#bts vampire au

[spookyserenades]

Sanctity - Chapter One

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Vampire!AU, yandere!AU, horror, themes of the supernatural and mythology, historical topics, vampiric powers, religious themes, violence, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, toxic behavior including stalking, torture, and manipulation, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Word Count; 22.8k

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Hello my loves! For those who do not know me from Trouvaille, this is Dana! I am very pleased and excited to share this brand-new series with you. It has been a longtime desire of mine to write a story with vampires. Sanctity was born from a love of history and a past with yandere stories. I sincerely hope you enjoy this first chapter and the love that was poured into it!

WARNING! There are instances of gore, including cutting. Suicidal language is used, so please be warned if this is triggering to you.

Next Chapter

The bell struck six in the crumbling belltower, two young men in white robes pulling on the rope to swing the massive metal fixture to and fro. The haunting sound sent a murder of crows scattering across the steadily darkening sky when they were startled from their perches on the Sanctuary’s roof. Y/N peered out of the arched window curiously, halting her task of wiping down the glass with an old, weathered rag, distant yearning filling her as she watched the black birds fly away to the greater unknown. 

“Y/N, it’s time to wash up for dinner,” Meredith, a fellow ‘acolyte’ and friend, reminded her, setting aside the wooden broom she was using to sweep the hallway they were working in. 

Suppressing an agitated grunt, Y/N simply nodded, rising from her knees and adjusting the cream linen skirt she was wearing, the hem of it dirtied from skimming the old stone floors all day. Following the blonde girl, the wispy curls on her nape appeared silver in the darkened, wintery hallways, Y/N wondered when the Sanctuary would allow them to light the sconces in the frigid building so the acolytes wouldn’t be numb and stiff by the end of the unforgiving November evenings. Not that the wardens actually cared one way or another if the acolytes were cold, as long as they were alive, blood still running through their veins, resources wouldn’t be wasted on a few paltry fires. 

“You know, electricity exists. Doesn’t it bother you that we’re forced to live like fucking peasants during the Black Plague?” Y/N seethed, Meredith’s posture growing stiff as she nervously looked around. Not a soul was in the hallway with them, so Y/N rolled her eyes at the blonde’s haughty reaction. “Relax, Mere. No one’s around.”

“You shouldn’t swear, Y/N. They’ll punish you,” Meredith whispered, her angelic blue eyes wide with concern. Y/N scoffed, her aching fingers curling into fists as they continued their way to the dining hall. 

“Working all day for nothing is punishment enough. What’s the prize? Becoming a walking transfusion one day?” Y/N, despite her agitation, lowered her voice when Meredith began to look truly frightened. “I’m sorry, Mere. There aren’t any vampires here, you know that, right?”

“Of course I do. They never come on Sanctuary grounds. I wish to continue being your friend, Y/N, but I do not wish to invite punishment onto myself,” Meredith swallowed, looking a touch guilty. “I’ll meet you at the table.”

Y/N sighed, watching the girl spirit away, a flurry of white skirts and matching billowy blouses. After so many years spent in the Sanctuary, Y/N realized she shouldn’t be as bitter as she was, but the winter months brought out the aching in her. 

“Talks like a fuckin’ walking pamphlet,” Y/N muttered, heading straight to the large basins lining the outskirts of the dining hall, cringing at the icy water that came from the taps as she scrubbed at her dirty fingernails.

At the very least, the dining hall was one of the warmest sections of the Sanctuary, thanks to the heat from the kitchens and the singular fire roaring in a brazier placed in the center of the room. The Sanctuary, free of 21st century comforts, was always crusted in ice in the winters and stiflingly hot in the summers. Sniffing the air, Y/N tried not to frown– food from the Sanctuary’s kitchens were never very tasty, even if she was often starving enough to eat a leather boot at the end of a day’s work. 

“What’s tonight’s mystery meat?” Y/N got in line, retrieving a tray for herself, and leaning up to whisper her joke into her other friend Joseph’s ear. Unlike Meredith, the dark haired man snorted, mirth flashing in his eyes. 

“Oh, the usuals. Beef organs or tuna. Paired with lentil slop, shitty kale salad, maybe a sweet potato if we’re lucky. Don’t forget the out-of-season orange and singular square of dark chocolate for dessert, too!” 

This time, Y/N did not hold back her light groan, startling a timid acolyte in front of her and Joseph, the girl dropping her hardened, ‘fortified’ bread roll onto the counter. Both her and Joseph bowing in apology slightly while they contained their snickering, Y/N shuddering when a slimy piece of beef liver was slapped onto her plate by a kitchen acolyte. 

“I can’t take these organs anymore. Why can’t we have a steak? Steak is rich in iron,” Y/N sat beside Joseph at one of the long tables, her ass smarting against the stone bench. Meredith, across from her, eyed her carefully, using her spoon to push mushy lentils around on her plate. 

“You’ve been eating organs for ten years now, squirt, aren’t you fond of them by now?” Joseph teased, prodding at the gory looking organs on his own plate with a fork. 

“For once, I just want a bowl of pasta. I mean, come on, vampires eat the best food in the world, and they don’t even need it to survive. Just pure hedonism,” Y/N continued, peeling the orange that came with her dinner considering everything else on the tray looked absolutely revolting. 

Every meal served to the acolytes in the Sanctuary was required to be chock-full of ingredients with an abundance of iron and Vitamin C, allegedly making their blood more nutritious and appetizing to vampires. So, in order for vampires to eat like kings, mere human acolytes ate like cavemen. 

“You’re especially salty this evening,” Joseph remarked, a flicker of surprise flashing over his face. Meredith had ironically grown quite pale, considering the supposed iron-rich meal she was eating should have had a glow rising to her cheeks. “Make sure none of the wardens walk by while you’re still on your soapbox.”

“You can hear their boots from a mile away, I’ll shut up well before they’re in earshot,” Y/N pinched her nose as she stuffed some lentils down her throat so she wouldn’t have to taste the foul mush. “I’ll stop now, don’t wanna upset you, Mere.”

“Thank you,” Meredith murmured quietly, her eyes softening. Y/N knew that Meredith understood where she was coming from, but complaining about their situations did nothing to get them out of it, in the end. “When we’re back in our dorm… it’ll be okay.”

Nodding, Y/N’s lower eyelid twitched at the thought of her bed– hard as a rock and no better than a bale of hay to sleep on, but kept her promise and changed the subject promptly. 

“What was your task today, Joey?” 

“Ugh. Joey,” Joseph shivered, nudging Y/N with his elbow. “The usual. Raking dead leaves and preparing the garden for the snow.”

“It’s going to be a cold winter,” Meredith remarked, her gaze turning to the stained-glass windows overlooking a frosty courtyard. 

“Maybe if we’re lucky, one of us will get out of here. Be able to stay in a warm building, with wool blankets, fires lit in every room…” Joseph twirled one of his dark curls around an index finger contemplatively, Y/N frowning at the unsaid. The only way that would happen would be if one of them got picked to become a human blood bank at the end of the week. Joseph read her mind. “Tomorrow is the Drawing.”

Drawing day happened monthly. Each acolyte in the Sanctuary was required to report to the infirmary wing and offer up a pint of their blood to be sent out around the area for vampires to “sample”, like some kind of wine tasting that could be delivered to one’s doorstep. Days after the Drawing, there would be a chance that word would be sent from a coven that they were interested in a sample, and the matching acolyte, in consequence, would be delivered to the coven to be a live-in blood donor. 

The Drawing happened for a reason. While vampires held the most power across the globe, it was agreed decades ago, after many conferences held by vampires and human world leaders, that solitary vampires must go through a Sanctuary in order to receive a human to feed on. It was during that time when solitary vampires began to form covens to decrease demand for a human donor, and Sanctuaries were born. It was also that time where vampires roamed rampant, claiming any human on the street to drain dry. The death toll was climbing at an alarming rate, so a compromise was reached: vampires could not “hunt”, only go through a Sanctuary to select a donor, one they’d keep indefinitely.  

Y/N often weighed the pros and cons of being selected for The Drawing: at the Sanctuary, she could keep her blood but spend her days freezing, eating nasty food, and scrubbing the filthy building. If she was taken in by a coven, sure, she’d have luxuries– good food, riches, warm clothes. But she’d be at the mercy of vampires, notoriously vicious and unforgiving creatures. That, and she’d be fed on constantly by the sadistic beings, likely for the rest of her life. 

“That’s why we got extra organs today. Figures,” Y/N shrugged, once again pinching her nose to choke down a sliver of meat. “I’m beat. Gonna head back before the final bell. You can finish my portion, Joey.”

Joseph grimaced at the nickname, but eagerly reached for her tray anyways, Meredith watching Y/N slip from the hall. Delicately dabbing her mouth with a frayed cloth napkin, Meredith sighed. 

“She’s always like this the night before the Drawing,” Meredith’s voice was sympathetic, resigned. “She never got used to it, even after all these years.”

“Can you blame her? She was living under the radar, forging her blood type results most of her life before she was caught. I’d be jaded too,” Joseph pointed out around a mouthful of soggy kale. “You’ve been here your whole life, Mere. Y/N and I knew what it was like before living here. Having freedom.”

“I know that, Joseph,” Meredith, to her credit, had the decency to look chastised. “I never said I do not understand. I suppose since the Sanctuary is all I know, I do not yearn for freedom in quite the same way.”

Joseph collected his and Y/N’s trays, smiling at Meredith wistfully. He often thought that life would be simpler if he began to think like her, but it was difficult to let go of freedoms after they’d been tasted before. He remembered the days where he could wander in untamed forests, on the outskirts of town, where he could pick wild fruit and bask in the summer sun. Joseph recalled Y/N telling him about her life of drifting, hiding– the excitement, the footloose feeling of it all. Smiling at his other friend still, he stood from the stone bench. 

“The freest we’ll be is if we’re chosen after a Drawing. And even then, we’re birds in cages.”

Even though she had pulled two pairs of wool socks on her feet before passing out in bed, Y/N’s toes were icicles when the obnoxious morning bell clanged through the hollow halls. Starting to regret not eating much dinner, Y/N’s stomach was turning uncomfortably as she sat up in bed. The roiling in her gut was not just because she was hungry, but the familiar unease that festered there each morning of a Drawing day. As she watched Meredith, who happened to be her roommate, pull the threadbare curtains back on their barred window dutifully, Y/N sluggishly removed her nightgown and dressed herself in the dreaded white linens she was forced to wear on a daily basis.  

“Hopefully I won’t pass out today,” Y/N joked, knowing that Meredith was usually much more relaxed about complaining when they were in the privacy of their shoebox-sized room. 

“They’ll give you juice if you do. Just keep your eyes closed and focus on your breath,” Meredith gestured to the stool at the foot of her bed, encouraging Y/N to sit.

Humming, she did so, staring at the ceiling as her friend began to braid her hair. Meredith’s careful fingertips raking through her tresses calmed her down enough to stop the acid in her stomach from rising into her mouth. Meredith was singing quietly, a hymn, from the sound of it, and Y/N was thankful for the peaceful start of the day, no matter how cold and nauseous she was. 

“You won’t have to go to the infirmary until after lunch, right?” Y/N attempted to distract herself from the fact that she’d be the very first to get her blood drawn. 

“Mm-hmm. B+ is scheduled for after the midday meal,” Meredith stopped singing, using a scrap of old cream fabric to tie off the braid hanging down Y/N’s back. “So I’ll see you in the dining hall, then I’ll meet you back in the west hallway to finish cleaning anything we didn't yesterday.”

“Thanks, Mere,” Y/N reached back, passing her hand over the braid her friend weaved, wishing that there was at least a mirror somewhere. Y/N hadn’t seen her reflection in years, except for blurry images in the surface of the Sanctuary’s garden fountain; the wardens rejected vanity amongst acolytes. “I’m gonna get it over with, head straight for the infirmary.”

“Are you positive that’s wise without breakfast? You hardly touched dinner, too,” Meredith’s pale eyebrows shot into her hairline, worry etched between them. 

“I’m worried if I eat, the spinach smoothie will make another appearance as soon as they get the needle in my arm,” Y/N pictured the tasteless breakfast she normally had coming up for a round two and shuddered. “It’ll be okay. Just like every time, right? I’ve been here for years. The local vampires don’t seem to like my blood very much, or at least the ones that this Sanctuary sends it to.”

“Good luck, Y/N. See you at lunch,” Meredith didn’t comment on Y/N’s attempt to brighten up– she knew the stakes were as high as Y/N did. 

God must have felt particularly cruel the day he decided to bestow Y/N with one of the world’s rarest blood types: the coveted AB-, a sought-after type for many vampires. Apparently, all of the blood types had different tastes, but Y/N hardly believed that. Blood was blood; tinny, salty, and a nauseating reminder of fragile mortality. There was a reason she had hidden from the world for many years, drifting from place to place. Those with AB- blood were hardly at Sanctuaries for long before a coven would promptly request them as their live-in donor. Y/N was basically living on borrowed time– she often wondered if her bitterness leached into her bloodstream and spoiled the ‘product’. 

Dragging her palm along the stone walls of the Sanctuary’s hallway, Y/N barely registered the crowd of acolytes passing by on their ways to the dining hall in the opposite direction from where she was going. Y/N was the only acolyte in that particular Sanctuary to have AB- blood, so naturally, she was by herself every Drawing day first thing in the morning, and the top priority of the wardens. Swallowing thickly, the scent of rubbing alcohol had her gagging as it filled her nostrils when she neared closer to the infirmary. 

 Of course, the infirmary wing was cold as ice both temperature wise and atmospherically. In contrast to the Gothic interior of the rest of the Sanctuary, the infirmary was somewhat modern (or was once, in the 80’s), sterile, and covered in pastel vinyl flooring. Her Mary Janes squeaked against the tiles, nervously wringing her hands together as she stared at the plastic dentist’s chair in the corner of the room, the clump of wardens setting up the apparatus to collect blood. Clearing her throat, Y/N pressed her lips together in a line as one of the wardens turned to her– Mrs. Sloane, a severe 60-year-old woman who ran the Sanctuary like the military. Y/N had an acute dislike for the woman, who saw her and the acolytes as nothing more but cattle to raise. 

“AB-, come here. Everything is ready,” her voice was dry, sharp, like a whip cracking down. It had her flinching, but she obediently trudged towards the crinkled old chair, mostly out of fear of having to kneel in the chapel for several hours in punishment if she didn’t follow orders exactly.

Knees wobbling, she lowered herself onto the chair while Mrs. Sloane eyed her like she was a slab of wagyu beef she was preparing to sell to the highest bidder. Biting her lip, she swiftly shut her eyes, heeding Meredith’s earlier advice. Perhaps she could prolong her anxiety attack if she kept her eyes shut the entire time, flinching in the seat when someone was not-so-gently rolling up the sleeve on her left arm past her elbow and swiping an alcohol wipe over her sensitive skin. 

“We’ll be taking more than usual today,” Mrs. Sloane announced, and Y/N’s plans of staying blind were foiled when her eyes snapped open in shock. 

“W-what? But taking more than a pint is dangerous, is it not?” Y/N’s voice came out panicked and thin, Mrs. Sloane scowling at her nastily. 

“Silence. It is not your place to question,” Mrs. Sloane scolded, Y/N’s breathing becoming fast and shallow. “A new coven has arrived in the area. They have requested a large sample of AB-.”

Dread flooded through every cell of her body, horrified that she was about to be drained dry, two pint bags on the steel table beside her. Barely having time at all to process that there was a coven of vampires that were new to the area, and that there was a great chance that they’d select her as a donor, Y/N yelped when one of the wardens pinned her wrist down and another slid the hollow needle in her arm. Seeing stars dance in her field of vision, Y/N whimpered at the sting of the needle, feeling sick when she felt the warmth of her blood flowing into the tube connected to the pint bag resting on her arm. She absolutely loathed the feeling of her blood leaving her body, like her very life force was being sucked out, and before she could actively close her eyes, they shut involuntarily when they began to water. 

“Calm down, AB-,” Mrs. Sloane sounded like she was spitting through her teeth, Y/N unable to feel her limbs. “You should be grateful. You’ll have the rest of the day off to recuperate.”

Y/N hardly heard the woman. Ears ringing, she was drifting away, a cold, sticky sweat coating her forehead. While she was struggling to form a coherent thought, one of the wardens must have switched out the full bag for the empty one, and by then, Y/N lost consciousness. 

Several moments later, Y/N not knowing exactly how much time had passed, someone was snapping in her face, jamming a straw in her mouth. Nearly choking on the orange juice that was being squeezed down her parched throat, her eyes opened blearily and all she could see was blinding white light from the fluorescence above her. 

“You may sit here for no more than five additional minutes. Then return to your dorm until the dinner bell,” Mrs. Sloane’s arms were crossed, annoyed that Y/N was holding up the line of acolytes outside waiting their turns. 

Though she was pretty much completely drained of energy, Y/N’s mind was moving a thousand miles per hour. With a new coven in the area, there was a very real possibility they’d be interested in her blood, considering the rarity of the blood type. She gleaned no additional information from Mrs. Sloane– typical– but how many vampires would be in that coven, if God forbid they chose her? Three, four? Four was typically the largest a coven would get, and the thought of four of them latching onto her at once had her leaning over in the chair and emptying the contents of her stomach into the bucket on the floor. 

It didn’t matter that she’d be free of the Sanctuary. Though she’d live lavishly, she’d have constant open wounds and would be psychologically tortured by the creatures. Suddenly, meals made purely of beef liver and beds constructed out of pallets seemed much better than cake and down feather mattresses. 

“Your time is up. Go back to your dorm. The midday meal will be delivered to you,” Mrs. Sloane barked, hauling Y/N up by her wrist. Feet faltering, Y/N swayed and scrabbled for the drywall, blindly feeling her way to the main hallway again. 

Dazed, her arm throbbed where the needle had been inserted, and the only positive that came from that morning’s events was the fact that she’d get to lay in bed all day instead of scrubbing floors. Y/N wasn’t sure how she managed to find her way back to her dorm room, but before she knew it, she was wrapping two blankets around herself and curling up in bed. 

She was woken up by Meredith hours later, the blonde bringing her a tuna sandwich on a undoubtedly stale roll. Choking it down like a wolf, she tried not to cry when Meredith gingerly wrapped a cloth around her arm, which was cruelly left to clot on its own by the wardens. 

“It’s going to be me this time,” Y/N announced dully, eyes on the overcast sky outside her barred windows. “I can feel it.”

“There is no way to know–”

“A new coven has moved to this town,” Y/N cut her friend off, Meredith’s hands stilling. Withdrawing her touch from Y/N’s arm, Meredith appeared tentatively unsure. 

“To Newport?” Meredith’s light eyebrows pulled together, disbelieving. Newport wasn’t exactly a magnet for vampires, most of the ones that resided in the area weren’t in covens at all, just solitary vampires. A new coven spelled danger for Y/N. “I heard that a vampire built one of the famous mansions by the ocean. Do you think one of the vampires could be him?”

“Well, if he is, then I guess I’d get to live like a princess. You know, the one that got locked in a tower with a dragon and shit.”

Y/N had a bad feeling. Not that she was one to have premonitions, but trusting that feeling in her gut is what helped her to survive years before she was brought to the Sanctuary. Meredith stroked the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her, but Y/N knew she was just as nervous as she was. Because the coven requested so much of her blood specifically, and was the only person in the immediate area with AB- blood, if the vampires liked her blood her fate was officially sealed. Swallowing bile, she shook her head, not wanting to put the cart before the horse yet. 

“I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I’ve been around for a while, none of the local vampires have been interested. Maybe my blood tastes like dirt, and I’ll be here until I’m elderly.”

“It’s okay to worry, Y/N. However,” Meredith sat on the side of Y/N’s bed, the old wood frame creaking with her weight. “There are many others here with rare blood types. Perhaps they will prefer AB positive.”

“Perhaps,” Y/N agreed, beginning to sit up. “Shall we go to the hall and finish the windows?”

“I have to go to the infirmary wing, it’s my turn. You should rest, Y/N,” Meredith helped her stand, Y/N furiously shaking her head. 

“If I stay here until dinner, my thoughts will continue to spiral,” Y/N shoved her feet into her well-worn shoes, slinging her braided hair over her shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me lunch. I’ll get started on the windows and wait for you.”

Y/N headed out first, leaving Meredith to prepare herself for her drawing. The blonde often liked to pray before the process, Y/N not knowing whether she was praying to be chosen, or praying to be skipped over. She didn’t have the stomach to ask. 

By herself in the west hallway, she picked up the rag she abandoned the previous evening with a rough sigh. The sky opened up and ice-cold rain began to pelt the windows, crows eerily taking shelter in the eaves of the bell tower. Y/N felt like their beady eyes were on her, able to see through the glass and spot her wiping the window. Shuddering, she couldn’t tear her sight from the birds, the superstitious side of her insisting that they were some kind of omen. 

Two days later, Y/N was trudging through the hollow halls after dinner, which she again excused herself from early. There had been no news about the results of the Drawing, but it didn’t stop her stomach from turning over in anxiety all day long. Hands coming up to rub her biceps, she glanced at the full moon outside of the large arched windows, slightly obscured by thin, dark clouds. 

Kicking a stray stone as she turned the corner to the wing with the dorms, she paused a few feet from her and Meredith’s door with a frown. Light spilled out from the open dorm, more light than would have been possible coming from the small candles she and Meredith were allowed for nighttime reading. Besides, Meredith was still in the dining hall, so the door shouldn’t have been open. Fear sunk into her bones, making a sticky heat flash over her skin with dread. Mustering her remaining courage, she crept towards her room like a mouse. 

Torches were lit up in the usually empty sconces, three wardens, including Mrs. Sloane, rifling through Y/N’s small dresser and nightstand. There was a large, old-fashioned suitcase box on her bed. Horrified and confused, Y/N accidentally bumped into the creaky door and snagged Mrs. Sloane’s attention. 

“Congratulations, AB-,” Mrs. Sloane was sickly sweet, and it didn’t suit her whatsoever. “The coven has chosen you. Help pack your belongings, you leave tonight.”

“What?” Y/N’s world was spinning, vision getting spotty. “Leave? T-tonight?”

“Yes, girl. Are you hard of hearing? Pack your belongings, we are to bring you to the coven in less than an hour,” Mrs. Sloane went back to her snarky self, Y/N holding onto the door in a desperate attempt to stay upright. 

Mrs. Sloane reached for the pocket of her apron, where she kept a metal ruler so she could strike those who disobeyed her, Y/N stumbled into the room and shakily tossed her white skirts into the suitcase to avoid being struck. Hardly able to form a single coherent thought, Y/N moved woodenly, so shocked that tears didn’t even roll down her cheeks. 

“You are lucky. The coven that requested you consists of some of the wealthiest vampires in the world. You will want for nothing,” Mrs. Sloane tossed the final garment Y/N owned into the suitcase, another warden closing it up and bringing it out to the hall. Y/N had to hold her tongue, considering she was about to shout but I’m going to live with monsters. “All seven of them have wealth, in fact. They are rumored to have great powers, as well.”

“S-seven? Did y-you just say seven?” Y/N gasped, flinching when Alfred, the burliest warden in the Sanctuary, grabbed her arm and began to pull her out of the room. She had never heard of a coven so large, and it made every cell in her body light up with sharp panic. 

“Yes, seven. Make haste,” Mrs. Sloane and Alfred hauled her through the Sanctuary, confused acolytes coming from the dining hall making space for them to pass. Y/N recognized the look on some of their faces, relief that they hadn’t been chosen. 

“But, my friends! Please, let me say goodbye,” Y/N begged, tears finally starting to form when she spotted Joseph in the crowd, his eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Somewhere, Meredith was probably thinking about the book they were going to read together that night. 

“There’s no time. You’ll get to write letters,” Mrs. Sloane refused, a whimper coming from Y/N’s throat as tears began to pour down her cheeks, getting one last look at Joseph who was mouthing something to her. Miserably, she couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, Alfred yanking her to the tall front doors, frigid air blasting her in the face as they opened. 

