crocheted this, you know.”
He slanted you an almost playful look.
You blinked. It had to have been a trick of the light. Clearing your throat, you asked, “So, what about this night was so confusing to you?”
“I’ve watched you kill countless men. You’re merciless–” here you started in protest, but he gave you a quelling look, and you subsided, “and yet, allowed that boy to live. Not only that, but you tried to stop those men from hurting him. Why?”
“Apparently, monsieur, your powers of observation are in inverse proportion to your looks,” you said tartly. “If you had taken but a moment to mark the low nature of those whom I’ve been eating, then you would have realized that I only eat the murderous, and the rapine. I am a monster, yes–I’ve come to terms with that–but if I have to continue in this accursed way, then I should at least do what I can to help clean the city of its filth.”
Monsieur Kim turned to you, his visage serious. You tried not to think of how, had the circumstances been different, you both may have still lain just like this, but with soft words of love flowing between you, instead of the guarded expressions you now wore.
“Clean the city of its filth,” he mused. “Why do you not start with Boudreaux?”
You blinked, taken aback. It had never even occurred to you to try to seek vengeance on the man who had made you a monster. “I…haven’t thought…how could I? He’s like me–”
“Honour amoungst thieves?”
“I doubt I have the strength. Besides, he already told me that he’s impossible to kill.”
“And you believed him?”
You were silent. Then, slowly, “I’m still unsure of what I am… If I kill him, I kill hope for any answers to this cursed condition.”
“Surely, he can’t be the only one.”
“No, but how do you propose I find another? Shall I put an ad in the paper?”
“Is that why you hesitate? Or is there a secret affinity for him, hidden deep within your breast?”
Your eyes filled with tears. “You think me so base?”
Monsieur Kim seemed discomfited by your tears. “He…made you what you are. It would merely be natural–”
“Nothing about this entire affair is natural!” you ejaculated. Turning with a huff, you pulled the covers over your head.
He was blessedly silent.
***
The next day, you dragged yourself down to brunch, still achingly weary, from both the previous night’s exertions, and the lack of sleep.
Sitting at the table, you fortified yourself for another round of pretense. At first, you had called for your meals to be taken in your room, and it was easy enough to convince Cosette to eat them for you, blaming your lack of appetite on the loss of your paramour. However, as you began to lose weight (due to Monsieur Kim’s interference with your hunting), and grow progressively paler, your parents insisted on your joining them for meals, so that they could keep an eye on you.
Food that you had once found delectable now nauseated you, and though you could consume it, you couldn’t keep it down for long, leading to a miserable post-meal ritual that you dreaded. As you listlessly pushed about the food on your plate, the butler came with a card on a silver tray, for your father.
He took it and, glancing at you, nodded to the butler, saying, “Bring him in–tell him that we’re having brunch, and he’s welcome to join us.”
After a few moments, the cadence of a familiar tread reached your ears, and you froze in horror.
“Ah! Monsieur Boudreaux!” your mother trilled, standing up from the table, wrapping her arm around his, and guiding him to sit across from you. “What a wonderful surprise! How lovely to see you this morning. To what do we owe the occasion?”
“I was actually wondering if I may have the pleasure of speaking with your lovely daughter.”
For a fraction of a second, both of your parent’s faces dropped their genial veneer, before smoothing over once more, to polite anodyne. “Why, Monsieur Boudreaux,” your mother started, “I fear that our daughter hasn’t been feeling quite herself as of late. Perhaps if you returned another day–”
“Mais non, c’est bien, Maman,” you murmured. Standing abruptly, without looking at him, you said, “Monsieur Boudreaux, if you would be so kind as to accompany me into the parlour?”
You wheeled on him after closing the door, your fangs having already descended in preparation.
Monsieur Boudreaux held up his hand, and you froze, a guttural growl rumbling from your chest.
“I’m not here to antagonize you,” he said, his voice mild. “Besides, you should be more careful. What if one of the servants were to hear you?”
Subsiding, you looked away, ashamed at your lack of self-control.
“It’s my fault,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left you without guidance for so long. I’ve been remiss in my responsibility to you, and for that, I apologize sincerely.”
“Pretty words will gain you no favours, monsieur. I neither desire, nor require your assistance.”
“Do you not?” he asked mildly. “Tell me, mademoiselle, have you not found it odd that there has been no hue and cry in the papers about the deaths of so many of your…meals?”
