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Mingi was not allowed to leave The City of Everlasting Change. Doing so had been forbidden by his mother, who though she claimed to be a Solitary, had yet to let go of the beliefs of her former Court. Here, at home, she said, he was safe, happy, and free. Humans were unkind creatures and their realm held nothing but liars, cheaters, and cruelty beyond even an Autumn fairy’s imagination.
Since his two older brothers had left to join the Queen’s army the last quarter, his mother’s attention had swarmed him like a fluffle of bunnies, and she had tightened her already vice-like grip upon him, his thoughts, and his feelings. She worried even more so now that he’d been placed in his proper Court just a few days prior—the Spring Court.
He’d always known he would be a Spring fairy when the time came. Everyone did, despite his mother’s denial and insistence he’d be a Winter fairy like she was. Winter fairies were few and far between in their family. His mother had been one of three. But anyhow, everyone knew, as he’d always been rather spirited and even more so salacious (though, he did not quite understand where that observation came from—he’d never courted, let alone dated, anyone!) and was more inclined to play and be almost annoyingly childish compared to his Summer Court siblings and cousins. And, much to his mother’s chagrin, humans had been a point of interest for him since his childhood.
Now that he’d been placed into the Spring Court, he was supposed to go off on his own and begin his own life. But anytime he’d bring up the idea of leaving to be on his own, she’d insist, “You have all you need here with me!” If he even so much as frowned in her presence, he’d be scolded for having an attitude and being ungrateful. Sometimes, she’d just try to scare him with stories of how horrible the ‘outside’ world was and how disgusting and terrifying humans really could be (of course, he was not a member of the Winter Court and as such, did not find himself sharing her naturally born sentiments, nor had he ever given much of a damn to listen to her lectures. He’d heard them all before, mouthed the words to each when she began to howl). Then afterwards, she’d bring him all the things she knew he liked as though that would make everything better. Mingi knew that she knew she was wrong. But she didn’t seem to care.
Mingi was well aware she worried he’d end up like his cousins—Hoseok had gone to the human realm after falling in love with a witch and his familiar, Jisung had gone to the human realm and, after just a few months, joined a coven of his own (twenty-three people!), Seokmin had gone to the human realm and done the same as Jisung, joining a small coven of twelve—and this, in her mind, was unacceptable. To find anything in the human realm but what she thought one should meant only betrayal to their kind in her eyes.
When she left, which was each day without a word to him, he would mull over how lucky his cousins were to have parents that had been in the Spring and Summer Courts, parents who did not mind their leaving—celebrated it, even and were happy for them to find where they thought they were meant to be. They’d all found love and happiness, and yet, he was here, alone and unfulfilled.
He’d read the love stories in fairy tales all his life, devoured every word as though they were the honey cakes he so adored. They were always simple and predictable: one beautiful person meets another beautiful person and both are incredibly perfect and live happily ever after after defeating a threat that wasn’t all that serious after all. Once upon a time, he’d wanted to have that love story because it would be so simple, because it was so cliched he’d know just how it would end: with him safe, happy, and loved by the perfect person. Growing up always had a way of ruining those simple, cliched dreams.
Of course, Jeup and Inseong loved him, he knew that, and he knew that, in her own way, his mother loved him too, but it was not the sort of love that he craved. He did not care who it was the love him, except that he wished they loved him with a love that was freeing and primal, new and ever-changing, a love that would fill him until his cup spilled over and fully encompassed him, wrapping him up in a safe little cocoon where he could be afraid and naive, and know that it was okay to be.
But that sort of love was not meant for him.
Almost worse than his mother were the other fairies. Mingi lived in the Wildelands, the part of Faerie that every Court could mingle freely in. That meant more scrutiny than he’d ever want to deal with. Winter and Autumn fairies were the worst; they’d tell him to his face, or not even bother whispering when he passed them by. Summer and Spring fairies were more bearable, their insults were more often underhanded and were easier for him to play stupid with and pretend that he didn’t understand what they meant.
But they all boiled down to the same thing in the end: criticisms about his appearance. He’d heard their whispers, the kindest of which were often along the lines of, “Why doesn’t he use his glamour?” to the cruelest of which he could not even bear to repeat in his head, let alone aloud. Each word ate away at his already quite meager confidence. He wished more than anything he could use his glamour, but his mother had forbidden that too because he was “perfect as he was”. He thought it was because she just didn’t want anyone falling in love with him and taking him away from her. She hadn’t liked that accusation very much the first time he said it.
The need to use his glamour was less about the fact that it was a fairy’s best defense, a survival skill he’d only prattled with in school and then never again. It was about his need to not see himself for what he truly was when he looked in the mirror. It was about his need to not have to stand in front of the mirror and criticize every inch of his lanky, cumbersome body—the stretchmarks on his hips, knees, and lower back because he’d grown far more than the average fairy should have, his soft tummy because too often did he indulge and too little did he dance these days, his unkempt red hair that he could never quite seem to tame no matter how long he spent brushing it, his long face and tiny eyes, and his crooked smile that, when told to smile for a picture, could best be described as ‘oh, I suppose that’ll do’.
Despite the fact that good and evil was decided not by size, but by Court, did not stop the stereotypes that smaller fairies were thought to be more beautiful and virtuous. They were the fairies who could lure a human into Faerie with just a smile and fluttering butterfly wing lashes. Taller fairies were very much the opposite—they were less beautiful, though certainly not ugly, and were seen as dishonest and crafty (which was saying something, all things considered). They lied, cheated, and stole to get what they wanted and were quite unpleasant to be around. They were the ones everyone said to keep an eye on.
As mothers did, his would tell him he was perfect just the way he was. It was easy for her to say such things because she was a proper fairy; short and dainty with inky hair that fell in waves down her back, a small face and big, sparkly eyes, with a dazzling smile full of straight, white teeth to match.
Even so, Mingi simply had found ways to stop seeing himself. It was easy to cover up his mirrors or keep his eyes on the wall when he showered. But he never could stop longing to see the human realm.
After going a solid two months without asking, his longest record, he’d gone to his mother’s room that morning and thrown himself across her bed while she prepared herself for a hard, busy day of gossiping with her friends and flirting with the men in the Bazaar, as she so often occupied her time with rather than caring for him—an odd hypocrisy, her need to flaunt herself rivalling her need to smother him.
“You’ve no idea what humans are like or what they’re capable of,” she’d snapped, back turned as she combed her hair, and twirled the thick strands around two fingers, before pinning it up neatly and patting it with a self-satisfied smile. “I know, Mingi. I’ve seen them, I’ve hunted the worst of them. I have told you this before! Why can’t you just trust me on this? Do you not love me?”
“Mother!” Mingi cried, “Of course I... I care for you. And I do trust you. But I won’t know what humans are truly like if you never let me leave! People change. Everyone changes. Not every human can be the same! Stories are nothing compared to experiences. Jeup and Inseong have gone on so many Hunts in their realm, and they’ve come back just fine!” He hesitated before adding, “Hoseok, Seokmin, and Jisung all have humans in their covens, and they haven’t been harmed either…”
She turned to him, her face the prettiest illustration of anger, and shook a finger at him as though he was still knee-high and about in his smocked dresses and bloomers, and playing silly pranks around the house. “The Hunts were for wicked, wretched humans. And do not mention the names of those traitors in my house! My answer is no, Mingi! I will not have my son fucking around with those— those things! I give you everything! A home, clothing, love, and yet you still patronize me! What have I not given you that you think you shall find in the human realm? And if you ask me again, I promise you are going to end up somewhere you do not want to be!”
“You always do this! I ask and you shut me down!” He yelled, squishing one of her pillow’s to his chest. “It’s not fair! I’m an adult now, and you keep treating me like a child!”
“Mingi,” she said through gritted teeth, “Do not yell at me. I don’t need to explain myself to you. Adult or not, I am your mother, and what I say goes. Do not ask me again.”
Frustrated, Mingi had curled up on her bed and conceded, promising that he would not ask her again. She’d frowned at him and sighed, cold and unaffected by his distress, and left without another word, angrily patting blush into her cheeks.
A gross thickness clawed at his throat as he curled around one of her pillows, breath coming out in fast, hot puffs.
Why was his mother so stubborn? So insistent that she was right, and he was wrong and knew nothing? He was far from stupid; he knew how the world worked, for the most part anyway. If so much of his family could go to the human realm and meet and play with and love humans, surely they could not be so bad. Humans could be cruel, but so could fairies. There were good and bad fairies in all Courts, despite certain reputations. Certainly it was the same for humans. How could an entire realm of people be horrible enough for his mother to insist he never even set his pinky toe in their realm?
Then, naturally, as it did when one so desperately wanted to do something they were not meant to, it occurred to him that he had merely promised that he would not ask to go, not that he would not go. Mingi had never once disobeyed his mother on a matter as serious as this. He’d be breaking two of her rules if he did this: leaving without telling her where he was going, and going to the human realm.
Jeup and Inseong could do as they wished without their mother nagging at them, they could go to the human realm all they wished to. Why couldn’t he? Why was it that he was babied, and coddled, and treated as though he was incapable of watching out for himself? He was no longer a child. He’d been robbed of that a long time ago, had been denied the gift of smallness and the purity of being a child with all her smothering and over-protectiveness; it wasn’t her place nor right to attempt to give him that now.
He wiped his eyes and waited thirty minutes, trembling on her bed, in case she’d forgotten something before he left for his Court’s territory. Mingi found it only slightly easier to ignore the stares he felt he was receiving and keep his eyes down as he made his way to the Citadel.
Mingi used the same fairy ring that Hoseok had when he left. Hoseok had always been fond of him, and he knew that he could trust that if they came across one another, he would not escort him home and tell his mother.
The human realm was a stark difference to the City, or at least, this part of it was. He’d stepped into a swampland. He could scarcely feel the sun through the thick branches of the dark, moss-covered trees that stretched far above his head. Each breath brought muggy air laced with the smell of decay into his lungs; a contrast from the light, crisp air he was so used to.
There was very little land to walk on as water covered a majority of the land, and what little land there was felt wet and mushy underfoot. It was uncomfortably humid and his wings quickly grew damp and unusable. Mingi couldn’t understand why his mother hated humans so much when their wildlife was truly the most unbearable thing about their realm. The green watersnakes, the rotten, blood-thirsty leeches, the insects, and the alligators that just lurked in the ripping, warm water, waiting. In the Wildelands, there were few animals but ladybirds, beetles, bunnies, and the occasional squirrel or chipmunk. The only place he’d been with a similar terrain was the southern part of the Summer Court when he’d visited his aunt and uncle one summer.
After a little more than what was maybe an hour—time in the human realm ran differently than he was used to, after all—his clothes were clinging to his skin, and mud and algaed water squelched between his toes as he walked, staining him up to just above his ankles.
There were no trails to follow, only areas more trodden down with bare- and shoe prints alike, and less thickly shrouded in verdant foliage; there was nowhere in particular to go and not another person in sight. Hoseok met Namjoon here, and Mingi didn’t understand why or how that ever could have happened. He would rather find another way to the City than go through the swamp again.
In Wildelands, the weather was neutral; never too hot or too cold because it was meant to be a perfect, neutral place for everyone regardless of their Court. It was perfect, just right, to put it best. Days and nights were cool enough for weeks-long festivities in which you’d never break a sweat, but warm enough that you wouldn’t freeze. Sometimes it rained, but there had not been a bout of foul weather in any Court, except for many millennia ago, when the King and Queen of the City disrupted the balance with their feuding.
Mingi grew accustomed to the change though and even found that he liked the unfamiliar burn that settled in his legs when he carried on too long without rest. And once he managed to look past all the decay and darkness, he could somewhat see the appeal. Strangely, it was comforting to be in a somewhat unfamiliar place, experiencing something entirely new.
Soon he was running through the swamp and exploring the land to his heart’s content; he felt like a child again as he climbed trees, dug into the ground for worms and frogs hidden in the mud, and scraped up his knees and the palms of his hands. Then, as he walked with six bleating speckled frogs he’d saved from a particularly bitey alligator cupped in his hands, magic prickled at his skin. His wings fluttered in response, itching to fly towards it, but were still too damp for him to consider using them.
The magic was supernatural, but not in the sense of it belonging to another fairy, or some other magic creature. When Hoseok brought Namjoon to the City, the witch’s magic had felt like this, but heavier, almost cloying, like it would choke him, in a good way. This was the magic of another witch. He wondered if fairies always found witches in this swamp. Curiosity got the best of him and he decided to follow. This was his chance to meet his very own human.
The land flattened bit by bit, though it stayed quite wet, and as he grew closer to the source, he felt more magic, not of the same kind, coming from the same place. It was faint, however, as though the witch’s magic was cloaking it—a means of protection, perhaps? Mingi could identify all but three. A witch, a pixie, and some sort of nature spirit.
Swampland faded into a bayou, and Mingi was at last met with a house, secluded and settled near the shoreline of the bayou. It was bigger than his house, three stories where his was one, with an overhanging roof covered in vines and flowers, and thin vines curling around the rails of the veranda. Every window’s curtains were drawn, but someone was home, a shadowy figure moving beyond a window on the third floor. The house breathed, an ever so slight shift, a breathy exhale that made the surrounding greenery blow into its push. He knew he’d found the right place, for a witch’s house always lived according to his eldest brother. It looked like a home; it looked lived in and filled with love. He longed for that.
Mingi released his frogs and then crawled from the bushes he’d crouched in, feeling safe enough to venture closer. Someone else was home too; a man, sitting at a little table beneath a mammoth of a weeping willow tree. Mingi could only stare in awe at his golden hair and pretty face. He looked like a prince of the Summer Court. Mingi rose from the ground as he approached, hands shaking and heart beating faster than it ever had before. He was thoroughly enchanted and excited to speak with his very first human (Namjoon didn’t count, because he’d been a kid and too stunned to do anything but stare and then run away, cheeks flushed).
The witch looked up at him through narrowed eyes. Mingi imagined he must look rather silly covered in dried mud and dirt from near head to toe.
Unsure of what to do, the fairy stood there in his stained shorts and sweater, toes curling into the soft ground until—
“You may sit,” The witch called out before motioning to the seat across from him. Mingi hesitated for only a moment before he approached and took a seat across from him. The witch set the deck of cards he was holding in his hands down on the table and eyed him curiously. Anxiety knotted in his stomach and clawed at his insides and he only felt slightly better than he’d decided to experiment with his glamour after glimpsing himself in a puddle.
Mingi swallowed hard, nervous, and blinked at the witch doltishly. The witch was pretty, even by notoriously high fairy standards, with big, sparkly eyes so dark brown they were nearly black, prominent cheekbones, and smooth, perfectly shaped pink lips. His eyes twinkled like the Forest of the Night and it was the prettiest thing Mingi had ever seen in his life. The witch tilted his head and he smiled in a way that disconcerted Mingi. His teeth were pretty too, perfect and white and set in straight rows. Mingi sank low in his seat, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He envied the witch.
In a languid motion, the witch drew his hand from his lap and propped his elbow against the table. A four-leaf clover hung from between his index and middle fingers, swaying slowly in the gentle breeze. Mingi pursed his lips and looked down, eyeing the condensation dripping down the sides of the witch’s glass. He hadn’t even bothered checking for clovers; how could he have been so stupid? Tears pricked at his eyes and he blinked furiously in an effort to keep his tears at bay. The witch knew. It was enough for his peers to see him like this, and now a perfect stranger had too.
When he glanced up, the witch’s eyebrows rose. He was baiting, of course, unwilling to speak first—or at least any further. One mustn’t if one could help it, Mingi reminded himself. Humans had rules for interacting with fairies, Hoseok had told him all about it.
So Mingi sniffled and gave him the respite, bringing his legs up into his seat and resting his chin on them. He pointed at the neatly stacked cards, “What are those?”
The witch hummed and flicked his wrist; the clover twirled as it fell back to the ground. He was silent as he picked up the deck and shuffled them, the sound distinct and soothing under the murmur of the bayou. “They’re tarot cards,” he answered finally. His voice was deep and smooth in a soft way, like dark chocolate and honey. “Would you like a reading?” Something akin to amusement lifted his last word as cards jumped from his deck and fell onto the table face down. “I think there’s something you’re meant to hear.”
Mingi eyed the cards, then nodded slowly, fingers drifting up to hide his mouth. “Alright. I-I’d like that.”
“What are you called?” The witch asked as he set the rest of his cards down and reached forward to turn the ones that had fallen over. Eight cards, three upside down, five right side up. A strange expression crossed the witch’s face as he laced his fingers together and rested his chin upon them, eyeing the cards with interest.
“You mean what’s my name?” Mingi asked.
“No. What are you called?” The witch smiled, “You may call me Mars.”
Mingi stared at the witch dumbly and chewed at the tips of his fingers. He’d only ever been called Mingi, but that was his proper name, and he couldn’t tell it to the witch. Names held power, after all. He thought for a moment before he said, “Princess. You can call me Princess.” It was a silly childhood nickname his brothers had given him, one they’d stopped calling him once he got older and they decided he probably didn’t want it anymore.
“Princess,” Mars all but purred. The way the name rolled off of his tongue made Mingi whimper and squirm, something unfamiliar pooling in the pit of his stomach. He’d never realized how much he missed being called by the name. Surely that was why he felt strange. Mars’ eyes were sparkling with amusement. What was so funny? “Before we begin, I want you to remember that all I’m about to say is based on your current energies. If you don’t like the sound of something, remember that it is not set in stone. All outcomes depend on what path you choose to journey on. Understand?”
“I understand… Mars.”
Mars took a sip of his lemonade and then tapped the first card with a finger. He looked up at Mingi, and Mingi got the distinct feeling that he’d be well-taken care of so long as he was here. Whether it was the breeze responsible for his trembling or something else, he could not tell.
“This card is Judgement in reverse. You judge yourself too harshly. Whether it be pertaining to your appearance or talents, you constantly judge yourself.” They’d just begun, and already Mingi felt the beginnings of discomfort. Perhaps he could be a bit self-critical, but it often felt like something he couldn’t help. Once he began to think that way, it became a habit and habits were hard to break when each day, whether he looked forward or backward in time, he only found more evidence to affirm his thoughts. Mingi knew that he shouldn’t, told himself that he should stop; in the end, it became another thing to criticize himself about. “You’re too focused on criticizing yourself for past mistakes, that you have yet to comprehend and understand the lessons you were meant to learn from these events; and more than that, you aren’t giving yourself the forgiveness you need to move on.”
“But... I don’t...” Mingi struggled to find the words and stared down into his lap, at his thighs, numb and mind drawing a blank. He hated when he felt this way; empty and broken. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I can’t just—” He said at last, cringing at the knot growing in his throat, the one that always seemed to keep him from crying when he really wanted to, and how it stopped up his voice.
The witch slid his hand across the table and held his hand. His voice was empathetic and kind, motherly, almost. “Mistakes are embarrassing, trust me, I know, darling, but dwelling on them will cause you to stumble and fall. And when you do, you will stay down because you’ll be too focused on judging yourself for ending up on the ground in the first place. I know it’s hard to forgive yourself, but our mistakes are a means of learning. Mistakes help us grow and happen for a reason. They’re like a stern, attentive school teacher, never giving it to you easy, but never giving you more than you can handle. It will take time. Be patient with yourself, and don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it.”
With a shaky inhale, the fairy squeezed Mars’ hand tightly, desperate for something to ground him. The next card depicted a woman stroking a lion tamed by her hand. Mars kept the soft tone of voice now, but was firm with each word, “Strength in reverse. You’re lacking the inner strength that this card would normally represent. This ties directly into your reversed Judgement card because of your lack of confidence in your abilities. You’ve forgotten about your passions, and the joy and fulfillment they brought you. You’re envious as you see those around you happy and enjoying life while you aren’t. You want what they have, but you cannot have it until you learn to have confidence in yourself and search within for the strength you’ve buried. Those around you are not the reason you are unhappy. You are. And only you can change that. Would you like to tell me something you used to enjoy doing?”
“I loved dancing. I-it always made me really happy… I felt free when I danced. I don’t… remember why I stopped…” Mars did not say a word, as if he knew that Mingi had more to say, and he simply waited, with no pressure. Mingi found that it did not make him clam up and feel anxious that someone was waiting for him to speak. “I’m not just envious because everyone else is happy. Everyone is so much prettier than me, and I hear what they all say about me all the time. That no one will ever love me, that I’m ugly, o-or too tall or too big a-and I just wish that I could look like them and not… not this,” Mingi scowled and clenched his jaw, eyes stinging from his tears. “Everyone I know has someone who loves them a-and I don’t. I envy them for that too. I feel so selfish and dirty all the time, Mars, because I know that I shouldn’t feel this way. And I know it’s no one’s fault but mine—” Mingi hiccuped, free hand curling around his throat. The knot had grown to be an uncomfortable pressure on his throat, choking him. But the more he spoke, admitted to this stranger the feelings he’d long suppressed, the better he felt. “But I don’t know how to fix it by myself.”
Mars’ lips pursed slightly, as though he was trying to even out lipstick. His breathing had gone a bit shaky, but he still spoke calmly. It reminded Mingi of his mother when he was still a child, how she’d struggle to remain strong when things got hard and he needed her to be. “Everyone feels envy at some point. I have been envious myself. But we cannot let our envy consume us. It’s okay to feel that way, little one. And you never have to do anything alone. You’ve already taken the first step to fixing it by admitting to it, and who was with you to help, hm?”
“Mm… y-you?” Mingi said, though it came out as more of a croak. His temples were throbbing and he rubbed furiously at his eyes with sleeves.
“Yes. I was right here. And I’m going to stay right here with you.” The witch’s thumb smoothed across the back of his hand, a comforting gesture, and Mingi felt more tears fall. “Next we have the Lovers. This is a good card. It means that you’re beginning to find yourself, and shape your own beliefs, instead of clinging to the ones taught by society. You must determine what is and what is not important to you in life...” Mars paused and clicked his tongue, a soft ‘ah,’ falling from his lips. He seemed to hesitate, eyes flickering to the next card. “This... this includes relationships. Familial especially, it seems, as you’ve got the Empress in reverse, and that card came out right after.”
The fairy could not help that he first thought of his mother. “W-what does that mean?”
“In your case, it means two things. The first being that there is domestic disharmony with a female figurehead in your life. A mother, grandmother, perhaps even an older sister, whoever came to your mind first, and they don’t have your best interests in mind. This person is overprotective. She wields her power as the head of your household without regard for you and your feelings and you feel trapped, as no matter which way you turn, she has you caged in. She smothers you. And while she doesn’t have your best interests in mind at the moment, she does truly want what is best for you. An event has happened recently... Has anyone left home? An older sibling, perhaps?”
“M-my two older brothers. They’ve gone to serve in the Queen’s Court.”