In the courtyard, a place Y/N had only been once or twice when she was first brought to the Sanctuary, there was a horse-drawn carriage. Y/N, had she not been in the greatest shock of her life, would have laughed– wouldn’t it have been easier for her to be taken in a car? Hardly having the time to look back at the Sanctuary she called home the past ten years, her knees knocked together when she was pushed into the carriage with her luggage. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed privacy to cry when in the carriage, Alfred clambering in after her with a grunt. 

Y/N didn’t talk to Alfred, mostly because he rarely spoke. At least he let her silently weep for a few moments, Y/N beginning to process the gravity of the situation. With watery eyes, she looked outside the carriage window, the gothic Sanctuary becoming distant as the horses trotted on. Her dread was temporarily numbed by the opportunity to see beyond the Sanctuary, land she had not seen in years. The trees lining the paved streets were barren, gray, and the hard-packed dirt had not a blade of grass. Even then, Y/N hadn’t seen such beauty in so long– a small taste of freedom before she was locked away for life again. 

Her tears continued to flow even when she greedily took in the sights of the town of Newport, the homes of the wealthy humans who did not have to give up their freedom for vampires, shops that had closed for the day, parked cars on the sides of the streets. It was odd to see the vehicles, considering she had been living in an analog manner for so long, Y/N wondered if she’d ever know what the inside of one looked like. 

“H-how long will it take?” Y/N asked timidly, not confident Alfred would respond, but she tried anyway. The middle-aged man looked up from his Bible, giving Y/N an unfeeling look. 

“We are no more than ten minutes away, now. Wipe your sorry face,” Alfred responded coldly, Y/N’s heart racing when she dabbed at her cheeks obediently. “You will not shame our Sanctuary by showing the coven how miserable you are.”

Y/N had never heard Alfred speak so many words. She was starting to think that was for the best, his words like a slap across her face. Part of her pondered if she’d ever hear a kind word again. Lapsing back into silence, Y/N sniffled up the remainder of her tears, the shock beginning to wear off and her survival skills kicking in. If she wanted to remain sane, and not give the vampires an inch before they took a mile, she had to appear unafraid and unaffected. Strong, confident, and indifferent, but pure, so if not to anger them. Vampires and their purity– ironic.

The houses– if one could even call the structures that– became grander and grander the further they traveled. The massive buildings made the ginormous cathedral the Sanctuary called home look like a garden shack. Y/N had a hunch, as they turned down a road that had imposing iron gates lining yards that looked like parks, that the coven she was to belong to resided in one of the famous Newport mansions. Passing by a white marble monstrosity, Y/N shuddered. The homes looked empty, cold, and imposing. Grand, yes, but the kind of display of wealth that had someone like Y/N, who lived her entire life struggling, clenching her fist in fury. 

“Won’t be long now. Straighten yourself out. The staff is to greet you,” Alfred slapped his Bible shut, grasping for the handle of Y/N’s suitcase.

Breathing shallowly, Y/N’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when the carriage brought them to the largest iron gate on the street, initials TK welded between filigree at the top of the barrier. As if by magic, the gates began to creak open, Y/N stunned by her first glimpse of actual electricity illuminating the gatehouse. Of course, she had seen it prior to her life at the Sanctuary, but it was odd to see the night lit up after living by candlelight. Gnawing at her nails, thinking that she could be shocked no further, an audible gasp tore from her when the carriage pulled through the driveway of great trees, an imposing mansion coming into view. 

Y/N had never imagined such a building could ever be constructed. It would take a person hours to walk the entire floor plan, the grounds aside. Y/N was struck by a memory from earlier that week, when Meredith brought up the mansions by the ocean. One of the members of the coven must have been the man that built it, and the only other thing Y/N knew was that the mansion was settled on a steep cliff jutting into the sea. One she could potentially careen herself off of, if need be. 

Her elbow was tightly grabbed again when the carriage stopped before the covered front entrance, bright lights nearly blinding her as Alfred shoved her out of the carriage, Y/N freezing instantly when she felt a foreign touch on her forearm to steady her. Eyes adjusting, she frantically looked up, not ready to deal with a vampire right off the bat. To her great relief, a blue-eyed– not red-eyed man, one dressed in a fine suit, righted her with a tight smile. A human, presumably a member of the mansion’s staff. 

“I–I– I’m sorry,” Y/N managed, cursing Alfred colorfully in her mind. So much for confidence. 

“Quite alright, acolyte…” the man prompted in a British accent, the first whisper of kindness Y/N had in over an hour. 

“Oh. Forgive me. Acolyte Y/N,” she replied quickly, accessing the back of her brain where cobwebs and her etiquette surrounding that event resided. 

“Sir, you may leave. Acolyte Y/N will begin her duties under our watch now,” the man in the suit removed his touch from Y/N’s forearm, not a single strand of silver hair on the man’s head out of place. 

“Contact us if there are issues,” Alfred hardly got out of the carriage, his scarred face twisting into a smirk. Y/N wanted to spit on him. 

“Of course,” the man replied, tight smile still on his lips, standing importantly beside Y/N until the carriage was well on its way back to the gate. “He’s a cup of tea, isn’t he?”

Y/N blinked, not knowing whether or not to agree, if it was her place. Turning to the man, whose posture had loosened up and a more genuinely friendly expression taking over his features, Y/N nodded slowly. 

“Forgive me. I’m Edmund, head butler here at The Breakers. Pleased to meet you, Miss Y/N,” Edmund extended a gloved hand to Y/N, who hesitantly shook it. Was he trying to get her guard down by feigning gentlemanly behavior? “I take care of important matters inside of the estate. If you have any needs, you can seek me out. Of course, you’ll have personal maids, as well. Come, let’s get you out of the cold.”

Reeling, Y/N watched Edmund effortlessly scoop up her luggage, timidly following him to the door that was opened by an older man, also dressed in a sharp suit. With a house that size, Y/N realized that the staff must have been numerous to keep everything functioning smoothly. It was somewhat of a comfort that the staff she encountered so far seemed to be humans, likely ones with low status and common blood types. 

Not even the imposing exterior of the building could have prepared Y/N for what the mansion looked like inside. In just the entrance alone, exquisite stone work, massive tiled floors, and tall ornate lamps illuminated by real light bulbs had stars circling around her head. Now that she was inside, she started to feel nervous again, waiting for a vampire to pop out from behind a thick stone column. In awe and in fear of her surroundings, she jolted when a young woman appeared from the left, carrying a tray. 

“This is Nadia, she’ll be your head maid. I’ll take your luggage to your room, and Nadia will show you around the first floor before you retire. She’ll answer any questions you have.”

Edmund bowed to Y/N, which had her blanching in embarrassment. The butler disappearing further into the estate, Y/N turned to Nadia when the young woman cleared her throat lightly. 

“Miss, I’ve brought you some cocoa. Hopefully it will warm you,” Nadia presented her with a large porcelain mug on the silver tray, a thick, sweet smell hitting her nostrils and making her nearly tear up. The only chocolate she could have at the Sanctuary was a square of bitter 100% cacao on Wednesdays and Sundays, not something decadent and rich like the cocoa she was being offered. 

“I can have this?” Y/N squeaked, not daring to take the mug lest it was some kind of trick. Nadia cocked her head, confused by the question. 

“Of course, Miss. Unless you don’t like chocolate, I can prepare you some tea instead,” Nadia began to lower the tray, Y/N waving her hands urgently to stop her. 

“N-no, no, you don’t have to do that! Thank you, I’ll take it,” Y/N wrapped her hands around the ceramic mug, the warmth soothing her frozen fingers. “Um, you can call me Y/N if you want, please.”

Y/N was already weirded out, and people addressing her by formal titles was definitely a camel back-breaking straw. Nadia set her tray aside, watching Y/N take a shaky sip of the cocoa. It was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted, and she couldn’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed when she drained the whole mug in five seconds flat. The drink was thick, rich, and warmed her from the inside out. She both wanted to cry and beg for a second mug. 

“You must be freezing, shall we head into the hall? It’s much warmer there,” Nadia gestured forward, Y/N glancing at what appeared to be a giant ballroom in front of her. Gulping, she nodded, following the woman timidly. So far, not a single mention of the vampires that allegedly lived in the mansion. “If you’d like, I can draw you a hot bath when we get to your bedroom. I’ve filled your dresser with warm clothes for you to sleep in, too, I’ll put them on your bed… This is the Great Hall. I imagine the coven will hold parties here from time to time.”

Y/N didn’t know where to look. Between the sheer size of the space, the ornate artwork painted on the ceiling, and the endless colors swirling around the room, her vision finally landed on the enormous fireplace roaring at one end of the hall. It was then when she noticed it was the first time since mid-October she wasn’t chilly. Prior to that evening, Y/N had a lot of assumptions about vampires. One of the assumptions was that they would prefer to live in a cold and dark environment, but the mansion she was standing in was toasty and brightly lit. 

“It’s… big,” Y/N managed weakly, Nadia leading her to a red-carpeted staircase. All she could do was follow, wanting to ask the maid a few questions about the coven, but she knew that vampires had superior hearing and she didn’t want to attract the attention of one of them. 

“Yes, but you will become accustomed to it. I can help you navigate the interior and grounds until you know your own way around. Oh, right here. This is a portrait of Master Taehyung. He built this estate,” Nadia paused on the landing, where the staircase split into two directions. 

Whipping her head upwards, she soaked in the lines of the old painted canvas, Nadia’s first mention of the vampires making her heart stop dead in her chest. The man depicted in the painting was beautiful, which was typical for the creatures, but Taehyung nearly took her breath away. Dressed in a Victorian-style suit, the vampire had a cold, stern expression. His dark wavy hair was parted down the middle neatly, and of course, the vampiric red irises staring back at her made her stomach turn in fear. Schooling her features, Y/N bit her lip at Nadia’s expectant expression. 

“He’s, um. Handsome,” Y/N offered, hoping that her voice wasn’t wavering, Nadia nodded, resuming her ascent up the stairs. 

“Master Taehyung made his fortune in steamships, railroads, and shipping in the mid-1800’s. He’s a legendary businessman,” Nadia informed her, Y/N cringing that she referred to the creature as a ‘man’. Nadia herself didn’t seem to have a problem with the vampire, and in fact, her voice almost implied that she admired Taehyung. “All seven of our masters are impressive men.”

“Wait, they’re all male?” Y/N stopped in her tracks, feeling the blood drain from her face. She was hoping for a coven of mostly female vampires, theorizing that perhaps they’d be less vicious. 

“Yes, I’m sure you know that it’s atypical for a coven to be both so large and of all one gender. The masters are like-minded, which is why they chose to form the coven,” Nadia explained, stopping at a door at the end of the hall, beside a breezeway that likely looked out onto the ocean. “Here we are, this is where you’ll stay. The rest of the bedrooms on this floor are occupied by five of the masters, Masters Seokjin and Namjoon prefer the bedrooms on the third floor due to privacy of the quarters.”

Y/N swallowed, stepping into her new bedroom, which was bigger than four dorm rooms at the Sanctuary smashed together. The walls were covered in an intricate pink floral wallpaper, all of the upholstered furniture a matching shade of blushing rose, and the marble fireplace was lit already. The room was decidedly feminine, Y/N’s eyes catching on a painting above a nightstand depicting dancing women. Nadia, as she was bumbling around the room selecting clothes from a dresser, noticed Y/N staring at it. It was expertly painted, precise. 

“That is one of Master Yoongi’s pieces, depicting the Nine Muses of Greek mythology,” Nadia placed flannel pajamas on Y/N’s new bed, which looked plush and was piled high with thick pillows. “Master Yoongi is a painter, an artist. Very famous.”

“Really?” Y/N knew nothing about art, let alone Greek mythology. She didn’t have the luxury of studying those things. 

“The hour is growing late, Miss. I can tell you more about the masters in the morning. They will not be back from the affairs that called them away tonight until midday tomorrow,” Nadia pulled out a pocket watch from her apron, heading towards a door by the back of the bedroom. “I’ll run your bath, and leave you to rest. You’ll be woken in the morning for breakfast.”

Moments later, Y/N was left alone in her very own bathroom, not a communal one like she was used to at the Sanctuary with cold water taps. The bathtub had steaming water filling the room with humidity, the scent of lavender oil somewhat easing her frayed nerves. Chewing her lip, she decided she might as well indulge in the hot bath, considering her muscles were beyond stiff and there was no way she’d be able to fall asleep right away, if at all. 

Part of her wondered what kind of ‘affairs’ that the vampires were involved with. If it were her, and she had accumulated all of that wealth and immortality, she’d spend her days lazing around. The other part of her was thanking the sky that none of them were in the building; she had more time to prepare herself to meet the creatures the following day. Stiffly, she began to untie her skirt, letting the fabric hit the floor. Y/N supposed never having to wear those skirts again was a bit of a silver lining. Kicking it to the side, Y/N’s vision caught on something silvery and polished– an actual mirror. Eagerly, she dashed to the sink it was fixed over to catch a glimpse of herself for the very first time in ages. 

Unable to help the gasp that came from her mouth, Y/N didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. The image of herself she had in her mind was her fifteen year old self, not the twenty-five year-old reflected in the polished silver. In awe, she traced her sharpened jaw and cheekbone, lacking teenage fullness, and she realized that she had forgotten the color of her eyes. Tearing up a little, she turned from side to side, getting a look at her figure– even going as far as removing the rest of her clothing in curiosity. Poking at areas of her body she was unfamiliar with in the mirror, like the curve to her hips, Y/N felt rather odd. The whole evening had her entire world turning upside-down. 

After several moments, she tore her attention from the mirror, only feeling slightly guilty of vanity, and tentatively dipped a toe into the bath. The water didn’t immediately dissolve her skin and bones, so she slowly sunk her body into the porcelain basin with a ragged groan. Maybe she had died and went somewhere beautiful, because being treated like royalty so far was not something she predicted. In the back of her mind, she reminded herself not to get too comfortable. She hadn’t even met the coven yet, and for all she knew, they could be horrible individuals. Nadia didn’t speak of them in that way– but maybe the maid wouldn’t dare. 

Y/N sat in the bath until the water became lukewarm and her skin was pruny. Limbs loose, she wrapped herself in a plush towel that was waiting for her on a rack that actually heated the towel. While the ends of her hair dripped water on the tiled floor, she bent down, looking through a chest beside the sink with interest. Each drawer held essential and non-essential toiletries, some things Y/N had never even heard of. Picking up a bottle of ‘skin oil’ and ‘hair detangler’, she blinked in confusion. Was it Nadia who stocked the drawers for her? Or were the vampires considerate enough to provide her with a toothbrush and facial cleanser?

Head full of cotton, she decided to ignore all of the products she was unfamiliar with and simply brushed her teeth and combed her hair. Peeking out of the bathroom door to make sure that no one had entered the room while she was bathing, Y/N tip-toed across the richly carpeted floor towards the ridiculously large bed. The fire was still going, warming the room, and Y/N hesitantly slid into a pair of flannel pajama pants left out for her. The elasticated waistband hugged her hips perfectly, and as she buttoned up the top and pulled on fluffy socks, she speculated about how Nadia managed to figure out her measurements. The Sanctuary probably had some sort of file on all of her personal information, which had her skin crawling. 

While she was still on edge, her body was so relaxed from the bath that with slight resignation, she maneuvered herself under the sheets and heavy blankets, clasping a hand over her mouth as she sunk comically into the mattress. The bed hugged her in all directions, like getting to sleep on a cloud, and as she stared at the ceiling in awe, Y/N squirmed around to get in a cozy position curled up tight on her side protectively. 

The lights would remain on, that was for sure. Y/N was never afraid of the dark per se, but in a new environment, she wasn’t risking things watching her from the shadows of the old estate. While memorizing the shapes of the intricate carvings on the ceiling, Y/N tried to make a mental list of everything she knew about vampires in general, and the specifics of the ones she was about to serve. 

Over the centuries, there were several old wives tales that were circulated by humans surrounding vampires; but Y/N hardly knew which ones were fact or fiction. There were the superstitions passed down through common blood-typed, lower class humans that would work as maids and butlers to the vampires, the awe-inspiring, intimidating tidbits wealthy and influential humans would spread after doing business with the creatures. Then, of course, was the probable propaganda Y/N and her fellow acolytes were spoon-fed in Sanctuaries. 

Y/N started with what she knew was just plain phony: vampires did not have an aversion to the sun and could walk around in daylight as they pleased. They did not flee from crosses or garlic, and they could not be exterminated by a stake through the heart. Acolytes were told that vampires could not be killed, and had few, if any, weaknesses. That was enough to have Y/N shivering, even beneath all of her blankets and flannel pajamas. 

The older the vampire, the less in-touch with humanity they became. There was a recalled memory, a boring lecture in the Sanctuary’s dusty chapel, which consisted of a hazy memory of Y/N copying down ‘Oldest known vampire is aged 1,291 years, but some may be even older’. Y/N couldn’t even fathom living to be in her forties, let alone how it must be to live for over a century. On the other hand, ‘younger’ vampires– under three hundred years old– tended to be bolder, and adapted to modern times with greater ease. 

Vampires needed human blood to sustain their powers, immortality, and to keep their internal organs functioning properly. While considered to be undead, a vampire’s heart kept beating, lungs brought in oxygen, and they could even digest human food if the creatures had consistent access to blood. Squeezing her eyes shut tight at the image of a vampire tearing into a rare steak, Y/N started to count off the things she found out from Nadia about the particular coven that requested her from the Sanctuary. 

First, there was only a brief visual she had of one out of the seven, ‘Master’ Taehyung. Y/N prayed she wouldn’t have to use a title on any of them, but it was likely out of her hands. Sure, the portrait depicted a handsome young man, with all the airs of importance and wealth– but Y/N couldn’t get his unearthly red irises out of her mind. Taehyung was the vampire that commissioned the construction of the mansion she was currently cowering in, apparently a business tycoon that dominated during the Gilded Age. The next piece of information she got was ‘Seokjin’ and ‘Namjoon’ living on a separate floor for additional privacy, which made her nervous for some reason. Which was more dangerous, vampires in the bedroom next door to her, or those hidden in spots she hadn’t even toured yet?

The last thing she learned about one of the vampires– Yoongi– from Nadia is that he was evidently a famous artist. Cracking one sore eye open, she stared at the elaborately framed artwork above her nightstand again, noticing the fading of the paint and how it aged the piece. How old was the painting, and how old was Yoongi? Shutting her eyes once more, she sunk deeper into the mattress and pulled her blankets over her head. Nadia promised she’d answer any additional questions Y/N had over breakfast, so Y/N miraculously fell asleep by coming up with a handful of queries. 

“Miss, hello? The sun has risen,” Y/N sat up in her bed with a sharp gasp, her hair hanging in her face like a nest. Whipping her head around frantically, she couldn’t believe she actually managed to get some sleep in a brand-new setting so easily. Knocking on the door, as well as a mousy, unfamiliar voice had her stumbling to her feet frantically. “May I come in, Miss?”

“Um, uh, yes, come in,” Y/N panicked, smoothing her wrinkled flannel shirt into place and hastily raking hair from her face. The door creaked open, a young woman who wasn’t Nadia hurrying in– her uniform pristinely pressed. 

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. I’m Juliana, I work under Nadia. I’ll be helping you with your morning routine, while Nadia handles more important matters– coordinating breakfast, of course,” Juliana gave Y/N a slight bow, Y/N’s mouth dropping open at the gesture.

Before she could respond, Juliana began to draw the great curtains around the room open, the blinding white light of the early winter morning flooding into the room and stinging her eyes. When her vision returned to her, she gasped again at the sight just beyond the windows. Unable to help herself, she tripped towards one of the windows, grappling for the sill so she could steady herself. 

Her room overlooked the backyard– if one could even call it that– and beyond the manicured grass and gardens was the vast, unending ocean once the landscaping dropped off of the famous cliff. It was like her eyes couldn’t absorb enough of the scenery, and impatiently, she pressed her forehead to the glass plane to gawk at the icy, gray ocean. 

“In this drawer, here, we’ve placed warm pants for you– leggings, jeans, corduroys. If you prefer skirts and wool tights, those are hanging in your closet, and your tops and sweaters are in this armoire, here. Underthings are located in the lingerie chest beside you,” Juliana opened up various drawers, light on her feet and peppy, her curly brown hair bouncing with her movements.

“Lin… lingerie?” Y/N tasted the unfamiliar word on her tongue, attention effectively stolen from the gorgeous view beyond her windows. 

“Forgive me. It’s another word for your undergarments, such as brassiers?” Juliana clarified, raising her brows and crossing the room. Y/N had not a single clue what she was talking about, following her like a duckling. 

“Oh! I’ve never…” Y/N suddenly felt immensely awkward, peering into the drawer that held garments she hadn’t worn while at the Sanctuary– the thick, burlap material of the Sanctuary tops were all she got, not delicate lacy scraps of fabric that seemed to exist for the sole purpose of cradling her chest. “Um, okay. I can… wear whatever I want?”

“Yes, yes, as long as you’re comfortable, Miss,” Juliana took Y/N’s confusion in stride, moving towards the fireplace. Taking up a fire poker, the maid prodded at the glowing embers in the hearth. “I hope you were warm enough while you slept. The fire tends to go out in the middle of the night.”

“Y-yes, I was fine. Plenty of blankets,” Y/N chuckled nervously, not used to being so diligently cared for. Would it always be like that? “Um… have they returned?” 

“They? You mean the masters?” Juliana paused, replacing the fire poker back on the rack. “They’ll be back before noon.”

“Okay,” Y/N was proud of herself for keeping a tremble out of her voice, Juliana gesturing towards a vanity by one of the windows. 

“I can comb your hair, Miss, then leave you to get changed,” Juliana herded Y/N to the cushy stool, Y/N once again blinking at her unfamiliar expression. Contrary to the circumstances, her expression told the story of someone who got plenty of rest the night before. “I’ll wait by the stairs to show you to the breakfast room.”

That time, Y/N didn’t reply. She was too distracted by the feeling of the young maid gliding a fine comb through her hair gently– and with a sharp twist in her chest, she was reminded of the last time someone did her hair– Meredith, on the day of the Drawing. Holding her breath, she waited patiently for Juliana to comb through every snag on her head, surprised when she finally pulled away without braiding Y/N’s hair. Usually, Sanctuaries insisted that acolytes keep their hair braided if female, and cropped short if male. Juliana, however, left Y/N with her hair flowing free. 

“Alright, Miss, take your time getting dressed. I’ll wait for you by the staircase,” Juliana smiled sweetly at her through the mirror, setting the comb back onto the vanity before she took her leave. 

Y/N had a newfound feeling of determination when she absorbed her reflection, suddenly. She was going to get as much detail about the characters of the vampires from members of the staff as she could before the seven of them returned to the mansion. Swiftly, she pawed through various drawers for clothes, stomping to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Tugging on fleece-lined leggings, she cursed at herself in the mirror when it took her several minutes to figure out how to hook a brassier around her bust. The top she selected was a large slouchy sweater, one that hid her figure and hung loosely around her thighs. It made her feel a bit more protected, not having so much skin exposed. There weren’t any shoes in her closet, so she awkwardly stuffed her feet into her Mary Janes from the Sanctuary. 

With a huff, she headed to the hallway, the mansion looking completely different during the day. Early winter sunlight flooded into the building, making the colors of the interior appear vibrant and excessive. Able to retrace her steps from the previous evening, Y/N didn’t have any trouble meeting Juliana at the top of the grand staircase. 

“Right this way, Miss,” Juliana started down the stairs, Y/N glancing at the portrait of Taehyung on the wall. She hadn’t noticed before, but while he certainly seemed cold, there was a sort of melancholy look on his face. 