You could feel the blood draining from your face.
Monsieur Boudreaux cocked his head as he saw your realization. “Ma cher enfante, did you really think that you could just leave bodies lying about the city, and no one would notice?”
Having no remonstration, you were silent, though you cursed yourself inwardly, for failing to clean up after your predations. “Monsieur. If you are trying to arouse a sense of gratitude in my breast–”
“What I want from you is not gratitude, mademoiselle!” Monsieur Boudreaux thundered, losing control for the first time. He began pacing the room like a caged tiger, raking a hand through his hair, causing it to stand at a rakish angle. “I have tried to give you time to come to terms with your new situation, I have given you space to become comfortable with what you are, but what do I find?” He gestured to you, his movements jerky with frustration. “In my absence you have, what? Chosen to starve yourself? Tried to expose yourself by leaving evidence that even the dreariest dullard could interpret?”
“I assure you, I have no intentions of starving myself! I found out quite early the impossibility of that, unless I want to lose myself and attack another innocent! I just…have had trouble finding enough to eat, is all.”
“We are in a city of hundreds of thousands, and you cannot find enough to eat?”
“I am not a fiend; I will not eat just anyone.”
“Even so, there remain tens of thousands of blackguards from which to choose.”
“Just so. However, I have run into certain complications–”
“Such as?”
You raised your chin, and looked down your nose at him, despite your inferior height. “They are none of your concern, monsieur.”
“None of my–” he cut himself off, and turned to the window, positively trembling in an obvious effort to control his temper. After a moment, he turned back to you, now looking far more composed. With each statement, he stepped closer, until you were pressed against the door within the cage of his arms. “You are my only concern. I wanted you. I waited for you, and I made you. You were made for me, and I’ll not let you go to ruin!”
His voice gentled. “Ma chère mademoiselle, you cannot remain unempathetic to my affections. Only I know what you are going through, what you require. I can make this so much simpler for you, if you will merely give me your heart.”
Breathing heavily, you said, your voice steady, “Never.”
Monsieur Boudreaux pupils lengthened, and a quiet, high pitched noise like a sword being drawn out of its scabbard issued from his mouth as his fangs slid into place. “Very well,” he rasped “If you won’t change your mind, I will change it for you.”
Pulling your head to the side, his mouth descended toward your neck–
“Step back, scoundrel!”
You sagged in relief. Monsieur Kim.
His dark eyes flashed as he took in the scene before him, his jaw firm, his stance authoritative, as if he were about to strike Monsieur Boudreaux where the wretch stood.
Monsieur Boudreaux’s eyes narrowed, as he raised his face from your neck. Turning, he slanted a glance to the side, to see Monsieur Kim standing beside you, his form quivering with fury. A slow smirk sliced through his expression, as he looked between the two of you. In a voice so scathing as to be downright caustic he said, “Ah, the wretched revenant. Tell me, mademoiselle…is he why you haven’t been eating? Shall I rid you of him?”
“The only villain that I wish to be rid of is you, monsieur!” you ejaculated, pushing him away from you, with no inconsiderable effort.
Monsieur Boudreaux closed his eyes and, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck, visibly calmed himself, so that when his eyes reopened, he looked once more the gentleman. Pinning you with a look, he said, “You can waste your time being tormented by this useless phantom, or you can come to me and finally become all I have made you to be. I will wait. After all,” he smiled, his eyes hot and wicked, “We have time.”
You stepped aside, as he made for the door, and left. As soon as the door closed behind him, you sank onto the nearest seat, your hand to your throat to quell the tumultuous beating of your terrified heart. For, as much as you hated to admit it, he did hold some dark allure over you that you felt grow only stronger when he dropped his human visage. Nausea rose, as you tried not to swoon when, from the corner of your eye, you saw Monsieur Kim crouching beside you.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
You shook your head, wordless for a moment. Then, “Non. Non! I am, most unequivocally not alright!”
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the overstuffed back of the settee, a tear slipping from the side of your eye to slide down your cheek, and fall with a small -pat- onto the arm of the bench.