“As their children grow, many mothers have a hard time accepting this. With two children leaving at once, you’re all she has left, the youngest. You’re her baby and she is having a harder time accepting that you’re grown up now. You must make it clear to her that you’re an adult, and that you’re capable of making decisions for yourself. Make it clear that you understand her concerns and respect her as your mother, but she must remember to respect you and your wishes as well. You’ve trusted her all your life. Now it is time for her to trust you as well.”
Mingi wondered if Mars knew he’d seized his hand and was now holding it with both of his. The witch glanced up at him, lips brushing against his knuckles, even though they were covered in dried mud. His mother used to do the same when he was a child to comfort him. It appeared Mars knew exactly what he needed to hear and to feel. Mingi trembled. The witch had a strange effect on him.
“On the other hand,” Mars continued, “the Empress is also telling you to embrace your feminine qualities. We all have masculine and feminine qualities, and one overpowering the other causes imbalance. You’ve been neglecting your feminine side out of fear of what others may think. You cannot keep judging yourself and worrying about others judging you as well. You are you and they are them. It’s time for you to shift your focus and to prioritize self-love and self-care above all. You deserve that and more. Strength, too, needs a rest, little fairy.”
Mingi had never thought about how he was affecting himself. His mind had only allowed him to focus on the bad he saw in himself, and the bad others saw in him. It didn’t feel good. He didn’t want to continue like this, but it had become his normal. He’d found comfort in the deprecating routine. Hesitant, Mingi whispered, “Will… Will you help me, please? I-I’m not annoying—at least not all the time—and I’m cute sometimes, so I won’t hurt your eyes if you stare too long.”
Mars smiled his dazzling smile and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I would be more than happy to, Princess.”
Mingi could not help but cry freely then, and slipped out of his chair to kneel at the witch’s side, face buried in his knees. He was not scolded for potentially dirtying his dress. Instead, warm hands pet his head and Mars shushed him with all the carefulness of a true mother.
“Don’t cry, Princess. Your last four cards are all happy ones. Look,” The witch whispered, tilting the fairy’s head up and wiping away his tears. He guided Mingi to his feet and sat him in the chair closest to him, instead of across from him. “The Magician is the representation of pure willpower. He connects the heavens and earth. Your mind and your world are reflections of one another. Create your inner world, and the outer will soon follow. New things will come into your life, and you must take action the moment they do. Not doing so will mean missing the greatest opportunity of becoming the best version of you, little one. Choices must be made, and some will be difficult, but as you make these decisions, wonderful changes will come. Then you have The Fool. This is a call to take risks. Each day is a new opportunity for you. The Fool shows you that you can never tell what lies ahead, but you must greet it with joy and courage. You mustn’t be afraid.”
He pushed the last two cards towards the fairy.
“Am I gonna die?” Mingi hiccuped before the witch could speak. The witch laughed out loud, almost looking pained. His hair gleamed under the sunlight. He looked like an angel, a yellow halo illuminating his figure.
“No.” The witch shook a finger at him, the endings of a giggle in his voice. Unlike when his mother did it, it did not make him feel upset. “Death is one of the most positive cards in the deck, despite its name. For you, this ties into all I’ve said before. The old version of you, the self-judging, envious, and fearful fairy, must die to allow the new you to be born. It will be scary because the future is uncertain, but you must remember the Fool, and greet this with joy, and the Magician, and remember that you decide the outcome. If you allow it to be, only good can come of this. And lastly, the Star. This card brings hope and strength. You are so very blessed by the universe, Princess, and you can see it in all that surrounds you. Just look,” Mars smiled, “You’ve found yourself in a place of healing with someone to give you the guidance you require. You need only courage. This is a message to have faith and in doing so, the universe will only bless you more, and bring you all that need and desire.”
“W-what’s gonna happen? For me, I mean.”
“We shall see in time. You were going to ask something else?”
Mingi stared, eyes wide for a moment. He didn’t want to return to his house, to his mother. He liked it here, and he liked Mars even if he’d only just met him. The witch had treated him with a gentleness no one else in his life ever had. Instead of saying that, and asking what he wanted to, he scrubbed at his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater and mumbled, “I should go back to… to Faerie.. My mother will be upset if she gets back and I’m not there.”
“Oh?” The witch crooned, voice laced with interest. There was a knowing smile on his face as he gathered up the cards on the table and reshuffled his deck. Mingi smiled a bit himself. “And why is that?”
“She doesn’t like humans very much and, um, well, she doesn’t want me to be here. On Earth, I mean, not at your house, because it’d be weird if she knew where you lived but—” He was rambling, and the witch looked like he wanted to laugh at him again, and Mingi could feel his cheeks burning. “W-what I mean to say is she doesn’t want me here and she’ll get mad at me if she finds out I was here.”
With his deck of cards in one hand, Mars stood and offered his other hand out to him. “Well, I should think she’ll know you’ve been where you’re not meant to if she sees you like this, little fairy. Come inside and clean up.” Mingi looked down at himself, giggling shyly when he saw all the dried mud and dirt. The witch crooked a finger at him and snapped his teeth playfully. “I don’t bite, promise.”
Somehow, Mingi didn’t believe that. But he wanted to stay, so he got up and followed the witch across the dewy lawn and into his home.
Inside, the magic was much stronger, even cloaked under the witch’s own magic. A strange smell hung in the air too, musky, and though it was not unpleasant, it still made his nose crinkle in distaste. “Others live here with you?”
Mars opened the door to a bedroom down a short hallway and Mingi stood in the doorway patiently, watching the witch rummage through the closet in search of something he deemed suitable for him to change into. Plants covered almost every inch of the bedroom except for the bed and a small portion of a desk that sat against the wall beneath the window. “Yes. My covenmates. All but one have gone out today, though. Perhaps you will meet them next time.” His assertion that there would be a next time itched Mingi’s brain just right, and he smiled shyly, lifting his hand to hide it.
The witch turned from the closet and held up a dress; a full-length midi made of sheer green fabric covered in white flowers. It took conscious effort to try and keep his wings from flapping uncontrollably at the pretty layers and puffy sleeves. From the smile on Mars’ face, he hadn’t succeeded. “Is this alright with you? Only one person here is your size, I’m afraid. He’s quite fond of florals.” He approached with the dress in hand and held it a few inches from his shoulders to check, “And I think it will be a good start, hm?”
Shyly, Mingi nodded, “H-he won’t be upset that I’m wearing his dress?”
“He’s good about sharing. We all are,” was Mars’ reply with a suggestive smile (though Mingi was unsure of what exactly was being suggested). “I’ll show you the bathroom and get you a shower started. Have you eaten at all?”
Offhandedly, and to avoid the question, Mingi murmured, “It’s cold outside.” He tailed the witch as he led him further down the hall to the bathroom, peeking into rooms with open doors as he went. His house was somehow exactly as he’d expected it’d be; soft, earthy tones and comfortable antique furniture, and plenty of bits and baubles on every shelf and table. Mingi’s house was the opposite, overwhelmingly bright and decorated with an abundance of gold and gems and other shiny trinkets his mother had bought. The witch’s house was a welcome change.
“Hm, it is. I suppose you can’t go out in that weather after you’ve bathed. I think you’ll simply have to stay the night,” Mars said, a smile clear in his voice. He hung the dress on a bar on the back of the bathroom door and then turned to Mingi, wasting no time in tugging his muddied sweater over his head and folding it neatly. “I’ll take your shorts and sweater and get them clean for you. After you’ve showered, you can take a bath as well if you’d like. What would you like to eat?”
“I-I’m not very hungry, thank you.” Which was to say that he was, but he hadn’t much at all the last few days out of concern for his weight. Mars waited patiently while he unbuttoned his shorts and shoved them down, wiggling a bit to get them past his hips. Fairies wore no underwear, and Mars did not seem particularly shocked by this. But then, pixies didn’t wear underwear either, so Mingi supposed he was used to it.
He handed his shorts over and the witch frowned at him. “Princess, your body is just fine.”
Mingi flushed. “H-how—”
“You’re more worried about me seeing your stomach than your cock.” Mars made a pointed glance downwards at his arms securely wrapped around his midsection. Mingi squeaked and dropped one hand to cover himself and the witch laughed. “Shush, little one. It’s alright. We’ll work on it. It’s okay. I’ll make you a cake and get you a tall glass of cream. That’ll settle you, hm?”
“I— A-alright... that sounds nice.” Mingi shuffled to the side, towards the tub, “I, um, I appreciate your kindness.”
Mars waved a hand dismissively, patted him on the head, and left him with an order to meet him in the kitchen when he’d cleaned up.
Once alone, Mingi stepped into the tub and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. He shivered at the heat and took his time scrubbing at his skin and hair. He could hear Mars faintly and not being alone in a house for once brought comfort. Fairies were social creatures, most of them anyway, and they loved to be around people; Mingi was no different. Being here, even with just Mars and the stranger upstairs, was enough to make his insides feel warm and content.
Mars wasn’t at all like the humans his mother had described. The witch was kind, if not a bit stern, in a maternal way. And he was wonderful at his craft, each word having unravelled all he’d been feeling deep within him for as long as he could remember by this point.
It had been a while since he’d last taken care of himself beyond a tired face washing in the morning and a face mask when he could muster up the energy for it. He didn’t feel that he deserved it, but he couldn’t continue like this either. He had the choice to begin making changes for his own sake or to continue hurting himself. Mars had made it clear that he was responsible for how this would end and Mingi knew that the witch could only help as much as he allowed him to.
The fairy took a bath after there wasn’t a speck of dirt left on his skin. There was an abundance of soaps, oils, and salts and because he had never been good at decisions, he used them all. His mother wouldn’t have returned home by now, but he couldn’t be sure. Time ran differently between the realms; in the City, time ran slower, days lasting forever before a new one began, so that fairies had plenty of time to dance, and sing, and participate in numerous other pastimes. In the human realm, time was faster. The days were shorter. Already, the sky had begun to darken outside, the sun drifting slowly out of view as if it wasn’t quite ready to depart yet.
His mother would be angry, more angry than she’d ever been in her life if she knew where he was now. And, perhaps horribly, Mingi could not bring himself to care a bit as he lounged beneath a mountain of warm bubbles and the sweet smell of a cake wafted in from the kitchen. The City was nice, sure, but this was better.
When the water grew cold, Mingi stepped out, and pulled a towel from off the small rack next to the tub to dry off. He flapped his wings to shake off some of the moisture, but it’d take much, much longer for them to dry fully. He thought about what the other fairies would think of him when he pulled on the dress, knowing that they’d pick at him for it. Pretty as every fairy was, there were still rigid lines between the males and females; as far as he knew, it wasn’t all that different from humans. Mars seemed to be an exception to this and Mingi was with him, and not with the other fairies, and though he had not known him long, he knew that Mars would not laugh at him or whisper behind his back when he thought he could not hear.
Mingi rubbed at his eyes and yawned as he walked to the kitchen, nearly knocking over the trinkets lining the shelves in his occupation with the layer and layers of soft, sheer fabric of his dress. He was tired and it was around the time fairies usually napped before they continued their play, and even if he stayed in the house all day, that hadn’t stopped him from adhering to the custom in between his reading sessions.
“Mars, I-I finished. I tried not to leave a mess...” He said as he entered, voice petering off to a mumble when he caught sight of a man, likely the person he’d seen in the upstairs window, sitting at the head of the table, arms crossed over his chest. Averting his eyes, he raised his hand in a small wave.
Mars turned and set down the icing-covered knife he was holding. “Come here, let me see you, Princess,” He said, even though a moment later, he was the one coming over to clutch at his shoulders and look him up and down with a smile. “It’s perfect. I think it suits you well. Perhaps next time I’m out, I’ll have the chance to buy you some more dresses like this. Maybe some shorter ones too... show off those pretty legs, hm?”
Mingi clutched fistfuls of his dress in hand, face red from the attention. He did not think he had pretty legs and he certainly didn’t want Mars spending money on him. Mars didn’t seem to notice and pulled out a chair for him, one a little too close to the stranger for his liking. “Ah, Princess, this is one of my covenmates, you may call him Joong. He won’t hurt you, don’t be frightened.”
Shy, Mingi shuffled forward and stood behind his appointed seat. “H-Hello.”
Joong stared at him, narrowed eyes raking over his body, and lips curled up slightly. Mingi squirmed under his scrutiny, fists clenched at his sides. He felt tiny despite their size difference. Joong smirked, sharp, white fangs on display. “You’re my witch’s new friend then, hm?” His eyes were fixated on his chest, hooded and dark.
Mingi glanced down at himself, confused, but found nothing that he could be staring at — perhaps he just found it hard to hold eye contact — and then looked to Mars, who only motioned with his hand for him to answer before he returned to spreading icing on his cake.
“W-we’ve just met, sir.” Mingi felt quite small under the intensity of the man’s gaze. He couldn’t quite place what he was but he knew that he was powerful, dangerous even, and his magic was ancient. “My mother says someone is only your friend if you’ve known them for a long time. She’s known all her friends for a lot of years.”
“Ah, really?” Joong motioned for him to sit, and Mingi took it as though an order, dropping into the cushioned chair without hesitation. Quickly, he determined that Joong was intimidating — or perhaps he was just intimidated by him — and that he was more austere than Mars. “I think you’ll find, Princess, that in this house, time is not of much importance to us. When you’ve lived as long as us, you begin to realize that all that truly matters is the present. One cannot put a time requirement on a bond.”
“Oh.” Mingi supposed it made sense. There had been friends he had in the past who he’d connected with quickly, like they’d known each other as long as his mother said they needed to before they were ‘real’ friends. “I... Um... A-about your pixie— i-is, are they...”
“Our pixie?” Joong raised an eyebrow, eyes drifting up lazily to meet his.
“I can sense d-different magics,” Mingi hurried to explain, the man’s gaze making his stomach wind in on itself uncomfortably. “That’s how I found Mars, I followed his magic. Pixie magic isn’t that different from fairy magic even though we’re not that closely related. There’s a nature spirit too, but I don’t know exactly what they are,” He paused to look away from Joong, focusing instead on the grain of the table. “I can’t tell what you or the others are though. I-I’ve never felt magic like it before.”
Mars interrupted by setting a slice of cake and a tall glass of cream in front of him. “We do have a pixie. The nature spirit is a nymph. Our other covenmates are a werewolf and kitsune, respectively. Will you and the pixie take issue with one another? We can make accommodations if need be.”
Fairies and pixies weren’t on good terms with one another; it was a natural feud that had come about many years ago and had continued throughout each following generation. Although Mingi felt slight distaste at the thought of being in the same house as a pixie, he was just a guest and this was their home, and the pixie was their covenmate, which was clearly something important to them. “No. I won’t start anything, I promise. I’m sure we’ll learn to... tolerate each other.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll be sure to tell him to be civil with you when everyone arrives home.”
Mingi picked at his cake with his fingers and nearly moaned at the fluffy, sweet treat. For a moment, he was occupied with the lemon-flavoured cake and focused on enjoying it until he remembered that he’d meant to ask Joong a question.
He was startled when he looked up and found the man already staring at him, as thought he’d been waiting. “Joong, um... what are you?”
“I’m a vampire,” He answered, arms dropping from his chest as Mars settled in his lap, and then wrapping around the witch’s thin waist. Mars wasn’t that much smaller than him, but he still fit perfectly in Joong’s lap. The sight made Mingi pout slightly and he looked away in favour of drinking his cream.
“What’s a vampire?” The word was familiar. He vaguely remembered his mother going on a Hunt when he was a child and mentioning the word in a hushed conversation with his eldest brother.
“We’re undead beings that feed on the essence of the living — blood, usually; though I’ve known vampires from my past that fed on the very souls of the living.” Distaste soured the vampire’s tone, “Such a thing isn’t practical and it isn’t common anymore outside of the more barbaric of my kind. A person can always make more blood, but they can not make another soul.”
Mingi didn’t like the sound of that, taking someone’s blood or soul; it didn’t seem right even if Joong had to do it to live. He squirmed in his seat, and despite being the biggest person in the room, he felt small but, strangely, not in a bad way. He’d sort that out later. Another long sip of his cream only served to loosen his lips and make him giggly. He’d never been good at holding his liquor, which was what cream was to a fairy. “That doesn’t sound very nice,” he blurted before he could stop himself. “I like my blood inside of me.”
Joong only smiled and reached over to thumb at the cream staining the corner of his lips. He blinked rapidly and giggled wildly as the vampire murmured, “I only feed from my lovers, little fairy. You needn’t worry.”
Mingi didn’t register much after that, for his eyelids had begun to droop and he was too busy burying his nose in his glass and greedily drinking up his cream.
“Poor thing,” Mars said. “Come, let’s get you to bed, little fairy.”
He whined when the empty cup was taken from him, and an arm wrapped firmly about his waist and lifted him up, gently guiding him along to a warm, pillowy bed. He was tucked in and after the ghost of a kiss atop his head. That night, he dreamed of Mars and Joong, and not being so frightened anymore.
By early morning, Mingi was in a rainbow puff dress that settled at mid-thigh and once again sat at the kitchen table while Mars made mustard pancakes — which he’d promised would taste delicious — and he cut up berries to put on top. Berry juice had spurted all over the table, but Mars hadn’t scolded him, only chuckled and said, “It’s alright, honey. We’ll clean it up together.”
The chair beside him was pulled out while he was cutting up raspberries and dropping them into a small bowl along with plump, dewy red strawberries. “Good morning, Mars! Hi, my name is San! What’s your name?”
“‘What are you called',” Mars corrected gently, “He’s a fairy, San, I told you that before you went to bed. It’s impolite to ask for his true name. He will tell you on his own terms.”
“Oh, right,” San giggled and sneaked a slice of strawberry, leaning into his space. Mingi did not feel uncomfortable with the intrusion and blinked wide-eyed at the sleek, black ears popping out from his messy black hair. “Sor— I mean, I apologize. What are you called, fairy? I’ve never met a fairy before and trust me, I’ve been all over!” His three tails were swaying in the air, fluffed and excited.
Mingi gave San a small smile. “Princess... It’s nice to meet you, S-San. Is that... is that your real name?”
“Yeah. That’s okay, right? I mean— I trust you, so it’s okay?”
“You trust me?”
San patted under his chin like he was a kitten. His palms started to sweat and San laughed at him, “Of course. You wouldn’t be here if Joongie and Mars thought you weren’t trustworthy, so I trust you.”
“You’re too trusting, San.” Mingi tensed. A pixie sidled up to Mars’ side and picked up a pancake from off the eye of the stove. His wings were gorgeous, patterned like a butterfly’s, and fluttering lightly. He eyed Mingi, lips set in a frown. “Fairy,” he spat. And with that, he left the kitchen.
“Don’t mind Sangie,” San said softly, “He’s really nice when you get to know him.”
Another person entered the kitchen after him and didn’t make a move to acknowledge him, instead going to the witch’s side and planting a kiss on his cheek. Softly, Mars knocked his head against his, minding the soft black wolf ears, and said, “Introduce yourself to Princess.”
San gripped onto Mingi’s wrist and stole another slice of strawberry, eyeing the werewolf. Mingi avoided the werewolf’s sharp gaze as he whirled around to face them. “My name’s Wooyoung,” He said after a tense moment of complete silence between them. Wooyoung snatched up San’s wrist, “Let’s go, Sannie. I wanted to go see Yeonjun today, remember?”
A strangled sound fell from San’s lips as Wooyoung ripped him from his seat, “I wanna eat breakfast! Stop—”
“We can eat when we get there, San. Let’s go.”
The door slammed behind the two and Mingi chewed at his lip, blinking tearfully at Mars’ back. “Wooyoung and Sangie don’t like me.”
Mars tutted at him. “They’re just a bit apprehensive, that’s all. New people are hard for them. Wooyoung told you his name, that means he wants to trust you. Probably, anyway. Most times, I don’t know what goes on in his head. Anyhow, they’ll get used to you in time,” he assured the fairy before setting a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Eat. Then you can help me organize my cabinet. Does that sound okay?”
Mingi pouted and piled berries atop his stack of pancakes. “Okay...”
He didn’t meet Mars’ nymph until he was sitting on the witch’s bedroom floor, sorting through his crystals. There were more than Mingi could count and while many looked the same, Mars insisted they weren’t and Mingi could tell the longer he handled him.
“Mars, Joongie needs you!” A voice yelled as the door slammed open.
“He’s supposed to be sleeping,” the witch replied, more focused on organizing his spell books and leather-bound travel journals.
The nymph whined and his voice took on a more exasperated tone. “Mars, mama, he needs you. I can finish for you. I know how! He said it’s important. I sneaked a look and it didn’t look very good. It was about…” He seemed to notice Mingi then and his voice got a little higher as he quickly steered from what he was going to say originally, “It was about… you know…”
Mingi blinked up at the witch, watched him sigh and smile fondly with a small shake of his head. He turned and crouched down to his level, “I have to go handle this. It’s very… important, Princess. I’ll be back in no more than an hour, alright? Until then, Yuyu will keep you company. Just follow his lead and when you’re done, we’ll all find something to do together.”
“A-alright, um… is everything okay?” Mars face took on a strangled sort of look, like he was worried. Even so, the witch nodded firmly.
“Everything is just fine. Nothing you need to worry about.” The witch patted his head and stood, swiftly exiting the room, hands clutching at his dress.
Mingi looked up at Yuyu. He was big and soft all over, the apples of his cheeks flushed and pretty, and hair the colours of sherbet with little butterfly clips and ribbons in it. The nymph approached him almost shyly, hands clasped in front of him. “Hi,” he murmured, swaying from side to side, his soft pink dress swinging along with the slow movement, “You’re really pretty. I like your face!”
He turned and took over Mars’ job, sliding a few journals into place on the sixth shelf of his cabinet. Mingi was speechless. “We should go outside when we finish! Mars can take us to the meadow and we can make flower crowns and have a picnic.”
“Um— whatever you want to do, I wanna do too,” Mingi sputtered, gathering the crystals Mars had set aside to go in his cabinet up in the skirt of his dress and stumbling to his feet. “Where do I put these? What about the rest of them?”
“Right here. Mars is very particular about these things.” Yuyu patted one of the shelves. “Organize by colour, he likes it better that way. I’ll handle the rest. How long are you going to stay?”
Mingi didn’t answer right away. To be honest, he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t put much thought into that just yet. He didn’t know exactly how much time had passed back home either, though he was at least sure it wasn’t too much. Certainly no more than a day or two, although he couldn’t be sure.
Mars likely knew a lot of witches, perhaps he knew Namjoon? Then he could ask Hoseok… “I’m not sure. I haven’t decided.”
Yuyu nodded and smiled at him. “That’s okay. I’d really like it if you’d stay, though.”
Thankfully, they fell into a comfortable silence after that. Mingi was not quite sure how to feel about the nymph wanting him to stay. It was strange to him that he seemed to want him around. He didn’t seem to share Wooyoung and Sangie’s wariness around him. He appreciated it, but it unsettled him a bit too.