“Juliana, did um… Master Yoongi paint that portrait?” Y/N launched into her interrogations, the maid cocking her head to look at the painting Y/N was referring to. Y/N had to fight the urge not to cringe when using the ‘master’ title. 

“Hmm. I never thought about that! Master Yoongi is mostly known for his work from the Renaissance. Now that you bring it up, however, the attention to detail does look quite a lot like Master Yoongi’s handiwork,” Juliana continued down the stairs, Y/N grasping onto the banister for stability. If Yoongi’s famous artwork was from the Renaissance period, he’d have to be over 500 years old. “Do you like to read, Miss? The library is full of rare books. Master Hoseok has collected them from around the world for hundreds of years. Nadia can show you the way after your breakfast.”

“Oh–”

“Good morning, Miss Y/N, I hope you had a restful sleep,” Edmund was at the bottom of the staircase, interrupting Y/N’s response to Juliana. “Juliana, you’re needed in the laundry.”

“Yes, sir,” Juliana straightened up importantly, bowing at Y/N again. “Have a nice breakfast, Miss.”

Edmund stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching Juliana hurry away out of earshot. The polite smile sort of slipped from his face, attention turning back to Y/N shifting from foot to foot by the staircase. 

“Y/N, after your meal, I’d like to speak with you in the pantry. Have Nadia show you the way,” Edmund said quietly, gesturing to the left. Tightness in her chest increased when he said that, following him through the hall. 

There was what appeared to be a grotto under the staircase, water trickling from a fountain and a couple of seats facing the structure. Briefly, Y/N thought that that would be a wonderful spot to read. Led to a sage-green room, Y/N blushed furiously when Edmund pulled out a chair for her at the round table in the center of the room. There was only one fine porcelain plate set in front of her, along with silver cutlery and crystal glasses. 

“I’ll tell them to send out the food. Please enjoy,” Edmund announced, filling one of Y/N’s glasses with water from a metal pitcher. The butler was gone before she could ask him any questions, but moments later, at least ten staff members were filing into the room. 

Y/N’s eyes immediately bugged out of her head. A vat of creamy scrambled eggs, a platter of toast and pastries with jam and butter, plates of crispy bacon and breakfast potatoes, cinnamon-scented oatmeal, even a board with cheeses and bowls of every kind of fruit one could ever wish to try. Staff arranging everything meticulously, she could only blink as someone poured her a mug of coffee with cream and sugar left on the side, as well as a large glass of orange juice. 

“W-wait, this is… this is all for me?” Y/N hadn’t seen food like that well, ever. Everything looked gourmet and prepped with love and care. She wouldn’t be able to eat everything, but she was going to try her hardest. 

“Yes, Miss. The staff eats before the sun rises,” a young man answered her, setting down a plate stacked with waffles and a gravy boat of syrup. “Meals will be quite large like this until we figure out what your favorite foods are. I hope that’s alright.”

“O-of course,” Y/N felt herself flushing again, swallowing down a mouthful of saliva that was flooding her palate dangerously. “Thank y-you.”

“Enjoy. Call if you would like anything else.”

With that, the staff left her alone in the room, and Y/N didn’t know where to start. She compared the silence of the room to the loud chatter that she would listen to in the Sanctuary’s dining hall. Slowly, she sniffed the steaming coffee in front of her– she had never tasted it. Taking a small sip, she cringed at the bitterness, understanding at once why the bowl of sugar and fresh cream was left beside the mug. Not wanting to waste anything, she stirred cream and sugar into the mug until the drink tasted decent. With eager, shaky hands, Y/N stood with her plate and began to pile food onto it. 

Y/N worked herself around the table. Ignoring the feeling of gluttony, she tried every single thing that was left out for her, her plate stacked so high she snorted at herself when she sat back down. To her embarrassment, she moaned in pleasure when she swallowed her spoonful of eggs– buttery and topped with chives. Urgently, she nibbled on a strip of bacon, the meat hanging out of her mouth as she tore a croissant into pieces. Everything she put into her mouth was the most delicious thing in the world, and she felt like a ravenous bear trying to bulk up for the winter. 

She stopped eating only when her stomach felt it was going to burst, pushing a bowl of peaches and cream away with a grunt. Y/N did try everything, but it looked like she hadn’t even made a dent in the feast. Wiping her face with a fine cloth napkin, she clumsily got to her feet like a milk-drunk baby. Instantly, several staff members swept into the room when she stood to clear the table, Nadia’s familiar face appearing. 

“How was your breakfast, Miss?” 

“I’ve never had such delicious food,” Y/N admitted, absently trailing after her head maid through a door connected to the breakfast room, probably leading her to the pantry. “The chefs here must be very skilled.”

“Master Seokjin insists that we hire the finest chefs in the world. Though he is a vampire, he has culinary interests,” Nadia replied, Y/N finding it hard to walk with how stuffed she was. “Edmund told me you two were going to speak. He’s likely going to give you a formal tour and tell you a few things about the manor, day-to-day routines…”

Y/N turned that over in her mind. The look on Edmund’s face earlier had a sort of graveness to it, which she didn’t think matched up to explaining house rules. Y/N decided to keep her mouth shut, hoping at the very least she’d have her questions answered. Suddenly, they were in a room filled with dark wood shelves holding china and crystal stemware, and when Y/N looked up, there was a loft that held even more shelves and dishes. Edmund was by a table in the center of the room, taking notes. 

“Thank you Nadia. I know you had some errands to run, so I’ll show Miss Y/N around until the masters return,” Edmund looked up from his notepad, Nadia nodding once before turning on her heel to leave the room. 

“Alright, one moment, Miss Y/N…” Edmund said in a chipper tone, moving around the room to shut the doors quickly, which had Y/N suddenly growing nervous– was he trying to soundproof the room, keep the conversation quiet?

“Oh, dear. You do not have to be frightened of me,” Edmund put his hands up when Y/N began to cower in the corner of the room. “I want to offer you information before the vampires return.”

“R-really?” Y/N released the breath she was holding, timidly getting closer to the table Edmund had returned to. He had a grandfatherly look about him, kind and warm. It was not lost on Y/N that he didn’t refer to the vampires as masters.

“It was lucky that they were called away yesterday. I fear you wouldn’t have been prepared had they been here. Now, listen; this is very important. Most of the staff treats the coven like gods. I am the only one in this estate who you can talk about the coven negatively.”

Not a good start, Y/N thought, shivering. 

“Negatively, sir?”

“Child. Looks can be deceiving. I know you that in the hours you’ve been here already you have been treated gently. The coven will not follow suit. They are cruel, heartless creatures. You must do everything in your power to not upset any of them,” Edmund enunciated clearly, Y/N’s heart dropping in her chest. “The powers they possess are extremely dangerous. They do not have emotions like you or I.”

“The way Nadia talked about them… painted a different picture,” Y/N uttered desperately, Edmund looking out the window wistfully. 

“I’ve been with the coven for decades, while they lived in Europe. Nadia has only been around for five years, and she does not deal with the coven as I do. She has not seen what they’re capable of.”

“Are you telling me this because you feel bad for me?” Y/N suddenly became defensive despite her terror, hating when she was pitied in any circumstance. 

“No, child. I want to help you. I want to warn you, before they come back and they size you up,” Edmund shook his head, looking down at the notes he was taking earlier. “You are dealing with four vampires that are very old and disconnected to humanity. The younger three are wild and reckless. It's important to remember this.”

“How old…”

“I’ll tell you a bit about each of them specifically in a moment. My largest piece of advice to you is never directly show the coven you’re afraid of them. Of course, they’ll be able to scent it on you, but do not give away your fear verbally, or you will be backed into a dark corner and toyed with.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N breathed, then dreading the coven’s return to the estate. 

“You asked how old they are. I’ll start with the eldest, who is the most respected vampire in the coven– he has seniority, you see, due to his age and his status. Seokjin is 879 years old, and when he was human, he was a crown prince of a Korean monarch,” Edmund began, using a handkerchief to dab his dewy hairline. “He may appear very calm and unaffected, but he absolutely despises humans. He hardly tolerates the staff, and we know not to bother him unless necessary. Under no circumstance should you lie to him, ever. I’ve seen him kill many staff members and even associates over being deceived. One more thing about Seokjin… the ‘power’ he has. Vampires call it ‘Compulsion’. He has the ability to make telepathic suggestions to others in order to control their thoughts, even wipe memories. He can convince a man to jump to his own death, or forget his happiest memories.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. All of the questions that she had come up with before falling asleep completely fled from her mind, and all she could do was grip onto the wooden table with slick palms. Over 800 years old– Seokjin was ancient, otherworldly, and sounded like a monster. 

“On the other hand, the youngest in the coven, Jeongguk– just 124 years old. He has the gift of Telepathy, so you must learn to control your thoughts around him. If somehow, Seokjin is unable to find out you lied to him, Jeongguk can tear through your thoughts and report it back to him,” Edmund continued, tapping his notepad with his pen. “Quite a few in the coven have much experience with violence. Jeongguk, when he was human, was a bodyguard to Al Capone. When he was turned, he was not only a bodyguard, but he read the minds of enemy gangs to relay back to Capone. He’s strong and lacks empathy, so he kills without mercy.”

“How… will I be able to control my thoughts? He’ll know I’m terrified, he’ll…”

“I can teach you, when they’re away on business. It is difficult, but can be done. Child, let me finish telling you what I know before they’re due back.”

Y/N clammed up, growing more petrified by the second by each word that came out of the butler’s mouth. By the time he had run through the basic personalities of each of the vampires, Y/N had a cloth soaked in cold water pressed to her forehead. For lack of a better word, she was fucked. 

“I’m sorry to tell you all of this,” Edmund said quietly when he was finished, regret flashing over his face. “Just know, you have someone here who is on your side. I’ll do everything I can to protect you from their wrath, or at least train you to handle it. Fortunately, you’re needed by them– while they may be cruel to you, they need you alive in order to sustain themselves.”

“Spectacular,” Y/N wheezed, wishing she didn’t eat so much breakfast. She didn’t want it to make a second appearance. “To think I was going to press you for information. I don’t know if I was better off in the dark or not.”

“Certainly not. You know what to expect this afternoon, somewhat. Keep your guard up, and try to keep your fear in check, and the introduction can go smoothly,” Edmund insisted. “Perhaps… while you wait for their return, you can peruse the library, as Juliana suggested.”

Edmund began to open the doors again, and Y/N understood that meant their conversation was as good as over. 

“Edmund?”

“Yes, child?’

“Won’t they know that you warned me about them? Will you be punished?”

“Don’t worry about me, child. The coven knows how I feel about them, it’s earned me a teaspoon of respect. Besides, no other butler in the world wishes to work for them. Rumors of their behavior, you see,” Edmund placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, smiling faintly. “Come. I’ll give you a brief tour and then escort you to the library.” 

About fifteen minutes later, Y/N was left by herself in the dark, intricate library. Hardly giving the alleged ‘rare’ books collected by Hoseok a glance, she sank down into a chair by the fireplace, staring into the flames blindly. Curiosity killed the cat, and Y/N hardly knew what to do. Every single one of the vampires were murderous, unfeeling monsters with horrifying powers. Powers they’d likely be using on her any moment. 

Y/N didn’t know who she was afraid of the most. Seokjin sounded menacing, Jeongguk dangerous and immoral. The others, she didn’t even know where to start sorting out what she learned. There was Hoseok, Y/N’s eyes shifting to the weathered books on the shelves, who was once a pirate over four hundred years ago, and had the ability to ‘Track’ people by scent. Edmund told her that Hoseok could find anybody without fail and even predict their future moves. He was greedy, fond of drinking, and impulsive. 

She wondered if it was Namjoon she was most afraid of. His power was definitely the worst one: with eye contact and focus, he could inflict pain on others compared to being burned alive, a power called Pain Illusion. Apparently, he was once a Korean military general roughly four hundred years prior, and once turned, he became a sword-for-hire. Edmund told her that he enjoyed the kill, enjoyed watching others suffer, and was second to Seokjin as far as the hierarchy of the coven. Like the elder vampire, Namjoon had a disdain for humanity. Edmund told her to be especially careful around Namjoon, as he was a known sadist. 

Head in her hands, she groaned. Yeah, Namjoon definitely was the scariest. The other three were no daisies, either, but the thought of having to experience what Namjoon’s Pain Illusion felt like was enough to have her heart racing. 

Apparently Taehyung is the most deceiving of the bunch. He had all of the etiquette of a Gilded Age businessman, but Edmund relayed that he was absolutely ruthless when it came to his affairs and could Glamour his appearance. Jimin, a famed playwright of romantic tragedies the same years Jane Austen was active, was notoriously manipulative, hedonistic, and a feared Hypnotist. Finally, the artist, Yoongi– apparently studied under an artist named Leonardo da Vinci, and was secretly known for using his power of Paralysis on his models so he could paint them for hours without interruption. 

That tacky sort of nervous sweat began to roll down the notches of Y/N’s spine. None of the vampires sounded friendly at all. Y/N knew that it would be wishful thinking to expect all of them to be somewhat tame, but she had hoped for at least one that wouldn’t be insane or murderous. Hugging her knees to her chest, Y/N counted her breaths to calm down. Heeding Edmund’s initial advice would be wise; trying to keep her thoughts bland, maintaining aloof confidence. Not bursting into tears, or trying to hide behind Nadia’s skirts. 

Chin resting on her knees, Y/N closed her eyes. She wondered what Meredith and Joseph were up to. In the mornings after breakfast, typically they'd have study and silent prayer in the chapel. Y/N considered herself to be somewhat of an atheist, so usually she’d daydream while on her knees, eyes glazed over. Meredith would let Y/N lean her shoulder on hers, and Joseph would make sure she wouldn’t fall asleep and get punished. Sadness filled her at the thought of her memories. It was likely she’d never get to see Meredith or Joseph ever again. Too busy wallowing, Y/N jolted in her seat when Nadia appeared in front of her, repeating her name several times. 

“Miss, the masters have returned. We must greet them outside,” Nadia offered Y/N a thick winter jacket, Y/N audibly gulping. She’d run out of time. 

Heart thundering in her chest, Y/N shrugged into the maroon felt coat, shuffling after Nadia with resignation. It was like the a monarch was coming, countless members of staff hurriedly heading to the front entrance or flying up the stairs with various linens. Deciding to think of only her friends, Y/N replayed scenes of the two of her closest kin harvesting vegetables in the gardens during the summer months. Reading with Meredith by candlelight in dramatic voices. Horsing around with Joseph in the hallways when they were supposed to be dusting statues. 

Outside, the grounds were clearer to her in the daylight. In the spring, the landscaping was probably breathtaking. Quietly, she stood between Edmund– the head butler, and Nadia– the former giving nothing away regarding their private discussion surrounding the coven. Holding her breath, Y/N watched the large iron gates swing open, the purr of car engines filling the quiet street. 

Biting back a surprised noise, Y/N supposed she shouldn’t have been stunned to see a line of luxury cars pulling into the drive. The first in line was a sleek, vibrant-blue colored sports car, followed by a cushy looking black sedan, two black SUVs, and two more small sports cars– one in cherry red and the other canary yellow. 

No one said a word. Y/N counted the vehicles again– there were only six. Again, she was thinking about the excess of wealth. Would it kill them to share cars? Bouncing on the balls of her feet, the blue sports car’s doors opened first– upward, like a spaceship. In succession, the rest of the roaring engines cut off and Y/N stared blankly at the carport’s carved stone ceiling to put off matching names to faces. She hadn’t even considered how old they looked physically, were they middle aged– Christ forbid, were they teenagers? 

“Master Seokjin. I trust everything went well?” Edmund bowed deeply, Y/N urgently copying the movement when the butler glanced at her from the corner of his eye. 

“Who’s this little girl?” Seokjin ignored Edmund’s question, Y/N’s eyes on the highly polished loafers that were just in front of her. 

Y/N finally straightened up to take a look at the vampire in front of her, and all of the oxygen was sucked out of her lungs when the most beautiful face she had ever seen was studying her right back. He appeared to physically be in his early thirties, but the faraway look in his eyes gave away his true ancient age.

Tall, broad, and dressed in an expensive looking suit, the dark-haired vampire had his full mouth twisted into disapproval. With his short, choppy bangs, they gave a perfect view to sculpted eyebrows, a pallor to his flawless skin, and of course, the red eyes narrowing while he waited for an answer. Y/N felt like she had to look away, so her eyes slid from Seokjin’s statuesque face to the second figure disembarking from the blue sports car, the passenger. 

“This is Acolyte Y/N, from the local Sanctuary. The AB- donor. She arrived last night,” Edmund bowed again, this time at the second vampire storming up the steps to the front door.

“Take this upstairs, Nadia,” the second vampire, again, an exceedingly gorgeous man, barked. While his voice was rich and smooth like silk, he curled his nose up in a snarl when he spotted Y/N beside her head maid. 

“Yes, Master Namjoon,” Nadia grunted when a briefcase was shoved into her chest, Namjoon scoffing once at Y/N before disappearing into the mansion. Three things Y/N noticed about him: the skinny Asian-style sword strapped to his massive back, the thick leather gloves on his hands, and the air of total hatred coming off of him in waves. 

“Didn’t think she’d be such a… scrap of a thing,” Seokjin sounded bored, almost disappointed she wouldn’t put up a strong fight. 

“The Sanctuary diets aren’t particularly nutritious. She’ll gain more muscle and mass after a few weeks with our great chefs,” Edmund reassured the eldest vampire, whom Y/N wished would stop staring at her and simply go inside. 

“Make sure she’s present for dinner,” Seokjin drawled, lifting an eyebrow at Y/N. Was… she for dinner? “I have calls to make. Tell the chefs twelve courses tonight, rich food. The little girl needs more meat on her bones to be of actual use.”

With that, Seokjin brushed past the butler, Y/N’s head already spinning. Next thing she knew, there were three more vampires stalking towards her and Edmund, Y/N wondering which one was the one that could read her uneasy thoughts. 

“Oh? A little dove!” A borderline childish voice is what caught her attention first, wicked delight coloring his tone. 

If his eyes weren’t so frightening, the grin stretching across the vampire’s face could have been on the cover of a magazine. He flicked his overgrown black bangs out of his face, biting down on his plump lower lip with a sharpened fang. Contrary to the chilly weather, all he wore was a loosely buttoned, thin white shirt, revealing a large strip of his pale bare chest. 

“Jimin, don’t get carried away like last time. You’re always breaking your toys,” One of the others, leaning against a stone column, picked his nails while tsking. That particular vampire wouldn’t even spare her a glance, his wavy dark hair curtaining his face. While his body was lean, hands were extremely weathered compared to the rest of his smooth, pushing-30-years-old complexion. 

Knees wobbling from that remark, the third vampire, who was eyeing every inch of her thoughtfully, noticed the movement with a slight smirk and a narrowing of his feline-like eyes. 

“Aw, that wasn’t my fault, Hoseok. Don’t listen to him, little dove! We’re going to have fun together,” Jimin, evidently, pouted, but the effect didn’t soothe her when she saw a psychotic glint reflected in his irises. “Ugh, I hate traveling. I hope there’s wine in my room…” 

Jimin winked at her as he slunk inside. Rolling his eyes, Hoseok, the most casually dressed so far in a simple dark turtleneck, trailed after, Y/N noticing how sharply cut his jawline was and the geometrically perfect way his nose turned up into the air. 

“Master Yoongi, is there anything I can get for you before you resume painting?” Edmund cleared his throat, the long-haired vampire finally stopped smirking at Y/N, shaking his head silently. As soon as Yoongi stopped looking at her, she felt like she could breathe again, her fingertips twitching. “We’ve purchased fresh oil paints, as per your request.”

Wordessly, Yoongi was in her presence at once, and the next, with a blur, he was gone. 

“Vampiric speed,” Edmund murmured, Y/N swallowing thickly. She had forgotten that not only did they have individual powers, but they had strength and speed, as well. Only two more to go– Taehyung and the mind reader, Jeongguk. “You’re doing well.”

The driver of the second car that had pulled into the driveway, the black sedan, finally cut the engine. The second SUV, the first of which belonged to Hoseok, had long since been turned off but no one emerged from it. 

“Master Taehyung typically likes to take a walk around the grounds after returning from business. Here, however, is Master Jeongguk,” Edmund schooled his features, him and Y/N robotically bowing at the final vampire she was to greet. The mind reader. 

“Hello,” Y/N blurted impulsively, much to her chagrin. The youngest vampire appeared to be around her age, perhaps a year or two older, and besides his ghostly complexion and red eyes, Jeongguk looked remarkably like a human man– perhaps like Joseph, but far more muscular. 

“Edmund, I’m assuming this human is the AB- acolyte?” Jeongguk completely ignored Y/N, which had humiliation pulsing through her body painfully. “Let’s see, you. Look at me.”

Y/N froze, Jeongguk stooping to make his face completely level with Y/N’s. Suddenly, the grip she thought she had on her thoughts melted away into nothing, and she got lost in the doelike quality of the youngest vampire’s eyes. 

“Typical, Edmund. Warning her about us? All you did was terrify her,” Jeongguk murmured, his youthful voice but a coo. Y/N knew not to trust it, especially when his chilled index finger jabbed into her cheek. “Who’s Joseph, AB-? A lover from the Sanctuary?”

Y/N’s tongue turned to stone in her mouth. Like his covenmates, Jeongguk was extremely handsome, but taunted her coldly. Luckily, she had motor function, shaking her head in the slightest. Tongue probing into the meat of his cheek, Jeongguk stood to his full height, the dark brown trench coat he was wearing hiding just how truly large he was. 

“You’re fortunate you’re the only butler available to us. Your head would be on a pike, if it were up to me,” Jeongguk, in a mild tone, addressed Edmund, who simply looked at the vampire placidly. 

“Yes, sir,” Edmund took a leather bag from the vampire, Y/N unable to believe how easy it was for Jeongguk to enter her mind– her memories pulled from her mind to his in hazy flashes that had her skull throbbing. 

“Y/N,” she flinched when Jeongguk addressed her by name, whipping her head around to watch him stalk up the stairs behind her, wearing a murderous smirk. “Wear something pretty to dinner, alright?”

Acid began to crawl up her throat, and when Jeongguk disappeared in almost a mist, Edmund placed a grandfatherly-like hand on her upper arm. 

“Relax now, Y/N. You did well. Very well. You won’t see any of them until dinner. Returning to your bedroom for now would be wise, Nadia will help prepare you for the meal,” Edmund whispered, gripping Jeongguk’s bag in one of his hands. “Head in, child. You’ve been in the cold long enough. Soak up the warmth, while you can.”

It was a miracle that Y/N didn’t make deep dents in the carpet of her bedroom as she paced back and forth. Escorted to her room after meeting six out of the seven vampires, Y/N was left to her own devices that afternoon. Nadia had left her a stack of books to entertain herself before dinner, Y/N thinking that she’d rather swallow shattered glass than sit at a table with the monsters. 

Halting, Y/N stood in front of one of the windows, hands coming up to brace herself on the windowsill. The ocean was choppy thanks to a biting wind blowing in from the North, the color of it almost black. Was it too late for her to jump off of the cliff? If she made a run for it, would anyone catch her before she could fall to her merciful death?

Eyes glazed over, her fingernails dug into the flesh of her palms. Suddenly and inexplicably, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, like a cold draft of air swept through the room. Ears picking up movement, Y/N spun around, a startled yelp coming from her mouth at the sight of the figure at her door. One of the vampires actually sought her out, lazily trailing his crimson eyes up and down her form. Tripping backwards, Y/N’s back was pressed into the icy windowpane. The vampire boldly stepping into the light, Y/N realized who it was before he even opened his mouth.

“Be careful, little dove. It would be a shame if you fell through the glass and cracked that skull of yours open before we even had a chance to play,” Jimin teased, though the taunt was far from an innocent jest. 