Suddenly, you heard a soft, tentative breath, and then, Monsieur Kim began to sing. “Shigando jamshi gireul ireotteon got/ Haneulhan momjise geuman maeryodwen chaero/ geotjabeul su eopshi niga nae ane beonjeo/ neoroman gadeuki dameun shiya/ eongkin shiseone nal maedeupjieun chae/ neon muishikkaji chimbeomharyeo hae/ wiheomhadan geol almyeonseo/ han georeum deo nan dagaseo/ geojinmareun sseo almyeonseo geojinmareul sseo/ ppajin geora haetjiman sashil nal ppateurin neon gipeo/ kkeuchi eopshi boyeo seumyeodeureo joyeo/ ireobeoryeo da dwedollil sun eopseo/ cheoncheonhi deurikyeo euimi eomneun sum/ malhaejweo jigeum neol haega kkaegi jeon/ bonaejweo yeongweonhi naye pumeuro/ jamgil kkeot gata sum shwil ttaemada/ geunyang idaero/ neoye pumeuro ppajeoga/ kkeudeopshi/ kkeojil tteut adeukaejin neukkimi sungan nan neoman heorakdwae/ nan nege ppajeoga”
By the time he was finished, your frayed nerves had almost completely calmed at the rich, soft sound of his curiously calming voice. “What was that?” you murmured, eyes still closed. “What did it mean?”
He was silent for a long time, and then he asked, “Have you come back to yourself?”
You nodded, slowly opening your eyes to see him directly in front of you, so close that you could have easily reached out to touch him, had you been able to touch him.
A sudden knock on the door jarred you both from your private moment, and you looked up to see your father enter. When you glanced back, Monsieur Kim had vanished.
***
After the events of the previous night, an uneasy truce arose between you, and Monsieur Kim. He no longer inhibited you from taking your meals, though he was otherwise cool. Despite his penchant for cutting remarks, however, he even began to aid you in your hunts–even going so far as to scout the streets for potential meals–and, incrementally but surely, the streets of your city began to become a bit safer, just as the blooms began to return to your cheeks.
At times, he would even rouse you from your bed to inform you of some atrocity in the offing, and there soon were countless occasions where you had the pleasure of arresting the villains in flagrante delicto. Permanently. The only downside was, not wanting to be beholden to Monsieur Boudreaux, you now had to personally take care of the disposal of your leftovers.
The alligators in the neighbouring swamps slowly began to fatten.
***
One particularly fateful night, you were disposing of the body of a rake who had taken into his possession a servant girl who could have been no older than 11, for the purposes of selling her to a house of ill-repute, to pay off his gambling debts.
“So, what are you going to do about the girl?”
You looked over your shoulder, to see the malnourished, curly-haired waif had followed you, even after having seen what you had done to the rapscallion who had been preparing to divest her of her innocence before you arrived. Her feet were bare, and her chemise hung in tatters, off of her thin shoulders.
Striding over to her, you crouched to her level, taking off your cloak, and wrapping it about her shoulders. Her bedraggled copper curls brushed your face, as she leaned forward to caress your cheek while you fastened the cape at her throat. Wordlessly, you looked up into her wide brown eyes, eyes full of trust, despite the type of life she must have led. Setting your jaw, you made a decision.
Sweeping the girl into your arms, you strode off for home. After a few moments, you heard a soft snore, and looked down to see that she had fallen asleep, her head lolling against your shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Monsieur Kim queried.
“I’m taking her home.”
“And then what?”
“A bath, a meal, and bed.”
Monsieur Kim was silent. Then, “You’re not going to return her to her parents?”
Scoffing, you shook your head. “She will be given a position in my household. Once in my employ, should she wish to visit her parents, she shall–with supervision–until I am satisfied that they aren’t the ones who sold her into that scoundrel’s grasp.
He walked alongside you in silence. After some time had passed, he cleared his throat. “Do you remember that night?”
You said nothing, merely continued on your way, as you contemplated his query. You knew precisely what he referenced, but you didn’t want to break your uneasy truce. Finally, you nodded once, tersely.
“I was going to request your hand. You were going to say yes. Perhaps we would have been happy. However, since then, I have come to realize that we didn’t truly know each other, though I daresay that would have come in time. I hardly know what you thought of me, but to me, you were delicate, soft, clever, and altogether perfect. I had such dreams of taking you to see the world, of your being by my side, supporting me in all of my political endeavours. I envisioned taking you home, and ensconcing you safely in my household, a brilliant jewel to rival all of the other precious things that my ancestors have collected throughout the centuries.” He smiled ruefully.
