Yang found mortals to be an endless sea of amusing. They were easy to control, easy to manipulate.
She wasn't a monger for power or any of the sort. She was just the type who loved to live, who loved to have fun. She enjoyed being alive, something that was rare amongst beings that could live nearly forever. Not that the Fae wished to die, but life was a thing taken for granted when time could pass like the blink of an eye.
So amongst beings who could never comprehend that existence, beings whose life span was both daunting and underwhelming to them, beings who felt time pass, Yang found them incredible company to find life in.
Of course, they were also incredibly tasty.
And then, of course, there was the gracelessness that came with being so fragile, so powerless. Their sensuality was clumsy and lacked the skill of being sultry. She supposed the older ones closer to death were more her par, but older mortals weer droll, their exuberance fast being squandered by the reality of their fate and being made cynics by the way of life. She enjoyed the younglings far more, and if she had to endure the combination of novice advances with the confidence of a serial libertine in one mortal to meet one half that constituted her desires, so be it.
It was also smugly satisfying to knock off the socks off a self-assured schooling playboy and immortalize the debut of a virgin with her otherworldly prowess. It was good for her ego.
But that girl...
As soon as she caught her sent, electricity rolled over her in waves, like the currents had been summoned from every power source in the room to act like lightning. Only concern for her sister was enough to distract her from the call of blood so strong, and even then it was only barely. No sooner did Ruby indicate all was well before the scent came awash over her in waves. Yang's eyes ravished the compact starlet in lace and leather, the source of the intensity. She was mortal, of course, seemingly as mindless as the others around her she had bewitched to pay no mind to her bloodied lips and pearly fangs and eyes that turned red in the heat of passion. But Yang quickly saw that this was not the case.
The girl that had made her way to her front to dance had done so with purpose. As her hand found the waist and she matched her movements to hers, the shock came over her yet again. Yang buried her face in the girl's brilliant orange hair. She inhaled deeply. The blood was intoxicating in a way that was strange amongst mortals.
'Be a good princess for me and this night will never be forgotten.' The glamour in her voice was to enchant the mortal to do her bidding, lull her into submission and subservience under the weight of Fae enchantment.
'I am Queen and this is my castle. But make this night one never to be forgotten and I'll be whatever you need me to be.'
Yang froze in place, her grips instantly tightening on the girl's hips. The girl squirmed, but the blonde ignored her.
No mortal should have been able to resist the lull of glamour. The enchantment was impossible to resist amongst these beings, not without the wards against them that the superstitious wore.
Yang sniffed the air for them: dried Rowan berries, oak ash, vervain or four-leafed clovers. Salt perhaps, though she could only smell it in her - oh so wonderful smell - blood. The silver studs and the simple chain she wore were fake - cheap imitations of the valuable metal. The mortal girl was as unprotected as they come.
Yang spun her around with vicious aggression, suspicion letting red seep into the peripheral of her vision. Sure enough, instead of a dazed expression or even a frightfully aware one, there was a smug look on the girl's face. Yang narrowed her eyes as her blood grew hot, her fingers no doubt going to leave red sunburns wherever she touched on the girl's skin.
'What are you?'
The girl smiled and tilted her head. She would have looked inebriated by drugs if Yang did not know how odd it was for a mortal to be so aware of her true nature.
'I'm a witch.'
Yang swallowed thickly, feeling immensely foolish.
Witch blood, of course. Mortal blood so rare, that had sourced magic from the elements for as long as one could remember. Her blood wasn't the only thing that was alluring either. She was no bumbling idiot with misplaced self-confidence or a self-aware wreck of anxiety and nerves. Her movements were coy, deliberate, sensual.
Seductive.
Yang buried her face in the crook of the girl's neck, her fangs popping out and sinking into the soft skin. She was transfixed in place by the sheer intoxication. The witch let out a small sigh as she swayed in the hold and Yang threw her head back, letting out a long satisfied groan from her bloodied mouth. Witch blood was said to be highly coveted amongst Vampires. Yang didn't think she would be lucky enough to come by one for another lifetime.
Smug, the girl smirked and pulled Yang's face back to hers bloodied and all, crushing her own soft, syrupy lips against bloody ones. She fisted her hair into the golden, wild mane, not caring that they seemed to burn like the heat of vapour over a boiling cauldron. Yangs fangs grazed the inside of the witch's mouth, and the blonde retracted them, her hands occupied with ravishing the girl in her embrace.
The mortal girl finally broke away for air, and let her eyes meet with Yang's eyes. She bit her lips till she drew blood, then leaned forward to whisper. Yang nearly went mand with the buzzing in her head at the smell of the blood.
'The Arcana said the Sun would try to lurk at night, but that it was impossible. The Sun is impossible to hide.'
Yang smirked and kissed the girl ardently again, licking the blood promptly as her tongue dominated her mouth. Ah, witch talk. She wasn't sure if it was meant to serve as dirty talk for their purposes, but damn she liked it.
Yang could smell the salt of unshed tears and she pulled away to look the girl in her eyes. They were so many shades of blue under the strobing lights. She was thankful for her resistance to salt and wiped away the tears mutely before they fell. She was intrigued, wondering what had suddenly made the evidently daring witch overcome with emotion.
'You're nothing like him.'
Yang's eyes softened with sympathy. A heartbroken mortal. She tended to treat them with extra care, compassion awakened inside her each time at the sight of such vulnerability in already vulnerable creatures. That she was a witch made it more interesting, but still. Love and despair were universal emotions and heavyweights that shattered the hearts of many. Humans especially were wont to crumble under the intensity. Somehow they managed to live through it, tenacious as they were. Yang didn't mind being a part of the process that made this happen.
'I can make myself look like him,' she offered softly, pressing her lips against the smaller girl's forehead. 'I can make myself whatever you need me to be.' The witch was like a live wire, but she seemed to spark furiously at the offer, pulling away and meeting the gaze again. She shook her head furiously, her orange-red mop shaking along.
'No. I want you to be nothing like him. You're fine as you are.' Her wavering voice was adamant and she kissed Yang again. It was an angry, vengeful kiss. The blonde shrugged and licked her lips when she pulled away. They said that a mortal's natural magic was inside their emotions and Yang wondered if that was part of the reasons her kisses were as sweet as her blood. She gave her a smile that showed off her fanged canines.
'I can do that.'