“W-wha–”

“I said, careful. Think about how to speak to me before you stutter out something disrespectful,” Jimin sneered, crossing the room in a split second. Flinching, his face was mere inches from hers, his skin so pale it was almost translucent. His eyes, while certainly red, were sort of a dulled tone, and there was nothing good-natured about his expression at all. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, voice cracking. Jimin seemed to accept the apology, tsking and backing up a degree. Y/N forced herself to remain calm, the vampire pushing up the sleeves to his blouse. His chest was even more exposed than it was before, his muscles seemingly carved from white marble.

“That’s better, dove,” Jimin hummed, falsely sweet. “You can’t wear those rags to dinner. Juliana!”

Jimin’s voice was sing-songy, the vampire putting his hands on his hips and tapping his foot impatiently. Swallowing with great unease, Y/N’s palms were slick as she held onto the windowsill. Then, the sound of hurried footsteps flooded into the room, Y/N’s fright easing a degree when Juliana and several other maids joined her and the vampire in the bedroom. At once, Y/N’s eyes went owlishly wide, each of the maids carrying brightly colored gowns, stacks of velvet boxes, and more pairs of shoes than she could count. 

“The latest fashions… Chanel and Dior, Cartier jewelry. Fashion design has come a long way these last few centuries– not bad for a bunch of humans,” Jimin seemed like he was talking to himself, plucking a heavy looking necklace up from the open case Juliana was holding. Y/N still couldn’t get over the childlike lilt to his voice, paired with the unsettling confidence he carried, cautiously returning eye-contact when he sauntered towards her. 

“Dressing your new doll, Jimin?” Hoseok appeared in the doorway, Jimin still entirely focused on getting Y/N pinned to the window. The older vampire had a bottle of liquor in his grasp, an amused smirk on his face. Y/N felt ill. 

“Rubies suit her, don’t you think, Hoseok?” Jimin bit down on his lip with a fang, like he did earlier. Then, his voice took on a silky tone, an index finger curling in her direction. “Come here, dove.”

Y/N didn’t want to comply, but after nearly a heartbeat, everything in her body was telling her that it was okay, more than okay, to get close to Jimin. She wanted to, needed him, it felt like she could hardly breathe. In a darkened corner of her mind, Y/N’s rational self realized Jimin was using Hypnosis on her, and there was nothing she could do to resist his his call. Moving on autopilot, Y/N almost stumbled over her feet to close the distance between herself and the vampire. 

With a satisfied, wicked grin, Jimin tilted his head, looking down at her through his dark lashes. Spellbound by his presence– how had Y/N gone her entire life without him? Unprompted, she gathered her hair up and held it over her shoulder, exposing her bare neck to the vampire. Excitement flashed through her when Jimin licked his lips, and when his chilly fingers traced along a fluttering vein by the base of her throat, Y/N squirmed in delight. So removed from herself, as if in a trance, she obediently stayed still as Jimin clasped the necklace around her throat. Past the haze, she could hear an amused snort coming from Hoseok watching by the doorframe. 

“Isn’t that nice?” Jimin hummed, adjusting the jewelry so it sat perfectly on her clavicle. Boldly, he tugged at the neckline of her sweater, exposing more of her skin, the strength in his touch stretching out the flimsy wool with ease. 

“Very obedient, pet. Juliana, get her ready for dinner,” Hoseok snarked, taking a swig from his liquor. 

Slowly, like roots of a tree pulling up from the earth, the influence Jimin had over her mind and body untangled from her being with a deep ache. Different from the throbbing, disorienting pain that filled her brain when Jeongguk infiltrated her thoughts, Jimin’s affect gripped her entire being as if her bone marrow was bruising. With a whimper, Y/N staggered to the side, Juliana promptly righting her by one of her arms. Jimin had used his vampiric speed to join Hoseok at the door, winking at Y/N trying to catch her breath. 

“Here, Katie. Make the human a pre-dinner cocktail. She looks like she’s going to suffer from a paranoid break. I abhor hysterics,” Hoseok loudly placed his glass bottle of booze on one of Y/N’s nightstands, addressing an older woman who was holding several silky dresses in her arms. 

With that, the two vampires shut the door behind themselves, the sounds of their expensive shoes marching down the hallway, leaving Y/N to figure out what just happened. The necklace around her throat felt like a ten-pound weight, and if the room wasn’t full of maids who acted like nothing happened, she would have ripped it off and pelted it at the bedroom door. Noise buzzing around her, rustling of skirts, the only thing that kept her on her feet was Juliana’s arm slung around her lower back. 

“Alright, Miss, let’s get started on your bath,” Juliana said airily, Y/N feeling a single tear slip down her cheek, which she hurriedly swept away with her sweater sleeve before anyone caught it. “I have the most lovely hairstyle in mind for you. Master Jimin seemed to like that necklace on you, so we’ll pick something red to go with it.”

Y/N was astonished. Juliana was in the room when that whole interaction happened, was she not? Did she not see how Jimin hypnotized her, and was she not disturbed by it? Perhaps it was something only Y/N and the two vampires could sense happening, but Y/N had never felt more vulnerable and alone. Hollowly, she let Juliana herd her into the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat, she wasn’t fully listening to the maid, tracing her fingers over the polished stones around her neck. 

“The chefs have been working so hard today on the meal, it’s going to be wonderful, Miss Y/N! I helped the executive chef select ingredients at the finest market in town,” Juliana tested the water coming from the bathtub’s tap, pouring various vials into the water. “I picked up some moisturizing rose oils, bubbles, and powdered milk for the bath. I even managed to find dried flowers, which is rare for this time of year. Come, I’ll wash your hair for you.”

“H-huh?” Y/N squeaked, not wanting to strip her clothes off in front of somebody else. 

“It’s quite alright, Miss. We’re your personal maids, there is no reason to be bashful,” Juliana insisted, keeping her eyes low, but helping Y/N to her feet. Too afraid to protest, Y/N stood statue-still as the maid carefully removed the necklace Jimin put on her and handed it off to another nameless maid. “Have you ever heard of a spa day? Think of it as that!”

“Spa day?” Y/N repeated stupidly, blushing furiously when she was left in just her brassier and the scrap they called underwear. Juliana turned, allowing Y/N to remove her undergarments and get into the mass of perfumed bubbles piling up in the tub. “Never heard of that… is that a holiday?”

“No, Miss,” Juliana giggled, her cheeks pink with merriment. “You’ll just enjoy some beauty treatments. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to do things like this, so you’ll have to forgive us if we go overboard with spoiling you.”

Dumbfounded was the only word for how Y/N felt. At that point, she was going to get whiplash from being treated like a princess by the staff at one moment, and like a toy by the vampires the next. Bitterly, Y/N came up with the hypothesis that the reasons she was getting ‘spoiled’ was either out of pity, or that the vampires wanted their toy shiny and flawless. Katie, the older maid from before, appeared with a crystal glass filled with some kind of bubbling liquid, a slice of a blood-red orange floating amongst real ice cubes.

“As per Master Hoseok’s request, Miss. It’s a blood orange rum sour, his favorite,” Katie slightly bowed, a wisp of gray hair falling from her low bun. Alarm bells went off in Y/N’s head. 

“Blood?” 

“It simply refers to the color and variety of the citrus, dear. Not actual blood,” Katie’s mouth twitched, like she was trying not to laugh. Y/N took a sniff of the drink, recoiling slightly at the burn in her nostrils. She knew it was alcohol– something she never tried before. 

“Alcohol isn’t allowed at the Sanctuary. They tell us it’s bad for acolytes,” Y/N felt like a lamb going up for slaughter, unsure and anxious. Warm water was being poured down her back from a cup, where Juliana was slowly soaking the strands of her hair to wash, and it made her shiver. 

“Well, dear, you’re here now. You may drink as much as you or the Masters deem suitable,” Katie bowed again, whisking away back into Y/N’s bedroom to select her dinner outfit. 

If she knew anything about alcohol, it was that it had the ability to steel one’s nerves. Which was something she desperately needed- so bravely, her eyes fluttered shut and she took a hearty swig of the cocktail. The first thing that washed over her palate was bright, juicy citrus, but when she swallowed, the burn of alcohol made the contents of her stomach sting. Grimacing, she willed herself to drain the glass, wondering when she’d feel the effects. Gut boiling, she kept her eyes shut as Juliana worked shampoo into her hair. 

“You have such pretty hair, Miss Y/N,” Juliana complimented, Y/N’s cheeks hot– not just from the compliment. A haze, a pleasant one, had her humming. Was it the way Juliana was massaging her temples, or was it the booze flooding through her system? “Anything else we can get you? Another drink?”

“Okay?” Y/N replied, just a tad bit more comfortable with asking for things. Juliana called out for Katie while she rinsed Y/N’s hair, the warm water making her sigh. 

And when she had another drink in her hand, Juliana wrapping a hot towel around her conditioned hair and a third nameless maid using a sandy scrub to slough off flakiness from her years-neglected skin, Y/N started to feel giddy. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad– being pampered sure was nice, and Y/N had always been strong-willed. Edmund was right, earlier; the vampires needed her alive, so they wouldn’t dare kill her. To Y/N’s knowledge, there wasn’t another human in the nearest Sanctuaries with blood as rare as hers. 

It was like she could feel her backbone growing, only peeling one of her eyes open when something odd was gliding up her legs. Cocking her eyebrow curiously, she watched the third maid– Mei– use a razor to shave downy hair from her legs. Strange. 

When she was sufficiently scrubbed, shaved, and presented with oil and lotion to apply, Y/N was left in the bathroom to dry off and slide into a terry cloth robe. Wobbling a little when she got out of the tub, Y/N giggled as she slathered herself with a floral scented lotion, her legs foreignly baby-soft. The cocktails were certainly doing their job, Y/N pinching her cheeks in the mirror and fixing a determined look on her face.

She was always the brave one amongst herself, Meredith, and Joseph. Why should she dissolve into a puddle of helplessness and meek responses? Even though she was being made over into a perfect angel for a group of demons, she held significant power. She didn’t need the coven to survive, but they did. 

With renewed courage, Y/N returned to her bedroom. That time, only Nadia and Juliana remained, both of them waiting for her by the old vanity that was littered with appliances, jewelry, and cosmetics. The sun was starting to set, making the sky a burnt orange over the silver ocean.

“How’re you feeling?” Nadia smiled at her through the mirror when Y/N sunk down onto the stool, Y/N returning the expression. She thought that might have been the first time she smiled in the previous 24 hours. 

“Relaxed,” Y/N answered honestly, sitting still while Nadia worked a silky product through her hair. Juliana, however, began selecting various powders and tubes and comparing them to Y/N’s complexion with a concentrated pout. 

“Fantastic! I’m pleased to hear,” Nadia seemed to glow, like it was her life’s duty to pamper and please Y/N. 

Lapsing into silence, Y/N stared at her reflection while Juliana began to dust her face with powder, and Nadia fired up a device that seemed to dry her hair. Buzzed, she watched the two maids make her up into a princess that Y/N used to read about with Meredith, her unruly hair manipulated into a pretty style, shimmering ruby gloss being painted across her lips. 

Once the ‘hair dryer’ was switched off, Y/N dared to ask a question that popped into her mind when she got to the bottom of her second cocktail in the bath. Rolling back her shoulders, she got Nadia’s attention while she was sliding a sparkly hair clip into Y/N’s hair. When the query left her lips, both of her maids' expressions went from merry to grim– which wasn’t encouraging.

“Nadia, what happened to the coven’s previous donor?” 

“Where is the human sitting?” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, a dull ache all over his body. It had been too long since he had fed on human blood, and his immortal body was feeling the deprivation. “Might I suggest… not next to Jimin?”

“Why, do you want that little girl at your side instead?” Seokjin hardly looked up from the documents he was signing, already seated at the head of the dining room table. “You’re not the greedy type, Yoongi. Leave that to Hoseok.”

Yoongi curled up his lip into a snarl, but would not offer a retort to the elder vampire. Really, the only one who had the balls and Seokjin’s grace to allow challenging was Namjoon. With a sigh, Yoongi took his usual seat, his fangs aching. Since they returned to the estate, the scent of AB- blood intensified Yoongi’s longing to have a taste of that sample the coven received earlier in the week. Idly, he traced the veins on the back of his hand– usually pale blue, but with the lack of blood flowing through his system, they were nearly dark gray. 

“Which documents are those?”

“From the UN. They want us to sit in on an Assembly in December,” Seokjin sounded terribly bored, mostly because he was to death. Another human war he’d have to offer expertise on, expertise that would probably be ignored. After all, Seokjin and his covenmates were really only invited out of fear. 

“What a pain in the ass,” Hoseok arrived at the table, collapsing onto the seat beside Yoongi. Kicking his feet up on the polished table, narrowly missing the china that was set there, Seokjin’s pen-scratching stopped. “I hate New York City. Filthy place. Should have burned it down when I still had my ship.”

“Was New York even established when you still had a ship, Captain Morgan?” Seokjin snarked, staring once pointedly at the bottle of rum in Hoseok’s hand, and then at his boots on the table. “Put your feet down, now.”

Hoseok rolled his rust-colored eyes but obeyed, knowing not to anger Seokjin unless he wanted Namjoon to use his ‘gift’ on him. Taking a swig of the rum, Hoseok frowned– the longer he went without human blood, the duller his taste buds got. He only tasted a flat note of cinnamon, not even the sting of the liquor. Hopefully, he’d get a taste of the mousy acolyte that night. 

Snapping his fingers sharply, a staff member appeared out of the shadows to take the signed documents from Seokjin. With mild annoyance, he checked his watch for the time; he told Nadia, the human’s maid, to have the girl at the dinner table at 8 PM sharp. Nadia still had ten minutes before her life was in danger. Seokjin couldn’t stand humans who couldn’t follow simple directions. 

“Is twelve courses really necessary? We’ll be here for hours,” Hoseok complained, mostly because he’d have to hear the chefs drone on and on about the ingredients of each dish and the beverage pairing that went with it. 

“You saw how pathetically frail that human was. If she is to serve us, she needs to gain weight,” Namjoon thundered into the room, his tread heavy and confident. He sat closest to Seokjin, on the left, his expression made of stone. Again, Hoseok rolled his eyes. 

“I agree. With just a few gulps, I could drain the little dove dry,” a melodious voice joined the conversation, Jimin giggling when he sunk into his chair just across from Namjoon. Annoyed with the buttons on his shirt, Jimin tugged the last one free, letting both sides of the garment hang loose. 

Namjoon set his jaw in warning, already bracing himself for how insufferable Jimin would become with the arrival of the girl. Namjoon thought it was beneath him to interact with humans unless necessary, while Jimin preferred to see just how far he could push them. Jimin simply grinned back at Namjoon, slow and seductive, a muscle pulsing in the elder vampire’s cheek. 

“Control yourself, Jimin. You’re on thin ice,” Seokjin leaned back in his chair, his voice airy and high. His voice had even forced Namjoon somewhat stiff. “Taehyung, have you contacted Berwind?”

The owner of the estate the coven currently called home made his entrance, still in his tweed suit from earlier. Taehyung looked exactly like he did in the portrait of himself hanging above the grand staircase. It’s like time, for Taehyung, stopped in 1869. 

“Wait, why?” Hoseok straightened up, with distaste on his face when Taehyung took the opposite head of the table– across from Seokjin. “That guy is a blowhard.”

“Well, the blowhard might be our newest partner for marine affairs. You want a new ship, do you not?” Taehyung pointed out blandly, rubbing the grayish veins over his temples. “We’re going to have to host a party soon. He won’t agree to anything unless we get a selection of acolytes and fine wine.”

“She has five more minutes…” Seokjin murmured to himself, secretly wishing Nadia would give him an excuse to blow off steam. “Where is Jeongguk?”

“Hyung,” Namjoon cleared his throat to get Seokjin’s attention, pointing to the door leading into the butler’s pantry. 

Jeongguk emerged, his hands shoved into his pockets as a very sheepish looking set of sous chefs followed him with silver trays. 

“I don’t know why they expected us to eat food when the lack of blood has stolen our sense of taste,” Jeongguk drawled, a chef shakily placing a cordial glass in front of Seokjin. 

It contained the remainder of the AB- sample, the acolyte’s blood. The glass was hardly on the table before Yoongi snatched it up, draining it in one go. Anything to relieve the ache. Even after five hundred years, Yoongi could never get used to the feeling of being starved. 

“So sorry, Masters,” one of the chefs bowed, Namjoon’s eyes narrowing. Normally, he would have broken a limb for the forgetfulness, but he didn’t have it in him that evening. “Hors d'oeuvres will be out momentarily.”

Jeongguk scoffed, glancing curiously when Seokjin started tutting as the youngest vampire began to take his usual spot beside Namjoon. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Leave a space between you and Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin ordered firmly. “The human will sit between you two, lest she decide to flee the table, you two will be able to restrain her swiftly.”

Jimin pouted, his lips stained with the blood he sipped from his cordial glass. Seokjin was about to get up to deal with Nadia failing to follow his order when every vampire in the room paused, clumsy footsteps hurrying in the direction of the dining room. Covered poorly by expensive perfume was the scent of unease, alcohol, and mortal vitality. 

“Cutting it close, Nadia,” Seokjin purred, the maid blushing as she ushered the young acolyte into the dining room. 

The girl, dressed in a velvet ruby cocktail dress, fidgeted with the short hem of the garment while gawking at the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Her racing pulse was audible and visible; veins fluttering at the base of her throat. 

“I apologize, Master Seokjin. I’m afraid Juliana and I got carried away with dressing Miss Y/N for dinner. It has been a while,” Nadia bowed, the human acolyte flinching when Jimin was abruptly at her side. “Please, enjoy dinner. I’ll take my leave, now.”

“Oh, our little dove! You’re in the Mugler dress, your maids chose so well…. Matches the rubies perfectly,” Jimin cooed while poking the choker around her neck, the rest of the vampires knowing that there was nothing sweet about Jimin’s approval. Jimin, despite the raised brow from Seokjin that was directed towards him, took up one of Y/N’s trembling hands, dragging her further into the room. 

“Thank you,” Y/N breathed, intimidated and sounding like she was far from flattered. Jimin delighted in the way her body completely locked up with his touch, her palm slick with perspiration. 

Stumbling in her heels, Y/N had no choice but to be escorted to the table by Jimin, her large eyes widening when she realized who she was to be seated between. Pulling out her chair like a perfect gentleman, Y/N snatched her hand back as soon as she tumbled onto the velvet cushion. Jimin didn’t seem to care, simply smirking, stalking back to his own place at the table. There was a pause, Y/N glancing around the room at both the fine decorations and the vampires, fingers still twitching at her dress hemline. It was likely she hadn’t worn something so revealing before. 

Y/N blinked when her sight landed on one of the heads of the table, the vampire in the portrait on the staircase staring back at her blankly. He looked precisely like he had in the painting, down to the light-colored suit. Sure, his face was a bit more drawn and he was much paler, but it was almost like he stepped out of the canvas like a realm-walker.

Nervously, she peeked to the left, where Namjoon was, the vampire taking a sip of a red liquid from a small glass, his leather gloves still on his large hands. He caught her gaze from the corner of his sharpened eyes, Y/N knowing at once what he was drinking– far too viscous to be wine, too red, it had to be blood. Whose blood it was, exactly, Y/N hoped she’d never know. 

“It’s yours, of course, remnants of the sample. Humans are so dim,” Jeongguk easily read her thoughts, not even having to put in effort to enter her mind. Even with the lack of effort, he could tell Y/N was uncomfortable with him probing around in her skull, the girl wincing and rubbing her forehead. 

“Do not sap her of energy yet, Jeongguk. She must eat so she can be useful,” Seokjin sighed, still tasting her on his tongue. Though she was malnourished, her blood was still the finest he had tasted in centuries. 

“What were they feeding you at that sanctimonious dump, pet?” Hoseok, still lazily slouching, drawled. Y/N hesitated, not knowing whether or not to reply, making Hoseok grow impatient. “Speak when spoken to. Articulate.”

“U-uh, um… organ meats, mostly. Lentils and kale,” Y/N squeaked, her complexion a touch green. 

“Poor little dove. How repulsive,” Jimin pouted, the expression teasing. 

Y/N opened her mouth, fidgeting in her seat, Taehyung watching her mortal movements with fascination– they could never quite sit still. Before she could speak again, squirming under the weight of seven ruby gazes, staff members dressed in suits and white gloves came from the butler’s pantry carrying dishes. One of the staff members was carrying a silver ice-bucket with a bottle of wine, Y/N eagerly waiting for more alcohol to take the edge off. Whatever she had earlier had long since worn off. 

“Good evening, Masters, Miss Y/N,” a man in a chef’s uniform began, standing beside Seokjin at the head of the table. “Tonight’s hors d'oeuvres is oysters rockefeller with Sambuca and garlic-buttered sautéed spinach, paired with Clos des Bouquinardieres Muscadet. Please enjoy.”

Jeongguk laughed when he read Y/N’s mind trying to wrap around unfamiliar words. Rubbing her forehead again, she stared at the odd thing placed in front of her. As someone poured wine for her– to her disappointment, only about an inch of liquid splashing into the glass– she was immensely curious about the seashell placed delicately on a tiny plate, containing something breaded within. 

“Never had seafood before?” Hoseok raised a dark eyebrow, ignoring the oyster and going straight for his wine. 

“This is seafood?” Y/N blurted, Jimin finding her innocence quite entertaining. She was like a young girl he’d write as his heroine in one of his tragedies. Hoseok, however, glared at Y/N’s failure to answer his question. “I’ve just had t-tuna before… M-master Hoseok.”

“Master! Look at that, the pet is already learning her place,” Hoseok’s laugh was boisterous, bouncing off of the great walls, a thin whimper leaving from the back of Y/N’s throat. Namjoon had heard whimpers like that millions of times: pure, involuntary fear. It made him smile behind the rim of his wine glass. 

“Enough. Eat,” Seokjin’s voice was a hiss, plucking up the small fork specifically for shellfish. “Yoongi. I want you to get in touch with some artists in Italy. We’ll invite them here when we host Berwind, you know how much he loves being in the company of talent.”

Yoongi chewed the oyster thoroughly, relieved that he could actually taste the flavor after just a small sip of the acolyte’s blood. All of the painters Yoongi once knew, the ones he actually wished could be present during a party, were long since dead and gone. He’d have to write to modern artists, who would be frothing at the mouth for an opportunity to meet Yoongi. What a bore. 

“I’ve seen Gianluca Traina, his work isn’t half-bad. I can reach out to him and Agostino Iacurci,” Yoongi leaned back, letting a staff member take his plate. His hands itched to paint, loathing that he’d have to sit through eleven more courses. In particular, as he watched the young human girl cautiously raise a fork to her mouth, he wanted to capture how she looked when she tasted a flavor brand-new to her. “They’re no Boticelli or Michelangelo, though.”

“Too bad your mentor wasn’t turned,” Namjoon spoke up, though Yoongi knew Namjoon really didn’t care one way or the other. 

“Da Vinci would have hated the modern age,” Yoongi muttered nonchalantly, Namjoon scoffing at the name-drop. Not that the human would have known who the artist was, Namjoon confirming that she had no idea who Leonardo da Vinci was when she peered at Yoongi vacantly, draining her wine glass with a shaky grip. 

Y/N felt the wine burning in her stomach, stuck between relieved that she was being ignored for the moment and filled with anticipation for the next time the attention would be on her. 

“Next we have the amuse-bouche. Pickled baby beets with herbed goat cheese, candied kumquats and basil chiffon. With it we have Sancerre.”

The chef reappeared, the next small plate and glass of wine placed before Y/N. The food, so far, were like works of art, and Y/N almost felt bad eating it. Especially when she thought about the bland, mushy pile of goo her fellow acolytes at the Sanctuary were picking at while she ate like a queen. 

Mercifully, all the vampires talked about for quite some time was the event they were planning for the following week, and they left Y/N alone. Her guard was not coming down any time soon, so she stayed quiet as a mouse through each course. 