Mars returned to them a while later; Mingi thought he looked paler than usual but somehow flushed at the same time, and he was trembling a bit as he walked, but he smiled all the same although Mingi could tell it was strained with worry? Fear? Whatever it was, it was not good. “I appreciate you both helping me. You did a very good job,” he mused as he looked over his cabinet, double-checking everything was just to his liking before shutting the doors once more.
“Can we take Princess to the meadow for a picnic, pretty please, Mars?”
“Mmh, I don’t see a problem with that. But we’ll have to return before sundown. It’s your night with Joong, remember?”
Yuyu stuck his tongue out at Mars and ran out of the room. Mingi did not think he was very happy about having to come home early. “Are Yuyu and Joong going out on a date?”
Mars giggled, “Something like that. Come, let’s go get a basket packed. I think we’ll be meeting Yuyu there.”
The meadow was pretty, the grass a pretty shade of almost forest green and teeming with soft-petalled flowers of all colours. Mingi loved it, felt at home with the familiarity of it all, and felt pleased because he knew this meadow had flourished because of the nymph. He was rather good at what he did.
Yuyu was all giggly and happy when they arrived and impatiently pulled Mingi to sit with him on the picnic blanket once Mars set it out for them. Mars left them with the picnic basket, “I’ll let you two have fun. I’ll just be over that way. I need more flowers for home. I won’t be far.”
Mingi felt a bit frightened that the witch was leaving him alone with Yuyu, but refused to show it. He smiled and picked a few flowers carefully, deciding he would make a flower crown for the witch, a pretty one, one he was more than deserving of. “A-alright,” he said quietly, “We’ll see you.”
The silence between them once Mars left was uncomfortable though not unpleasant. It was… strange, but Mingi focused on making Mars’ flower crown of lavender, alyssum, and peach blossoms.
“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” Yuyu asked suddenly, lips wrapped around a honey lollipop.
“No…” Mingi continued to make his flower crown, “Should I have?” No one back home was really interested in him, not like that, so he had obviously never kissed anyone. He wanted to, very badly, but he had long since accepted that it likely wouldn’t happen.
Yuyu giggled and grabbed onto the back of his dress, tugging gently. “I’ll kiss you! Let’s kiss.”
Mingi laughed awkwardly, biting down on his lip. He didn’t think they should, especially with Mars not far off. What would he think? He wasn’t completely sure what being in a coven entailed, but he thought for sure that they were at least sort of together. It wouldn’t feel right to kiss the nymph knowing that.
“Come on,” Yuyu whined at him, tapping the back of his thigh lightly. “It’ll be fun, I promise. I’m really good at it.” Hesitantly, Mingi rolled over and sat up, and the nymph wriggled in excitement, tugging him close until they sat, knees touching.
He grinned, cheeks bright pink, and reached out to hold Mingi’s arms, thumbs brushing over the skin comfortingly. “Just... just do what I do, okay?” Yuyu whispered as he leaned in.
Mingi swallowed and nodded, breath catching in his throat as the nymph’s nose bumped against his, and his lips pressed against his own. It was soft and Yuyu seemed more excited than him, teeth clacking against his and giggles spilling from his lips.
Mingi couldn’t help but laugh a little himself, squealing a bit as the nymph nipped at his lip sharply and warmly cupped his cheek. He clung to his dress and leaned into the nymph, doing his best to keep up. He found it to be quite the struggle at first, having never kissed someone before. But Yuyu took things slowly and did not rush him; it did not take more than a few minutes for Mingi to catch onto things at last.
When they pulled apart, their noses were still touching, foreheads rested against each other. They panted against one another’s lips.
Yuyu smiled and let out a shaky, breathless giggle, “I’m Yunho.”
Mingi giggled too. “I-I’m Mingi.” He licked his lips before adding, “But you can’t tell anyone.”
“I would never,” Yunho said earnestly, a playful glint in his eyes. He surged forward and kissed him again, this time shoving him back onto the blankets with a wild laugh. Mingi giggled and beamed freely, knowing all at once that Yunho and he would be the very best of friends.
Mars had thought it a good idea, with winter coming in now, that Wooyoung should get more comfortable with him. Mingi thought it was a silly idea, but the witch would not let it go because none of them, save Hongjoong, would be going out very often and they needed to ‘get used to one another’.
Mingi was well and used to Wooyoung, well and used to avoiding him as much as possible. Wooyoung was well and used to much the same. Mars was not happy with that.
As such, Mingi, along with Wooyoung, had been tasked with preparing a large pot of beef stew, enough to last them for the next week so none of them would have to cook. They were all much more interested in cuddling and relaxing, you see.
But with the two of them forced into the kitchen with one another, Mingi did not know how Mars had not expected tensions to rise.
Wooyoung was not happy with his being there in the first place, let alone to be forced to spend time with him, and that much showed in how he had been going off at him at every opportunity. Mingi was trying not to cry by this point.
“You could be nicer,” he said, managing to keep that awful watery sound out of his voice.
“You haven’t earned that. Nice try, fairy. What are you even here for anyways, huh? Love? Because you won’t get it here,” Wooyoung snapped, suddenly chopping the vegetables with more force than was necessary. Mingi flinched at the sound of the knife roughly smacking into the wood, hands trembling as he added spices to the broth boiling on the stove. “Well?”
Mingi pursed his lips and closed his eyes, already feeling the beginnings of wetness in his eyes and tightness in his throat. “N-no. I’m not here for… for that.” He carefully started to pick up the vegetables Wooyoung was sliding off the cutting board towards him. “Mars wanted me to stay.” It wasn’t technically a lie. “And I want to… I want to heal, I suppose.”
Wooyoung snorted, snorted, as though his response was stupid or funny and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course that’s why. You know you’re fucking transparent, right?” He slammed his knife down and turned to him with an annoyed look. “I know exactly why you’re here. I’ve seen how you look at Mars and Yunho and everyone else too when you think no one is watching. It might be news to you, but we’re together, and we’re very happy together. We’ve been doing just fine with it being the six of us and we don’t need you messing things up. We don’t need anyone else. It’s taken us years to get where we are, to learn each other and how to love each other. Another person will screw things up and mean more learning and re-figuring out where everyone fits in all over again. You’re just a guest. That’s it.”
“I didn’t want that,” Mingi whispered, hands trembling further at the accusation that he was only here to be with them. “I don’t want that. I know I’m just a guest.”
“Then act like it.” Wooyoung picked up the knife again and started to slice some tomatoes. “I’ve never liked fairies. You’re stupid things, wasting your stupid fucking lives away with your dancing and frivolous vain, judgemental bullshit. You have no idea just how hard shit is for the rest of us, do you?”
Mingi shook his head. He didn’t and couldn’t say that he did. “I could learn,” he said desperately, unsure of what else there was to say.
“It’s not something you just learn, you idiot!” Mingi could tell Wooyoung was getting more and more frustrated with him and he didn’t know what to do to help. “We’re not just together for love! It’s for protection a-and safety! There’s hunters out there! Human hunters, Princess! Worse than that, there’s fairies, fairies like you, who hunt werewolves and vampires! And they do it for fun! At least the humans have a fucking reason!”
Mingi winced. “I… I know, trust me, I do. I’ve heard about the hunts. But I-I’m not like them! I’m not here to hurt any of you! I would never! I would never do that to any of you, Wooyoung, I swear.” He couldn’t help but fear what Wooyoung would say if he knew that his family, his own mother and brothers had all participated in a Hunt.
The Hunts were events that all fairies, no matter their Court, participated in. They were seen as a relatively fun pastime. Mingi personally thought they were horrible, but many did not share that view. He did not know all they entailed, but knew they chased their prey and taunted them. At least, that was what his mother had told him. To fairies, it was simply a game. Hunts often took place in the human realm, though others were occasionally frequented, and usually had a single target in mind that was most often a human who had vexed a fairy in some way. Other creatures were not exempt; werewolves and witches were the most common, and in a few rare instances, pixies.
“Oh, really?” Wooyoung scoffed. “So you’ve never hunted one of us? None of your family? Your friends?”
“I-I…” Mingi closed his eyes and took a deep breath before responding, “I haven’t. I wouldn’t. But..but my family has. My mom and my brothers. I don’t have any friends that have. I don’t have any friends back home, really.”
Wooyoung did not like that answer. His hand clenched tighter around his knife. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t hunt. Your family does. Do you really think any of us want to be around someone who would live with people like that? Who would love people like that?”
Mingi made a strangled noise, mind blanking and any words he could have said catching in his throat. Eventually, he croaked, “That’s not fair, Wooyoung, and you know it! I can’t control my family and what they do! They’re just hunts! It’s not like anyone gets killed!”
“My father was murdered in a hunt, you fucking idiot!” Wooyoung yelled. Mingi stepped back in fear as the werewolf turned to him and stepped closer. “You really expect me to believe you don’t know what goes on in those hunts? They chase us, they chase us for hours, sometimes days—”
“I don’t know! I’ve never been—”
“They taunt us and shoot at us. We can’t sleep out of fear they will find us or catch us if we stop for even a moment. We can’t even eat to keep our energy up. All we can do is run and hope they’ll stop, knowing deep down, that they won’t. They don’t allow us a moment of peace. And when we’re so fucking tired that we can’t go on anymore, or we straight up collapse—”
“Wooyoung, stop!” Mingi yelled, frantically moving away from the werewolf as he closed in, waving the knife in his face dangerously.
“They kill us. That’s the fucking point of a hunt, Princess,” Wooyoung spat. “To kill. And that is what they do. And they love—” He stopped suddenly, eyes widened and lips parted in what seemed like shock. Mingi thought perhaps Hongjoong was coming down from his study, that the vampire had heard everything and had enough of it.
“What’s wrong? Wooyoung, what—” Then Mingi looked down and froze.
Mingi didn’t feel anything for the first few seconds, too shocked at the sight of a knife buried to the hilt in his stomach and Wooyoung’s hand still wrapped around the handle. Wooyoung snapped out of his trance and pulled his hand off the knife. “M-Mars! Joong!” he yelled, “Come here! P-please!”
Then the pain hit.
When Mingi was little, he climbed onto the roof of their old house to play. The roof had still been wet from a rare night in which it had rained. He had slipped on a loose tile and fallen off, and when he landed, a jagged piece of wood had gone halfway through his right thigh. That had hurt unlike anything he’d ever felt before and it was worse when his brothers came running after hearing his screams and had to lift him off.
There had been blood everywhere, his skin flapping off from the jagged edges cutting through it as they pulled him off. It had felt so hot inside his leg and then it steadily grew colder and colder, like when his fingertips froze when they visited their grandparents in the White Gardens, but worse.
This felt like that. Except, somehow, far more dreadful. It was the burning and searing pain first, coupled with the shock that he’d been stabbed in the first place. His stomach turned violently and he felt so nauseous, he broke out in a cold sweat and went lightheaded. “W-wooyoung—” he whispered, voice cracking around his panicked gasps.
“Hongjoong! Seonghwa!” Wooyoung screamed, though Mingi couldn’t comprehend a word coming from his mouth since the first time he’d yelled out. He could see the werewolf’s lips moving, but it was as though nothing was actually coming out. Mingi thought it looked sort of funny even, but he couldn’t laugh.
His breath started to come out in sharp, breathless pants and he whimpered.
Mingi thought Mars and Joong must have come down because Wooyoung disappeared from his field of vision then reappeared after just a few seconds with them. Mars touched him first, “Princess. Princess, look at me. Can you hear me, darling? Come back to me. I have you.”
He could only manage a weak nod. Joong was yelling and Wooyoung was too, maybe crying as well?, and it hurt his ears. Mars whisked him off before he could tune in fully and try to understand what was happening, what had just happened.
Mars made him lay down on the couch and Mingi let him. It didn’t feel like he could control his own body, like he was simply on auto-pilot, or a doll that Mars was just maneuvering as he needed.
“Princess, talk to me. What happened?”
“I…” Mingi made a strange, choking noise and looked at Mars, though he looked a bit faceless, then down at his stomach. Another round of panic washed over him as he realized, truly realized, there was a knife inside of him. “Wooyoung… Woo…”
“Nevermind that. You’re fine. You’re going to be fine. Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.”
Mingi nodded, though it wasn’t like he could go anywhere. Mars rushed off and Mingi laid there, gasping and flexing his blood soaked hands over his stomach.
Everything after that was a blur.
He vaguely remembered Mars screaming at the others to get out and leave him alone, that they were only going to overwhelm him and he needed peace to work. Mars had been crying. Mingi had wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears, but he found that he couldn’t even lift an arm, let alone speak to tell him that he was okay, it had only been an accident.
He also remembered, at some point in his daze, hearing Joong, felt him hovering over him and stroking at his hair, damp from sweat, and saying something, though he could not make out exactly what. He thought he felt a kiss on his forehead. Then Joong had gone and all he heard after that, for a long while, were screams and cries. They were distant, though, from upstairs, maybe?
There were bits and pieces of other things, but they all blurred together too, and did not make much sense when Mingi woke up after falling asleep at some point. He was in Mars and Joong’s bed and it was far too warm for him to stand. He shoved off the blankets weakly only to have them pulled back up again. He was grateful, though, because in the split second without the blanket, it had gotten too cold.
“Princess,” Mars breathed. He sat down beside him and leaned over him, cupping his cheeks gently. “You’re alright now. I did my best.” He pursed his lips and rested a hand on his stomach, “I didn’t know how you would react to too much of my magic so I couldn’t do very much for your pain. I tried, though.”
“Wooyoung…” Mingi whispered, putting his hand on top of Mars and letting out a small, pained whimper.
“Was punished very severely, I promise you.” Mars took his hand in his and squeezed it gently. “You shouldn’t have entertained that conversation, Princess. You shouldn’t have. Wooyoung has always had a hot head.”
Mingi licked his lips and pulled away, trying to sit up. He winced when he felt pain shoot through his stomach, straight through him, just like the knife had. He panted a little and closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks as he finally comprehended the entirety of the situation. Wooyoung had gotten mad at him, mad enough to stab him, all over something he had nothing to do with, something he hadn’t even known about.
He sniffled and whimpered, “It wasn’t his fault, Mars. I made him mad. I didn’t know. I-I didn’t know.”
Mars shushed him. “No. It was not your fault. Wooyoung had no business antagonizing you in the first place. Don’t you ever blame yourself for another’s actions. Do you understand me? Do not do it, Princess. Try and rest, alright? Everything will be fine.”
“Can you… can you make me honey cakes?” Mingi laid back down and wiped away his tears. They kept coming anyway. “Those always made me feel better when I was sick. My big brother makes the best ones. Could you try?”
“Of course I can.” Mars cupped his cheeks and gave him a kiss. “Rest now, fairy.”
__________
The next few days were painful, to say the least. Yunho and San doted on him at all hours of the day, essentially waiting on him hand and foot. He was sure they were doing it because they felt bad, especially San. Mingi wished they didn’t.
Mars was at his side constantly. He redressed his wound every single day and made him stay in bed so he could rest and not agitate his stomach with too much movement. But Mingi didn’t mind.
If he could, he would have healed himself, but fairies could only use their magic on others (save for glamour). One of the perks of being a fairy, however, was they healed much faster than any human did. So after almost a week after the incident, Mingi was finally allowed to leave bed and roam around the house again. The wound had healed to no more than a scar, but it still hurt. They found that human pain medications worked, to a certain extent, thankfully. Mars gave him some when it got too bad to bear.
Wooyoung avoided him like the plague. Surprisingly, Mingi hated it. But he thought perhaps the werewolf was too scared to approach him anymore after how harshly Joong had punished him. And it had been harsh. San told him Joong had not been nice at all.
Mingi truly didn’t know exactly how to feel about the whole situation. He had never been one to hold grudges over anything. He didn’t feel angry, or even the slightest bit upset. When he thought about it, there was only a sort of numbness, like it hadn’t even really happened in the first place.
“Are you sure I can’t go with them?” Mingi pouted as Mars set him up on the couch with plenty of pillows tucked behind his back and a blanket over his lap. “I’m tired of being in the house all day.”
“I know. Maybe we can go out to the orchard sometime, when you’re a bit better. But just rest for now, Princess,” Mars said warmly, running his knuckles across Mingi’s cheek. “I promise you’ll be able to join them another time.”
Mingi frowned, but could not deny that the idea of staying home, curled up on the living room couch by the fireplace was more preferable to going into town and overwhelming himself with all the people; the Bazaar back in the City was often too much for him at times. “Yes, Mars,” He murmured and settled down, resting his head against the arm of the couch.
The witch leaned down to kiss his forehead and then the tip of his nose, and flitted off to the kitchen to join Wooyoung in preparing dinner.
Currently, Mingi was reading a book he’d borrowed from Joong’s extensive library. It wasn’t very interesting, simply an agonizingly detailed history of vampires, but it kept him occupied. Besides, the vampire had mentioned he was somewhere in it, and Mingi rather wanted to see what history had to say about him.
Not more than an hour later, he heard the back screen door open. And not long after that, Sangie trudged into the living room, hair mussed from sleep and sweater paws rubbing at his eyes. Mingi liked how he looked when he woke up; soft and sweet, yet still somehow carrying an intensity that made him shiver.
The pixie paused in the doorway and smiled at him in a strange, warm sort of way.
Mingi squeaked and brought his book up to hide behind. He peeked over the top and the pixie’s smile only grew, almost as if he was amused. “What are you doing, Princess?”
Sangie combed through his hair with his fingers to tame it as he approached. Gently, he lifted Mingi’s legs, took their place, and allowed his legs to rest across his lap.
“R-reading. Hiding,” Mingi replied, still peeking at him from behind his book. The pixie’s hands ran over his calf, smoothing circles into the warm, bare skin. Despite the warmth in the room, Mingi shivered and goosebumps rose on his skin. “D-did you, um… did you sleep well, Sangie?”
The pixie hummed in response, glancing into the kitchen to watch Mars and Wooyoung. Mingi returned to his reading, assuming he did not want to speak any further. He found it hard to focus with Sangie’s hands on him, caressing him as though he were a kitten. He’d never touched him this much before. It was a bit disarming, made him a bit concerned that perhaps he had something else up his sleeve… but on the other hand, he knew that the pixie would never actually hurt him; Joong wouldn’t allow it, and despite their feud, which was more superficial than anything, he certainly didn’t dislike him enough to do something like that. And after what Wooyoung had done, he knew the pixie wouldn’t dare.
Joong was mentioned in the book as a certain Kim Hongjoong, and it went into great detail on his rather crucial role in the beginnings of the new era of vampires (the ones who fed on only what they needed, and did not feed on souls). Mingi couldn’t understand the politics of it all, in fact, he found it rather boring, but the drawings were rather nice. He looked young as he did now, but was almost unrecognizable to the fairy if not for his facial features.
It was hard to imagine that Hongjoong had lived for so very long, watching the world change so quickly, and having no one to rely on before he met Mars. The vampire had never gone into much detail about how he and Mars met, only told him one night as they both sat in front of his fireplace that it was at a time in his life where he was horribly injured and in desperate need of someone’s care and assurance that it was alright to rest, that he need not carry the world on his shoulders. Mingi hoped he’d hear the full story one day.
“I was thinking...” Sangie said suddenly, startling Mingi. The fairy glanced up at him, curious, and Sangie watched him, eyes flickering over his face as though searching for something. Mingi flushed at the scrutiny and pointedly looked down at the picture of Hongjoong, running a finger over his dark hair. “You’re not all that bad, for a fairy.”
Mingi returned his gaze to Sangie’s face. There wasn’t a hint of insincerity to be found in his eyes. Hands trembling and clutching at the edges of his book, Mingi mumbled, “Y-you’re not all that bad for a pixie.”
He smiled and squeezed Mingi’s calf, staring into the fireplace. The warm orange glow on his skin, and the flames dancing in his eyes looked prettier than anything Mingi had ever seen. Sangie was truly the most beautiful pixie he’d ever laid eyes upon, and any fairy would be willing to admit he was as beautiful, if not more, than the most beautiful of fairies. Sangie tapped a soft beat against his skin, then murmured, “I’m sorry for treating you so meanly. It’s just… you were a fairy. Are a fairy, I mean. And I’ve always just been a bit wary with new people. The fairy part didn’t help. I’m working on that. I’m really sorry.”
Mingi dropped his book with a soft gasp. “Don’t say that, Sangie!” he whispered, panic creeping into his voice. He drew his legs back and shifted onto his hands and knees, closing the few inches of space between them. “You don’t mean that. You can’t say that. You know what that means to me. To a fairy.”
“I want you to call me Yeosang. That’s my name.” Smiling, Yeosang reached up to cup his cheek, thumb running over his lower lip. He pressed his mouth open and Mingi let him, too stunned to say otherwise. “I do mean it. And whatever you ask of me, I’ll do, Princess. I owe that to you.”
The sureness, the sincerity, in his voice was a lot, too much even, for him — it was overwhelming. To be told sorry and for the pixie (a pixie) to give him his name; there was far too much trust in that for him. It was frightening.
Mingi swallowed thickly, hands trembling as Yeosang took them in his own, smaller hands. His hands were big compared to the pixie’s, and normally Mingi would have felt insecure about that, but Yeosang's hands held him firmly, so soft and veiny and strong. “T-then… I, m-my name is Mingi,” he whispered.
Yeosang turned to him, giggling suddenly, and drew his legs up onto the couch. “Mingi, can I give you a gift?”
And now he meant to give him a gift! Mingi’s laughter came out high-pitched and shaky and he pulled his hands out of Yeosang’s grasp to tug at his now-fading hair. “I…” he laughed some more, hoping Yeosang couldn’t tell how nervous he was.
“Please,” Yeosang said, taking his hands again, “It’ll be fun. It’ll be okay. Mars… Mars thought it’d be a good idea if I was the one to show you, give it to you, I mean. But we have to go to my room.”
Mingi pursed his lips and stared down at his lap, squirming in place. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted the pixie’s gift, he felt undeserving of whatever it might be. He squeezed the pixie’s hands tightly and looked at Wooyoung. The werewolf hadn’t gone out of his way to be very kind to him and he feared he’d only grow angrier if he knew that he and the pixie were on good terms. Pleading, he whispered, “Y-Yeosang... I— I can’t accept it. Wooyoung. He’ll be so upset with me. I don’t— I can’t—”
Yeosang frowned at him and moved a hand forward, resting it over his stomach. The wound may have been a scar now but it still very much hurt him, physically and emotionally. Wooyoung had hurt him on purpose without reason. Mingi bit back a soft cry and placed a hand over Yeosang’s. “Please, Yeosang.”
“Wooyoung!”
“Yes, Yeosangie?”
His grip on Yeosang’s hand tightened as Wooyoung whirled around to face them and a strange expression crossed his face briefly, before he seemed to force a smile.