“I wanted to treat you preciously.” Monsieur Kim slanted a playful glance at you. “You were going to bear me six sons.”
“Six?!” you scoffed, indignant.
“Indeed,” he responded, smiling almost as brightly as you remembered. “Six brilliant sons to follow in my footsteps, and four strong daughters with your wit, and cleverness, to be presented at court. I like to think that we would have been happy. Would you have been happy?”
The girl stirred, and you readjusted her in your arms, briefly wrapping a hand around her head to comfort her back to sleep. When she was once again silent, you nodded your head. “Oui, Monsieur Kim,” you responded quietly, your voice regretful. “I would have been quite happy.”
His eyes were pained as he once again faced forward. Swallowing with some difficulty, he shoved his hands into his pockets, as his thoughtful gaze fell to the cobblestones.
***
Cosette helped you bathe the child, whose name she told you drowsily, as you washed her hair, was Angeline. You had had to confess your nature to Cosette, who had taken it surprisingly well.
“Eh bien,” she had said, carelessly shrugging one shoulder. “I have been your servant since we were children. Despite this rather unsavoury change in diet, I’ve noticed no fiendish developments in your person, and therefore,” here, she had raised her eyes to yours, her wide hazel eyes glowing fervently, “I will stay with you, mademoiselle until the end. Until the end, I am your own faithful servant.” You had both clasped hands then, though you could not speak, emotion robbing you of your voice.
Between the two of you, you were able to create a story for the housekeeper, to convince her to hire Angeline as a new kitchen maid. Despite your prior misgivings, it had turned out that Angeline had been stolen from her parents, though they were quite pleased to know that she had been able to become a domestic in such a great household. Finding out that her mother was a seamstress, you began sending extra work her way, and found another household for which Angeline’s father could ply his trade as a factotum. You couldn’t save the world, but you could at least help one small family.
Every day, Monsieur Kim looked at you differently. You tried to ignore it, fearing that it was merely your imagination, but soon the cool glances and cutting smirks, began to soften and warm. He once more began regaling you with tales of his childhood, teaching you about his language, and culture, and even, at times, singing sweetly to you, when the things seen on your nightly hunts became too much for you to bear.
You were imminently grateful. Though he had started out as your torment, without him, you surely would have broken down and gone, either to Monsieur Boudreaux, or mad.
One day, you wandered into the kitchen gardens to find Monsieur Kim, and Angeline merrily chattering away. Stopping in shock, you turned, so as not to interrupt them, or accidentally eavesdrop, but Angeline caught sight of you, and tripped over lightly, childishly wrapping her arms around your waist, as she was apt to do when you were alone.
Returning the embrace, you looked down at her. “You can see Monsieur Kim, cherie ?”
“Oui, mademoiselle! Since the night he found me, and told me not to worry, that you would be coming to save me.”
Raising an eyebrow, you looked over to him, noticing his discomfiture. “He said that, did he?”
Angeline nodded emphatically. “Oui! He told me to just try to distract my old master long enough for you to arrive; that once you came, everything would be alright.”
Crouching to her level, you reached out a hand to gently caress her cheek. “Angeline, I suddenly have such a craving for chocolates. Would you be a dear, and go pick up a box for me?” Handing her a few notes from your reticule, you gave the back of her head an affectionate caress before she skipped off to the confectionary.
“You don’t eat chocolates,” Monsieur Kim remarked drily.
You shrugged elegantly. “Eh, bien, I suppose that she will just have to eat them for me.”
“You’re spoiling her.”
“Apparently, so are you.”
He averted his eyes. Then, quietly, “I love children.”
You nodded sadly, “As do I.” Then, shaking yourself of your melancholy, you approached him. “So, Angeline can see you, as well?”
He nodded. “It seems as if children, and people like you can see me, with no effort on my part, but to everyone else, I have to actively endeavour to be seen. I can do it, but it takes a lot out of me, and I can only do it for so often, or so long, before I have to rest.”
“Fascinating,” you responded.
He gave you a look. “Not quite,” he murmured.
A soft growling noise rent the peace of the late afternoon, and you halted in shocked horror.
Monsieur Kim stared at you, and then burst into delighted laughter, holding his stomach, and releasing peal after peal of mirth.
With a huff, you pushed forward, leaving him behind in his joy, but he was quick to catch up with you.