Acorn squash soup garnished with pepitas, purple radish microgreens and sage oil with prosecco. Native lobster, roasted heritage carrots, carrot puree, buttermilk puree, spiced crumb and chardonnay. Kale and brussels sprout salad with maple-candied pecans, honeycrisp apples, pomegranate and lemon vinaigrette with sauvignon blanc. Ingredients, flavors, and textures Y/N never even dreamed of before. By the time she stuffed the last slice of apple from her salad into her mouth, Y/N was already feeling quite satiated, and the wine was dizzying up her head. Or perhaps it was Jeongguk still fishing though her mind. 

“Seven more courses, human. Don’t think you can leave this table before then,” Jeongguk reminded her mildly, her suspicions confirmed. Thankfully, she caught herself before she could grumble at him. 

“Tell me, little girl. Did you spend your entire life in that Sanctuary?” Seokjin asked, curious about how much she knew about vampires. That, and he was concerned about her purity; though judging by her innocence, he didn’t predict that to be too much of a problem. 

“No, Master Seokjin,” Y/N replied, apprehensive towards a round of questioning. 

“Elaborate.”

Swallowing, Y/N glanced down at the fish that was just delivered to her, stomach turning. She found it hard to look at any of the vampires for too long, but Seokjin’s face was so hauntingly beautiful, it hurt to look at. 

“I was brought to the Sanctuary ten years ago, when I was fifteen. I grew up on the outskirts of town and was raised by my grandmother. When she passed away, I drifted until I was caught by wardens who were testing human’s blood types on the street.”

“I’ve noticed those vans around town. Wardens drive them around looking for new acolytes,” Jeongguk remarked helpfully, when Hoseok looked distantly confused. 

“You have the rarest blood type in the world. How is it that you were not immediately sent to a Sanctuary upon your birth? It is the law,” Seokjin was frowning, extremely annoyed. Fifteen years of alluding a system set up so meticulously led him to believe she’d be wayward. 

“I was born off of the grid, not in a hospital. My grandmother faked my blood results later on, when we were visited by Sanctuary wardens,” Y/N spoke softly, too afraid to raise her voice. She didn’t like the sharpened edge to Seokjin’s tone. 

“I don’t understand how an elderly woman could have pulled that off,” Hoseok said, his mouth flattened into a line. “What happened to your parents, pet?”

Y/N flinched, reluctant to give up a vulnerability to the predators. She knew she wouldn’t be able to conceal her thoughts, however, with Jeongguk still prying into her head. With the fish cleared away, a roasted chicken was put in front of her– this time, with a glass of red wine. Before answering Hoseok, she sucked down the velvety liquid. 

“My mother died in childbirth, I never knew her. Apparently my father was just a fling, I didn’t know him, either. It was just me and grandma,” Y/N pushed a strand of pasta around on her plate, doodling shapes with the tip of her fork in the creamy sauce. 

“The little dove is an orphan. How tragic,” Jimin’s excitement was paramount. There was nothing he loved more than a heroine with an ill–fated past. Y/N was disturbed by the twinkle in his eyes, barely able to finish the rest of her chicken. 

“Um, it’s alright. You can’t really miss what you never knew,” Y/N spoke impulsively, like she was talking to Joseph or Meredith rather than seven vampires who were effectively perfect, lethal strangers. 

“Adorable,” Jimin gushed, licking his lips. Yoongi, beside Jimin, pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated with Jimin’s theatrics. It came naturally to Jimin, being a writer of dramas and screenplays, so Yoongi couldn’t actually fault him for it, but it was dreadful to withstand. 

Blood rushed to Y/N’s face, the three youngest vampires in the dining room becoming coiled and ready to pounce. Seokjin simply held up his hand disinterestedly, a silent order for the fledglings to get control of themselves.

“Oh! What’s this?” Y/N had become incredibly loosened up thanks to the seven various wines she tasted over the course of the evening, cocking her head at the small silver dish placed in front of her. 

“Miss, it’s a lime sorbet with mint to cleanse the palate before the second main course,” A staff member poured a bubbly wine into a skinny flute for her, presenting a miniature spoon for Y/N to use.

“Sor-bet…” Y/N repeated slowly, scooping up some of the treat, the iciness washing over her tongue bizarre and making her audibly exclaim. A frozen sweet wasn’t something she was able to have at the Sanctuary, and it brought a tear to her eye. 

“They brought out the Dom Perignon, what do they think, we have the Pope here?” Hoseok lifted his champagne flute to his face, watching the bubbles dance in the glass. 

“Is it expensive?” Y/N dared to ask, a distant part of her screaming to shut up. Hoseok’s expression darkened when she addressed him, so she instantly corrected herself. “Master Hoseok.”

“Taehyung will only drink expensive wines. That champagne you so hastily gulped down is the most expensive vintage wine that money can buy, pet,” Hoseok smirked, Y/N becoming embarrassed that she did, in fact, knock the drink back.

“You paint me as a snob,” Taehyung frowned, earning a dry chuckle from Jeongguk. 

“Take a look around this place, for Christ’s sake. Of course you’re a snob,” Jeongguk remarked, gesturing around the lavish dining room they were seated in.

Y/N was positively stuffed. In fact, she clasped a hand over her mouth when a rack of lamb and rice replaced her empty sorbet dish, not wanting to eat another bite. She felt if she did, the velvet dress she was in would rip open. 

“You will eat it all,” Seokjin barked when Y/N made no motion to pick up her fork, the sound making her flinch into Namjoon’s thick shoulder. The vampire stiffened, a disgusted look on his face, Y/N’s skin flashing with heat. “You will eat it, or I’ll allow Jimin to go over there and force-feed you.”

That threat terrified Y/N, Jimin’s grin widening when she caught his eye. Without another second spared, Y/N began cutting through the meat, much to Jimin’s disappointment. With a bereft sigh, Jimin leaned on his elbows, craving some trouble he could stir up. 

Diligently, Y/N picked her way through the final courses, nearly gagging on the rich chocolate truffles that ended the meal. She was laughed at again– that time by Hoseok, when she asked if she could really eat the ‘gold leaf’ dusted on top of the dessert. The final drink that was offered was an espresso ‘martini’, which is what careened Y/N out of tipsiness and straight into dizzy intoxication. Giggling for no particular reason, Y/N started folding her napkin into different shapes, forgetting who her company was. 

“She’s a pretty little dove, isn’t she?” Jimin held his face in his hands, ravenous even though he had plenty of human food in his stomach. 

“Those words are familiar,” Jeongguk deadpanned, Yoongi spotting where things were going a mile away. 

“I bet she’d look pretty all drained, too. Like the last girl,” Jimin’s voice was dreamy, and it was fortunate that Y/N was too distracted by her cocktail to pick up on what he was going on about. 

“Watch it,” Jeongguk warned, not wanting to end the evening with Jimin’s dramatics.

“Oh, come now, Jeongguk… don’t you want to pin her down, fangs in her throat?” Venom flooded into Jimin’s mouth, watching Y/N’s pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. “We could always find another, too, after we drain her. You take a wrist, I’ll–”

“Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin interrupted quietly, looking up towards the chandelier. The whole table went silent, Jimin’s mouth slamming shut, regret all over his sculpted face. With a grunt, Namjoon stood from his seat, slowly stalking around the table. 

Y/N’s attention towards the vampires was recaptured when she noticed Namjoon, eyes dark and determined, approaching Jimin. The silence deafening, Y/N watched curiously when Namjoon bent low, face close to Jimin’s. Even Y/N could sense Jimin’s fear, and it made her instantly nauseous. 

Namjoon gripped Jimin’s sculpted jaw, his gloved hands rough against Jimin’s skin, and for a moment, Y/N thought Namjoon was going to kiss the younger vampire. Narrowing his eyes, Namjoon squeezed Jimin’s jaw, Jimin going absolutely rigid when they made eye contact, the martini glass Jimin was holding shattering in his grasp. Horrified, Y/N watched Jimin shake, eyebrows scrunched up in agony, and she realized Namjoon was using his ‘gift’ on Jimin. For what, she wasn’t sure, but it was terrifying that he could inflict so much pain on even a vampire. 

“Enough,” Seokjin called, Namjoon releasing Jimin’s jaw at once, and the younger vampire gasped for breath, his body sagging over the table. “I told you you were on thin ice, Jimin.”

“Sorry,” Jimin heaved, only apologetic because he had to suffer from Namjoon’s Pain Illusion. The sensation of being burned alive was unbearable, but he didn’t regret what he said. Besides, it was trouble that he was craving earlier. 

“No you’re not,” Namjoon hissed, Y/N unable to process how scary Namjoon looked, standing beside Seokjin with his arms crossed. Y/N swore to herself, in that very moment, she would do everything in her power to avoid Namjoon using Pain Illusion on her. 

“Can we wrap this evening up now?” Yoongi asked, peeved. He wanted to isolate, to paint.  

“Not yet,” Seokjin twirled an empty wine glass contemplatively, his eyes then on Y/N. “Come here, little girl.”

“W-what? Why?” Y/N asked with dread, still nauseous. Seokjin clicked his tongue, agitated. 

Come here, little girl.

That time, Seokjin’s voice was in her head rather than out loud. Forgetting that he could use Compulsion, she felt her skin crawling hearing his dulcet tones inside of her head. Staring at her expectantly, Y/N was frozen in her seat. Seokjin snapped his fingers, and Namjoon rounded the table again, hooking one of his gloved hands under Y/N’s bicep. Roughly hauling her to her feet, she was effectively dragged to the head of the table, Y/N starting to hyperventilate and panic. Namjoon’s grip was bruising, her skin smarting when he let her go. 

Sit. 

Seokjin’s voice in her mind was firm and authoritative, spreading his legs expectantly. Y/N’s eyes bugged out of her head– there was no way on God’s green planet she was sitting on that vampire’s lap. Still borderline hysterical, she did the only thing she could think of: beg and plead. 

“P-please, please. Don’t hurt me,” Y/N had a tear running down her cheek, Seokjin’s expression hardening at the sight. 

Sit down.

Suddenly, Y/N’s spine went rigid. Seokjin’s mental suggestion didn’t seem so bad, then. Even though she was still crying and breathing heavily, her body moved on its own, lowering herself onto one of Seokjin’s thighs. The power of his suggestion, his Compulsion, was impossible to override, so embarrassingly, she was perched on Seokjin’s lap. The vampire curled a hand around her waist, his hold ironclad, to keep her in place. Panic setting in further, Y/N continued to beg the eldest vampire pathetically. 

“Please, I’m begging you,” Y/N whimpered, Seokjin setting his wine glass down and tracing his fingers over a steak knife beside it. 

“Jeongguk, Taehyung,” Seokjin sighed, exhausted. The little girl was proving to be difficult, so he’d need some persuasion to keep her quiet. Confused, Y/N looked at Jeongguk, more tears slipping down her face when she felt him worming her way into her memories. 

“I do not know if you’re aware how a coven operates…” Seokjin began, Y/N finding it hard to focus on his voice while Jeongguk was in her head. “But as the head of the coven, I must be the first to bite you. However, my covenmates… they’re starving.”

Chest heaving, Y/N hated the sturdy feeling of Seokjin’s chest pressed against her back. He was cold, plucking up the steak knife and totally indifferent to her hysteria. 

“Y/N, it’s okay!” A familiar, cheery voice had her head snapping in an opposite direction, pure amazement washing over her at the sight of the person across the table. 

It was Joseph, from the Sanctuary, dressed in his usual white linens and grinning at her. The sight of him had her tears drying up, even if she had no idea how her friend had gotten there. She didn’t even notice he had taken the spot that Taehyung once sat in. 

What Y/N wasn’t aware of was how Joseph managed to arrive at The Breakers. It was simple: Jeongguk found memories of Joseph in the acolyte’s mind, Seokjin pried the image of Joseph from Jeongguk’s report, and sent it to Taehyung, who then Glamored himself as the acolyte’s friend. The visual of her former friend was enough to have Y/N calming down somewhat, Taehyung keeping up the act by using words that ‘Joseph’ would. 

“I bet that meal was a lot better than the Sanctuary slop. We had canned tuna tonight.”

“Joey? How did you get here?” Y/N breathed, watching Joseph (Taehyung) push a hand through his dark curls, one of his common habits. 

You are going to be calm while I do this. 

Seokjin’s voice, a siren’s call in her brain, told her. She wasn’t entirely focused on the vampire whose lap she was sitting in, hardly aware that he was holding onto her wrist with a cold hand. All of her panic went away instantly, melting on Seokjin’s lap, limp for him. 

“Just visiting. Actually, it’s really nice here, isn’t it?” Joseph replied, Taehyung wondering just how close the two of them were as he saw Y/N through Joseph’s eyes. 

“I-I guess?” Y/N answered, still staring at her friend in disbelief. She froze when she felt something cold and sharp against her wrist, looking down to see that Seokjin had the steak knife against her skin. “Wait, what are you–”

“Y/N, I think you’ll be happy!” Her friend interrupted, distracting her. Taehyung inwardly smirked at how easy it was to fool her. 

“H-how? Ah!” Y/N yelped, Seokjin dragging the knife’s blade across her flesh, cutting into the skin. A three inch long gash was created, blood immediately spilling down her palm, Y/N out-of-body when Seokjin placed her wrist over the empty wine glass. 

“Look at me, Y/N. It’s alright. Hey, remember when we used to weed the garden together and see who could pull out the most dandelions?” 

“Uh-huh,” Y/N’s voice was far away, somehow relaxed in Seokjin’s arms and talking to her friend even though her wrist was just slit. Joseph was right, it was alright, everything was okay, and she’d be fine. “You’d always win.”

“That’s right, squirt. You could never beat me.”

His nickname for her had a stab of pain rocking through her. It really was Joseph!

“J-joey,” Y/N began, feeling lightheaded from the blood flowing from the gash on her wrist. “What were you trying to tell me when they took me away?”

Joseph seemed puzzled, Taehyung unfortunately not having an answer. Thinking on his feet, he composed himself, leaning forward, and came up with a response the girl would likely be satisfied with. 

“Oh, I said that I’d write to you every week. That I’d never forget you.”

Y/N didn’t reply, her expression wiping blank. Taehyung didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Surprisingly, Jeongguk couldn’t even decipher what she was thinking when he probed into her skull. All he felt coming from the girl was deep remorse. 

Then, Seokjin lifted her wrist again. Trembling, she turned to get a look at his perfect face, gasping sharply when the vampire brought her hand close to his face. Full lips parting, his tongue dragged along the cut he made on her wrist, and Y/N gawked in awe as she watched Seokjin’s eye color go from rusty to deep, dark red. 

“Vampire venom can cauterize wounds,” Taehyung’s low voice rang out, and when Y/N turned her head, Joseph was gone and Taehyung had returned to his seat. It was then that she realized she had been deceived, and her heart dropped. Joseph was never truly there, it was Taehyung Glamoring himself to make her docile. 

“Pass it around,” Seokjin spoke from behind her, his grip likely leaving a deep bruise on the small of her waist while Namjoon reached for the wine glass– nearly full to the brim with her blood. 

With horror, Y/N watched Namjoon take a deep gulp from the glass, color returning to his skin which took on a golden tone. His eyes, too, became richer in color, and in a daze, Y/N was still as the glass made its way around the table, each of the vampires seemingly coming back to life as soon as her blood touched their lips. 

Stay still, little girl. 

Seokjin, still ordering her around mentally, started to gather her hair in one of his fists, pushing it over her shoulder to expose the column of her neck. Helplessly, all Y/N could do was squeeze her eyes shut, knowing what was coming. 

A pair of cold, but plush, lips parted against her throat, the eldest vampire collecting her in his arms firmly as razor-sharp fangs brushed her skin. Gripping the edge of the dining table, she shrieked when she felt Seokjin’s fangs sink into her neck. 

There was a stinging sensation– probably the venom– but a head-to-toe pain flooded through her all at once. It was repulsive to feel Seokjin’s temperature immediately heat up, his chest becoming warm like a human’s, all because of her blood flowing into his mouth. Unable to move due to his supernatural strength keeping her caged, she felt hot tears pouring down her cheeks while Seokjin latched onto her. The recognizable sensation of blood leaving her body, the sensation she hated more than anything, was intensified now that it was literally being sucked out of her. 

“Please,” Y/N wheezed, broken. Everything was spinning, and her vision was dimming. 

Finally, Seokjin’s fangs retracted, the girl like a rag doll in his lap when he used his tongue to stop the bite from bleeding further. Though she was slight, simple, and weak, her blood was life-giving, and some of the best blood he had ever tasted. The emotion he was feeling, using the back of his hand to clean up the trail of blood dripping down his chin, was comparable to human amazement that he hadn’t felt for over eight hundred years. 

Y/N was completely shaken. Over the course of several minutes, she was manhandled and maimed, deceived and manipulated, and bitten. It was more horrible than she ever could have imagined, her head fuzzy and the side of her throat throbbing painfully. 

Get up. 

Seokjin’s voice haunted her, and she never wanted to hear it again. She knew, however, it was just the beginning of him residing in her mind, and it made her want to use the bloodied steak knife he used on her to cut her own throat. His mental suggestion was so powerful that she actually ended up struggling to her feet, finally out of the eldest vampire’s proximity. 

“What did I tell you all? She’s a good little pet,” Hoseok, the picture of vitality with her blood in his system, chuckled, Y/N’s knees buckling before she collapsed on the floor. 

Taglist; @hanmyjisung @kiki-zb @hemmofluke @lovelyglares @honsoolfilter @kaeya91 @alessiamalfoyzabini @wisejudgepandafan @yoongtism @moonj-oon @melidramatic7 @the-theban-script @cryingnotcrying @m00njinnie @maeveontherun @tinybasementmaker-blog @jasmin-loves-k-pop @justlikecrazy @neverthefirstchoice @chibimanda @kayways @adoreyou976 @darkpuppysuit @mischieviouscassie @monkeytime3474 @asillyduck15 @a2zure @oopscoop @ellaints @artfrhe @trustfratedjin @lightwxodd @drenix004 @xicanacorpse @mar-lo @ancagab16 @imnotsleepyo__o @yxmer @levislifeline @susi-199 @bratalicious777 @lilacdreams-00 @tnafzi @miniminaa1412 @sassy-snassy @lilyalone @butterymin @dearbambideer @mar-lo-pap @chxmachxps @mxymii @wiredlifee @dachshunddame @1lykk1tts @opalturtle @nikkiordonez12 @justagirlinlovewithsevenboys @deemiin10 @yoonepilogue @7angelsinthiscruelworld

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[smileyoongle]

Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader

Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU

Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.

Warnings- Mentions of blood, gore and murder scenes, eventual smut, JK is definitely a hard dom and mad possessive, vampire bites and blood sucking.

A/N- Even though I have tagged the people who asked to be tagged, there will be no taglist for this series from here on. I only tagged you guys to sort of let you know this series has started. It's a big struggle to keep all those usernames up to date so you might wanna turn on the notifs :)

Please find the introduction to the world of Amour Mort here!

You ran through the forest, tears in your eyes making it difficult to see the path ahead, but you could tell you were venturing deeper into the more dangerous side. At the back of your mind, you were very aware that you shouldn’t be here past midnight, and that if someone found you breaking curfew, you would probably be executed by the throne, thinking you were some sort of rebel revolting in the recent uprisings. But all of that paled in comparison to the despair gnawing at your soul.

The branches clawed at your skin, leaving angry red marks, but you didn’t slow down, only realizing you had come here barefoot when tiny stones began hurting the bottom of your feet. You were being chased—not by a person, but by your own thoughts and the relentless ache in your chest. Your father’s words would not stop playing in your mind, your palms pressing against your ears as you closed your eyes in an attempt to silence his voice.

"You're nothing but a burden to me. I wish you had never been born!"

Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through your right foot, sending you stumbling and falling to the ground with all the air being knocked out of your lungs. You winced, letting out a whimper as you managed to look back, gasping at the bear trap that had clamped around your foot. Its teeth dug into your flesh, and blood pooled on the dead leaves beneath you.

“No…” you cried out, sobbing at your misfortune, the pain from your wound shooting through your leg in waves. A thought came to you: maybe this is how you die, completely alone and unloved, with no one to care that you weren’t at home right now.

‘That’s not true! Lila cares…’

Your mind screamed at you, your sister’s pretty face popping into your head. Well, this was true; your sister did care about you. But really, there was only so much she could do when your father did not even acknowledge you as his daughter. You still remembered the party where a guest mistook you for a maiden working in the mansion. It had truly hurt you, but there was nothing you could say, not when that is probably what your father wanted the world to think. A part of you thinks he hates you because your mother died just five days after you were born, but how could you, a mere baby, be at fault for that?

Gathering all your energy, you began to drag yourself to a tree nearby, wincing and whimpering with every wave of pain that washed over you. You could even feel the burn on the skin of your forearms where it rubbed against the rocky and muddy ground, convinced that the sleeve of your dress was beginning to tear. Were you even going to make it back home? Did you even want to make it back home?

Upon reaching the giant tree, you pushed yourself up, managing to rest your back against the trunk, finally getting a good look at the steel trap wrapped around your foot. Meant for animals, it was likely a tool for the poorer vampires who couldn’t afford human slaves and fed on animal blood instead. It was the one law that favored humans: vampires were forbidden to feed on them freely. But nonetheless, it was always the innocent ones who had to pay the price. The night-walkers were given the gift of strength and brutality that they used against the weak, be it you or an animal.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, your breathing growing harsh, and your vision growing blurry. It was the blood loss, and you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Either you were getting used to it, or your body had started focusing on the fact that you were dying instead. Whatever was happening, it was not good, and you had no idea how to help yourself.

“You shouldn’t be here. Not at this time.” A voice broke through the darkness, making you jump in surprise, your eyes immediately landing on a man’s silhouette standing just a few steps away from you. Your heart hammered in your chest, and, swallowing thickly, you pressed yourself further against the tree, hoping that would make you disappear.

Was this someone who was going to turn you in? Maybe the cause of your death was going to be execution and not a bear trap?

Your silence only prompted the man to move closer to you and into the moonlight filtering through the trees, your lips parting as you took in his face. He was truly breathtaking, with black hair that fell across his forehead and eyes that seemed to pierce through the night. There was black ink peeking at you from under the collar of his black shirt on his neck, more patterns emerging from under his rolled-up sleeve right up to his knuckles, making you wonder just how much of his body was tainted like this.

“N-neither should you,” you said bravely, though your voice was small and weak.

He chuckled in response, making you purse your lips as you watched him kneel down beside you, your body subconsciously shifting backward even though there was nowhere to go, every single thought in your mind long gone in the presence of this man.

His eyes slowly moved across your body, taking in your tear-stained cheeks, your tattered dress, and your bloody foot, tutting at the condition of your wound.

“This is why you shouldn’t be here, little human,” he said, your eyes widening as you caught a hint of amusement on his face, your blood running cold at the realization. Your breath was caught in your throat, and you were suddenly very aware of the blood you were soaked in, your eyes nervously flitting between him and your poor foot. If you had to die, you didn’t want to do so at the hands of a vampire. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine the pain that was probably about to suffocate you when he ripped your heart right out of your chest.

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, staring into his eyes with tears in yours, shaking your head when he smirked and leaned in closer to you. Closing your eyes, you let the tears fall freely and turned your face away from him, his breath fanning your neck and making you whimper.

“You must taste exquisite.” He inhaled deeply, your chest heaving as his words made your heart thump harder in your chest. This has to be it. He was going to drain your body right now, and no one was going to find out ever.

Preparing yourself for the attack, you closed your eyes shut and gripped the skirt of your dress, thinking about your family for the last time before your life was taken from you.

“But I’m not going to do that.” Came his voice, your eyes slowly opening as you glanced over at him, noticing the sudden distance he had put between the two of you. A frown etched on your forehead, your tears drying up on your cheeks as you processed his words. He was not going to hurt you?