“I’m giving Princess a gift. Do you have a problem with that?” There was a harsh edge to his voice, as though he was daring Wooyoung to say that he did. It made Mingi shiver and look away from the werewolf’s gaze.
Wooyoung stared at them, eyed where Yeosang had placed his hand, and then slowly shook his head. “I... um, no. No. I don’t... have a problem with that, Yeosang, sir. I’m sure he’ll—” He paused, and looked at Mingi. For once, his eyes held no hate. Mingi couldn’t place the emotion he saw there. “You’ll like it. Yeosangie always picks the best gifts for us.”
Yeosang nodded and turned his attention back to Mingi, eyebrow raised. Mingi moved his hand from his stomach and startled when he said, “What do you say?”
Mingi felt wicked and wretched when he clung to Yeosang’s warm hands, shimmering and soft under the glow of the fire, and whispered, “I’d like it... Your gift. Please.”
Yeosang held his hand tenderly and guided him down the hall to his bedroom. To Mingi, it was one of the most sacred places in the world, full of golden light and vibrant colours. It overwhelmed him like his mother’s home, stuffed to the brim with gold and silver and sparkly things, did but in a different way, a familiar and good way.
“Take off your clothes and lay down.”
“W-what?”
“Your clothes,” Yeosang repeated, “Take them off. Lay down.” He smiled again. “Don’t worry. You won’t be the only one naked.”
Trusting this was somehow a part of the gift, Mingi tried to reach back and unzip his dress. “I can’t,” he whispered, “I can’t reach.”
“Let me.” Yeosang appeared behind him, fingers sliding up his hips and waist, before trailing up and unzipping his dress. He moved painstakingly slow, his hands sliding up to his shoulders and pushing his dress down until it fell in a heap at his feet. A shiver went down his spine and Mingi clenched his fists tight, willing his wings not to flutter hopelessly. “We’re going to do something together. Have you ever touched yourself?”
Before coming to Mars, to them, Mingi had never known what that meant, had never dared to find solace in such a manner, and still had not dared to. Even when his thoughts consumed him and the ache grew below his waist, he would merely squeeze his eyes shut, will himself into sleep, and hope it would be gone soon enough. Mingi could never bring himself to touch the body he hated so much. “I... N-no...”
Yeosang’s hands didn’t leave his body; they ran up and down his waist, thumbs brushing over his hip bones and then groping at his full chest. Mingi stood there, silent, trembling, hands clenched so tightly they began to shake. “Having a healthy sexual relationship with yourself is important, necessary even, especially if you intend to have healthy sexual relationships with others,” the pixie said at last, pulling his hands away. “Lay down, please.”
Quietly, Mingi climbed into Yeosang’s bed. His sheets were deep purple and silk and it felt heavenly rubbing against his bare legs. He watched the pixie come to the bedside and take out a bottle filled with some white, jelly looking liquid from the nightstand and set it on the bed. “I don’t understand what you mean, Sangie.”
He picked up the bottle and opened it, curiously squeezing some of the liquid out onto his fingers. It was thick and slightly sticky, almost slimy, and when he brought it to his nose to sniff, it smelled faintly sweet. He licked it hesitantly. It didn’t taste good, but it wasn’t particularly unpleasant either.
The bed dipped beside him and Mingi lifted his gaze, freezing when he saw Yeosang. Naked. Mingi inhaled sharply, eyes roaming over the pixie’s body with admiration. His body was just as beautiful as his face. He was muscular and toned, yet somehow so soft. His skin was flushed pink, wings fluttering delicately behind him. The pixie didn’t seem to worry as he laid back on his wings. Mingi thought it must hurt.
“We’re going to masturbate together.” Yeosang reached forward to run a finger up his spine, just between his wings, and hummed when they fluttered quickly. Mingi gasped, a nervous giggle following after. “Masturbation is an important part of self love and care.”
Yeosang motioned with his head and Mingi obeyed, albeit hesitantly, laying down beside the pixie. He laid deathly still as Yeosang stroked a finger up his thigh. “This is all about learning your body, Princess… What feels good and what doesn’t... Tell me, when you look at your body, just like this, what do you do? What do you think? Look at me, tell me.”
Trembling, Mingi met the pixie’s eyes and wrung his hands, toes curling into the soft sheets.
“I think about the things I want to change... How big my thighs are a-and my tummy, I wish it wasn’t so— I— I’m not fat, I know that, but I just wish I wasn’t so soft there... I wish I wasn’t so big too, cuter.”
“You are cute. Yunho’s just as big as you, and you know he’s cute. There’s no difference between you and him.” The pixie held his hands, guided them to his thighs. “Touch them,” He murmured, lips brushing against his shoulder. “Feel them, find what feels good.”
Mingi whined low in his throat, “Yeosangie...”
But the pixie wouldn’t have it, and shushed him, guiding his hands over the soft expanse of his thighs, “Touch them, Mingi. Enjoy your body. It’s the only way you’ll know what touch you like, how hard, how soft... how much you can take before it’s too much, or if it’s not enough.”
Although it frightened him, the idea of touching his own body in the way Yeosang wanted to, Mingi did so anyway. He squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment, breath hitching as he ghosted his hands over his thighs. It tickled and the light touch was almost infuriating even though it was his own. He slid his fingers down, towards his inner thighs, and gently brushed them over the skin. “O-oh… Yeo…” he whimpered, “I can’t.”
“Does that feel good?” Yeosang asked. “Go lower. I promise it’ll feel so much better.” Mingi did not move and Yeosang chuckled, grabbing one of his hands. He grabbed the bottle of that strange sticky liquid and squirted some into the palm of his hand. “Lower,” the pixie whispered, moving his hand towards his soft cock. It would not be that way for much longer, though; Mingi could feel the warmth blossoming deep in his stomach and the soft ache that accompanied that warmth steadily growing.
Mingi jumped and could feel his wings twitch below him. He allowed Yeosang to control his hand, forcing it to wrap around himself. Yeosang pulled away and poured some into his own hand before following suit, thick, veiny hand wrapping around his equally thick and veiny cock. Mingi watched intently, lips parted and eyes wide.
Yeosang didn’t seem to mind his staring. “Do what I do. Don’t be scared,” he said, slowly dragging his hand up the length of his cock with a breathy groan. “But you can leave if you want to. I won’t force you.”
“I won’t go.” Mingi swallowed nervously and copied Yeosang, starting out with a hesitant stroke. It didn’t feel like much of anything at first, he was too tense to even register any feeling, but after a few deep breaths and several more strokes, his cock twitched. He whined lowly and fully wrapped his hand around himself.
Mingi found that it felt good, better, when he kept his eyes on Yeosang, observing and copying him, and simply focusing on how he felt rather than the fact that he was touching himself. His cock was heavy and thick. The lube was too slick for him to really know how it felt on its own, but he’d held himself enough times to know the skin on his shaft was smooth, that there was one thick vein that ran up the underside.
Shivers ran through his spine and into the very tips of his wings when he pressed his fingers down into the vein. A moan bubbled in the back of his throat and he tried to bite it back, but failed. He shifted closer to Yeosang and rested his head against the pixie’s shoulder, eager for some contact to calm his nerves.
“You’re doing good,” Yeosang whispered, head turning a bit so he could nuzzle his nose against his forehead. His breath blew against his bangs as he let out a shaky moan then said, “You don’t have to do what I do. Not everything that feels good for me will feel good for you. Don’t be afraid to try other things, fairy. Maybe try just focusing on the head or touching your nipples.”
Mingi whimpered and mouthed at Yeosang’s shoulder. “O-okay. I’ll try.”
“Good fairy. I’ll show you something else in a little bit. I think you’ll like it, pretty one.”
“Sangie… you’re pretty too.” Mingi slowly slid his slick hand up the length of his cock, moaning lowly as it twitched. He moved his free hand up his chest and lightly groped his chest, then ghosted his fingers over one of his nipples. He bit down on his lip and shivered, eyes fluttering shut again as he cupped his hand over the head of his cock and roughly rolled his wrist. The head was smooth, too, but had a slight texture to it, a barely there roughness that made the slide all the more wing-tingling.
“You think so?”
Mingi nodded against Yeosang’s shoulder. “Uh-huh. I thought… I thought you were pretty the first time I saw you.” He rolled his nipple between his fingers, pinching and tugging at it, trying desperately to find what felt good. “If the fairies back home saw you, they’d be so jealous, Sangie. I mean it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “I think even the Queen would be jealous.”
Yeosang smiled, eyes shutting for a moment. The pixie pulled his hand off his cock and turned towards him, hand going up to cup his cheek. Mingi didn’t even mind the fact that his palm was still slightly slick with lube because suddenly his lips were pressed against his own. It was a hesitant kiss, as though Yeosang thought it might not be reciprocated.
He was glad Yunho had shown him how to kiss (although, perhaps not very well). Mingi tilted his head a bit and leaned into Yeosang, moaning softly as the pixie kissed him more firmly, tongue pressing into his parted lips. Mingi trembled as Yeosang pushed his spit into his mouth, the hand on his cheek disappearing.
When he felt Yeosang’s hand again, the pixie was kissing him so hard, Mingi could hardly breathe. His hand was warm, his fingers dripping with lube as they dipped between his legs. Mingi jumped as a finger brushed against his rim and jerked away from the kiss, “S-Sangie, wait—”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“N-no? I— I don’t know.” Mingi panted and chewed on his lip, tears springing to his eyes. “It’s just a lot,” he whimpered finally, “It’s a lot, Sangie.”
Yeosang pulled his hand away and sat back. Mingi expected him to be upset, but he smiled gently, “Too much? We can take a break or stop if you need to. There’s no pressure. This is about you.”
“No!” Mingi let go of his dick and sat up, nervously licking his lips. “No. N-no. I like this. I wanna keep going, I promise.” He sniffled softly and whispered, “This is a little scary. I’ve never done anything like this. Not by myself, not with anyone. And I don’t like my body. I don’t like touching myself and so it’s just scary having someone else touch me. But I like it. I really, really like it, Sangie.”
Yeosang’s smile grew and he crawled forward, the fingers coated in lube lifted so he didn’t wipe it off on the bed. He pressed a kiss to Mingi’s neck, his shoulders, his chest. “You are so beautiful to me, Mingi.” He kissed his stomach then his hips, pressing extra kisses over every stretch mark there. “You are so beautiful just like this. And I promise you that any pixie would be envious of your beauty…” Mingi hiccuped and tried hard not to cry as Yeosang’s soft and reverent kisses went lower and stopped at his thighs.
The pixie pressed one last kiss to his thigh and then moved up fully to lay beside him, soft lips pressing against his cheek. “May I?” Yeosang breathed, fingers sliding between his legs and pressed against his taint. Mingi swallowed hard.
“Yes…” Mingi nuzzled into the crook of Yeosang’s neck. “Please.”
One of his fingers slid up and started to stroke at his rim. “Relax for me, okay? If you tense up, it’ll hurt.” Mingi just whimpered in response, managing a tiny nod. “Good fairy.”
Mingi went to mush with a whimper and sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. He relaxed, just like Yeosang had told him, and it was easier when he could focus on Yeosang’s touch, and his touch alone. Yeosang’s finger gently started to push inside of him, and he repeated with a breathy whisper against his ear, “Relax… there we go, just like that. You’re doing so well.”
The intrusion was foreign and strange, but... not unpleasant, Mingi thought. He certainly didn’t hate it, not by any means. Yeosang thrust his finger slowly, easing more of its length inside him as he did so. “Does it feel good?”
“M-mhm,” Mingi managed through a hitched breath.
“You can do this to yourself too, whenever you want to.” Mingi let out a sudden moan when Yeosang’s finger settled fully inside him and the pixie paused for a moment before he continued his ministrations. “You can do it here, in my room, too, if you’ll feel more comfortable. I always have lube.”
Mingi nodded but wasn’t really listening. All he could think about was how... relieved he felt, here with Yeosang. Pleasure aside, Yeosang liked him, genuinely seemed to like him. He was touching him and had yet to recoil in disgust, or to say, aloud or to himself, that he was ugly, or too big, or too anything.
Yeosang was touching him and he was touching him as though he liked him, as though, like he said, he truly thought he was beautiful. And Mingi thought he might cry because here, with Yeosang, all the insults he’d heard, the horrible ways they made him feel, all of that... none of it existed any longer.
Mingi did not know how pixie magic worked, not in full, but he could feel Yeosang’s. He could feel it’s pureness, it’s healing, it’s warmth; it was so natural and so primal, and it felt as though everything Yeosang was doing to him was instinct, like it was second nature to him to please and to know that that perfect curl of his finger within him would find something in him that made his toes curl and his wings tingle and a loud moan fall from his lips.
Yeosang’s magic made him forget about everything that troubled him and everything else too: his fears, his wants, his needs, his insecurities. Everything. It made him forget about everything until he was stripped down to his very purest self and he could breathe, truly and freely.
“You’re glowing,” Yeosang whispered to him, breaking Mingi from his whimpery daze. He had three fingers inside him now, moving so excruciatingly slow, Mingi keened softly and thought he might start crying. “You’re glowing, Min. It’s pretty. You’re so pretty when you just enjoy yourself and feel, fairy.”
Mingi blinked a few times and tore his eyes from Yeosang to find that he was glowing. It was faint, hard to see, with the lights on but the deep, warm, orange-y glow was there, on his skin and emanating from it. He hadn’t glowed in a long time; fairies glowed rarely and only when they were at peace and so happy and content, they felt safe enough to do so. In the human realm, fairies could not afford to be any of those things for fear of a human finding them by their glow; in Faerie, it was even rarer, though not for the same reasons. Glowing at home was very nearly seen as bragging, as boasting that your life was so lovely and perfect, you were happier and better than everyone else. It was something considered appropriate for only children to do. And yet, here he was: glowing.
He looked back to Yeosang and shivered, eyes fluttering shut as the pixie’s fingers curled and pressed into him again. “Sangie— what’s that? Feels good.”
“This?” Yeosang teased, nose rubbing against his cheek affectionately and pads of his fingers pressing more insistently into whatever it was and rubbing it in slow, excruciating circles.
Mingi moaned, teeth biting down at his lower lip. He nodded frantically. Yeosang laughed at him and hummed, “It’s your prostate. It’s like... well, the point is, it feels good for most people. And I bet I could make you cum just like this.
Mingi made a questioning noise, unsure of what that was, but decided it must be a good thing if Yeosang had said it. “T-try,” he said, “I bet you can’t.”
Yeosang grinned meanly and kissed his neck, latching onto the skin and nipping at it with his sharp teeth. His hand started to move impossibly fast, fingers twisting and stroking and pressing into his prostate roughly. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me. I want to see what you look like when you cum for me.”
“You won’t,” Mingi huffed, lifting his gaze to Yeosang. The pixie’s eyes were hooded and dark with something Mingi had never seen, but decided he liked very much because it made his wings tingle so nicely.
“Mm? You know, I’m starting to think you’re a brat underneath that good innocent little fairy act.”
“I’m not!” Mingi paused to try and catch his breath, hand going to weakly clutch at Yeosang’s arm with a groan. “W-Wooyoung’s a brat and I— fuck— pixieee... I don’t act anything like him!”
“No,” Yeosang agreed, “but you’re a fairy. Every fairy I’ve ever met has been a brat, very pretentious and haughty brats at that. Though... none have been as pretty as you.”
Laughing seemed like a wildly inappropriate thing to do when he was also trying not to moan and Yeosang had three fingers inside of him, but Mingi laughed anyway, staccato little giggles falling from his lips, cut off by moans and hitched breaths in between.
“Maybe I-I’m a little bit of a brat.” Mingi turned a bit towards Yeosang and laid his head against the pixie’s shoulder, left leg slinging over his hip. Yeosang chuckled and kissed him, plunging his fingers deeper inside of him with the new angle. His pace quickened until Mingi could hear the sound of their skin slapping against each other and the wet squelch of lube; and his heart beating so wildly fast, it was almost like he could feel it in his entire chest and tummy, all the way into his very hard, leaking cock.
Mingi started to whimper but clamped down on his lower lip, and pressed their foreheads together. He kept his eyes on Yeosang’s, like he’d be ordered to even if it embarrassed him to see the pixie looking at him like that—hungry and desperate. Mingi’s chin quivered, his hand squeezing at Yeosang’s arm, mouth repeatedly falling open in silent moans. “Fuck,” he breathed, “fuck. Sangie, please.”
A moan caught in his throat, his body tensing as he tried to keep it in. “Nnh.. please. My tummy— m-my, my—”
“You have to moan for me if you want me to make you cum,” Yeosang whispered against the shell of his ear, fingers plunging deeper. “I want to hear you, Mingi. Don’t be embarrassed. This is never something to be embarrassed about.”
Although it embarrassed him, Mingi let a loud moan fall from his lips. And after that, moaned unabashedly because Yeosang wanted to hear him and it was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever asked of him. “Please, faster, faster,” he gasped, digging his nails into Yeosang’s arms. He moaned as the pixie’s muscles flexed in his grip and squeezed harder.
Yeosang kissed his jaw and neck, murmuring sweet things Mingi could hardly understand when his head felt so full and cloudy the closer and closer he got to cumming. His head felt heavier and heavier and his stomach tighter and tighter, and Yeosang was moving so fast, he could hardly breathe.
He choked on a groan and grit his teeth, a sudden and so very lovely euphoria washing over his body. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, even better than being drunk on cream.
Mingi panted into Yeosang’s neck, eyes rolling back a bit as the aftershocks of his orgasm ran through his body.
“You okay, fairy? All good?” Yeosang asked gently, fingers starting to slip from inside him. Mingi whined and reached out to grab his arm to stop him.
Yeosang smiled. “What is it, fairy?” He had a knowing glint in his eyes. Mingi did not have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Don’t stop. P-please, Sangie. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t, my sweet fairy, I won’t.”
__________
Mingi stumbled out of Yeosang’s bedroom well into the afternoon the next day, bundled up in one of Yunho’s big, fluffy sweaters and legs feeling like jelly from how much he’d cum between the previous afternoon and today. And perhaps he’d wrung another one out, though he would never admit that, except to Yeosang, perhaps.
“Are you alright, Princess?” Mars called softly from his bedroom.
Shy as ever, Mingi peeked in and clutched at the doorway, pressing his cheek into the wood. The witch was lying on his stomach. He’d been in the middle of cleansing his crystals, hands still hovering above them. Mingi pursed his lips and lifted his shoulders in a small shrug, “I’m okay.”
Mars smiled and sat back on his feet. “You had fun with Yeosang last night, then?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! H-he asked to see me, I didn’t realize—” His face must have turned bright pink because Mars laughed at him, a small smile on his face.
“It’s alright, Princess. I’m not upset, alright? As long as he made you feel good, taught you well, and you enjoyed yourself... that’s all that matters to me. We’re good about sharing, remember?”
Mingi gave him a tremulous smile, still shy about having been caught. When Yeosang dragged him into his room for the night, he really hadn’t been planning on doing anything with him. The pixie had assured him that it was okay, that no one would care. Mars was the least of his worries, but Wooyoung would care.
He took a step back, ready to retreat and huddle up on the veranda for a bit, or disappear into the swamp for a few hours. “Right... s-sharing. I, um, I’ll let you... I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Ah, ah,” Mars called, raising a finger to tap his cheek lightly, “Aren’t you forgetting something, Princess?”
Mingi blushed and hurried forward to press a sloppy kiss to the witch’s cheek. “Silly me,” he giggled, going the extra mile in pressing a knee into the bed and slinging his arms around his neck. The witch wrapped an arm around his waist, and tilted his head back, staring at him with a look he’d never quite seen before.
The witch always seemed to look at him funny. Shy, Mingi lowered his gaze and ran his fingers across the seam across Mars’ shoulder. “M-my name is Mingi. I know Yunho probably told you on accident or something, but… um, you can call me that too. It’s okay. I… I… I trust you.” Mingi squirmed under the realization that he meant it. A soft, warm hand dipped down to squeeze lightly just where his ass met his thigh.
“Oh?” And Mars sounded pleasantly surprised. “That means a lot to me.” He grabbed at his ass and kissed at his neck, just over the hickey Yeosang had ever-so-kindly left before leaving him the night before. “You’ll still be my princess, though, hm?”
Giggling, Mingi shoved at Mars’ shoulder and jumped back a few steps with a squeal. “Always. I promise.” He lifted his hand and waved his fingers, “Bye bye!”
Hongjoong was in his study, Yeosang too, since he’d gone to feed him the night before. Yunho was nowhere to be found, but Mingi hoped he would come home soon. San was nice company, but Wooyoung rarely liked him to be around the kitsune unless he was there too.
With nothing to do, Mingi sneaked into the kitchen and ate a spoonful of honey. Perhaps he could get some reading in, he thought. The werewolf appeared just as he settled in front of the living room couch. “What is wrong with you?” Wooyoung said through gritted teeth, fists curled up at his sides.
Mingi shrunk a bit and swallowed. He didn’t want to bother Hongjoong or Mars, and it was about time he stood up for himself. He was tired of Wooyoung being mean to him all the time. “What are you talking about? I’m going to call Joong if you don’t leave me alone!”
Wooyoung scoffed and snatched away his book, tossing it onto the couch. He kicked his legs apart and dropped to his knees to settle between them. “’What are you talking about?’,” he mocked, face so close, their noses were nearly touching.
“Wooyoung—”
“Don’t think I don’t see the way you throw yourself at Mars... Sneaking into his bed at night, hands wandering all over his body. Pretending you’re so fucking dainty and helpless just to endear him to you even more. And Yunho too.” A clawed finger jabbed at his scarred tummy, still healing and at that awkward raw-yet-not-quite stage. He hissed and tears pricked at his eyes. “I saw you kiss him. You have your own clothes, and yet you wear his. You let him grope you when you think no one is watching, and do the same to him. You let him call you pretty and treat you sweetly like you deserve it.”
“I do... deserve it...” Mingi managed weakly. “Mars said—”
“Have you made it your mission to seduce my coven? To make them fall for your pretty face and naivety? You don’t fool me, Princess. You’re a whore. Do you know what that means, fairy? Do you know what it means to be a whore?”
It wasn’t like that, Mingi tried to say, but his voice faltered, mouth opening once, twice, before he simply shut it and hung his head in shame. He hadn’t been trying to seduce anyone. He never made the first move, and he’d never even so much as batted an eyelash at them because he wasn’t a part of their coven. The six of them were covenmates, lovers, and Mingi did not intend, had never intended to want, or to kiss, or to touch, or… to like them, any of them.
“And my Joongie… my patron, my master, you’re always vying for his attention, pining, so desperate for him to notice you, hm? To touch you and hold you, and put you in your place. I know all about you traipsing about his study in nothing but your pretty little dresses, just hoping you’ll feel his gaze on you. You’re a slut. A lecherous little wretch,” Wooyoung all but seethed, teeth bared and sharp and glinting in the warm glow of the fire.