“It would seem as if a certain mademoiselle is hungry,” he chuckled, beaming down at you, his eyes bright and teasing.
“Oui, eh bien, that was not me,” you said loftily.
“No? Is your garden infested with diminutive bears, perhaps? Lilliputian lions?”
Your cheeks burned in mortification. “A gentleman would not notice such things as…garden bears,” you remonstrated.
“Indeed,” he rejoined, “but I’ve crossed beyond the veil. I fear that I’m quite beyond all constraints of gentlemanly behaviour.”
“Then why do you always avert your gaze when it’s time for my habilitation?”
He flushed to the tips of his ears. “Mademoiselle!”
Walking backwards, you tilted your head flirtatiously. “Why, Monsieur Kim!” you exclaimed teasingly. “I do believe that you are blushing!”
Monsieur Kim chuckled softly, and closed his eyes, lowering his head in admission.
When he opened his eyes, however, Monsieur Kim was gone.
A sloe-eyed rake looked up at you, his head tilted sideways as he bit his lip, slowly giving you a once-over.
Involuntarily, you swallowed.
He slowly stalked toward you, his gait as smooth and rolling as a panther, and you squeaked. Lifting your skirts, you turned tail and ran, to the teasing sounds of more of Monsieur Kim’s mirthful laughter.
***
That night, you were stalking through the shadows, when you came across something that you had never thought you’d see.
Someone like you, feeding from a fainting dark-haired girl.
Wordlessly, you ran to him, grabbing him by the back of his jacket, and throwing him as hard as you could against a nearby wall. Turning, you growled to the girl, “Go home to your maman, petit biquet.”
Before you could turn, he was on you, and you were soon embroiled in a fierce fight for your very life. Fangs and claws flashed as you fought like a wildcat, but he was ever so much stronger. You could feel yourself weakening from the multiple gashes and lacerations that you had been dealt, while meanwhile, he remained relatively unscathed. From the corner of your eye, you could see Monsieur Kim disappear, but you had to concentrate on your opponent, or else–
A sharp pain pierced your chest, and you looked down to see a wooden stake buried there. Faltering, you stumbled backwards, your legs giving way beneath you, as you fell to the ground.
The stranger crouched over you, his cold, pale blue eyes glittering under a mop of soft chestnut curls. If it weren’t for the murderous glint in his eye, he would have been handsome.
You wrapped a hand around the stake, and tried to pull it out, but the pain was too great, and a wave of blackness rolled over you. Your eyelids fluttered as you valiantly struggled to remain conscious.
“Who are you?” he grated, his voice rough, but cultured, his accent of the North.
You couldn’t have answered if you tried. The pain was too great.
He looked down at you consideringly, as if examining a specimen. “Why did you interrupt me?”
You merely gazed at him wordlessly, coughing wretchedly as blood began to pool in your lung. When you opened your mouth to take a desperate breath, but coughed again, you felt it, warm and thick, running down your chin to join the stain at your breast.
The stranger looked away, as if bored. “You robbed me of my dinner.” Turning back, he gripped you tightly by the chin, lifting your face, and turning it this way, and that, as if examining a horse. “What should I do to you, hm?”
“Leave her, if you value your life.”
You closed your eyes, as the last voice you would have wanted to hear rang through the night.
Monsieur Boudreaux.
Song translation:
Even time was lost in this place
Completely captivated by your light movements
I couldn’t stop you spreading inside of me
My eyes are only filled with you
The mixed up looks tie me up
You try to take over even my subconsciousness
I know it’s dangerous
But I’m taking another step
In the faintly shining sky
Draw me out thicker (draw me out more)
For a long time in your memories (in your memories)
Engrave me deeper (engrave deeper)
Yeah, lies are bitter, even though I know, lies are bitter
I said I fell for you but you made me fall so deep
I can see endlessly, you come inside and suffocate me
I lost everything, can’t turn it back
I’m drinking in meaningless breaths
Tell me before the sun wakes up
Send yourself forever into my arms
Feels like I’m locked up every time I breathe
Just like this, fall, fall, fall for you
Into your arms, fall, fall, I’m falling
Endlessly
Feels so far away
Only you are allowed for me in this moment
Fall, fall, into you
I’m falling
A/N: If you wish to follow me, then please do so @vampwrrr, as I post all of the latest updates there, and my stories have links, for easier reading.