“I’m too old to lose control over a bit of blood.” He gestured nonchalantly towards your foot, shocking you at how he thought this was just a bit of blood. You were literally going to pass out soon.

“Wh-why are you here?” you stammered, biting your tongue when his expression hardened, his eyes sending daggers your way and letting you know that you shouldn’t have asked him that. Silence engulfed you both, your eyes failing to look away from him. It was almost as if he was holding you prisoner under his gaze, a flash of guilt disappearing from his dark eyes as soon as it came.

“I had to get away before they caught up to me,” he confessed, a cool breeze ruffling his hair as he stood up and stared down at you, his eyes reading the confusion in yours.

“Who-”

“My sins,” he responded before you could even ask, his thick boots crunching the leaves on the gravelly path as he walked in front of your stretched-out leg and sat down on one knee. A flash of lightning struck through the sky at that very second, as if to show that the heavens had heard his confession too. And when the thunder illuminated his face, you could swear you had seen the very face of evil.

“Are you scared of me?” he asked, tilting his head as you swallowed thickly, shaking your head hesitantly. But you knew he didn’t believe you when he let out a small laugh. It sounded bitter to your ears, like he was mocking you for being so weak yet trying to fool him at the same time.

“Well, you should be.” In one quick motion, his hand ripped apart the trap into two pieces, your flesh being freed from the sharp claws that were jammed into it. Dots filled your vision as your lips parted in a silent scream, your chest hurting as if you were having a heart attack, and maybe you were because you felt your body go limp as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Strong arms held you before you could hit the ground, your head suddenly resting against a firm chest as your breath came out all raggedy. You could feel sweat beading on your forehead, your body not having any energy to even let you open your eyes for a second.

“W-why…” you breathed out, your voice a bare whisper in the night. And the next thing you knew, you felt a hand pressing against your lips before a metallic taste filled your mouth. With all the energy left in you, you opened your eyes wide and grabbed the tattooed arm feeding you blood, your attempts at pushing it away failing miserably.

“Sshh, you need this. You need me,” the vampire whispered above you, his chin resting atop your head as he ran his free hand through your hair. Knowing that you couldn’t fight him off, not like this, you gave up and swallowed the disgusting liquid that made your body feel warm all of a sudden. You could hear your heart pumping and your breathing steadying as the blood worked its way into your system, your senses sharpening, and your strength slowly returning.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his arm away, and you let out a string of coughs, gasping for air while the awful taste lingered on your tongue. It was truly ironic how the blood of someone dead could heal a living being. How a killer could give life to someone. And you were sure that this man who had saved your life was a killer too. Why else would he talk about his sins catching up to him?

“What did you do that you had to run away?” you asked as soon as you found your voice, your tired eyes glancing up at the man holding you. His eyes flitted between your eyes and your lips, sending shivers down your spine when he brought up his thumb and rubbed away some blood from the corner of your mouth.

“What’s your name?” He avoided your question smoothly, pretending you hadn’t spoken a word to him. Frowning, you thought about it for a moment, wondering whether it was a good idea to tell him who you were. But at the same time, you weren’t a very valuable human. There was really nothing he could want from you that would make him hunt you down.

“Y/N,” you said, averting your gaze to your foot, which was now void of any wounds. Your skin looked completely smooth and untouched except for the dried blood staining it, leaving you staring in awe.

“Well, Y/N,” he started, regaining your attention, “you’re gonna find out tomorrow.”

You frowned at his words, wondering if this implied that he was going to see you tomorrow to tell you what sin he had committed. Too lost in your head to notice that he had stood up, you saw him offer his hand to you. Your fingers hesitantly took hold of his cold ones. With ease, he pulled you up as you slightly lifted your dress and examined your foot, pleased with the fact that there was absolutely no pain anymore.

“This is-” You turned to glance at the man, only to be met with darkness. The vampire was gone, the forest was silent, and you were alone once again.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @girl8890 @adasboredom @acrazybiotch374 @tutnotmytea @leilei-9 @yoonjinhusbands @kumakoyan @ttanniett

[chimcess]

Nachash || jhs

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Med Student!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count: 21.4k+ Summary: After the loss of both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell their home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place that she has little memories of despite 10 years of living in Harlem. Her world begins to shift, and she starts to lose sight of dreams and reality, and at the center of it all is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her a strange sense of deja vu, but she can’t help but wonder if he is who he says he is and why a strange bar keeps popping up in her nightmares. Warnings: Strong language, bad medical terminology (I tried), Hoseok has a demon side (like physically different), main character (somewhat) death (graphic), graphic violence, reader slowly losing her mind, heavy religious themes in a large chunk of this, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, manhandling, hard dom Hoseok, so much blood, low-key a yandere but not really, blood play, blood drinking, begging for life, extreme emotional manipulation, growling, over stimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up), DARK ENDING, dubious consent (mind control/mood control/literally cannot leave Hoseok's presence), reader is severely mentally ill by the end of this, demonic possession, Stockholm syndrome, this is not a cute demon romance, read at your own risk, stopping here since there’s a lot just let me know if I missed anything A/N: After posting a teaser for this fic two years ago, I finally got around to finishing it! I’m still working on my smut skills, so I apologize in advance, but I hope you can get down with my favorite (and extremely evil) demon man. Happy Halloween (or, to my fellow Pagans, Happy Samhain)!

Prologue || Listen to the Playlist || Cross posted on AO3: here

Nachash (noun) "snake; serpent". Derived from the Hebrew root n-ch-sh.

July 1997

"How are you feeling?"

I sighed, pulling open another box. Unpacking was always the worst part of moving, like some cosmic joke designed to break you down piece by piece. Plates stared back at me from the box, and I clenched my jaw. The one on top was chipped—another thing on my growing list of replacements. I pulled it out and set it aside, determined to deal with it later. The rest of the plates went away in the cabinet. The broken one would be tossed.

"I don't know," I confessed. "Mom died. I'm everywhere."

My brother's hum of acknowledgment was all I heard. Miles had always been a quiet, distant sort, barely speaking to our parents. Their deaths hit him hard, but more so with Dad than Mom. Dad had been the stable one, while Mom was a relentless storm—never satisfied, constantly pushing, always demanding. To her, a doctor and a lawyer weren't enough. Miles had always seen her as aggressive, unyielding, and ever discontented. And Dad? Well, his complacency had its own way of grating.

Miles had moved to Oregon right after graduating from FSU, never looking back. We'd made the trek to see him a few times, but he'd never returned the favor. My stint in New York had mended our relationship somewhat. He visited frequently and spent his summers with me, and after Dad passed, he made a point to see Mom at least once a year. I didn't mind the trips to Portland; my Jacksonville home had become his family's vacation spot.

"So am I," he said, his voice betraying a hint of fatigue.

They'd been at each other's throats, arguing constantly, with his wife loathing Mom. Yet, I knew Miles held some affection for her despite their tumultuous relationship. He'd never truly made her proud, and that haunted him. I understood, but when I moved back home, the dynamics shifted. Mom used me as a weapon against Miles, making me the favored child, the one who came back. Miles was the ungrateful one who'd married the wrong woman.

Mom always blamed Trinity for Miles' "bad attitude." Dad knew better. I knew better.

"So," Miles shifted gears, "when can we come and visit?"

I smiled, "I'll be out there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. So maybe next summer?"

"That's a long wait."

I chuckled, "Well, Rory starts school this year and Trinity's pregnant. You're just as busy as I am."

I'd been the one with the most on my plate for years. Mom, a real estate agent, rarely left home, while Dad ran a plumbing company. When Miles went to college, I was knee-deep in medical school applications. During my residency, Miles was grinding through law school. When I moved back to Florida, I was buried in ICU shifts while he graduated and started his own practice. He met Trinity, and the two became inseparable. Mom despised her, but I saw how they brought out the best in each other. My career-driven life had left me disconnected, and while Mom reveled in it, I resented it.

Kids changed everything for them. Aurora was their miracle baby. Trinity had struggled with fertility for years, and when they finally had a child, it was as if their world had transformed. My brother was spent, and Mom's resentment boiled over. She was always bitter that they hadn't uprooted their lives back to Florida for the grandchild. By then, Miles didn't care. He'd made the trips for Dad but after Mom's cruel comments about Trinity's weight and their daughter being "too pretty" to be her granddaughter, Aurora never set foot in the family home again.

"Aurora is driving me crazy," Miles groaned. "She won't stop talking about the baby."

"As a big sister, I can tell you she's just being a normal kid."

"I know that," I could almost hear his eye roll. "I'm just worried. It's still early, and I don't want her hopes to get too high. Trinity's scared of another miscarriage."

It would be her sixth.

"Try to stay positive, bub," I bit my lip, surveying the cluttered room. I'd never finish today. "If it happens, it happens. But don't go into it expecting the worst."

"Between Mom and this…" He trailed off.

I understood his fear. Trinity was a few years older than me, and her anxiety was palpable. At 38, any pregnancy brought its own set of worries. Last I heard, Trinity was considering getting her tubes tied if this one didn't make it. The heartache was becoming unbearable.

"Hey," I kept my tone gentle, knowing that riling him up wouldn't help. "Keep your head up. Her next appointment is soon. Ensure she's sticking to bedrest, and you'll be fine."

"What if it happens again?"

My heart broke for him. Miles had always been the rock, the one who seemed unshakeable. Seeing him this vulnerable starkly contrasted with the angry kid he'd been in high school. Mom had pushed his buttons mercilessly, and I had vague memories of our squabbles, but they paled compared to the constant battles he faced with her.

I wondered if he ever grasped how I felt. He always thought Mom liked me more, but it was more about her being able to overlook me. While he fought for her attention, nothing I did ever really mattered. It was like a fog followed me, obscuring me from their view. Sometimes, it would lift, and Mom would acknowledge me, but then it would return, and I was forgotten.

"You'll get through it," I assured him.

We chatted a bit more. Aurora was excited about kindergarten and had picked out new uniforms. She was obsessed with Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, and her new backpack reflected that. She'd even given her Prince Wednesday stuffed animal to the baby. It was everyday family life, but the emptiness in my chest grew. I longed for laughter and the innocent joy of children in my home.

"Trinity's calling me," Miles said, his voice muffled by distance.

"I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you too, sissy."

I smiled faintly, "Later."

He hung up before I could say anything else. I glanced around the room, eyes narrowing at the boxes that seemed to taunt me with their mere existence. All of them were my own—mainly books, a few other odds and ends. The sadness that gripped me was relentless. I'd always had the most demanding job, the tightest schedule, and the deepest insecurities. Miles was angry, and I was desperate to be seen, so much so that I followed every command without question. Now, here I was, alone, surrounded by regret.

Dating felt like a cruel joke. My time in New York had alienated me more than anything else. That fog of invisibility from my childhood had returned with a vengeance. Coworkers would barely look at me for over a second; people on the street seemed oblivious to my presence and dates. They always ended badly. They weren't evil men but would forget my name within seconds. It felt like I wasn't real, like I existed on some other plane.

The only person who seemed to remember I existed anymore was my brother and his family. Dad's Alzheimer's had robbed him of any memory of us before he passed. Mom, too incoherent at Hospice, never stayed awake long enough to acknowledge my presence. Sometimes, it felt like Miles would momentarily forget me, only for my name to pop into his mind at predictable intervals—like clockwork, only calling on specific days and times, usually if he was planning a trip. It upset me more than I could recall, but now I wondered why.

"This place won't unpack itself," I muttered aloud.

I'd talked to myself so much it felt almost normal. I knew I needed to make friends, that without connections, I'd end up as lonely as my father, but the idea seemed futile. No one saw me clearly. No one ever had. When I searched my memories for anyone who had seen me, I came up empty. No one had ever really seen me. No one ever would. Instinctively, I knew this despite the facade of normalcy I tried to maintain. I had a job, a family, a house. I wasn't haunted. Or… maybe I was just being childish. I was simply forgettable, unremarkable. This I knew.

"I exist," I whispered, the words reverberating loudly in the stillness of my apartment.

The silence that pervaded my life mocked me with its omnipresence.

"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?"

"It's a lounge, sha," came a voice behind me.

What a peculiar dream. I took a bite of my sandwich, returning to the rude awakening that morning. I rarely remembered my dreams, if I had them at all. But last night had been different. I'd found myself in a dimly lit room with a man I couldn't recall clearly, dressed in white and speaking with an accent I couldn't place. I woke up before anything significant happened. The dream had been woefully uneventful.

The floor was almost eerily quiet tonight. Aside from the constant beeps and monitors scattered around and George Gilmore in room 11 watching football, no one spoke. The nurses here seemed less lively than I was accustomed to, their faces vacant, their words few. I kept to my small office most of the night, avoiding their station.

We'd had one death so far—a patient with a DNR who suffered a stroke shortly after midnight. Another woman had been pronounced brain-dead an hour ago. We'd wait until tomorrow to pull the plug, so her daughter could say goodbye. I didn't count her in my tally. The night crew had a way of seeing me even less than the others, and I didn't like them much.

"Hello, Doctor."

I jumped, startled. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. My irritation took me by surprise. I wasn't typically agitated; my feelings were either muted or overwhelming. He pushed his hair back, revealing messy chocolate brown locks, and held a clipboard stained with dubious marks.

"Sorry," he mumbled, shifting awkwardly under my gaze. I was already weary of his presence. "I was told you were new and thought I should introduce myself before leaving for the night. I'm Damon Glass, one of the anesthesiologists."

"Y/N Y/L/N," I replied, my voice flat and uninviting. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he smiled, showing a gap between his front teeth that reminded me of my father's. It was a rare sight among people my age. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to come to me. Dr. Whitlock is on the floor, and I believe Morgan Fletcher is on call."

I nodded, appreciating the information but ready for him to leave. My distaste had faded, but I preferred brevity in conversations, especially with outsiders. I disliked the feeling of interacting with them. It was why I preferred dealing with the nearly dead; they rarely spoke, and when they did, I knew they'd be too medicated to remember much. The families were more accessible to handle than the ones back in Florida.

It was odd how my thoughts could veer into such morbid territories. Almost as morbid as my enjoyment of overseeing dying patients. It was not as macabre as my unbidden glee at my mother's death alongside my brother, but it ranked high on my list of flaws.

"Have a good night," I said, returning to my computer to refresh my emails.

Dr. Glass seemed to take the hint, leaving with an awkward smile and wave.

August 1997

I stood outside the door, the muffled sounds of grief seeping through the walls like a relentless, jagged current. The family's sorrow was palpable, a heavy fog that followed me down the hallway. I hoped to catch them in a better moment, but the cruel truth of this place was that better moments were rare. With a resigned breath, I raised my hand and knocked. The room fell silent, and a strained voice called out, allowing me to enter.

Elizabeth Fraiser had lived a life filled with grace and elegance. Once a dancer whose feet had carried her across Europe's stages, she met her husband in Paris and married him there. They had settled in New York, where her days of ballet had given way to a quieter role as a ballet instructor in Jersey. She had raised a family, and her pride in her children was as evident as her passion for dance. She spoke of them with a joy that contrasted sharply with the emptiness of my own mother's words.

Now, Elizabeth was in the late stages of lung cancer. Her family had clung to the hope of letting her pass away at home, but the relentless pneumonia and ceaseless pain had pushed them to make the difficult decision to admit her here. Her condition had worsened sharply today, and her family was struggling to cope with the harsh reality.

"Good afternoon," I said softly, a gentle murmur in the oppressive silence.

"Nice to see you," Elizabeth's oldest son, Elijah, managed a weak smile. We both knew he wasn't fond of doctors, but he tolerated me because I didn't overstay my welcome. "Mom's been sleeping for a while."

I stifled a sigh. Her body was crumbling, and delivering bad news was never easy. The small comfort was knowing she would soon feel nothing at all. We planned to increase her morphine dosage and withdraw all other medications. Her family would need to agree, but I wasn't too concerned. Mary, her daughter, had debated extending her mother's life with her brothers.

"We're really at the end, aren't we?" Mary's voice was strained, her husband's arm around her for support. Among them, she was the calmest, but the edges of her composure were frayed. Her eyes were red, testimony to her unrelenting tears. "Will she be in pain?"

I explained our focus on alleviating her suffering. She would be less coherent in the coming days but occasionally rouse enough to interact with them between doses. We aimed to ensure she had the utmost comfort and relief in her final days. The youngest Percy took the news hardest and had to excuse himself. I held Mary's hand, appreciating the warmth of human connection. I prided myself on my bedside manner.

"I know home care wasn't ideal for you," I broached delicately, aware of their crowded lives and young children. "But I'm offering it as an option. Respite care is also available, though I understand it was stressful before. It's worth discussing."

Elijah shook his head firmly. Mary hesitated, but her husband's reminder to care for herself and their baby swayed her. Percy's wife raised concerns about her own health, cementing the decision. Elizabeth would remain with us in her final days. It was probably for the best—she was too frail and in too much agony without constant medication.

"Let me know if you need anything," I said, glancing at the family. The nurses are always available, and I'm on call until six. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?"

"Mom needs a bath," Percy reentered the room. A nurse had come by earlier, asking if we were ready to step out. Let them know they could come in."

The rest of my shift dragged on. Other families were terse and uncommunicative, and their responses were minimal. I understood their grief, but it did little to ease my weary spirit. The nurses seemed as disinterested in me as ever. I had long since given up trying to connect with them.

The air outside was crisp, almost biting. I walked to the subway, the city traffic too maddening to endure. I'd trade bumper-to-bumper frustration for the quirks of the subway any day. Last week, a man in a bunny costume rapped at six in the morning. The week before, a man argued with his reflection in the window. Last night, an elderly woman beside me commented on my disheveled appearance, lamenting that men didn't like that and worrying I'd die alone. I barely remember if I responded. I hated talking on the subway; her parting insult had stung me.

Tonight promised to be different. I left the hospital later than usual, after two code blues and an injury report for a nurse. Overdue paperwork and an insurance squabble later, it was past eight when I left. My walk was short, and the wait at the terminal was OK, but the train didn't arrive until 9:30. When I finally boarded, the car was almost empty.

Then a group of men entered. They were rowdy, pushing each other, their drunkenness a stifling cloud. I almost moved when they sat too close, but I didn't want to draw attention. I could feel their eyes on me. I clutched my bag tightly, fingers brushing the can of pepper spray hooked to its strap. I was almost home. Just three more stops.

"Hey," one of the men called out. I ignored him. "Hey, you."

I hated the subway.

"Leave her alone."

That voice caught my attention. I knew it—or thought I did. When I looked up, I was met with a stranger, yet his presence felt oddly familiar. He was striking, with tanned skin and sharp features that made his brown eyes stand out under the harsh fluorescent lights. He took the seat beside mine, and I didn't stop him. The men were back to their raucous laughter, and I was forgotten. I relaxed slightly, hoping to remain unnoticed.

"Sorry about them," he said, his warm and soothing voice a gentle tenor that evoked a sense of nostalgia. "Are you OK?"

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. Something about him tugged at the edges of my memory, yet he wasn't a celebrity, and I was sure I'd never met him before. Perhaps we'd crossed paths on the subway? My brain was playing tricks on me.

"Yes," I said softly. "Thank you."

Despite myself, I stole glances at him. I had to remind myself to breathe when I ventured past his neck. He was slender, but there was a subtle strength beneath his clothes. If he noticed my scrutiny, he said nothing. He returned to his book, but I was convinced that his eyes were still on me when I finally looked away.

I jolted awake, my body wracked with shivers despite the suffocating warmth of the blanket. The room was deathly silent, save for the moonlight streaming through the window like a spotlight on a stage set for a performance I never auditioned for. I rolled over, trying to bury myself deeper into the cocoon of my blanket, but then I heard it—a voice, soft and faint, yet carrying an unsettling authority.

“Oh, Y/N,” the voice crooned, dripping with a sinister allure. “It’s time. Come to me.”

Confusion and dread clawed at my insides as I stumbled out of bed. The room was a far cry from my own—stone walls, thick and oppressive, casting shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent glee. The floor beneath my feet was icy, a stark contrast to the comfort of my bed. My nightgown, white and delicate, felt like a mockery in this alien environment.

This wasn’t my room.

The voice came again, seductive and commanding. “Y/N, come out, come out, now. I’m waiting for you.”

Compelled, I moved to the window. Below, in the moonlit expanse of the lawn, stood the man from the subway. His face was eerily illuminated, his head tilted back as if inviting me to join him in the darkness below. His eyes—glowing a brilliant gold—seemed to reach out to me, promising unspeakable things if only I would take the leap.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away. He raised a hand, crooking a finger in a silent invitation. It was as if an invisible thread was pulling me toward him. Entranced, my feet moved on their own accord. Barefoot, the cold stone beneath me was a cruel contrast to the warmth I’d just left behind. I wandered through hallways and passages that felt simultaneously foreign and intimately known, descending into the shadows where he waited.

As I emerged onto the lawn, his smile made me shiver. He approached, his fingers brushing the side of my face—teasing, tantalizing, yet never quite touching.

“I’ve waited for you for so long,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress. “So very long. And now, now you’re mine.”

A fragment of my mind screamed in protest, shouting that I didn’t belong to him, that I didn’t even know who he was or why I was here. But a deeper, more primal force tugged at me, pulling me closer until I was nearly touching him. His presence was unsettlingly soothing, and I took a breath, feeling the heat of his gaze.

“That’s right, my lamb, come closer,” he coaxed.

An overwhelming longing surged through me—irrational, illogical, yet so profound that I couldn’t resist. I needed him to touch me, to make the connection complete. I tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck to the moonlight.

He responded immediately, his fingers trailing along my throat, their cool touch sending shivers through me. I gasped, my body lighting up with each delicate brush.

“More,” I heard myself plead, pressing closer.

“Say it,” he demanded, his arms enveloping me in a possessive embrace. “Who do you belong to?”

“You. I’m yours.”

He cradled my head in his hand, leaning in. His lips were smooth against my skin, but his teeth were sharp as they pierced through flesh. I screamed as he drank deeply.

I awoke with a start, sitting up in bed, my hands clutching at my throat, searching for any sign of injury. The skin was intact, unbroken. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm my racing heart that felt as though it might burst from my chest.

The lamp flickered on with a click, casting a harsh, unwelcome light that made me squint and shield my eyes. Grabbing my robe and a cup, I shuffled out of the room, the chill of the hallway hitting me like a slap. I closed the door quietly behind me, trying not to disturb the oppressive silence that hung heavy in the air. The bathroom, bathed in the sickly fluorescent glow, was as deserted as I’d hoped.

I filled my cup halfway with water from one of the sinks, then leaned against the cold, sterile tiles, watching my reflection in the mirror as I took slow, deliberate sips. The dream—the one that had shaken me awake—felt so unnervingly real.

I traced the line of my neck with trembling fingers, the blue vein just beneath the surface. What kind of twisted message was my mind trying to send me with that nightmare? It had been a full-on gothic horror—a relic of some crumbling English manor, not the kind of place I ever imagined myself visiting, unless I was buried in a pile of classic literature.

And him. The monster. Even now, as I closed my eyes, I could still see his face—a blend of dark allure and cruel beauty. His eyes, oh, those eyes. They’d held me in thrall, made me willing to surrender to any demand he made. I could almost feel his cold touch, see his smile that promised both ecstasy and agony.

Wasn’t the whole vampire-mother-stuff supposed to be a metaphor for sex? Maybe that’s what my subconscious was trying to shove in my face—sex, or the glaring void where it should have been in my life.

I studied my flushed reflection, feeling the heat in my cheeks. I shook my head, trying to shake off the nightmare’s grip.

The man sat next to me again. It had been a week since I last saw him, and my body still reacted to his presence. Today, I admired his chiseled jawline and elongated face. He was an exquisite oval with a strong profile. This time, he caught me looking and smiled shyly.

"I'm Hoseok."

The name sent a shiver, stirring something familiar and unsettling. I quickly brushed off the uneasy feeling. It was probably my own insecurity.