Claws dug into his thigh, pulling him close, and Mingi whimpered, ducking his head out of the way each time the werewolf made to bite at his neck, to draw his blood as if the vampire just two floors up wouldn’t smell it, as if the vampire wouldn’t know that he was here again, antagonizing him, and as if he wouldn’t come and snatch the werewolf up by his nape like a naughty puppy and drag him to his study to punish him properly, thoroughly, and loudly enough for the whole house—no, the whole bayou—to hear, since he clearly hadn’t learnt his lesson the first time.
He could call for help, there wasn’t a reason not to, but Wooyoung’s breath was hot on his throat, and the werewolf had clearly spent all morning with Yunho gathering lemons and oranges, the scent rolling off him in waves under the heady human cologne he always used. Again, Wooyoung went for his throat, and this time, his teeth nipped at his throat, his jaw, grazed over the skin of his cheek. His long, hot, tongue lolled out and lapped at the corner of his lips. Mingi bit back the urge to call him a filthy dog, just to see what he’d do. “Brat. A fucking brat, that’s what you are,” He growled, hand lifting to shove his head back against the couch.
Jealousy. Was that what this was? It was not envy, no, Wooyoung could not envy him for something he already had, something he’d had long before Mingi had come. No, he was jealous. Mingi couldn’t understand why as he cowered beneath him, trembling yet somehow not worried for his safety. Wooyoung was the one who had them each in his bed, the one who could love them all so freely and as much as he wanted to. Mingi’s “flirtations” shouldn’t affect him the way they did. And he realized, watching Wooyoung fix him with a sharp glare, that he was jealous not because of his flirtations—no, not that, but because none of his flirtations, his “vies for attention” had been directed at him.
“I-I’m sorry!” Mingi cried, pushing helplessly at his chest. Wooyoung was smaller, but he was stronger, and didn’t budge. Wooyoung squinted at him, panting, then without warning, lunged forward and crushed his lips against his in a bruising kiss that made his lips throb and sting, the delicate skin broken by his vengeful teeth. Growling and biting, eager and lustful, Wooyoung sucked at his lower lip, drinking in the drops of blood that beaded there, and used the force of his kiss to push him further into the couch, to trap him, to fully engulf and overwhelm him.
Mingi clutched helplessly at his shirt, then his shoulders, then his hips, unsure of what to do with himself.
“Wooyoung, you’re not ‘sposed to— Joong told you not to bother Princess!” San cried, softly, so Hongjoong wouldn’t hear even though the vampire’s hearing was as sharp as his nose. They all knew he knew what was going on already. Wooyoung was spurred on only by him not coming to put a stop to it.
Wooyoung’s jaw clenched as he pulled back, lips swollen and tinted with blood. He shot a glare at San, then leveled Mingi with the same look, “Am I bothering you, little princess?”
Bothered? No, no, he most certainly, pointedly even, was not bothered. At least, not in the way San was suggesting. No, he was bothered in a much different manner; it was only by the grace of Yunho’s oversized sweater that his hardened cock and loosened hole, still somewhat leaking with lube and his spit, weren’t on museum display. Breathlessly, and after much struggle to get the words out, he said, “No, I-I’m not bothered, Sannie...” He held out a hand to the kitsune, eyes locked on Wooyoung’s, for he knew now what he wanted. He supposed it was the ‘lecherous wretch’ in him that made him all too eager to give him what he so desired—a taste of his flirtations. “Please... join us?”
San stared at them for so long that Mingi expected him to turn and leave, a silent ‘You’re free to get yourself in trouble’ to Wooyoung.
“If you’re sure,” he finally murmured as he lowered onto his knees. He slid a hand behind Mingi’s neck and pushed him forward, tongue darting out to swipe across his lips. “C-can I hold you from behind?”
“Yeah... m’kay.” Mingi clung to Wooyoung around his shoulders and scooted forward, just enough for San to slip in behind him comfortably. The kitsune’s hands wrapped around his waist and lifted him slightly, pulling him back onto his waiting lap. “S-Sannie, I’m too big for that.”
His protest went ignored, and Wooyoung kissed him again, warm hands sliding beneath his sweater; one wrapped around his leaking cock, and the other trailed down. “You fucking slut. Never knew fairies were such whores,” The werewolf breathed, two fingers pressing into his loose hole.
“A-ah... I didn’t—” San nipped at his neck particularly hard and he whined, arching up, only to meet Wooyoung’s touch. “Wooyoung, I didn’t—” He tried to squeeze his thighs together, blinking up at the werewolf through half-lidded eyes. Yeosang had told him it was nothing to be ashamed of, and yet, he felt ashamed.
“Let me see,” Wooyoung ordered, the pads of his fingers prodding at his hole, dipping in, but never filling him. Mingi clutched his hands to his chest and cried. “Be a good little fairy for us, hm?”
“I-I— I just— I woke up and I couldn’t stop thinking about Y-Yeosangie and,” he cut himself off and buried his face in his hands. San’s hands, warm and rough, pulled him up by his hips and his thighs quivered. The werewolf pulled his hands away and reached down to unbutton his pants, wiggling his hips as he struggled to shove his pants down his thick thighs. “W-what are you doing?”
The werewolf shushed him, thumb smoothing circles across his inner thigh. “You’ve never been fucked, have you?”
Slowly, Mingi nodded his head. “Y-Yunho...”
“Cute. How nice of you to do some of the work for us,” San giggled in his ear before clamping a hand over his throat.
“O-oh! O-ohh... fu—” Mingi choked back a moan and squeezed his eyes shut, hands fumbling to hold onto something, anything. His head fell back against San’s shoulder and he writhed, “Hurts. I-it hurts.” He’d used four fingers that morning, and the stretch still burned almost unlike anything he’d ever felt. Neither of them stopped, though, until they’d filled him completely.
Wooyoung giggled. “It’ll stop hurting when we stop fucking you.”
San’s hand pressed over his mouth, muffling his breathy moans and cries. “Shh, little fairy. Gotta be quiet. Joongie’s upstairs. He’ll hear,” he said. They fucked up into him in tandem with hard, punctuated thrusts that sent his eyes rolling back in his head and made his cock leak, wet and heavy against his tummy. The sound of skin-on-skin-on-skin was enough to tell the others what they were doing, moans be damned.
__________
After their little encounter, Mingi found that the werewolf was much kinder to him. He still had yet to apologize for stabbing him, but Mingi supposed that it was a start. It was nice to be able to speak to San freely without Wooyoung butting in and scaring him off. Hongjoong had not been very happy about the entire thing, though, of course.
He’d come down halfway through Wooyoung choking him to near unconsciousness and watched them until Wooyoung and San finished. They hadn’t even let him cum and just scampered off after Hongjoong to his study. Mingi was more than half sure they’d been scolded and maybe punished a bit more than that, not that it was exactly his business. He felt more humiliated that he’d been caught having sex with them, even if it hadn’t been totally unconsented to on his part.
Mingi hadn’t been to Hongjoong’s office since and had been pointedly avoiding the vampire as much as he possibly could. Perhaps he was a bit frightened he’d be told off too, but how could he not be? Hongjoong was rightfully terrifying.
Luckily, Hongjoong had left the previous evening on one of his trips, the first he’d taken since Mingi had arrived. Mingi wondered what he did on those trips; according to Mars, he took them quite frequently to handle ‘important’ business. Mingi wasn’t sure what important entailed but he supposed it was urgent matters in the vampire world, or something of the sort.
With Hongjoong gone, the house descended into a semi-chaos. Wooyoung and San were far more reckless, Yunho went off for longer periods of time without saying when or where he was going or when he’d be back, and Yeosang went out into the city nearly every day to meet with some pixie friends that, according to San, Hongjoong did not like him spending time with. Even Mars was more playful and lewd, which wasn’t totally unwelcome. Mingi thought it interesting to see how different they acted without Hongjoong to keep them in line.
Wooyoung had decided to stay home today since Yeosang and San had gone off to the city before any of them had woken up. That was how Mingi ended up being roped into doing a two thousand piece puzzle with him on the living room floor.
“That’s not where it goes! It’s a fucking corner, Princess!” The werewolf still called him Princess. Mingi knew that he knew his name. Part of him wanted to think he was waiting for Mingi to tell him his name himself, but he knew it was really because Wooyoung still didn’t completely like him.
Mingi rolled his eyes, annoyed, and crossed his arms. “Then you do it! I didn’t want to do this, anyway. Why can’t we go out and pick flowers instead?” Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at him and snatched up the puzzle piece, easily putting it where it was supposed to go.
Wooyoung grunted, “Because that’s boring. We could always do other things, if you want to, little fairy.”
“Didn’t Joong punish you enough the first time? You’re so mean to me.” Mingi picked up another piece and searched for its rightful place. He didn’t understand why Mars or Joong hadn’t bothered to get a television like other humans had; they had electricity, for Queen’s sake. Puzzles and reading eventually grew boring.
“Only because I love you,” Wooyoung said, sorting out pieces.
Mingi felt his heart drop. “Excuse me?” he asked, though it was so quiet, not even Wooyoung had heard him. The werewolf just continued working on the puzzle.
It felt like some cruel joke. He couldn’t understand why Wooyoung had said that, why he would ever say something like that. It made him feel sick, like something disgusting was churning within him and it made him want to cry. He dropped the puzzle piece he was holding and clutched at his thighs, trying to take deep breaths in through his knees so he didn’t vomit on the floor.
He hated those words. He couldn’t remember when he had started to hate them, he just knew that he did and he never wanted to hear them. Not from his mother, not from his brothers, and certainly not from Wooyoung or any of the others. He did not deserve that. He didn’t. Wooyoung loved San, he loved Mars and Hongjoong, and Yunho and Yeosang. Mingi had seen the way he looked at them, touched them, kissed them. He loved them, was in love with them. Not Mingi. Love, his love, their love, was not meant for Mingi.
Mars came into the living room and Mingi was so grateful, he might have really cried when the witch asked, “Would you like to come with Yunho and I? We’re going to the orchards. I’m making your favourite dessert tonight.” Mars walked over to them, peered over Wooyoung’s shoulder to watch him, and then, “Only if you feel up to it, little one.”
Mingi knew that Mars could sense that something was wrong from the gentleness in his eyes and voice and the warm hand smoothing down his back, being mindful of his wings.
“Please.” Mingi did not feel good about being eager to get away from Wooyoung, but he needed to. He needed to think. He needed to get away from his words so he would not have to deal with them and the implications. He felt sick that three little words could do this to him.
“Alright, come, Yunho’s waiting in the boat,” Mars said softly, holding out a hand.
He held Mars’ hand tightly, refusing to let go on the short trip to the front door where Mars retrieved his fruit basket, and led him outside to the small dock on the lip of the bayou.
The ride out to the orchards was quiet. Yunho also seemed to sense that he wasn’t feeling alright and had decided it best to not pry as of now. Mingi was glad. He didn’t think either of them would understand how he felt. How could they? They were loved.
Yunho grabbed the blanket and picnic basket he’d brought along once they arrived and climbed out of the boat. Mingi followed in silence, grabbing onto Mars’ arm and walking alongside him.
“You two can set the blanket down over there. I’ll try not to be long,” Mars said when they reached the orange trees. Mingi would have eaten one if he still didn’t feel so sick. He stood idly, arms crossed, and watched Mars go about gathering oranges.
Yunho cleared his throat. “Sit with me? I brought some books we can read, if you want to.”
“I don’t feel up to reading today.” Mingi sat with Yunho, though, feeling too light headed to stand any longer. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into them, trying to stave away the oncoming tears. He’d been trying so hard to love himself. Why couldn’t he do anything right?
“What’s wrong?”
“Wooyoung… Wooyoung said,” Mingi dropped his voice to a whisper, voice trembling, “He said he- t-that thing you say to Mars and the others sometimes… He said he loves me. Why would he say that?”
Yunho didn’t respond at first, mindlessly toying with the grass around them. Mingi wanted to cry at the silence. Perhaps Wooyoung had said it to tease him and Yunho knew it and didn’t want to tell him. “Do you think you don’t deserve to be loved?” Yunho spoke up finally, tilting his head at Mingi.
Mingi was glad Mars was preoccupied with gathering fruit because he knew he’d be disappointed if he had seen Mingi’s solemn nod in response. “How could anyone?” He reached up to wipe at his eyes and inhaled shakily, “How could anyone love me?”
“How couldn’t they?” Yunho huffed and grabbed his hand, frowning at him. “How could Wooyoung not love you? Why would you ever think that?”
“Because, Yunho! You don’t understand.” Mingi pulled his hand away and clutched at his dress tightly. “You will never know what it feels like to have everyone’s eyes on you, watching you and judging you because they know you’re not enough and they want you to know it too. You’ll never know what it’s like to have people tell you to your face that you’re so… so ugly, no one could ever love you. That no one could even ever like you. You’ll never understand the feeling of inadequacy when everyone has love and a life and has their shit together and you don’t.
“You’re alone, all alone, and no one cares what you think or how you feel or what’s going on with you because you really don’t matter to them. Not even the one person in the whole world that you should matter to. You could never understand the fear that every relationship you have could fall apart at any moment, that at any time, everyone could decide they’re done pitying you and feeling sorry for you and that it just isn’t worth the effort anymore. The fear that no one even really likes you.. That they’re all just pretending to be there for you.”
He paused and wiped at the tears rapidly falling down his cheeks. His chin quivered and he let out a sob. “You will never understand the fucking terror those words fill me with, Yunho. I can’t be loved by anyone. Love isn’t meant for me. I don’t want to deal with the pain of them realizing I’m not good enough, that I’m not pretty enough, that I’m just not enough . I don’t want anyone wasting their time. I don’t want any of you wasting your time on me like that. You have each other. I’m just… I-I’m just a guest. A-and I can’t… you won’t let me stay forever. I’ll have to go eventually when you realize…” Mingi buried his face in his hands and inhaled shakily. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Please. Just… please… I don’t like those words. I don’t like hearing it. I don’t want to be told that. I don’t deserve it. I don’t want to hear that ever again. I just… I don’t. Please.”
“Okay.” Yunho’s voice shook as he said the word and Mingi crumpled, bursting into noisy sobs. He knew Mars had heard every word. He didn’t want to imagine how disappointed he’d made him. He felt the nymph’s hands on him, gently forcing him to lie down on his stomach. “Please don’t cry, Mingi… I’m sorry.”
Mingi cried harder because Yunho should not be apologizing to him. Yunho ran his hands down his thighs and calves, rubbing circles into the skin with his thumbs. “You’re right. I could never know or understand all those things, not in the way you do. But I know what it’s like to be scared.”
His hands slid up to his dress, hiking it up slowly, as though he was waiting for Mingi to tell him to stop. Mingi didn’t. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay. I get scared too,” Yunho continued. “And maybe you won’t stay forever, even though we’d all really like if you did, but as long as you’re here, you have us. You don’t ever have to be scared with us.”
“I know,” Mingi croaked. “But I still am.”
There was a clicking noise and then a wet finger prodding at his hole. “I know. That’s okay.” He started to push his finger inside, wiggling it to make the slide a bit easier. “Can we still…?”
Mingi managed a weak nod. He cried the entire time the nymph fingered him open, overwhelmed and unable to keep himself from feeling that he’d disappointed him too. Mingi felt as though that was all he was good for anymore. Disappointing people.
He hadn’t been home to see his mother or brothers since he left. If they weren’t disappointed in him, he’d be surprised. He’d left without a single word to any of them. Sure, he’d never intended to stay this long, but that was still no excuse. He hadn’t even sent so much as a letter to let them know he was alright. Every time he tried, he never knew what to say, how to justify what he’d done.
Mars told him he didn’t have to. He didn’t owe them anything, not if he didn’t want to. Mingi wished that Mars wasn’t Mars. That he wasn’t ever kind, ever patient, ever calm. That he wasn’t so tender and soft and maternal and so damn gentle to a fault. He wished Mars would affirm to him all the things he thought about himself because it would make things so much easier. Mars was far too good for him.
“I don’t deserve this,” Mingi whispered.
“Shh, just let me,” Yunho whispered back, “Let me make you feel good, Minnie. Please?”
Yunho pushed into him, and Mingi gasped, mouth falling open in a whimpery little moan.
Unlike San and Wooyoung, who took him roughly, with little consideration as to how he felt (not that he’d minded; it had been wonderful), Yunho was gentle, and didn’t attempt to dominate him.
Mingi watched Mars anxiously, frightened he’d turn around and say something. He did turn around, but nothing came. In fact, his eyes lit up, and he raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I’m fucking Mingi,” Yunho said firm with pride, like a child showing off a prize.
Mars smiled. “I see. Do it well, Yunho.”
The witch lowered himself to the ground, dress spreading around him so nicely, and watched quietly, a pleased look on his face as he peeled a plump, vibrant orange.
“O-ohh.” Mingi’s fingers trembled and he clenched his fists, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and chewing on it, “Y-Yuyu…”
Yunho shushed him again and placed his hands at either side of him. He sank deeper, until he bottomed out. Mingi trembled at the fullness. Then he started to move, slow and careful thrusts, firm but gentle, that sent heat straight to Mingi’s leaking cock.
Mingi’s teeth chattered and he whimpered, squirming beneath Yunho, who only pressed in closer until his chest was pressing lightly against his wings, pinning him down. He thrusted into him lazy and slow, murmuring sweet nothings Mingi hardly understood. The nymph nuzzled into his neck and kissed the skin over and over, and Mingi could only cry and whimper a litany of soft shaky ‘okay's, hands scrabbling for purchase in the grass.
“My two pretty boys,” Mars cooed softly.
Mingi sobbed, writhing desperately, “M-Mars, please... oh m’fuck, please... he’s— nngh—”
Mars pouted, eyebrows drawn up almost sympathetically, “Is our Yuyu making you feel good, sweetheart? He’s getting so deep, isn’t he? So big and good, hm?”
Yunho was big, yes, and so very, very good. But he was much more than that too. Yunho was Mingi’s anchor, soft and pretty and perfectly understanding even when he couldn’t understand. He was Mingi’s listening ear. Mingi trusted Mars with most things, but there were some things, intimate things, that he was often too ashamed of to speak about. Things he felt Mars would be disappointed to hear if he told him.
Yunho was easier to talk to about those things because when Mars tried to fix things, Yunho just listened and felt and made everything okay. There was no trying to make things better.
He understood that sometimes Mingi just needed to be.
Mingi slept with Mars most nights. He felt strange sleeping with the others at times. Mars was the one person, above all, he felt most at ease with. The one he felt he could be at his most vulnerable with and not feel frightened about it.
Tonight was no different. Mingi had wandered around the house for a few hours once everyone, save Hongjoong, had gone to bed. Eventually, though, he went to Mars’ bedroom and quietly pushed the door open. Mars was still awake, sitting criss-cross on his bed, facing towards the window. He was humming to himself, swaying back and forth.
“Can I sleep with you?” Mingi shut the door behind him and crawled into bed without waiting for a response. Mars did not answer him. He sat down beside the witch with his hands in his lap and looked out the window too. The silence was comfortable, though he found himself stealing glances at Mars. “What are you thinking about?” Mingi almost regretted the question the moment it fell from his lips. It hung in the air and Mingi wished he could snatch it back up.
Mars was silent for a while longer. Then: “What you told Yunho that day. When Wooyoung told you he loved you.” Mars’ voice was quiet, so quiet, Mingi had to move closer than he already was to hear him properly. He looked at Mingi, almost staring right through him. The look he saw in his eyes was something that Mingi had never seen before. His thin, nimble fingers played with the hem of his nightie and he turned his head to stare out the window again. “I hated myself too.”
Mingi found himself unable to believe that. How could Mars ever have hated himself? It didn’t seem like him at all. Mingi thought he was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He stayed quiet and just listened, waiting for the witch to continue.
“For the longest time, I was all alone, you know. It wasn’t always the seven of us, or even just Hongjoong and I. Once upon a time, it was just me and this house.” His voice wavered, “All by myself. I had been… shunned, so to speak, by my mother’s coven for being different. I thought it best that I was alone after that. I felt as though I ruined everything I ever touched, like Midas, except I was left with rot instead of gold. I hated looking in the mirror and seeing myself staring back at me. I picked myself apart until I found myself crying for hours every day, so humiliated to be alive in this body.”
Mars sighed and shook his head, looking at Mingi once more. Mingi found himself feeling small and moved even closer, until their knees touched. Mars gave him a small smile. “My magic suffered as I deteriorated. I couldn’t take care of the house. Many days, I could hardly get out of bed and bathe, let alone eat or change my clothes. And I felt as if I deserved that. And then I met Hongjoong.”
“How?”
“There was a hunt for him, he was badly injured. He’s never spared many of the details. He…” Mars laughed a little, eyes twinkling. “He always says he’d rather not taint the beginning of our story with such things. I saved him. I let him feed from me. I nursed him back to health and took care of him until he gained his strength back. I think I fell in love with him the moment I saw him because he was everything I wanted to be. He was so… so intelligent and well-spoken, and despite the rough exterior, I could see a gentleness in him. I could see the love he had in his heart, even if he wanted to hide it and be this big, strong man he felt he had to be. I could see something so soft and beautiful, something worth protecting. Something I wanted to protect, if he’d let me. Of course, I thought he could never love someone like me. I kept my head low and my eyes downcast even as I yearned for him. I was stupid back then.”
Mingi smiled and chewed on his lip. He felt his stomach twisting into knots and his heart fluttering just listening to the witch speak. He felt like a child again, reading love stories in his books of fairy tales. “But he saw something in you too, right? And he loved you?”
Mars nodded almost solemnly. “Yes.” He took Mingi’s hands and squeezed them. “I once asked why he trusted me to help him that day. Why he trusted that I wouldn’t kill him myself. He told me that the moment he saw me, he saw my beauty. He saw my gentleness, the love and care I held in my heart for everything and everyone, no matter who or what they may be. He saw that something soft and beautiful in me too and he wanted to protect it, decided that he would protect it as soon as he was able, even if I didn’t want him to. And gosh, I didn’t want him to. But he saw me when no one else would. I wouldn’t love myself or be the person I am today if it weren’t for him, Mingi.
“Everything I needed was already there within me, but he was what I needed to see that. I loved him. I still do. And when you love someone like that, when you love someone so deeply you’d face Death herself to take them back from her grasp, or you’d go to the very ends of the Earth or the highest mountain or lowest valley or deepest cave if it meant finding the one place in the whole world that your love would be safe… when you love someone like that, Mingi, you realize you have to love yourself too. It’s not something someone else can make you do, only something they can help you do. And only if you let them. I could tell you a million times that you need to love yourself, but you never will until you realize what I did for yourself and choose to. I heard you, Mingi. I saw you. And I hope that one day you see in yourself what I have.”