"Y/N," I replied, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

He resumed reading, and I focused on crocheting a stuffed rabbit for my nephew. Miles had called that morning to update me on Trinity's appointment. The toy wasn't perfect—far from it—but I wanted to give it a try.

"How would you feel about dinner?" Hoseok's voice broke through my thoughts.

I paused my knitting. "I enjoy dinner. Who doesn't?"

He chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that made me blush. "Cheeky."

I bit my lip, unsure if it was a compliment. I felt a pang of embarrassment, struggling to maintain my composure. The first date I'd been asked on since undergrad, and I was fumbling. Miles would have a field day.

"Would you like dinner with me?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

Hoseok's laughter resonated deeply within me, and I felt a jolt of warmth as he slid closer, his knee brushing against mine. He was impossibly warm. Instinctively, I shifted away, uncomfortable with his proximity. There was something off about him, an unsettling vibe that I couldn't quite place.

But then he smiled, and that soft, disarming grin evaporated all my doubts. He was dazzling. My eyes fluttered shut as his cologne enveloped me, weakening my knees. I had to remind myself to breathe. He was captivating.

"Do you like Italian?" he asked, his voice deeper now.

I nodded, struggling to steady my breath. Panic and embarrassment churned within me, but I couldn't ignore the physical response. My mind was flooded with inappropriate thoughts of Hoseok, vivid and intrusive. I gasped, feeling a flush of heat I hadn't experienced in a long time. 

"Does two weeks work?"

Snapping out of my daze, I looked at Hoseok and nodded. 

"I'm off on the 27th."

He smiled, and I stared at his teeth longer than necessary. They seemed different—sharper, perhaps, with redder gums. I blinked, reassured that they were just as I remembered. My sleep deprivation must be getting to me.

"Meet you here?"

We agreed to meet at six. I'd catch the 5:30 train to ensure I arrived before him. As the subway pulled into my stop, I waved goodbye and stepped out, only to realize I hadn't asked him where we were going. The thought lingered until the following day.

The voice is louder now, sharper, as if it’s cutting through the fog of my half-sleep. “Y/N? I’m waiting for you. Come to me now.”

I hear it, feel the tug of it dragging me towards him, but fear clamps down on me like a vice. My bare feet are numb on the cold, wet grass as I stumble through the twisting maze of hedges, trying to escape the invisible force that pulls me like iron to a magnet.

My breath hitches, coming fast and uneven, as I sprint around corners, the long white gown tangling around my legs and tripping me up. I’m not sure anymore if I’m searching for a way out or if I’m trying to find him.

I turn another corner, my ankle twists and pain shoots through my leg as I crash into an open space—a small, white fountain sits in the middle, surrounded by benches.

Through the flickering light of the moon dancing on the water, I see him. Not a figment of my imagination, but there he is, standing as he promised, waiting.

Hoseok walks towards me with a slow, deliberate grace. He bends, lifting me effortlessly from the mess of my tangled gown and into his arms. I feel a peculiar sense of completeness as he sits on a bench, cradling me like a precious artifact.

“Were you bringing me your gift? Or were you trying to run from me?” His voice is soft, almost tender, and yet it cuts through me. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes. I’m lost, adrift in confusion.

I’m mesmerized by his flawless beauty. My fingers move of their own accord, reaching towards his face. That smile returns, and I see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“You may touch me.” His lips part slightly, and I press my fingers against them. His tongue flicks out, wrapping around my fingertip and drawing it into his mouth. Before I can react, I feel a sharp bite.

I gasp as he licks the blood that wells up from the small wound. “A small treat,” he murmurs. “That’s why you came, isn’t it?”

I find myself nodding, helpless under his gaze.

He licks my finger one last time, savoring the taste before swallowing. “They told me you’d be extraordinary, worth every moment of waiting. Yet, your taste is beyond anything I ever dreamed.”

My body reacts to his words and his touch—still innocent but making my skin feel like it’s stretched too tight, like I might explode. I let my head fall back, exposing my neck to him as his tongue traces a path up the sensitive skin.

And then he bites.

I bolt awake, heart pounding as if it might burst from my chest. I fumble in the dark, reaching for the light switch, feeling profoundly alone with Rose away for the weekend.

I throw off the covers and stagger to the mirror, desperately checking my neck. There’s nothing there, no sign of the bite.

A cold shiver runs down my spine. I grab a blanket and a book, and huddle in the hall lounge, surrounded by the harsh light of every lamp and the incessant flicker of the television, trying to drive away the lingering shadows of the nightmare.

September 1997

I eased into my seat, the familiar weight of my bag pressed to my left side and draped an arm over it as if to claim it for my own. It was the first night off from the relentless grind of being on-call since mid-August and the first real night out in years. I’d never been much for the party scene, and medical school had only sharpened that aversion. The last time I went out for drinks was nearly six years ago, a fleeting memory of bar hopping that I’d abandoned early, too exhausted to keep pace with my friends.

Tonight, however, felt different. There was a nagging sense that I was misremembering that long-ago night, like a foggy half-remembered dream where something vital was missing. My life in New York had become a blur of medical texts and sleepless shifts, the grueling 24-hour days erasing the finer details of my existence. My final year had been a carousel of discomfort, but the specifics eluded me, lost in exhaustion. Perhaps a creep of some sort, some misguided doctor with a name I couldn’t quite grasp—maybe that’s what had soured my memory. 

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to find Hoseok’s contact. The old SeaTAC was still a relic of the past, but I clung to it out of stubborn habit. Despite its age, it was a lifeline to the outside world, a way to escape the pager’s relentless beeping. I longed for the day when I could toss the landline, but the cost of cell phone minutes constantly reminded me of its importance. With his endless chatter, Miles made sure I burned through those minutes with alarming frequency.

“Hello?” Hoseok’s voice was silky, a comforting balm after a long stretch of clinical detachment.

“Hey,” I breathed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just got on.”

“See you soon,” he said, his tone warm and reassuring. I could almost picture the smile on his face, and it made me smile in return. His words seemed more benign over the phone, starkly contrasting the intensity of our recent encounters. “Save my spot.”

The car was beginning to fill up, Friday night revelers claiming their space, making it nearly impossible to save a seat. I promised I’d try, even as I felt the crushing inevitability of the crowd. His chuckle was soft, almost intimate. 

“Thank you, sweet girl.”

I bit my lip, the endearment both flattering and unsettling. A tiny voice in my head cautioned me, even though Hoseok had never used his terms of affection demeaningly. The voice grew louder when he wasn’t around, whispering warnings I couldn’t entirely dismiss. It was strange, this constant inner debate.

“I’m going to hang up,” Hoseok said, his voice a sensual murmur. I moved the phone away from my ear, puzzled by the seductive undertone. Was he implying something more?

Was I expecting more from tonight?

“I’m running up my minutes,” he laughed, breaking the spell of my thoughts.

“Oh,” I blinked, snapping out of my reverie. “Sorry. See you in a bit.”

The recurring dreams of him were becoming a distraction. My nights were plagued with vivid, unsettling fantasies, leaving me restless and frazzled. I wiggled in my seat, pressing my thighs together to quell the unsettling arousal. Reality would surely disappoint, no matter how compelling he seemed in my dreams. I resolved to hold off on sex for now. I didn’t want to tarnish his allure with premature intimacy.

“Why did you want to be a doctor?” Hoseok asked, his fingers entwining with mine.

The wine started hitting, and the night air was crisp against my skin. Hoseok was the perfect gentleman; the evening was a beautiful respite from my routine. I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, and sighed.

“I wish I could say it was for noble reasons,” I said, my voice tinged with melancholy. “In truth, I just wanted my family to notice me. I thought graduating medical school would make them see me, but it never quite worked out that way.”

Hoseok hummed thoughtfully beside me. I turned my gaze away, feeling a strange mix of comfort and sadness.

“None of us are perfect,” he said after a pause, his voice low and contemplative. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, and my choices haven’t always been noble.”

I leaned closer, savoring his warmth and intoxicating scent. Despite my fatigue, the night felt lighter, almost magical. He was mesmerizing, and I was drawn to him in a way I hadn’t expected. 

“I have a hard time believing that,” I said with a soft grin, snuggling closer.

“Well,” he said, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into his side. “You haven’t had me all to yourself yet.”

A shiver ran down my spine, a curious blend of fear and delight. The night had been a rollercoaster of emotions—enchantment and apprehension intertwined. Hoseok’s smile was disarming, melting away my unease, but I made a mental note to reflect on my feelings once I was alone. He seemed almost too perfect, and that nagging pit in my stomach grew again before vanishing. 

“I don’t want the night to end,” Hoseok whispered, his breath warm against my ear as we waited for the train. “I’m having such a good time.”

I smiled, “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine longing.

“Soon,” I promised. “I’m getting the next few weekends off now that the other fellowship student is starting. My supervisor is trying to get me off every Saturday.”

“It’s a good thing my boss is flexible,” Hoseok purred, causing my heart to race. “Otherwise, I’d never get to spend time with you.”

I wanted to be annoyed by his clinginess, to remind him I wasn’t his girlfriend, but instead, I found myself grinning. His words made me feel seen and appreciated. Despite the anxiety he sometimes stirred in me, I was eager to be close to him. He looked at me so intently that I was willing to overlook my reservations. Maybe it was just butterflies?

“Where do you work?” I asked, trying to divert my thoughts.

Hoseok was a bartender at a speakeasy in Manhattan, where he’d worked since it opened. He had hinted at it throughout the evening, teasing me with its obscurity. 

“It’s a smaller place,” he said amusedly. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“Try me,” I challenged, my heart pounding strangely.

“Dauphine.”

The name hit me like a jolt. Images of dimly lit corridors and crimson hues flashed in my mind. I was sure I’d never been there, but the name stirred a disquieting sense of déjà vu. The dream from July, the man from my dreams—there was a connection, but it eluded me. 

As we stood in the bustling, well-lit area, I edged away slightly, unsettled. Hoseok was a charming gentleman, but the name “Dauphine” had ignited an inexplicable dread. Despite his humor and warmth, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something—or maybe I was just afraid of what I might find.

I stole a furtive glance at him, and it felt as though I’d known him far longer than the scant time we’d spent together. His face was oddly familiar, like a recurring image in a dream half-remembered. I had met him before, somewhere.

“No, you haven’t,” his voice cut through the night like ice. It was cold, detached, far from the warmth he’d shown me all evening. A shiver snaked down my spine, and I forgot to breathe. His grip on me tightened as though sensing my legs would buckle beneath me. “You’ve never known me before.”

The fierce scowl on his face startled me. His eyes, glowing with an eerie golden light, seemed to burn through me. Everything about him felt otherworldly like he was something less than human. A fragmented memory of a man sitting alone at a bar surged up, only to dissolve into nothingness.

“I am Hoseok,” he whispered, his voice weaving a heavy spell over my senses. “I am your boyfriend. We’ve been together a long time, and we’re in love. You just tripped and hit your head.”

A sudden jolt of pain made me wince and try to pull away from him. 

“Does it hurt?” His voice was deceptively tender, and I sighed through the pain.

“Yes,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead. “Does it look bad?”

Hoseok’s grin was unsettling, a blend of fake sympathy and amusement. 

“You were lucky this time. Just a barely noticeable red mark.”

I chuckled at my own clumsiness. I wasn’t usually this awkward, but my heel caught on a pavement crack. I gingerly rubbed my ankle and was relieved to find it unscathed. Even my heel had survived.

“Jeez,” I said, looping my arm through his. “I completely forgot what we were talking about.”

Hoseok’s smile broadened, clearly enjoying my disoriented state. I rolled my eyes and reached over to gently tap his chest. He responded by sticking out his tongue, which only made me scoff at his childishness.

“We were talking about work,” I said.

I nodded as if on autopilot. “How’s the bar?”

Hoseok worked at a swanky speakeasy in Manhattan, though I was trying to remember its name. Despite being together for what felt like ages, I had never been there. I was never one for bars, while Hoseok reveled in the place��s gothic charm. The name eluded me again as I tried to recall it.

“Tae’s excited,” he chuckled. “With Halloween around the corner, business will pick up.”

I hummed, my thoughts still lingering on the name. I had thought his boss was Tristan, but I must have misremembered. I shrugged off the nagging thought.

“You should stop by the bar,” I heard myself say, sounding oddly mechanical.

“Sounds fun,” he replied, his tone laced with a predatory edge.

Looking back on that night, it’s almost laughable how easily he swayed me. The way he possessed me was undeniable; soon, he would own every inch of me. Those dreams of him were his twisted way of showing love—how much he craved to touch me, to keep me bound to him. It’s sick and vile, and the thought of what we’d become makes me nauseous, yet to him, it’s love. 

“Let’s get you home,” he said, his arm wrapping possessively around my shoulders.

I remember leaning into his side, kissing his cheek as if I was floating. His presence was intoxicating. Even now, I can feel the ghost of his touch and his body's heat. It’s a twisted sort of longing I have for him. This place is cold and dark without him, without his reminders of how much he cares and wants me to scream for him. Here, time stands still, and life continues in a strange loop. I can’t say whether I’m alive or dead, but I know it no longer matters. Once I entered this world, my life ended and began anew. Hoseok made me feel both alive and dead simultaneously.

And as I write this, my heart aches for him. My fingers tremble at the thought of him returning to claim me again. The pain he inflicts makes my heart pound and my stomach clench. I miss him.

It both sickens and excites me.

October 19, 1997

My bones groaned and cracked like ancient floorboards beneath my weight as I fought to catch my breath. Sweat slicked my skin, and I began patting myself down, half-expecting to find something tangible to anchor me to reality. My surroundings slowly came into focus. The harsh fluorescent lights above stung my eyes, but their sterile brightness offered an odd comfort. I was at home, cocooned in thick blankets that had twisted themselves around my legs. The bed beneath me creaked with the effort of supporting my restless form. I sighed, flopping back down, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that still clung to me like a shadow.

The dreams had become relentless, evolving from vague echoes of past terrors into something far more insidious. These weren't fueled by mere fear but by an overwhelming, consuming desire that felt dangerously close to swallowing me whole. The weekends were the worst, and after seeing Hoseok, they had turned almost infernal. He was always there in my dreams, his skin smooth and flawless, his deep brown eyes burning into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air.

Every time I closed my eyes, his image flickered behind my eyelids like a dark, seductive film. The scenes always ended the same way: I would climax, my body convulsing in a fevered rhythm, while I looked up to see his face contorted in ecstasy. His deep, guttural groans would reverberate through me as his grip tightened on my skin. He would finish inside me, and my spent body would collapse beneath him. He would drape himself over me, showering my chest with tender, lingering kisses. The setting varied—my bed, a chilling, unfamiliar void, or a dimly lit lounge—but the conclusion was always the same.

With a sigh, I fumbled for my phone, my fingers brushing the cool surface. An email from Hoseok awaited me, and a smile crept across my face despite the haze of exhaustion. He was the epitome of a perfect gentleman—never pushing beyond my boundaries, never demanding more than I was willing to give, always accommodating his schedule to mine. Even in matters of intimacy, something many men would aggressively pursue, he always respected my pace. In the hectic blur of the past month, we hadn’t had a moment alone. He hadn’t even broached the topic. As I thought about it, I couldn't recall the last time we'd been intimate outside of these dreams.

From: Hoseok Jung Subject: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 03:05   To: Y/N Y/L/N Good morning, love, I'm sorry for the early message, especially since this is one of your rare mornings off. I hope I didn't wake you. I'm heading home from work and couldn't stop thinking about you. Taehyung is throwing a simple Halloween party this year, and luckily, it falls on a Friday. Would you like to join me? I think it could be a lot of fun. I love you. Hobi

I grinned and began typing my reply.

From: Y/N Y/L/N Subject: RE: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 04:15  To: Hoseok Jung Hobi, Don't worry, you didn't wake me. I was tangled up in strange dreams and was deep asleep when your email arrived. Sadly, I doubt I'll fall back asleep anytime soon, so I plan on catching up on Buffy or Beyond Belief—whichever's on. Hopefully, I won't get stuck with reruns of Seinfeld, not really my thing. Lucky for me, I'm working mornings this week. I'd love to come to your party. Call me when you wake up. Love you, too. Y/N Y/L/N, M.D.   Palliative Care Physician, New York-Presbyterian Hospital

It barely registered that, to my knowledge, I had never said "I love you" to him before. I had never really pondered the oddity of our relationship. My memories of our time together were a disorienting blur, but I never questioned it. It wasn't entirely my fault—he had ensnared me, body and soul, and any unresolved threads might make it harder for him to maintain control. Regardless of our tangled history or how elusive it seemed; I was simply glad he wanted to see me at that moment.

I lay huddled in my bed, my body a coiled spring of anticipation, each nerve ending tingling with the foreboding that had stalked me all day. His voice had been a persistent whisper, a sultry hum that turned my name into a haunting lullaby. It was a melody wrapped in an insatiable longing, a caress of words that promised more than I dared to imagine.

Tonight, I wanted to resist. I tried to muster the strength to ignore the insidious pull, that relentless tug drawing me toward him like a moth to a flame. The very idea of defying him churned my stomach with a nauseous dread. But the threads of his influence were woven so tightly around me, it felt like trying to escape from silken chains.

Then it came, cutting through the murkiness of my thoughts like a scythe. His voice, now sharper, more insistent, shattered the fragile veneer of my resistance.

“Y/N. Come to me now.”

With a sudden jolt, the pretense of defiance evaporated. I threw off the blankets as if they were chains, leaping out of bed and flying through the darkened hallway. My feet barely touched the ground as I hurtled down the stairs, each step propelled by an unrelenting force, dragging me inexorably toward him.

He waited for me in the foyer, bathed in an eerie glow that made him look like an apparition from a fevered dream—or perhaps a nightmare. His smile was both welcoming and chilling, a promise wrapped in malice. When he took my hand, his lips brushed against my fingers with a cool, electric touch that set my entire body aflame.

The intensity of my reaction embarrassed me, but he tilted my face up to meet his gaze, shaking his head with a look of almost pity.

“Your blood knows what it wants, my lamb. You must let your mind follow.”

My face burned with fierce heat, but the compulsion pulling me to him was too overpowering to resist. He guided me through the meticulously manicured gardens to a secluded alcove framed by dense, sculpted hedges. He seated himself on a bench, drawing me onto his lap with a practiced grace that made me feel both cherished and helpless. His eyes, dark and unfathomable, never left mine, promising secrets I couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“Are you ready, my lamb?”

Without a second thought, I bared my neck to him. The desperate craving for the bliss and torment of his bite had consumed me completely; waiting was no longer an option.

He lingered, his tongue tracing a tantalizing path along the delicate skin of my throat. The sensation was almost unbearable, and I found myself begging with a voice that sounded alien, strained.

“Please.”

And then he bit.

I shot awake, my heart a frantic drum in my chest. I had fallen asleep hunched over my desk at the hospital, my neck stiff from the awkward angle. Rubbing away the ache, I cursed the book that had plagued me with such vivid nightmares. I needed to talk to my brother again; this couldn’t be anything but a cruel trick of the mind.

The glowing digits on my alarm clock mocked me with their late hour. I stood up, stretching and feeling my heartbeat slowly return to normal. I changed into a t-shirt and shuffled toward the bed, determined to banish the lingering unease.

As I passed the window, something froze me in place. I looked down into the parking lot and saw him standing under a flickering lamppost, his gaze locked onto mine with a predatory intensity that made my blood run cold.

It was Hoseok—or at least, it looked like him. But the resemblance was grotesquely twisted. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, a sickly luminescence that cut through the night like a malevolent beacon. His skin was peeling away in ragged strips, as if he were shedding himself like a decaying husk. This was no longer my Hoseok. He was a creature of nightmares, a monster forged from my darkest fears.

My fingers clung to the windowsill as I stared, my body paralyzed by the overwhelming urge to run to him, to give in to the magnetic pull of his presence. I watched as his lips moved, shaping a single word that seemed to echo through the chill of the night.

“Soon.”

I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the vision to vanish. When I opened them again, the parking lot was empty, the lamppost casting its pallid light over a sea of unmoving cars. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, snatched my blanket and pillow, and stumbled back to the on-call room, desperate to escape the sinister call that still haunted the dark corners of my mind.

October 28, 1997

"What should I do?" the nurse asked, her name slipping from my mind like a shadow lost in the night.

"Give them some space," I replied, my gaze fixed resolutely away from the room across the hall. Elizabeth had just passed away, her DNR a cold, ironclad barrier that left no room for last-ditch efforts. Her family needed their final moments with her while we waited for the body to be transported. Mary was still wailing into her husband's chest, and Elijah looked like he'd been dragged through a storm, barely able to stand. Percy stood like a marble statue, his eyes glazed over while his wife clung to him. The sight of Percy’s frozen, unseeing expression twisted my gut in a way I couldn’t ignore. It reminded me too much of what I feared—and I needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere of grief.

"Should we get them out of the room?" another nurse asked, her thick southern drawl hinting at Memphis. "Seeing her like that can’t be good for their mental well-being."

I shook my head. "Let them have their last moments in peace. Offer condolences and check on them regularly."

I fiddled nervously with my ID card, the familiar unease gnawing at me. My wounds from the day seemed too fresh. Miles surfaced in my thoughts again, and I resolved to call my brother on my way home tonight. Hoseok wasn’t working tonight, so he wouldn’t join me on the subway.

"I'm going to check in with 211," I murmured, watching Percy leave the room, clutching his phone like a lifeline. "I’ll be back in 5-10 minutes to see if the family needs anything. Just make them as comfortable as you can."

"You got it, doc."

The subway ride home was a silent affair. My headache throbbed like a relentless drum, and my stomach churned uneasily. The day had been heavy with more deaths than usual. Elizabeth’s family had eventually calmed down, but their kindness on their way out hadn’t eased the knot in my chest. I knew their pain intimately.

I called my brother as I made my way to the subway. Despite his complicated feelings about our mother, he was always supportive. The conversation ended abruptly when Aurora entered the room, demanding his attention. Miles had never truly understood my emotions; I doubted he ever tried.

The short walk home from the subway was a blessing, though the cold night air bit at my skin. I was grateful for the proximity of my apartment, but the streets were alive with noise—tourists laughing, gang members shouting outside their apartment complexes. I was relieved to escape the chaos, though my street wasn’t entirely free of foot traffic. My old apartment in East Harlem had been more of a hustle, with late-night carpooling with a coworker whose name eluded me. I knew it started with an 'A,' but the memory only worsened my headache. I set the thought aside for another time.

After selling the family home in Florida and vacation properties scattered across the country, I’d managed to buy a house on Astro Row at 100th and 30th Street. It was an old building—too expensive for its size, and initially, it seemed far from beautiful. But over time, it grew on me. I loved the brownstones, the front porches, the grand trees, and the quiet streets. I couldn’t imagine leaving. Even the renovations I’d planned were postponed. The charm of the old place had won me over, and I’d made peace with its quirks. I even got along with my neighbor, a small but welcome relief.

Tonight was quieter than usual, and none of my neighbors seemed awake. I missed the old man at the end of the street who used to sit on his porch, sipping coffee and waiting for dawn. It was nearly 4:30 AM. I shrugged and continued; my mind focused on the comfort of my bed.

Fumbling for my keys, I cursed quietly when my pockets were empty. My purse, a cavernous mess of clutter, swallowed everything. As I dug through it, a sudden burst of laughter behind me made me freeze. Two women strolled down the sidewalk, their laughter echoing off the walls. They were both stunning, their pale skin glowing under the moonlight. One of them locked eyes with me, her gaze piercing through the darkness. She looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew me.

"Hello," she said, her voice as light and tinkling as a bell.

"Hi," I replied, feeling strangely off-balance.

The other woman seemed perplexed. Her beauty was almost ethereal, with blonde hair as pale as her skin and eyes as dark as night. Her gaze swept over me with an unmistakable disdain, her teeth bared in a slight sneer. Yet, despite her apparent coldness, she was undeniably beautiful.