Mingi hated how much Mars made him cry. He climbed into the man’s lap and pressed his face into his shoulder, sobbing into his nightgown. Mars held him tight and close, rubbing his back like a mother trying to lull her child back to sleep.
He felt the witch’s lips pressing kisses into his hair and the side of his face. “Mingi… my Mingi.”
“Mars,” Mingi sobbed. “You’re the most perfect person I ever met.”
Mars nuzzled his nose against his cheek. Mingi thought he might be crying too.
“My name is Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa would always be Mars first to Mingi.
Spring nights in the bayou were cool and humid, the uncomfortable yet somehow bearable mix of sticky cold and hot; the house became something of a conservatory, and Mingi had taken to sleeping out on the silky lavender daybed on the veranda, finding it to be only slightly better than to be in the house with six bodies, five of which radiated heat, some more so than others (see: Wooyoung and San). Kindly, Mars mended the mosquito-net San had chewed up, so he didn’t have to wake with angry red bites on his arms and legs—fairy blood was a favourite for bayou mosquitos, it seemed.
His sleep schedule still hadn’t sorted itself out, body accustomed to the routine of the City, where days dragged on and on before night finally fell, and even then, fairies often would not sleep for many, many hours in favour of playing. He felt as though he’d only been living with them for perhaps a month, but Hongjoong had told him it’d been several. Mingi still couldn’t wrap his head around that.
Mars told him it’d take time and insisted he stay in bed even if he awoke in the night so his body would learn no, no, this is where you’re meant to be, close your eyes, sleep. Instead, Mingi crept into the silent house, barefoot and so sticky with sweat that his feet stuck to the wooden floors, and threw open all the windows to let in what little air there was.
Then he’d wander.
Some nights, he’d slip into bed with Mars, rest at his back with his nose nestled between his shoulder blades and slip an arm under his so he could run his fingers across the lace along the neckline of his nightgown. On others, he’d lean in the doorway and watch San’s naked form hold his cuddle partner for the night close to him, while Wooyoung claimed the other side. Most often, it was Yunho, for Yeosang preferred to sleep alone round the back of the house, and they’d yet to extend an invitation to Mingi.
But most nights, Mingi found himself in the kitchen preparing himself a small breakfast of hibiscus tea and exactly four pieces of sourdough toast with orange marmalade before he bounded up the stairs, clutching the breakfast tray tightly, and ‘sneaked’ into Hongjoong’s study where he’d find the vampire sat at his desk, quill in hand, and pretending to be surprised to see him when he lifted his head and found him sat on his bear skin rug, eating his first breakfast of the day. “Ah, Princess,” He’d say, and then he’d give him a task or two to keep him busy so he could work in peace.
Tonight, Mingi had been tasked with tidying up the shelves, placing books back in their proper places, straightening out trinkets, and putting new items from the vampire’s most recent trip where he could manage to fit them. Hongjoong sat at his desk, angrily penning a letter to a companion of his—Mingi knew this because he’d peeked over his shoulder and caught the beginnings of a scathing, ‘Per my previous fucking letter, I’m a little confused as to why you made this decision; perhaps my words were not clear enough, in which case I apologize and hope this helps clarify things...’.
Mingi rather liked Hongjoong. He’d been intimidated by him at first (he still was, only less so), but he was quite nice in his own way once he’d begun to get to know him. Most importantly, Mingi felt safe with him, and that was more than he could say for the entirety of his life before now. He’d never exactly had a father either and Hongjoong was something like a father, he thought, protecting and caring and disciplining them all when they needed it. It was comforting to be held within the confines of his rules.
“Joongie, Yeosangie taught me something,” Mingi said as he pushed a copy of “Caring for Your Fairy: The Complete Fairy Home Reference” into its place. He received a noncommittal noise in response. Whining, Mingi wandered over to the vampire and lazily perched atop his desk, hands sliding to shove his letter out of the way and body occupying the space. He laid back against the desk and smiled up at the vampire, tongue poking through his teeth teasingly. “Joongie... Pay attention to me! Don’t you wanna know what Yeosang taught me?”
The vampire gave him a rather unamused look, but conceded, and sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. He raised an eyebrow, waved a hand dismissively, “Humour me.”
“Well,” Mingi started, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “I-I... he, um, he taught me... can I show you? It’s better if I show you. Sangie said so.” Yeosang had not said so. He sat up and swung his legs forward, using the heels of his feet to pull Hongjoong’s chair closer. They both ignored the sharp scraping noise.
Hongjoong didn’t answer, simply waited, and if Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d have thought he didn’t care at all. He hadn’t scolded him, though, or sent him away so although he was being inconvenienced, Mingi knew he did not really mind. Hands trembling, as they so often did these days in the vampire’s presence, Mingi hiked his nightie up to his hips, revealing his bare lower half and steadily hardening cock. The vampire remained impassive, only shifted in his seat slightly, raising his eyebrows as though telling him to get on with it.
Mingi swallowed heavily. “U-um. I…”
Suddenly, this didn’t seem like the brightest idea.
Mingi fumbled and dropped his nightie, cheeks burning bright red. “Nevermind,” he whispered, “It’s nothing very important…” He slid down from the vampire’s desk and licked his lips, side stepping out of the way. He started inching for the door, mumbling, “Um. I’m sorry I bothered you. I’m actually sleepy now, so, um… goodnight.”
He stumbled down the stairs and went straight to hurriedly climb into bed with Mars, ignoring the witch’s sleepy, confused, “Princess, what’s wrong?” Mingi simply curled up against Mars, slinging an arm over his waist, and squeezed his eyes shut extra tight.
Willing away the burn in his cheeks and the stiffness in his cock was harder than it should have been.
Mingi could not bear to look Hongjoong in the eyes after that. To his luck, the vampire had to leave on an important trip shortly after and had been gone for a month since. Even with Mingi’s embarrassment about what had happened, he still greatly missed him. It was the first time he had gone away for so long since Mingi had arrived. Parts of Mingi feared he wouldn’t come back or that something would happen to him. He worried that perhaps he’d be hunted and they would never be able to see him again.
They were silly fears—Hongjoong was one of the most powerful vampires in existence (according to Woooyoung, anyway) and far too cunning to be killed—but very valid fears and fears that kept him up late at night, nonetheless. Mars at least comforted him with the secret that he often feared the same.
Tonight was one of those nights and Mingi just could not sleep. He had managed a few hours, but when he awoke and tried as hard as he could to get back to his dreams, he just couldn’t. He’d had some hot tea, some warm milk, he’d even tried to lay with Wooyoung for a while as his warmth always had a way of making him drowsy. Nothing worked and he had nearly considered drinking a mug of cream if it meant he could rest some. Eventually, though, he got up from the day bed and went inside, sulking.
Tonight, he couldn’t go to Hongjoong’s study. The vampire still hadn’t returned (he didn’t want to go either way, though—not after how he had embarrassed himself). Quietly padding through the house, he threw open the windows on the first floor. He meandered into the kitchen and made his usual breakfast. This time, though, he ate it at the kitchen table.
He weighed his options. Yeosang was likely sleeping alone tonight, but he didn’t wish to bother the pixie just because he could not sleep. Wooyoung and San were probably sleeping with Yunho and the bed would be cramped enough without him there to make the squeeze tighter. Mars was his only option. He knew the witch would not mind at all, so when he finished his breakfast, he quietly went upstairs to the witch’s room.
Mingi opened the door quietly, not wanting to startle Mars. The witch was a light sleeper on a good night and would startle awake at the softest noise. Mingi had learned that the hard way. He expected the witch to wake up anyway, having somehow heard the door creak. What he did not expect was to see Hongjoong in Seonghwa’s bed, and the witch’s mouth fallen open, face contorted in pleasure, as the vampire fucked into him from behind.
The witch’s name, his real name, died on his lips and he simply stared in shock, eyes wide as they roamed over the expanse of Seonghwa’s throat, marked up prettily and glowing under the moonlight filtering in through the window. His arms were pulled tight behind him and held at the small of his back by just one of Hongjoong’s hands, the other clutched just as tight at his waist.
A loud moan fell from Seonghwa’s lips and Hongjoong growled, “Be quiet. Or do you want everyone to hear you moaning? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my love?”
Before he could stop himself, Mingi whimpered. It was quiet, so quiet that Mars hadn’t heard it. But Hongjoong did. The vampire’s eyes met his in a flash, glowing dangerously and narrowed as though he were asking what the hell Mingi was doing. Mingi’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said as quiet as he could, cheeks burning red. He left the room as quickly as he could, shutting the door behind him, and ran down the stairs and outside to the veranda.
Minutes later as he lay in bed, he couldn’t get the image of them out of his head. He hadn’t watched for very long but it seemed as though every time he closed his eyes, his mind conjured up the image, and even the tiniest detail was crystal clear. Hongjoong leaned over the witch, his silver hair stuck to his forehead and neck with deep red sweat, his perfectly shaped lips curled as he put all his effort and focus into ruining the man beneath him. Seonghwa laid on his stomach with his hips hiked so far up and his back arched so low, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his body, hickeys and teeth marks covering his neck and shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed and lower lip quivering as he moaned the vampire’s name, breathlessly begging for more.
Mingi wanted to cry as he palmed himself through his nightgown. Yeosang had said it was nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn’t stop him from feeling ashamed knowing he was doing this to the thought of Hongjoong and Seonghwa having sex, something private, something intimate, something he should not have seen.
What would Wooyoung think if he knew? Would he be angry? Would it ruin all the progress they’ve made? Perhaps it would confirm everything the werewolf thought about him in the first place. Perhaps he’d drop the act, tell Mingi he’d only been pretending for everyone else’s sake and that he still truly did not like him.
It wasn’t though as everyone didn’t have the right to be wary of him or to dislike him because they did, and he could not find it in himself to blame Wooyoung and Yeosang for having exercised that right. He couldn’t blame any of them, in fact. Mingi had invaded, he’d shaken up the coven’s entire dynamic, pushed himself into a space where he didn’t belong, and they’d all been forced to go along with it.
There were times he thought that perhaps it’d be best that he left and returned to the City, to his mother. Perhaps she was right, he’d think at those times, he was not meant for this realm, and though the people still were not as she said, perhaps, without ever realizing it before, he was.
He could not help but feel wicked and wretched when he lay in bed at night, like he did now, and thought of them in ways he knew he should not when they were so wonderful and in love with one another. He could not help but feel this way when he envisioned Mars in all his angelic and holy glory, truly a goddess if ever one did exist on Earth. Mars, who moved so gracefully and with purpose, words never biting or harsh, no, they were always comforting and maternal; disposition always warmhearted, and his careful, slim fingers, filled to the brim with good intent, brushing away all that sorrowed him and replacing it with a slow, calm easiness.
Or Hongjoong, this cold, brooding vampire, always so distant and stern with them all, especially him, his little fairy as he liked to call him; never giving in to his unneeded wants, refusing Mingi’s self-demeaning words and reminding him to replace them with something kinder. Always so cold and ever abounding in his austereness, and yet still graciously allowing his company each night, never once turning him away when he heard the door to his study creak open. Hongjoong, never touching him, but touching him all the same.
Hongjoong was the Hades to Mars’ Persephone and loved him as Orpheus did Eurydice, loved each of them (but not him, although he wanted him to) this way; Yunho had once whispered to him that if ever one of them did die, Hades wouldn't be able to be anything but empathetic and allow this sorrowed vampire to retrieve his love.
And their nymph, his nymph, Yunho, who balanced him out so well in his soft-featuredness and boisterous personality. As lewd as nymphs came, and always eager, yearning, to mellow him out and help him to forget, to breathe, to just float for a moment or two. Yunho who’d all but taken him under his metaphorical wing and reminded him to be joyful, and to not get so caught up in his head, his emotions, and let them consume him. Even Wooyoung with all his haughtiness and razor-sharp tongue lashings, as cruel it seemed and as tearful it made him become when night had fallen, yes, even Wooyoung, caused a deep, rolling yearning within him; a part of him, every part of him, so desperate for his validation, his approval, his softness, the softness Mingi had only seen him share with all but him.
San followed Wooyoung’s every emotion, every action like a shadow, as though he were merely Wooyoung’s puppet. But even so, he had his moments. His acts of kindness, his sweet energy filling Mingi and helping to ease his nerves. San, who always believed in him and forced him to put his best foot forward, so easily and naturally balancing out Wooyoung’s viciousness; who was unfailingly willing to let him curl up in his bed as small as he could go, and tell him about his life, who and what he’d been before all this, before this coven, before Mars and Hongjoong, before Wooyoung.
And at last, Yeosang. A pixie who shared Wooyoung’s viciousness on the other side of the spectrum, quiet and unyielding with him, never going out of his way to make anything easier or harder than it need be, never offering a hand, never sparing a glance or even a curl of the lip. To him, Mingi felt as though he was invisible, even as they interacted more comfortably from day to day. He felt as though he was a gnat on the ear of a horse, a speck of dirt in a freshly turned plot of land, a single drop of water fallen from a bucket completely full. He felt as though he were nothing. Nothing, until now, until the pixie had decided that this gnat was not so irritating, that this speck of dirt was not so insignificant when it came time to plant, that this single drop of water had helped to keep his bucket full when Mingi had already decided that Yeosang was the horse whose ear he rested on, the Earth the dirt laid upon, and the bucket that carried him. That he was important, as important to him as Mars and Hongjoong, and Yunho and San, and even Wooyoung. That without him, and the others, he would not be as kind to his mind and heart as he was today, or as gentle and understanding to his body as he was now.
He could not help but feel wicked and wretched as he jerked himself off, the fingers of his other hand buried deep within himself as he lay on his tummy, the position he’d put himself in much similar to the one Mars had been in. He could not help but feel wicked and wretched as he imagined that his fingers were Hongjoong’s own, or his cock, buried deep within him and hitting all the spots that made his toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath between whimpery moans. That it was him beneath Hongjoong instead of Mars, being kissed and bit and covered in hickeys, evidence of something Mingi didn’t think he should ever have.
That, even though it frightened him, Hongjoong loved him too.
As spring turned to summer, Mingi found himself alone with Hongjoong; a very rare occurrence and one he dreaded after what had happened those few months ago. Mars had taken Yeosang and San with him into the city (Mingi was still not yet allowed to go, something or the other about it not being a safe place for a fairy), and Yunho had taken Wooyoung with him to do his bi-weekly rounds across his land. No one would be home until dinner that night.
Mars had given him the small task of watering the front and back gardens, and tidying up the house a bit. Almost absentmindedly, he’d said, “You have to do your part. This is your home too.” Mingi didn’t think he’d realized the gravity of that, or the importance of those words to him. Or perhaps he had.
He did not allow himself to dwell on it long, though, as Mars rarely elaborated on the things he said and Mingi had to move on to helping Hongjoong clean up his study. It often got rather messy; he got so caught up in his work, and simply forgot to put things where they belonged.
“No matter,” he’d say, “That’s why I have you. My little helper.” Which, naturally, made Mingi turn as bright red as a hibiscus bloom.
Hongjoong had been less distant with him as of late. Nicer, Mingi supposed, but no less stern. But, of course, he was stern with everyone (even Mars). He seemed to like being especially stern with Mingi in particular though. Mingi liked it; it was comforting to know what was expected of him, and what was going to happen if he did not follow through. He’d never had that sort of structure before; his mother was unpredictable when it came to her punishments. Hongjoong was consistent. Always.
“Sir?” Mingi called, pushing open the door to his study. “I-I’m here to clean. Mars said… Is that okay?”
As usual, the study was dim, the only source of light coming from the fireplace (Mingi did not quite understand why he had one; it was sweltering in the bayou, and they did have electricity, though he didn’t think this particular fireplace gave off any actual heat). And as usual, the vampire was settled in his chair in front of the fireplace, one of three places one would most often find him. Unlike usual, he was nearly doubled over, clutching at his head and breathing hard, despite the fact that he needn’t breathe at all.
Was he alright? Ill, perhaps? Could vampires get ill?
Mingi hurried to his side and fell to his knees, clutching at the arm of his chair. He watched him for a moment, concerned, then, “What’s wrong, sir?” Hongjoong fixed him with a stern glare, but said nothing. Mingi did not allow this to deter him. “I-I can help if you’ll just—”
“I am fine, Mingi,” Hongjoong snapped back with a snarl. “Do not make me hurt you. Leave.” It was an empty threat; the vampire couldn’t hurt him even if he wanted to, and they both knew that. To Mingi, it stung all the same.
Mingi bit down on his lip and slowly rose from his seat. More than anything, he hated making anyone upset, especially Hongjoong. He’d done so much for him in allowing him to stay with his coven, in trusting him to even be around them. He’d always come to his aid when Wooyoung got particularly mean and hadn’t once made him feel like he wasn’t safe with them, no matter how apprehensive Wooyoung and Yeosang had been.
It hurt to be spoken to so harshly and the fairy couldn’t help the tears that sprung to his eyes. “H-have you fed yet?’’ He whispered in spite of every bit of him screaming to simply leave Hongjoong alone like he’d been ordered to.
San had told him that when the vampire didn’t feed, he grew irritable. When a normal person hadn’t eaten, they’d be grumpy too; Hongjoong was no different. He wasn’t himself when he needed to feed. The others wouldn’t be home until much later. And there was no telling how Hongjoong would be feeling then.
Even though he wasn’t a part of their coven, Mingi still felt it was his responsibility to step up and help. He couldn’t leave him like this, not in good conscience. Hongjoong had done so much for him; he’d taken him in, he’d protected him, he’d cared and nurtured him like he was his fledgling. They had all helped him, and it was only right for him to return the favour. He owed that much to them.
Mingi eyed the vampire’s lap and grimaced at the difference in size. Glamour or not, Hongjoong would feel the full weight of his body, so there was no point. How he wished he was as small as the other fairies. With a deep breath, he shoved those thoughts back and clambered into the vampire’s lap.
“Mingi, I said—”
Trembling, Mingi slid his arms around the vampire’s neck and wriggled forward. “I want to help,” He whispered desperately, fingers curling around the silver strands at the base of Hongjoong’s neck and tugging his head forward. “I-I know I’m not a part of your coven b-but…”
The vampire’s hands gripped at his waist and he tensed, expecting to be shoved away. Instead, Hongjoong pulled him in closer. He squeezed his eyes shut and sniffled. “Please, sir,” He begged, glancing at him. Hongjoong stared at him, lips parted slightly, enough that Mingi could see his fangs, could see his tongue slide over them. “Feed from me.” There was a quiver in the vampire’s normally steady grip.
For a moment, it seemed like he’d refuse, and tell him to leave again for he simply stared at him in silence, jaw clenched tight against his urge to just bite. The fairy thought it sweet that he was restraining himself. He wished he wouldn’t. He wanted to help, truly. “My name is Hongjoong,” he said, sounding as though he couldn’t quite believe he was saying it, before tilting his head forward and nosing at where his neck met his shoulder. He cursed under his breath, dipping lower, before he murmured, “Once I do this, you’re mine. Ours. Do you understand me, little fairy?”
His words made Mingi shiver. Mine. Ours. The words had carelessly been tossed around by San and Yunho before, even Yeosang on a few occasions when he got too caught up in the pleasure of their intimacy, but they’d never sounded like anything more than a slip of the tongue, something to send them over the edge. They’d never sounded so firm, so serious, so assured. Hongjoong’s tongue laved over his skin, cool and wet, and Mingi whimpered, “I understand, H-Hongjoong, sir.”
A growl rumbled low in the vampire’s throat and he traded lapping at his skin for kissing at the flesh, a quiet, soft desperation despite his hunger. “You don’t need to call me sir.”
Mingi didn’t. But he liked to. It acknowledged his authority and power, and it was simpler than calling him ‘Master’ like Yunho, Wooyoung, and San sometimes did, it was respectful without the awkwardness of it not being appropriate in some situations. And, since Mingi had been exploring more of what he liked as of late with primarily Mars and Yeosang’s help, it was, to put it simply, hot.
He did not get the opportunity to voice this, however, because Hongjoong’s lips travelled lower and lower, and then he surged forward and sunk his fangs in just below his collarbones.
Mingi gasped, a whiny little sound, and dug his nails in the back of the vampire’s neck. His bite didn’t hurt as much as he’d thought it would; it almost felt like Wooyoung’s claws digging into his hips, only more sharp, more precise. Hongjoong’s hold tightened, and he pulled Mingi closer.
He knew that Hongjoong fed from the others but he’d never asked what it was like; he’d merely assumed it was violent but this, this was something entirely different. The fairy’s palms tingled, and almost like a bubble bursting, arousal filled him. Blood spilled down his front, staining the white babydoll nightie he’d borrowed from Yunho’s closet and normally he’d whine and fret over ruining something so pretty, but all he could think of, fixate on, was the feeling of Hongjoong’s fangs nestled firmly inside of him.
It was as intimate as sex, more intimate, even, and Mingi understood why he’d said he only fed from his lovers. “S-sir, Joongie... oh m-my ghhh—” He sounded breathless, words shaking, and he whimpered, squishing his thighs together tight around Hongjoong’s hips. And as though he’d done it a thousand times before, as if he knew Mingi’s body, had spent time mapping every inch out and knew all the spots that drove him out of his mind, even though he’d never once touched him, Hongjoong slid his hands down and squeezed at his thighs, thumbs dipping in to brush at the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.
Warmth filled him from head to toe, and he sought to draw the vampire closer, to find some part of him to rut his hardening cock against. He moaned, toes curling in his lacy socks, body reaching and wanting. He couldn’t stop squirming, already too overwhelmed. The more Hongjoong took, the more he melted, the more his brain fogged over; simple needs and wants were as far as his thoughts could go. He needed something between his legs, he wanted something to fill that unfilled space within him. It ached to his core, a deep burning, and yet, it felt so, so good.
Hongjoong lifted him then, and faster than he could comprehend in his daze, Mingi found himself sprawled across the bearskin rug with the vampire between his parted legs. The vampire’s hands clung to his hips, and every bit of his body that went untouched prickled at the disregard. Mingi hooked his legs around his waist, satisfied for only a moment with the connection, before the rest of his body was keening for the same treatment.
“Sir... feels good, feels so good...” He babbled petulantly, breath quickening and blowing out in soft puffs against the vampire’s hair. Mingi moaned, a soft little noise, a desperate exhalation that both embarrassed and excited him.
By the time he was arching off the rug, head tilted back against the coarse fur, and mouth fallen open in a silent moan, Hongjoong had had his fill and drew back. Mingi panted, trembling violently from head to toe. It was so much and still not enough. He writhed around and peered up at the vampire through half-lidded eyes, lashes clinging together from his tears of frustration and bliss. Blood stained Hongjoong’s lips and teeth, dripped down his chin, and though he didn’t breath, it seemed as though he was panting as he stared down at him, eyes darkened with lust — a look so similar to the one Wooyoung wore.
Yeosang often told him how ethereal he looked when spread out beneath someone, how lovely his moans sounded, how gorgeous he looked when he forgot himself and allowed himself the freedom to embrace the pleasure he was being given. He wondered if Hongjoong thought the same.
The fairy writhed under his gaze, twisting like a kitten, and rocked his hips up, searching for some friction. The head of his cock brushed against his soft, filmy panties, smearing pre-cum over the fabric and sending little jolts of pleasure through his body each time he bucked his hips up.
“What’s got you so worked up, hm? My fairy’s so sensitive...”
“Hongjoong,” he babbled through his sniffles, clenching and unclenching his fists as he reached for the vampire. “H-Help.”
“Princess, Mingi,” Hongjoong growled, cool hands smoothing up and down his legs. “You’re so pretty. My pretty little fairy. You’re mine now, hm?” Mingi choked out another moan and managed to pull himself up and cling to the man around his shoulders. Hongjoong ran his blood-stained lips up the expanse of his throat, leaving nips and kisses against the flesh.
Hongjoong grabbed at his ass and dragged him into his lap, hardly even listening to the fairy’s whiny babbles of, “All yours, all yours, I-I’m all yours.”
“San and Wooyoung have told me how insatiable you are. I can smell them all over you even now, little fairy.” His hands slid up his nightie, cool against the fairy’s burning skin, and pulled him closer until he was slumped against his chest, head resting against his shoulder. “You let them fill you up with their cum, didn’t you? Let them bruise you and take all their anger out on you.”
Mingi shook his head furiously, peering up at the vampire with wide, glossy eyes. He wanted Hongjoong to touch him, and he was, but not in the right places. “Didn’t,” He whimpered, rocking his hips against Hongjoong’s stomach. “I didn’t. W-we just... we only kissed...”
But that was a lie because he’d let them climb into bed with him when he was only half awake, listened to their sleepy murmurs about how they’d be gone the whole day, and wanted to fuck him before they left because he was just a dumb fairy for them to use. He’d let San open him up while Wooyoung petted his head, lulled him back to some semblance of sleep. He’d let them take turns fucking him while he laid there on his tummy, only able to let out sleepy gurgles because he was still so tired from the day before and unused to how quickly the days passed on this realm. And they’d stuffed him with their cum until he couldn’t hold it in anymore no matter how hard he tried to.
“I think I’ll have a talk with them later. They shouldn’t treat you so harshly...” Mingi didn’t tell Hongjoong he let them because he felt he deserved it.
Hongjoong smiled and leaned his head down to press a kiss to his lips, one hand lifting to cup his cheek. Mingi had kissed everyone in the coven but Hongjoong; the vampire had never avoided him per se, because Mingi had spent plenty of time with him; napping on the very rug they sat on, helping him with any work the vampire had decided he was capable of doing, or just curled up in his armchair reading while he sat at his desk and worked, but he also had never made a move of any kind. So this was new and thrilling, and Mingi was ecstatic.
Tasting his own blood on his tongue only sent another wave of arousal through his body and he shivered, wings flapping faster than they’d ever had before. He surged up into the kiss, mouth slack and spit practically pouring down his chin as he licked into the vampire’s mouth eagerly; Hongjoong bit and sucked at his tongue, drawing more blood, and a hand dipped down to tug his panties aside—Seonghwa had made him start wearing underwear, but that stopped no one, including the witch himself, from sneaking up behind him and pulling them aside to slip into him.
There was a mean little laugh as he tugged out the plug Mingi had put in that morning when he finally decided to get up; it’d been a task trying not to let anything spill out while he rushed to Yeosang’s room to retrieve it. Three fingers pushed inside him with ease and Mingi sobbed, relieved to have something inside of him, filling him, at last. He clung to Hongjoong, face buried in his hair, as the vampire’s fingers sunk into him over and over in a slow, agonizing drag. “Ohhh... please, please, please...” Mingi cried, fisting a hand around his stained nightie. “Need it... N-need t’be filled so bad, sir.”
“Are my fingers not enough for you, greedy little fairy?” Hongjoong asked, fingers pressing insistently into his prostate.
He truly didn’t mean to sound so bratty when he wailed out, “N-not enough!”
“Don’t take that tone with me, fairy.” The vampire clicked his tongue and slapped at his bruised ass; he pushed Mingi back down into the rug and shoved his legs apart, thrusting his fingers quickly. Mingi squealed and bucked his hips down into the fur and attempted to twist away from the vampire. Hongjoong quickly snatched up both of his legs with his free arm and held them tight against his chest, unrelenting with his ministrations.
“My pretty little fairy. So happy that you’re all mine, sweetheart. So good for us all, aren’t you?”
Mingi choked out a squeaky moan in response, eyes rolling back and fingers taking in clumps of the fur beneath him. “S-sir, Hongjoong—”
“Hm? Are you going to cum for me, princess?” Hongjoong twisted his wrist cruelly and Mingi sobbed, bringing his hands up to cover his face and pant into his hands. His thighs quivered in earnest, and Hongjoong laughed at him. “Look at you, about to cum just from my fingers.”
“Please, please, please,” Mingi sobbed, clawing at Hongjoong’s arm before he gave up and twisted in his hold, ragged moans falling from his lips.
He gave a little shriek, hips bucking up as cum spurted into his panties, thoroughly soaking the thin fabric and Mingi cried out in both frustration and relief when Hongjoong’s fingers came to stop, and pulled out with a loud squelch.
Cum seeped out, but Hongjoong remedied that by stuffing it back in with his fingers and pushing his pretty pink plug back in, murmuring, “So naughty, aren’t you, little fairy? Walking around with everyone’s cum inside of you. You can hold it all for a little longer, can’t you?”
Hongjoong tugged his panties back up his legs; he hooked his hands under his armpits and pulled him up gently. “My perfect little princess,” Hongjoong murmured comfortingly, taking one of Mingi’s hands in his own and pressing feather-soft kisses across his knuckles.
Mingi didn’t take kindly to his whines of protest being ignored as the vampire tucked him against his chest. He smoothed a hand down his back, praising him in between soft kisses. “You did so well, little fairy. You did wonderful helping me when you saw that I needed it. I appreciate your help so much, Mingi. I appreciate you so much. You’re just my little helper, aren’t you? Always so good for me.”
Butterflies and pixie dust filled his tummy at the words. He was good. But dread and panic crept in too when he heard the all too familiar cacophony of noise entering the front door; Wooyoung cackling about something San had probably said, the others talking about thing he could not make out, and Seonghwa above it all trying to hurry them inside, saying something that sounded too much like, “Hongjoong still needs to feed. Hurry up and get in! And quiet down!”
“Oh no,” Mingi whispered, horror washing over him as his mind cleared some and he realized, fully realized, he was in Hongjoong’s arms. The vampire was touching him. There was blood all down the front of his nightie and there was that unmistakable feel of drying cum in his panties. “Oh— what did I do? What did I do?”
He hurriedly scrambled from Hongjoong’s lap, ignoring the vampire’s unheard questions of concern, as panicked tears welled in his eyes. What had he done? Who’s night had it been to feed? Would they be angry? So many questions flooded his mind and he didn’t have the time to leave before anyone could see the evidence of what he and Hongjoong had done because the door to his study opened and Wooyoung, Wooyoung came in.
Wooyoung was going to be angry. Hongjoong had said Mingi was his. That he was theirs. He had claimed him. He had made him a part of their coven without even asking. What would they all think of that? Mingi was supposed to be a guest. He was supposed to stay and then leave. That had been the plan. When had that stopped being the plan? When did he decide he thought he deserved to have a space in their home, their coven, their lives, their hearts?
Had Hongjoong even meant what he said? Had Mingi just taken advantage of him when he just needed to feed? Mingi had spent so many months flirting and trying to seduce the vampire to no avail. What if Hongjoong had thought that was the only way he was going to get his feed for the night? If he gave in and gave Mingi what he had so desperately been trying to get?
“I’m sorry!” Mingi burst into tears and shoved past Wooyoung. He stumbled down the stairs, blinded by his tears, and ran through the front door before he took off flying, knowing it was the only way he’d get away from them fast enough. He ignored the calls of his name, the pleas for him to come back, the questions as to what happened, what was wrong. He was too humiliated, too upset, too disgusted with himself to face any of them.
He had no idea how long he flew. He did not care either. Not as long as he got away from them, from his mistake, from everything. He couldn’t believe himself, what he’d done. Perhaps he was simply punishing himself for he only stopped when he had no tears left to cry and his wings burned and stung from the hours long exertion.
Mingi landed in a meadow he didn’t recognize and collapsed. He was too tired to even think about the implications of what he had caused for them, he only knew that he felt horrible for it. For now, though, all he could do was sleep.
__________
It had only been a day since Wooyoung found him with Hongjoong. It had only been a day since everyone found out that he’d been with Hongjoong, that the vampire had fed from him, and what the vampire had said to him. It had been a day since Mingi ran and hid in the meadows.
He’d spent much of that time crying. Wondering how he could have been so stupid, how he could have thought what he’d done had been alright to do. Feeling like he’d taken advantage of Hongjoong in a moment when he was starving and desperate, feeling like he’d done the very thing the vampire had trusted Seonghwa not to do when they first met. Hurt him.
But even as he was filled with guilt and hurt and his body racked with sobs, he found that he did not want to go back to them. He wanted to go home, to his mother and his brothers, to everything he had known before because at least that had made sense. At least he was used to that .
A part of him ached as he followed the familiar route back to the house but turned away before he could get too close. He ached with the long to say goodbye, to say he was sorry, to say something. But he knew if he did, no words would come. He’d simply stare at them. He’d cry and cry and he would not know how to make it up to them for doing the unforgivable, the one thing he’d promised himself he would never do.
Returning home scared him. What would his mother say? His brothers? Would they be angry at him? Had they even missed him? How long had he even been gone?
Mingi felt so much as he trudged through the Bazaar, but of all emotions, he felt relief. The stares he received, the whispers he heard, the cruelty of it all… it was horrible, but it was home, and it was comforting, and it was exactly what he needed when everything in his life had been turned upside down so, so quickly.
When his mother’s house came into view, he ran to the front door, stopping just before he entered. He took a deep breath and turned the knob, slowly pushing the door open. For once, his mother was home, not in the Bazaar, and sitting at the kitchen table.
“M-mom,” Mingi whispered. Her head whipped towards him and she gasped. She looked so shocked, as though she’d seen a ghost, her cup nearly slipping from her grasp as she fumbled to stand. Mingi ran to her and fell to his knees, clutching at her dress. Never in his life had he thought he’d be so happy to see her, even after all the pain she had caused him.
“Mommy,” he sobbed, “you were right. You were right.”
“Mingi…” was all she said, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her nose into his hair. “My baby. Oh, my Mingi…”
Mingi was grateful she hadn’t said ‘I told you so’ for that would have worsened the blow. She was right, she had always been right, just not in the way Mingi had thought.
Humans were cruel, crueler than even an Autumn fairy. They’d rip your heart from your chest and force it full of emotions they knew your body would never be able to contain, then kiss you so softly, you could not be angry at them for it. They’d approach all the safe walls you’d spent so many years carefully building, ensuring they could and would withstand anything, and break through them with words said so carefully and lovingly, you could not help but let them. They’d lie to you and tell you everything would be alright, tell you everything you wanted to hear, promise you’d be happy and safe, that you’d never feel hurt or confused or frustrated or pain caused by anyone else as long as you were with them, but they would not tell you that ‘anyone else’ exempted them. They would cheat any chance they got; showering you in gifts and affection and oh, so pretty things to get the upper hand and get you right where they wanted you.
They were cruel, they were terrible, they were disgusting. The human realm was terrifying. And yet, as his mother held him, his tears soaking her dress and hers his hair, he missed that little house in the bayou with it’s beautiful, beautiful caring people and their cruelty and lies and cheating and violence.
He missed them. He missed their love.
Jeup returned home upon receiving the news his little brother had returned (Inseong had to stay behind, but sent plenty of love and hugs). Mingi was happy to see him, but could not bring himself to muster up more than a limp hug and watery smile. Quite often, these days, he felt himself on the verge of tears that he would no longer allow to fall. That horrible, choking feeling had returned and settled back in the base of his throat but he basked in its familiarity and comfort.
It had been a few weeks since he’d returned home. Three, to be exact. Not that he’d been counting. Mingi did all he could to keep himself busy, for with even the smallest idle moment, his mind filled with memories that hurt him almost as much as the people within them had.
The memories he found hurt the most were the ones with the two people that had hurt him the most; the memories of all those evenings he’d spent sitting beside Seonghwa in his bed, speaking in hushed tones that only Hongjoong could hear, about things they had never told anyone (except Hongjoong, for Seonghwa). Seonghwa told him the story of his and Hongjoong’s love, each time filling in details he’d left out in previous iterations as he grew more and more trusting of Mingi. He told him about his mother, about his former coven, what he’d done to lose them. He told him about all the days he’d spent, utterly alone and lonely, so feeble and weak from hunger and the blanket of depression he’d grown to find comfort in that he could hardly control his magic, let alone use it properly. He even told him about the times he’d tried to end his own life, something he’d made Mingi promise not to tell. “I don’t want the others to think differently of me,” he’d whispered, eyes wet with tears, “They’d understand. I know they would. But I can’t… you understand what I mean to say?” Mingi had.
And after all these pain-filled stories, most of which ended in tears from Mingi, which would more often than not make Seonghwa cry as well, the witch would tell him about Hongjoong and how he cared for him, loved him, healed him, put him back together into a better person, the person who sat before him and could love and love and love and then still love some more and had so much room in his heart for each and every soul that lived in their home. Seonghwa never said it aloud, but Mingi knew, somehow, terrifyingly, he had his own little nook in the witch’s beautiful, wonderful, gentle, golden heart.
Memories of the evenings, the ones where Seonghwa had been sleeping, when he’d sneak his way into Hongjoong’s study and eat his breakfast on the bearskin rug, then quietly worked on the tasks he’d been given, calmed and comforted by the gentle crackling of the fireplace and pen scratching on paper (though on occasion, he’d be graced with the sound of the vampire grinding an ink stick. He only did so when he had to write a letter to old acquaintances). He also remembered, as much as it pained him, the few winter nights when it got so cold because, of course, the fireplace only burned, not warmed.
Mingi treasured those nights very much for those were the nights when Hongjoong would wrap him up in a blanket so thick, he couldn’t move, hold him in his lap with his head forced onto his shoulder, and read to him. Sometimes the books he read were classics and very old, such as 구운몽 (which Hongjoong told him meant The Cloud Dream of the Nine, but sometimes they were more modern books that one of the others had picked out for him, like A Series of Unfortunate Events, which, as Hongjoong said, were children’s books, but Mingi still enjoyed very much. What Mingi enjoyed more, though, was listening to the vampire talk. He had a way of bringing the stories to life, voice never wavering or growing bored, always keeping his attention and him trembling to know what would happen next. His voice comforted Mingi. It made him feel warm and settled and happy on the inside. Now, Mingi could scarcely pick up a book without hearing the vampire’s voice in his head and imagining that he was reading it to him on one of those freezing winter nights, holding him close to keep him warm, and breath (because vampires had to breathe to talk, Mingi had learned), blowing against his hair softly.
Sometimes, though, the memories hurt just a fraction less. These memories were the ones, on occasion, he allowed himself to indulge in just enough that he wouldn’t break down completely and cry. Those memories were the ones where he found himself in a San-Wooyoung sandwich early in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, him crushed between them and so, so warm and safe. Safe enough that he felt okay when he cried into whomever’s chest his face was squished against. Safe enough that he didn’t care when he felt hands running through his hair and up and down his side, quietly comforting him. Other times he was squished between them in a very different way, both of them filling him, both of them kissing him, both of holding him, both of them all over him and overwhelming him in a way that was so, so good .
Those memories were the ones where he played with Yunho in the meadows, the orchard, the swamp, or wherever the nymph had dragged him off to for the day. Sometimes they played the same games, chasing each other or swinging from branches or seeing who could make more flowers bloom, sometimes they played new ones, like the time Yunho had taught him how to wrestle. Yunho loved that game because they had to be naked and Mingi liked it too because he loved how Yunho’s skin felt against his own, warm from the sun and slightly damp from his sweat because he always fought harder than he fucked. The winner got to have some of the sweets Yunho kept stashed in his room. But most of the time, they forgot about winning and Mingi always found himself getting fucked until he fell apart and cried or laughed because Yunho wouldn’t stop whispering jokes and silly things into his ear in a seductive little voice.
Those memories were the ones where he sat with Yeosang and they spoke about their respective species, giggling as they found so many similarities between them, and going quiet with interest when differences turned up. They talked about other things too, but nothing as intimate as the things Mingi spoke with Seonghwa about. Yeosang told him all about his pixie friends, the ones Hongjoong didn’t like, and exactly why Hongjoong didn’t like them. Mingi always laughed when he told him stories about the things they’d get up to whenever Hongjoong left on his travels. It made him feel happy, too, and perhaps a bit jealous, because Yeosang knew that Hongjoong could hear him, and yet he always pretended he was none the wiser because the vampire knew it brought Yeosang joy to get up to trouble with the friends he loved. In turn, Mingi told him about the few friends he’d ever had in Faerie, all of whom he no longer spent time with. He told him about his brothers, how big and strong they were and how he’d always wished he could be like them because perhaps, then, he would not have been a disappointment to his mother (Yeosang’s eyes always went soft when he spoke that way about himself. He’d grip on his hand. “Mingi, no…” he’d say, before kissing him).
Mingi’s heart longed to make more of those memories. But after what he’d done, he knew it would never happen.
“Hey…” There was a tentative knock on his door before it opened, his eldest brother poking his head in. Mingi shook himself from his daze, hands rushing up to wipe at his wet eyes.
“Hey,” he whispered. Jeup gave him a tight smile and went to sit beside him. He seemed nervous. Mingi had never seen Jeup nervous in his whole life.
They sat in silence and just when Mingi could not bear it any longer, Jeup said, “Why did you come back?”
Mingi looked at him with wide eyes. Jeup repeated, “I’m not stupid. You’ve wanted to go to the human realm your entire life and you came running back with your wings drooping after a month? What happened? You’ve hardly left your room the entire time you've been back. You look like you’re going to cry at any moment, and you’ve hardly eaten anything, not even honey cakes. I haven’t been in the Queen’s Court long enough to forget about you or the things you like, Mingi. You haven’t been yourself.”
“I’m just… dealing with some things,” Mingi whispered, looking away with a frown. He toyed with the ruffles of one of the legs on his bloomer shorts. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t. You’re not.” Jeup turned to him fully, eyebrows drawn up in worry and eyes filled with concern. Mingi looked away before his throat choked up. “Something happened when you were in the human realm, Mingi. I know it. Please, tell me.”
Mingi had always been close to both of his brothers. He knew he could trust Jeup, but he still felt afraid that Jeup might be upset if he told him. “I…” His face crumpled and he felt the tears start to roll down his cheeks. “Jeup, I-I met a human.” He closed his eyes and nervously glanced at his older brother, “But not just a human.”
Jeup raised his eyebrow. Mingi licked his lips nervously and wiped at his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. “It was a coven. I met a coven, like Hobi’s. A-and there was a human, he was a witch.” He was hesitant to continue but Jeup had always been strict and hated when he beat around the bush. “There was a kitsune, a werewolf, and a nymph…”
“And?”
Mingi winced. Jeup sighed, “Mingi. Spit it out. I wasn’t mad when Hobi left and joined a coven. I’m not going to be mad at you either.” His voice softened and he reached up to cradle his head, “I’m not mom. I’m not like her.”
“There was a vampire and a pixie…too…” Mingi expected Jeup to be mad about at least the pixie part, but he didn’t say a word about it. Instead he moved his hand to cradle his cheek and stroked at his cheekbone with his thumb, a small smile on his face.
“And you fell in love, like Hobi did.”
“I don’t like that word.” Mingi leaned into his brother’s touch and closed his eyes. “But, I suppose so. Yes.”
“Why did you come back?”
“Because.” Mingi sniffled and wished that he could be in Seonghwa’s arms. “It got too real . I never told you or Inseong or mom, but I’ve spent a very long time hating myself. Believing that I’m not deserving of… of love,” his voice caught on the world and he reached up to squeeze Jeup’s wrist. “I still don’t think I’m deserving of that. A-and, Jeup, they loved me. All of them. I saw it, I could feel it, I could tell. But I ignored it because I was hoping it was just too good to be true. I was hoping, n-no, I was sure, they would realize that I’m not good enough and that I’m not pretty or what they’re looking for, that I couldn’t be a part of them and what they have. But they didn’t. A-and then something happened, something bad, and I couldn’t stay. It scared me.”
Jeup thumbed away his tears. “What happened, princess?”
Mingi sobbed, “E-everyone was gone, Jeup, everyone. And it was just me and Hongjoong and I was supposed to clean his study because Seonghwa said so and I was so excited to spend some time with him because I thought maybe this time, just this once, he might indulge me. I flirted with him all the time, as best I could, and he never did anything. But when I got there, he looked sick. Hungry. And then I realized it was someone’s day to feed him and no one was home and I didn’t know when they would be, or if he’d be worse by then. I was scared. I wanted to help him. I did the only thing I could!”
“You let a vampire drink your blood?” Jeup cupped his other cheek and sighed. “Mingi…”
“Jeup, no, you don’t get it,” Mingi blubbered, “I let him feed from me. But he said if he did, I’d be his. I’d be theirs . And I said I understood, I said yes, and I knew what that meant but it didn’t… I didn’t fully realize it. And then he fed from me and I’d never felt anything like that in my life and we… he touched me like he knew me and I loved it and we kissed, and it was so good. I was so out of it and I felt so strange. But I felt whole, like everything I’d ever wanted was finally mine. Like I had this hole in my heart and then it was filled again.” Mingi inhaled shakily and whispered the words he hadn’t realized were true until now, “I felt like I belonged somewhere, to somebody. Everything felt perfect. Everything felt so, so fucking right. I felt loved.”
He opened his eyes and Jeup was staring at him, nose scrunched like he did when he was thinking. “Then why did you leave, Min?”
Mingi had asked himself that every day since. All those questions he had asked him that day, he knew now were only excuses. Hongjoong had meant every word he said. He’d accepted him into their coven that day because he wanted to, because he knew they all would, that they all already had. He hadn’t taken advantage of the vampire, either. Hongjoong was centuries old. He would not have starved if he had truly wanted to turn Mingi away. He would have been alright until the others returned. But he said yes. And he said yes because he wanted to. He gave Mingi what he had so desperately been wanting because he wanted to, not because he had to or because he’d been manipulated into doing so.
No, Mingi had left because— “I was scared.” He had been scared, no, terrified. In that moment, when everyone had gotten home and he’d sobered, it all hit him at once that it was so very real. He was loved and he loved. And the implications of that frightened him so terribly.
Ever since he was a child, he’d dreamed of that cliche, fairytale sort of love. And when he wanted a new kind of love, the kind where he did not care whom it was who loved him except that they simply did and did so with a love that was freeing and primal and new and ever-changing, a love that would fill every part of him and take the shattered parts of him and make them whole like the kintsugi bowl San had once shown him, and wrap him up safe and snug and warm, the love where he’d know he could be afraid and naive and that it was okay to be because that was him and he was so fucking lovely like that… when he knew he wanted that sort of love, he had promptly resolved to only dream of it because it would never happen, because who could ever love him that way?
But then that love, the love he had wanted for so long, happened. It happened and it hit him like the brutal winter storms of the White Gardens of the Winter Court that it had been happening, it had been happening for so long and he had never noticed until he was fully confronted with it. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung loved him like that, they loved him with the love he had always wanted to have.
And Mingi had ruined it all with his fear.
He could only take solace now in the fact that for a brief moment, he had everything he had ever wanted.
“It’s okay to be scared, Mingi,” Jeup said, exasperated. “But I never taught you to let that fear get the best of you. When you’re scared of something, you don’t let it run you off. Especially when it comes to love. Because as scary as it is, it’s something to be scared of too and everyone knows it. When you’ve got love, especially the kind it sounded like you had, there is nothing and no one in the world that can ever take that away from you, even if they try their hardest, baby. Love is the one scary thing in this world that you should never, ever run from.”
“I can’t go back.” Even if he did, why would they take him back? Especially after how he’d left? “I didn’t even say goodbye. I just ran away. I didn’t stop to listen to them. I just ran and I didn’t stop. How… How could I go back after doing that? How could I expect them to forgive me? What would mom say?”
Jeup smiled a bit and said, “First off, I think you and I both know mom is crazy. And crazy as she is, above everything, she loves us. And as much as she hates humans and their realm, I know that, deep down, she would want you to be happy even if she could never find it in herself to approve of your method of doing so.” He dropped his hands and took Mingi’s in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze. His smile grew into that familiar shark-like grin Mingi found so much comfort in. “And I think that if this coven you speak of loves you as much as it sounds like they do, they will forgive you, Min. So you can go back. And when you see them, the first thing you owe them is an apology. Forgiveness will take time but it will happen. Maybe faster than you think it will. And even if you hate that word,” he tapped Mingi on the nose playfully, “You deserve it. Even if it’ll take time for you to feel like you do. Let yourself have it. Let yourself have something nice for once in your life, baby. Please .”
“But, Jeup,” Mingi whispered. He knew Jeup knew that he’d been depriving himself of a lot of things, not just love. He could tell just by how the man had spoken with that tinge of desperation and the pout he swore he never did when he wanted something. He didn’t know how he knew. He supposed big brothers just had a way of doing that.
“If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for them. I’m sure they miss you as much as you miss them, Mingi. You care about them. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for them. Say yes. Please, for Queen’s sake, say yes. Seongie and I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore. It hurts to watch and I know it hurts you more. I want to see you happy again. I miss your smile, dweeb.”
Mingi rolled his eyes and mustered up a genuine, though watery, smile. “Yes. Okay. I-I’ll, I’ll… I’ll go back.” He squeezed Jeup’s hand then reached up to wipe away his tears with a sniffle. “I'll go back. I should talk to mom, huh?”
“You should.” Jeup kissed him on the cheek. “Because I'm not doing it for you.”
Mind made up, Mingi waited another day before he finally worked up the courage to tell his mother that he was going back. He was terrified of what she'd say, of what she'd think. But a small part of him thought, hoped, she would listen and understand. He hoped she loved him enough to put her feelings aside for once.
Mingi went to his mother’s room, wearing the nightie he'd run away in, now clean of blood thanks to his mother's help. It no longer smelled like Yunho or Hongjoong. He was comforted still by the fact he had a small part of them with him. He knocked then opened the door, nervously poking his head in. “Mom, can we talk?”
His mother glanced at him and then went back to getting ready for bed. “What about?”
“Um.” Mingi’s mouth went dry and he took a deep breath as he entered the room fully and shut the door behind him. He closed his eyes and kept Seonghwa’s words in mind. No matter how nervous he was, he had to do this. His mother would never respect him if he didn’t. Even after, she still may not, but Mingi was willing to live with that as long as he’d finally told her the truth. “I’m going to be going back to the human realm in a few days.”
“ What ? Mingi— Mingi, you just came home,” she said, turning to him as she grabbed her hairbrush and started to drag it through her hair roughly. “How can you go back? After what happened to you? After whoever it was that hurt you? You said I was right. Why would you go back to that? I thought you would have realized— that you would be grateful for everything I’ve done for you!”
Mingi held in a sigh and went to sit on her bed. “Mother,” he said softly, “I… I am grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I really am. A-and, yes, what happened… What happened wasn’t the best. But it was my fault. Not anyone else’s.” He pulled a pillow to his chest and squeezed it close. “It’s just… I was really happy there before I messed things up.”
She glared at him. “And you weren’t here? Mingi—”
“Mommy, just listen , please!” To Mingi’s surprise, she did just that and quieted down. “No, I wasn’t happy here. I was miserable, in fact. I hated myself and after Jeup and Inseong left, and all my other cousins, too, I didn’t have anyone. You were never here, I was always alone. I thought I would have a shot at being happy once I was put in my court, but you didn’t care about that. It didn’t matter to you so I wasn’t happy all over again. That’s why I left, okay? That’s why. And when I did, I met the most wonderful people, people who helped me at least start to like myself, people who made me happy. I wasn’t alone when I was with them, even if some of them didn’t like me at first.”
“So what do you want me to say, Mingi? What?” Mingi sniffled as she crawled into bed beside him and rubbed his back, “What do you want from me?”
Mingi laid down beside her, put his head against her shoulder and wrapped an arm around her waist. She held him close and kissed the top of his head. Mingi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I just… I want you to say ‘okay’. I want you to let me go back. I want you to accept that I’m an adult now, I’m all grown up… I still need you, I always will, you’re my mom, but… I don’t need you now like I did when I was little. I know you’re scared. I know you think I’ll get hurt, and I know that you’re worried about me being away from you. But I’m going to be okay.” He tilted his head to look up at her and whispered, “I’m gonna be okay, momma. I trust you and I respect you and I… I love you,” he cringed a bit as the words left his lips, but they were certainly not untrue, “I need you to trust and respect me too. If you don’t, you really will lose me. And I don’t want that and I know you don’t either.”
She sighed and closed her eyes, mindlessly running her fingers through his hair. “I just…” she whispered, “I hate that you had to grow up. That all of you did. You’re my babies, always. Jeup and Inseong had no choice but to leave and I felt like you were all I had left, I— I didn’t realize…” There was a small, shaky sigh. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, then.”
Mingi held his breath, clutching at her nightgown.
“You can go,” she whispered, “You can go. But you have to visit. Or I’ll visit you.” She kissed him on the forehead. “A month was far too long to go without seeing my baby.”
“ Mom ,” Mingi whined with a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll visit, I promise.”
__________
Like many things, returning to the bayou, to the house, to them, was easier said than done. After his talk with his mother, he spent a few more days at home, with her and his brother. He cleaned his room, packed up the few things he wanted to bring, and had even gone to the Bazaar with his mother to buy some gifts, hoping desperately it would somehow help his apology. He didn’t know what else to do.
If his mother was still apprehensive to his return to the human realm, she said nothing about it. Perhaps Jeup had already talked to her, begged her not to give him any trouble. Either way, Mingi was relieved. Her silence made it slightly easier when he hugged and kissed her goodbye and then let Jeup walk him to the Citadel.
This time, he did not feel as though he were being stared at and judged. This time, he could walk with his head held high (though he clung onto Jeup’s hand for he was still quite anxious). Jeup hugged him tightly before he left, whispering, “I love you.”
Mingi hadn’t returned the declaration, but he knew Jeup already knew.
A sense of comfort fell over him as he ventured through the swamp he now knew like the back of his hand. With that comfort also came fear and worry the closer he got to the house with all its floors and vines and flowers and love and life. The house that looked like a home. The house he had once looked at with longing for the life and love within, never realizing, at some point, it had become his.
His hands were trembling, eyes already wet with tears as he walked through the dewy grass, past the tree he had first met Seonghwa under. He realized now more than ever just how true the words he had spoken had been and just how important they were when he’d never quite heeded them before.
They never locked the door but Mingi knocked anyway. He could not find it in himself to enter a space he felt he no longer belonged in nor was deserving of.
The door went unanswered for several minutes. Mingi began to worry they’d seen him coming and wanted nothing to do with him. He would not blame them. But the door opened at last and Seonghwa stood there in his pretty lace nightgown and silk robe, looking as beautiful as he always did. Looking as beautiful as Mingi remembered.
His voice caught in his throat but he managed to not begin crying when he said, “Seonghwa, I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am. I regret everything so, so much. I’m not expecting anything from you. I just… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t even bear to look the witch in the eyes, frightened of what he’d see. Anger for how he’d left them? Disappointment that he hadn’t felt safe enough to come to him instead of running away? Pure exhaustion that he’d even come back and dredged this up when it’s possible they had gotten over it, over him?
“Don’t call me that,” Seonghwa said, voice clipped and raw with anger and still somehow so gentle and beautiful. Mingi wished Seonghwa would scream at him, hit him, something, give him anything but his calm and gentleness that he did not deserve. “You do not get to call me that, Mingi. Ever. You were gone for three years. Three fucking years. What is wrong with you?” The witch’s voice cracked towards the end, sounding horribly wet and so, so hurt.
Mingi started to cry and fell to his knees, reaching out for the witch. He caught himself before he touched him and clenched his hands into fists, holding them to his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ran away. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye, that I left in the first place. I’m sorry. I was scared. I was terrified and I didn’t know what to do and I panicked.”
He sobbed, “I was afraid when I should have been happy like you said. I didn’t listen. It felt like too much. I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready but I’m sorry and maybe I won’t ever be ready, but do I have to be? I miss you. I miss all of you and I missed you so much and every day I wasn’t with you—” Mingi bowed so low, hoping the witch could see just how sorry he was, and sobbed into his wood of the veranda. “Please don’t tell me it’s too late. Please.”
He heard a sniffle from above him but dared not look up. “You…” Seonghwa whispered, voice cracking, “You may call me Mars. What are you called?”
Mingi froze. “I… you can call me Mingi. My name is Mingi.” He didn’t want to hide behind a name anymore. He was Mingi, that was what he wanted to be called by them because he trusted them so fucking much and he wanted them to know that if they were going to start fresh. He was Mingi, not Princess, not ever again (except for sometimes, if they’d take him back).
“You should go back to Faerie. Your mother will be upset if she gets back and you’re not there.” Mars was crying, Mingi could hear it in his voice. He sat back and stared up at the witch. He looked beautiful even when he cried. He knew what he was supposed to say. That, at least the witch, had forgiven him.
“And w-why is that?”
Mars let out a little sob through a smile and leaned down to help him to his feet. “She doesn’t like humans very much and she doesn’t want you to be here. On Earth, not at my house. It’d be weird if she knew where I lived. What I mean to say is she doesn’t want you here and she’ll get mad at you if she finds out you were here.”
The witch pulled him into a hug, arms wrapping around him tightly. One of his hands cradled the back of his head, pressing it against his shoulder. Mingi clutched at his robe and cried into his shoulder, “Well, u-um, I think she’ll know I’ve been where I’m not meant to i-if she sees me like this, pretty witch. I should come inside and clean up.”
There was a shaky exhale. Mars whispered, “I don’t bite, promise.”
Mars pulled him inside and led him straight to the bathroom. “I’ll bring you some clothes a-and make you something to eat.” His hands lingered on his arms, as though he were frightened if he let go, Mingi would be gone again. Mingi wanted to cry harder knowing he had done this to him. “I’ll tell the others.”
The witch let go hesitantly and reached up to wipe his eyes before clasping his hands together. For a moment, he only stared at Mingi with a thin smile on his face, eyes soft and watery, and chin quivering. “I knew you’d come back. I knew you would,” he whispered, “But waiting for you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. The hardest thing, Mingi. And I can’t do it again. So you stay or you go, and whatever you choice you make this time, stick to it. I won’t let you hurt us like that again.”
Mingi inhaled shakily and refused to let anymore tears fall as he began to undress. “I’m staying. And I promise, I swear, I won’t hurt you, any of you, like that again. I’m sorry, Mars.”
“I know.” Mars stood up on his tip-toes and kissed him on the forehead.
Just like he had three years ago, Mingi took a shower and scrubbed himself raw, partly to get the dirt and dried mud covering him off, partly to punish himself. Then he took a bath, filling the tub with soaps, oils, and salts because he still was not good at making decisions. He sunk into the water, face and all, and just relaxed.
Strangely, he felt no fear, even as he wondered what the others would say to him, what they would do to him. Would they hug him? Kiss him? Or would they slap him? Scream at him? Would they cry? Mingi did not know; what he did know was that he would take whatever they gave him, gladly or no, because he knew he deserved it.
He found peace as the scent of cake wafted in from the kitchen, as he listened to the muffled voices of the others as Seonghwa told them that he had returned. He knew the witch had likely scolded at least Wooyoung for wanting to see him at this very instant, if he even wanted to.
Mingi didn’t want to be seen like this anyway. He wanted to look better than he’d left. He wanted to be pretty and soft and wonderful and the Mingi they had loved before, the Mingi he hoped they could love again (or, he hoped, they had never stopped loving).
Mars brought him one of Yunho’s dresses and when the water grew cold, Mingi stepped out and dried off. He flapped his wings to shake off some moisture and pulled on the oh-so-familiar banana yellow puffy dress.
Just like three years ago, when he entered the kitchen, Seonghwa was at the counter spreading icing on a cake Mingi knew would be soft and fluffy and melt on his tongue, and Hongjoong was sitting at the head of the table, glaring at him. The only difference was the others were here too. But they did not say a word, although it looked like they so desperately wanted to. They stared at him too. Wooyoung and Yeosang looked more angry, San and Yunho more sad. But he could see they were happy to see him again in their eyes. Their happiness brought him a small amount of solace and hope that perhaps everything would be okay.
Instead of sitting, Mingi went to Hongjoong and knelt at his side, his head bowed. “I’m sorry, sir,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. And I will do everything I can to make it up to you. To all of you. I-if you’ll still have me.”
“What part of mine and ours did you not understand the first time I told you, Mingi?”
Mingi winced at Hongjoong’s harsh, angry tone. Hongjoong continued, “When I said that, I fucking meant it, and you do not get to run off for three goddamn years because you’re afraid, you brat. You don’t get to hurt what’s mine because of your fear of love and your petty insecurities. Do you understand me, fairy? Nobody hurts what is mine.”
“I know. I’m sorry, sir.” Mingi hesitantly leaned his head against Hongjoong’s thigh and closed his eyes, letting his tears seep into the man’s pants. “I swear that I won’t hurt any of you ever again. I swear it.”
Hongjoong fisted a hand in his hair and Mingi gasped as his head was wrenched so far back, his neck strained and ached. “No, Mingi, you’re not understanding me. Nobody hurts what is mine. No one is going to hurt you again, not even yourself. No one but me. Do you understand that?”
Mingi sniffled, “Y-yes, sir, I understand. I’m sorry. Please believe me.” The vampire eased the pull on his neck and pulled him up halfway. Mingi knew better than to fight being pulled over his knee. He did not want to either because he knew he deserved this and that Hongjoong would not ever fully forgive him if he didn’t punish him. He also knew that Hongjoong knew this would be the only way he would begin to forgive himself.
“I’m glad you came back, Mingi.”
The skirt of his dress was flipped up over his back and Hongjoong wasted not a moment in beginning his punishment. Each of them knew why he was being punished. There was no need for a lecture. Mingi was sure one would come eventually, though.
He jumped and tensed at the first sharp swat and squealed out, “Ow!” It wasn’t enough to make him begin crying but it hurt. Hongjoong was strong but he never realized just how strong. He didn’t understand how Wooyoung willingly disobeyed him for fun. Hongjoong’s other arm tightened around his waist, holding him down and in place; the vampire spanked him, placing sharp swats all over his ass until he was dying to squirm around. But he stayed still with his toes on the ground, one hand tightly gripped around Hongjoong’s ankle and the other braced against the floor.
Mingi had heard the others get punished enough times to know what Hongjoong expected, perfect stillness and plenty of crying, so he was not afraid to be vocal. Hongjoong liked to know his punishment was hurting because that was what it was meant to do (except on the occasions he felt like being mean and would order silence).
He cried out with every hit, squeezing Hongjoong’s ankle tighter and tighter. “Sir, p-please! I’m sorry!” Mingi shrieked when a particularly hard swat hit the curve of his ass and whined, “S-sir! Ow!”
“Perhaps I should spank you every night to remind you of what I expect from you,” Hongjoong mused, ignoring Mingi’s yelps and cries and squeals. “Or maybe I should let Wooyoung and Yeosang handle that for me? I do believe they’re upset enough. How would you like that, Mingi? Hm?”
Mingi wailed, “I wouldn’t!” He clenched the hand sprawled on the floor into a fist and clenched his teeth. Tears had begun to roll down his cheeks and he knew Hongjoong could hear his voice wobble.
“Oh, you wouldn’t?”
“No!” Mingi cried, “B-but I’d take it, sir! I-I’d take it for you, for all of you. Sir, it hurts!”
“I should hope it does.” Hongjoong switched to his thighs, roughly laying firm swats to the skin. “What were you thinking that day, Mingi?”
“I was scared! I-I was afraid, sir!” Mingi squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth with a hiss. Hongjoong paused and Mingi took the moment he had to breathe, tears rolling down the bridge of his nose. “I-I, I realized that you... That you wanted me to be a part of your coven. Of you. And it scared me, sir, because I didn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve that.” He sniffled and loosened his grip when he realized his nails were digging into the vampire’s skin. He shrieked when Hongjoong started to spank him again and he couldn’t help but kick his legs a little, his hand flying up from the vampire’s ankle to clutch at his thigh. “O-ow— ow, sir, I’m sorry! I-I’m sorry!”
Hongjoong scoffed and tipped him forward, landing rough swats on the curve of his ass and sit spots. “And how do I know that you’re truly sorry? How do I know you won’t get scared again and run off like a fucking coward, that you won’t hurt us all again? How do I know that I can trust you, little fairy?”
Mingi sobbed. “I won’t! I won’t!” he cried, squeezing Hongjoong’s thigh and arching his back up. “Fuck! Because I’m yours and I know that now and I-I won’t hurt myself or any of you ever again! I promise! P-please, Hongie— I’m sorry, it hurts!”
“It should,” Hongjoong said coldly. Mingi buried his face in the vampire’s thigh and cried until it finally stopped. “Do you have any idea what you did to me when you left? I was terrified I’d done something wrong, Mingi. That I’d somehow hurt you and scared you off. I spent months wondering where I went wrong, where I could have done better for you.” Hongjoong’s hand still rested on ass, as though he were ready to continue if Mingi gave him even the smallest reason to. “In fact, I wondered if it had all been a mistake, letting you stay when you clearly weren’t ready for the commitment being in a coven requires. This is so much more than just a romantic relationship for us, Mingi. So much more. Being in our coven was never going to be easy and we… I had hoped you would be able to take that pressure.”
“I can ,” Mingi insisted tearfully. “I couldn’t then, but I can now. I can and I’ll do anything to prove it to all of you, anything to make it up to you.”
Hongjoong lifted him up into his lap and held him, just like he had on those cold winter nights. Mingi pressed his face into his neck and wet his skin with his tears. “I’m going to believe you, little fairy.” Those words, that pet name, comforted Mingi instantly; they told him everything would be okay. “But it will take time for you to gain our trust again. And, I suppose, time for us to gain your trust again as well.”
“We’ll take it slow!” Yunho said with a big smile.
“One day at a time,” Yeosang agreed softly, “But we’re all still piling into Hwa and Joong’s bed tonight to cuddle.”
Wooyoung stood and came to the head of the table. “We missed you.” He hugged Mingi tightly and kissed away his tears. “We missed you so much. Please don’t do that again… please. I’m sorry I stabbed you. I really am. I thought it was all my fault you left. T-that it just all built up and you couldn’t take it anymore, Mingi. I thought everything was okay and then you just… you left and I didn’t know. I thought…”
Mingi squeezed Wooyoung tight and shook his head. “No. No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t you specifically.” He pulled back and glanced at Wooyoung’s lips, wondering whether it’d be alright to kiss him. “It was… it was just, all of you. When you told me that you… you know, and then just everything on top of that. It was too permanent, too real, but I didn’t know how to tell any of you that it scared me. I thought you’d think I was flaking. I wasn’t, I didn’t want to. I just didn’t need the expectations I knew you were all gonna have. And then when I helped Hongjoong and I really was yours… it just… it freaked me out. I didn’t know what to do. It was too much all at once.”
“You never have to tell us that you love us, never ever. Not until you’re ready. And if you’re never ready, that’s okay too,” San promised. “We just want you here. We just want you to be a part of us, too. It’s okay that you were scared o-or that you still might be. But you can’t… you can’t let being scared run you off again. Okay?”
“I know. It won’t happen again, Sannie. I promise.” Mingi licked his lips and mustered up a small smile. “I’m here to stay this time. Forever, if you’ll have me.”
“I think we’d all like that very much,” Mars said as he kissed him on the cheek warmly. “Let’s eat now. I’m sure you’re tired, princess.”
Mars cut the cake and poured everyone a glass of cream. Everyone, save Yunho, decided the cream was far too sweet and shelled their glasses off to Mingi. This made him rather happy. Naturally, Hongjoong did not touch his and settled for nuzzling into Mingi’s neck, holding him close. Mingi whispered to him that he could feed and he did so, gently.
By the time Mingi was very giggly and very drunk, they all had migrated to Mars and Hongjoong’s room and piled into bed. Mars and Hongjoong at the ends, them all between the two, and Mingi at the center, positively squished.
Mingi had always read in his fairy tales that when someone returned to their love after a long time, it felt like no time had passed and nothing between them had even changed, no matter what. Their love was still pure and good and, well, loving. Their lives always went back to normal and they were happy and perfect and so very much the same. But this was not true because as Mingi laid there, content and happy to be between the people he loved most (though he might never be able to admit it), he could feel that something had changed and that nothing would ever be the same between them again.
But that was alright. Everything was fine, truly. When he was here, finally home, and so very loved, how could it not be?
And in the darkness of the room, long after everyone had fallen asleep, and when Mingi was curious to know what those words would feel like on his tongue and too sleepy to truly be afraid of them and what they meant, what they would mean should any of them hear, he whispered,
“I love you too.”