"How are you?" the first woman asked, her voice soothing.

"Fine," I responded, my throat dry. "And you?"

The nagging headache intensified as I tried to make sense of the encounter, a sense of déjà vu wrapping around me like a tightening noose. The women moved on, their laughter fading into the night, leaving me with a lingering unease that clung to me like the shadows of my dreams.

She studied me, her face a shifting canvas of emotions before settling into a look of genuine confusion. I tried to place her but struggled. There was something crucial I needed to remember, something just out of reach, but my mind remained stubbornly blank. A frantic urge to call Hoseok seized me.

The realization hit me like a cold slap. Why did I think I needed him? I tried to convince myself I could handle this alone. But deep down, I knew I needed him here. He could make this headache vanish, soothe the gnawing anxiety that had taken root in my chest. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

“What's your name?” she asked, her smile both disarming and unsettling, making my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm.

“Y/N,” I replied, feeling dazed and disconnected.

“Cold night, Y/N,” she purred, her gaze never wavering. “You should get inside.”

I nodded absently, my words failing me as I fumbled with my keys. The blonde woman's giggle, filled with an eerie excitement, made me shiver. I wanted to retreat, to escape this strange encounter. I shoved the key into the lock, eager to shut out the unsettling night.

“Y/N,” the first woman’s voice halted me, her tone chillingly smooth. Neither of them had moved since they stopped. The blonde’s smile remained fixed, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet the other woman’s eyes. “Be careful out here. You never know who’s wandering around.”

I nodded, turning the doorknob, but her voice stopped me again.

“I work at a bar in Midtown,” she said, her words snagging my attention like a hook. I had always known she worked at a bar, but why was it important? “It’s called Dauphine. Ever heard of it?”

Yes, I wanted to say. That place haunted my nightmares, a dark shadow that clung to the edges of my memory. But I couldn’t piece together why. Hoseok would know. He’d make everything better. No, my mind screamed—he’d only make it worse. I couldn’t say how I knew this, but I wanted to listen to the little voice inside me tonight. Something was very wrong.

“You should come by sometime,” she offered. “We’re on 1st and East 54th in the far corner of the Diamond District. If you need anything, just ask for ‘Bootsy.’”

Bootsy…

“Are you okay with cherry liquor?” she asked.

I let go of the doorknob and turned to face them fully. I couldn’t meet either of their eyes. The sensation was all too familiar. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the answer I didn’t want to hear.

“Do you know Hoseok? He’s my boyfriend.”

The blonde hissed sharply. Bootsy gasped, her face a mask of surprise and something darker, more shadowy. It was clear that Hoseok was connected to these people, tangled up with my memories of New York, the root of all my confusion. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

No, I shook my head. Was that what he wanted me to believe? I wasn’t sure anymore.

“Yes,” Bootsy finally replied. “I’ve known him for many, many years.”

Before I could second-guess myself, I slammed the door shut and locked it. The blonde finally moved, stepping away from Bootsy and muttering something I couldn’t catch. She disappeared down the street, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

“What’s wrong with me?” I muttered through the door, my voice tinged with desperation.

Bootsy’s response came through with a sorrowful edge. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, my headache pounding with such intensity that I could barely keep my eyes open. “It’s him, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s like I remember things but not really, and everything goes blank every time he’s around.”

Bootsy’s eyes, a deep crimson, darted around nervously. They seemed to glow faintly, like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, glossy and sleek. Bootsy wasn’t human. What she was, I couldn’t say. But she was somehow tied to the nightmares that plagued me, and Hoseok’s shadow loomed larger than ever.

“He’s a demon,” she whispered hurriedly, her words laced with a fear that seemed almost tangible. “I can’t tell you exactly what he’s done. I’ve never known him to keep someone around for this long, but whatever you’ve done to make him want you seems to have spared your life. You should have died back in ’92 with your friend.”

A friend? Someone else had been involved? Hoseok was a demon? The fragments Bootsy offered were like pieces of a shattered mirror, reflecting a reality I could barely grasp. I believed her, though. I had no reason not to. My memories felt like they were being twisted, distorted by Hoseok’s manipulations.

Then I thought of the creature outside of the hospital and felt my knees go numb. I hadn't hallucinated anything. It was real. It was him. Oh my God.

“We can’t talk for long,” she said, a look of pained urgency on her face. “He won’t sleep for much longer.”

“What can I do?” I begged, clutching my head as if I could squeeze out the pain. It was unbearable. “God, it hurts.”

“Nothing,” Bootsy’s voice trembled. “Hoseok wants you, and he’s never lost a game. It doesn’t matter where you go or what you do; he will win. Whatever you’ve been doing has kept you alive this long, but I don’t know how much time you have left.”

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me and dragging me under. I had been a pawn in Hoseok’s twisted game, my life manipulated by his cruel whims. What did he want from me? My body? My soul? The realization was suffocating.

“Go to Dauphine and find Taehyung,” Bootsy instructed, her voice carrying a chilling finality despite its almost maternal tone. “He had a soft spot for you back then. If you’re lucky, he might be able to change you, make you like us. That might be enough to satisfy Hoseok.”

Taehyung. The name cut through the fog in my mind like a beacon, easing the throbbing in my head, if only for a moment. He had haunted my dreams, his image vivid: a white button-up shirt, his gentle hands, his voice firm yet tender, saying he didn’t want to share me. He had left me in that bar, but the details were fuzzy—how or why I had ended up there was a blur. All I knew was that I was lost, and he had once been my guide.

She paused, her eyes darkening with a weighty empathy. “You’d be luckier if Taehyung agrees to end your life before the demon does. I wouldn’t wish this half-life on anyone, nor would I be glad to see you die, but those are your choices. I can’t guarantee you’ll make it through this.”

“What happened in ’92?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, thick with desperation.

Bootsy shook her head, her expression darkening with sorrow. “He killed your friend and tried to lure you away. That's all I know, and I don't have time to explain the rest. The sun’s about to rise, and your demon will be waiting for you to fall asleep. Don’t fight it. Let it happen. If he knows you’re aware of him, he might decide to kill you.”

It felt wrong to just let it happen. What would this mean for me in the end? Would knowing about his influence change anything? I couldn’t be sure, but if I wanted to buy myself time, I had no choice but to take the risk. I needed answers, a plan, anything to regain control.

“Y/N,” Bootsy’s urgent voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Your memories won't come back unless he wants them to. Let it go. Either way you'll be dead.”

With those final, haunting words, Bootsy vanished as quickly as she had appeared. The weight of my predicament pressed heavily on my shoulders, my impending doom looming like a dark cloud. I stumbled back to the porch, unlocked the front door, and sought refuge in the sanctuary of my bed. Bootsy’s grim mantra echoed in my mind as I tried to push aside my troubling thoughts about Hoseok, grappling with the uncertainty that lay ahead.

He appeared to me then, in a vision that was both intoxicating and horrifying. His eyes sparkled with a predatory thrill, his touch setting my skin ablaze, igniting waves of pleasure that crashed over me with ruthless intensity. His worship was ceaseless, his lips warm and insistent, as if trying to devour every shred of my resistance. I was swallowed by him, lost in a whirlwind of passion that twisted the love I once felt (at least, I believed I felt) into something darker, more insidious. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

Bootsy’s words had struck me like a death knell, sealing my fate in an irreversible descent. She had unwittingly set my downfall into motion, transforming innocent affection into a ravenous lust that consumed every corner of my mind. When I awoke late in the evening, the decision to call off work for the rest of the week came with a grim resignation. The struggle to stay awake was in vain; it was becoming starkly clear how deeply Hoseok’s control had embedded itself within me. The inevitable was no longer a distant threat—it had already begun to unfold, dragging me into its dark embrace.

October 31, 1997

I tugged nervously at my skirt, my fingers trembling despite the cool night air that should have been a relief. The address that had arrived this morning was burned into my mind, glaring at me from the top of the paper—Dauphine, the bar Bootsy had mentioned. My plans were clear: find Bootsy, get directions, speak with this Taehyung, and figure out my options. But the gnawing truth was unavoidable—no matter what I did, it felt like my life was already slipping through my fingers.

Sleep deprivation had become my relentless tormentor. My eyelids felt heavy, weighted down by leaden exhaustion, and my attempts to feign illness to dodge work had morphed into a grim reality. It was a battle to stay awake each day, and I feared that simply making it to this bar would be a Herculean task.

I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to adjust the wig perched precariously on my head. I’d opted for a lazy Halloween costume—a half-hearted Cher from *Clueless*. The yellow plaid blazer was a thrift store find, the skirt a serendipitous discovery. But the wig made me look more like a grotesque caricature than a character. Frustrated, I yanked it off and tossed it onto the floor. I’d have to go without it.

Yawning, I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse back into bed. My cab was on its way, and I had to be ready. I gathered my essentials—purse, house keys, phone, and a spare outfit—preparing for a night that could very well be my last. I steeled myself for the confrontation, even if it felt like a hopeless, losing battle.

My daily struggle with myself had turned into a monotonous grind. My feigned illness had kept Hoseok at a distance, but it had only given me more time to spiral into despair over his influence. My mind was a battleground, where fragments of my past life clashed with the twisted desires he’d implanted in me. Every morning, I awoke to a gnawing need, a desperate craving for him that left me feeling sullied and repulsed.

I stepped outside and drew a shaky breath of the crisp night air. Calling my brother was both a comfort and a torment. There was a chance this could be the last time I spoke to him, and the thought tightened my chest like a vise. I fought back tears as I dialed his number.

“Hello?” Miles answered, his voice warm and familiar.

“Hey,” I forced a cheerful tone, though it felt hollow. “Still out Trick-or-Treating?”

“We just got back,” he said. “Rory wants to talk to you.”

My heart ached at the sound of my niece’s voice. “Hi, Auntie,” she said, her voice sweet as ever. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” I sniffled, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Aurora’s excitement was a bright spot in my darkness. “I was Katerina, mommy was Miss Elaina, and daddy was Daniel Tiger.”

“That sounds amazing,” I wiped away my tears. “What about your baby brother?”

Aurora’s voice took on a scolding tone. “His name is Corbin, Auntie,” she said as though I should have known better. “He’s still in mommy’s belly, so he wasn’t anything. Mommy’s giving him candy.”

I laughed, though it was tinged with sadness. “How’s your mommy?”

“She says ‘Hi,’” Aurora replied. “We got the best candy! A lady was giving out big Starbursts. Daddy’s letting me have all the pink ones because I’m special.”

“You are special, sweet girl.”

A painful thought intruded—would Hoseok make them forget me if I asked him? The idea was almost too agonizing to bear. He’d kept me alive for five years, a perverse form of flattery that I struggled to appreciate. My self-loathing deepened as I thought about the life I was about to leave behind.

“Daddy says I have to go,” Aurora pouted. “Bye, Auntie.”

“Bye, Rory girl,” I choked out, my voice cracking as the tears welled up. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Aurora’s sweet voice drifted through the line, a beacon of innocence in my storm of dread.

I gasped, the floodgates opening as I fought to keep my composure. “Impossible,” I managed to whisper, my throat tight with sorrow.

“Why?” she giggled, her innocent curiosity slicing through my resolve.

“Because,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “I love you more than the world.”

Aurora’s laughter began to fade as she handed the phone back to Miles. The sound of her giggles and her mother’s laughter echoed in the background, a cruel reminder of the life I was about to lose. My heart clenched painfully at the thought of never hearing those sounds again.

“What’s up, sissy?” Miles asked, his tone tinged with concern.

“I was just heading out,” I said, forcing a tremulous cheerfulness into my voice. “Thought I’d call before my cab gets here. I’m leaving a little early.”

There was a heavy pause on the other end, a silence that spoke louder than words.

“Everything okay, Y/N? You sound upset.”

“No, no,” I hurried to reassure him, biting my lip to keep from sobbing. “Just tired. You know how it is.”

“You sure?” Miles pressed, his concern palpable. He was always too perceptive for his own good, but he never pushed too hard. I hoped he wouldn’t miss me too much.

“I’m positive, Bubba,” I said, my eyes darting to the cab pulling up to the curb. “My ride’s here. I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. Call me later?”

“I’ll try to remember in the morning,” I said, attempting to sound upbeat despite the crushing weight in my chest. “I know it’s late for you guys.”

I closed my phone with shaking hands and stuffed it into my purse, the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. The cab driver approached, his face a blur through my tears.

“Where to?” he asked, his voice a lifeline in the growing storm of my fear.

“1st and East 54th in the Diamond District,” I replied, offering a weak, strained smile.

“Dauphine?” The driver’s eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror, a hint of something unsettling in his gaze. “Ever been there before?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, trying to steady my breath. “I don’t remember it all that well. Guess I had too much fun last time.”

“Watch yourself,” the driver said, turning on the radio with a slow, deliberate movement. “That place is crawling with freaks.”

“Welcome to New York,” I muttered, more to myself than him.

He chuckled, his voice a touch too jovial. “Been here my whole life. My name’s Jimin. Call me if you need a getaway driver.”

The car rumbled with the low hum of R&B, Jimin fiddling with the radio as if trying to mask the creeping anxiety that gnawed at my insides. I mouthed the lyrics, trying to drown out the terror that threatened to consume me.

My thoughts were a twisted mess of fear and longing. The image of Hoseok, tainted by his manipulation, flickered through my mind. The desire to escape him was overpowered by the suffocating grip of my own confusion. Taehyung was my last, desperate hope—a fleeting chance at redemption. But deep down, a gnawing realization settled in I was already damned, teetering on the edge with no way back.

The mantra echoed relentlessly in my head: I miss him, love him, and need him…

I was spiraling, caught in a web of my own making, and the thought of facing what awaited me at Dauphine was almost too much to bear.

“We’re here,” Jimin's voice cut through the thick fog of dread that enveloped me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I muttered, my fingers trembling as I fumbled with the cash. I handed him a generous tip, a feeble attempt to cling to some semblance of normalcy.

The alleyway stretched before me, a grim path between the upscale buildings of the Diamond District. It looked less menacing than I’d imagined, but its familiarity offered no comfort. Dim street lamps cast weak pools of light that barely touched the encroaching darkness. I hoped—prayed—that Hoseok wasn’t already here. The fading daylight gave me just enough visibility to navigate, and the murmur of voices outside the bar was a small, shaky comfort. I clung to the hope that these voices belonged to ordinary people, potential witnesses if I needed to make a quick escape.

As I approached, the group of people outside fell silent. My stomach churned violently, and bile rose in my throat, threatening to spill. I couldn’t bring myself to turn and face them; their gaze was almost a physical presence, making my skin crawl even though I never looked directly at them. A low, sinister snicker from one of them sent a shiver down my spine, amplifying my fear. I hadn’t even seen their faces, yet their mere presence was enough to make me quake.

The bouncer at the gate eyed me with a scrutinizing glare.

“Password,” he demanded, his voice flat and unyielding.

“I-” I stammered, my mind racing to recall the password Hoseok had given me. “Audubon.”

The gate creaked open, and I slipped past the security guard, my heart pounding like a drum. Despite my nervous bravado, the bouncer’s indifference did little to soothe me. Once inside, I felt a fleeting sense of relief, escaping the unsettling stares.

I gripped my bag tightly, knuckles white, and started searching for the bar. The interior was starkly underwhelming—plush couches and private booths scattered haphazardly, with red neon signs pointing to the restrooms. The oppressive red and black color scheme was heavy, but thankfully devoid of any overtly horrific scenes. I had no desire for strobe lights or dance floors; the thought of walking into a trap was more than enough to keep me on edge.

Navigating through the dimly lit space, I felt like I was moving through a maze. The long hallway ahead seemed to stretch into an abyss, the darkness intensifying with each step. The oppressive gloom and the eerie silence made my nerves jangle. The jazz music that had been softly playing in the background had faded, leaving me in a disquieting void.

At the end of the hall, the emptiness was almost a relief. The silence was oppressive but meant I wasn’t walking into a room full of hostile eyes. Perhaps this was how I’d met Bootsy—wandering aimlessly until she had found me and guided me out.

The bar seemed to stretch on forever, an architectural labyrinth that added to my growing sense of dread. I held my breath as the walls seemed to close in, my anxiety a tangible weight pressing against my chest. The high ceilings and claustrophobic spaces combined to create a sensation of being trapped. My heels clicked sharply against the linoleum, the sound echoing eerily in the silence. The place felt more like a mausoleum than a bar. Every step heightened my unease, and the hairs on my neck stood on end as I glanced around, trying to ignore the creeping terror that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice trembling as it cut through the oppressive silence. “Is anybody here?”

The sudden sound of a voice behind me made me jump, my heart racing as I spun around with a gasp that morphed into a shriek. My balance faltered, and I slammed into the wall, scraping my arm against the rough surface. The sharp sting of pain was immediate and searing. I clutched my injured arm, the pain and the shock making my vision blur. I turned to face the figure who had startled me.

He stood there, his white button-down shirt contrasting sharply with the dim surroundings. His tall, lean frame was framed by broad shoulders, and his long fingers seemed to move with an effortless grace. But it was his smile that made my blood run cold—a wide, boxy grin that stretched unnaturally across his face, his eyes glinting with a mischievous, unsettling light.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice dripping with a smooth, honeyed tone. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I glared at him, struggling to steady my breathing and regain my composure. “It’s fine. It didn’t kill me, did it?”

He chuckled softly; a sound that felt more sinister than soothing. “You’re bleeding,” he said, his gaze dropping to my arm.

I looked down and saw blood seeping through a tear in my blazer. The sight of my own blood was like a cruel reminder of my vulnerability. The pain, combined with the sight of my blood, pushed me to the edge. My hands shook as I raised them to my face, tears welling up uncontrollably. The enormity of my situation crashed down on me like a tidal wave. Everything felt chaotic; my life had been turned upside down, and the relentless pounding in my head was unbearable. I should have stayed home. At least Hoseok’s presence, while twisted, had been a semblance of comfort.

The despair was suffocating.

“Are you okay, sha?” His voice was soft, but his touch on my arm was disconcertingly gentle.

I laughed, a hollow, despairing sound. “Does it look like it?”

“No, you look upset,” he replied, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mixture of sympathy and amusement.

“You don’t say?” I snapped, rolling my eyes and jerking my arm away from his touch.

Despite my evident distress, he remained unnervingly calm, his smile lingering like a dark shadow. His pleasure at my discomfort was unsettling, and the aura around him felt eerily similar to the disquieting presence of those outside. His attractiveness was overshadowed by a deeply disturbing quality that made me want to flee. It was as if fear had paralyzed me, pinning me in place.

Suddenly, a chilling realization hit me. As I forced myself to examine his face more closely, I recognized him from the shadows of my past. He was strikingly beautiful in a haunting way, like Bootsy. His pale skin was almost luminescent, and his eyes, once hidden in the darkness, now revealed flecks of red that seemed to glow with a menacing, otherworldly light. They were mesmerizing yet horrifying, a dangerous allure that made my skin crawl. The spell he cast was broken as quickly as it had begun, and I struggled to look him in the eye again.

“You’re looking for me, aren’t you?” His voice was a silky whisper that seemed to wrap around me, tightening with a sinister intent.

Embarrassed by my earlier outburst, I nodded slowly. My hope of finding help felt increasingly elusive as the night grew darker and more menacing. All I wanted was to escape, but the hope that things might improve clung stubbornly to me. Taehyung exuded a disorienting blend of warmth and menace, a mix of comfort and dread that left me feeling more lost than ever.

“I’m sorry for being snappy,” I said, my voice quivering as I wiped away a tear. “I don’t remember you all that well.” 

Or at all, my mind whispered in the encroaching darkness. The more I looked at him, the more I felt Hoseok’s oppressive influence tugging at my thoughts. Images of Hoseok’s touch, his voice, his eyes—each one flared in my mind with an insidious intensity. He misses you; he loves you, he needs you…

“Requiem was wrong,” Taehyung murmured, his fingers chillingly cold as they cradled my face. “You’re too far gone.”

“Who?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling and my head spinning. His touch was both numbing and intoxicating.

“Bootsy,” he cooed, his breath a mix of cotton and sweet pine needles. “She said you had a chance, but she was mistaken. My friend has already completed the bond.”

“W-what?” I whispered, dazed and confused. The throbbing ache in my head resonated with Taehyung’s presence. “What bond?”

“Maybe not,” he whispered, his proximity making my pulse race.

When his lips met mine, they were like ice, yet the jolt of electricity that surged through me made my knees buckle. His laughter was dark and twisted as he wrapped an arm around my waist, his tongue brushing against my lips. I mewled, clutching his shoulders as the electric sensation overwhelmed me. His groan sent shivers through my entire body, and the echo of Hoseok’s voice in my head was relentless. He misses you, he loves you, he needs you…

Suddenly, I shoved Taehyung away, gasping for air as a searing pain exploded in my head. It felt as if a sledgehammer had struck my temple. My vision swam, and I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably.

“Poor child,” Taehyung crooned, kneeling beside me. His scent, soothing yet oddly comforting, did little to ease the tremors wracking my body. “I’m so sorry, but I cannot help you.”

“I’m going to die,” I sobbed, my voice cracking under the weight of my despair.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “The pain will lessen once you accept it; accept him.”

“What does he want?” I managed to choke out.

“Can’t you see?” Taehyung’s eyes glittered ominously in the dim light. “He believes he’s in love with you. It’s a pity, really. I want nothing more than to keep you, but I can’t risk angering him. He would destroy Requiem for revealing his secrets; she is my most cherished friend. Do you understand?”

Numbly, I nodded. I’m going to die. I miss him. I’m going to die. He loves you. I’m going to die. I need him. I’m going to die. I love him. He needs you. I’m—

“Your eyes look just like his,” Taehyung marveled, his gaze softening. “He’s bound to you in a way I’ve never seen before.”

As I stared at Taehyung, my vision began to blur, and the voices in my head whispered louder in the dark corners of my mind. Their weight pressed down on me, my eyes rolling back until all I could see was a void. When I came to, I was horrified to find vomit splattered across Taehyung’s pristine white shirt. His expression twisted in horror and pain as he watched me unravel.

A dark, malevolent presence loomed near, its acrid stench of soot and kerosene overwhelming my senses. My head throbbed as if it had been cleaved in two, and a grotesque, pecking sensation gnawed at my exposed, vulnerable insides. Taehyung’s icy touch against my rigid form offered little comfort as I lay helpless against his chest, terror seeping in with every passing second.

“There’s my girl!” Hoseok’s voice cut through the haze of despair, and just like that, the pain evaporated.

I exhaled, sinking into Taehyung’s embrace. His body felt like ice against my fevered skin, a chilling contrast that brought an unexpected relief. His cool fingers traced my scalp, their touch a soothing balm amidst the chaos.

“I hope you understand Bootsy’s decision,” Taehyung’s voice was as cold as his touch, carrying a weight of finality. “She thought you were still playing games. But she was wrong.”

A deep, resonant rumble filled the space, and Hoseok’s voice emerged from the darkness like a spectral echo.

“Requiem has every right to her judgment,” Hoseok said, his voice a smooth caress laced with menace. “If it were anyone else, I might not care. But Y/N’s suffering is a consequence of her meddling. I had hoped to keep her alive.”

“Why?” I croaked, the question barely escaping my lips.

“You’re my special girl,” Hoseok purred, his voice dripping with a twisted, cruel fondness. “So innocent, so malleable. You’re perfect.”

A strange calm enveloped me as I lay against Taehyung, the tumult of emotions and pain fading to a low murmur. Hoseok’s presence hung over me like a dark, oppressive cloud, his words a cruel mockery of the comfort I desperately sought.

Taehyung’s fingers moved through my hair with a cold, almost clinical precision. “You’ve been chosen,” he said softly, his voice carrying an unsettling calm. “It’s a rare bond that neither Bootsy nor I can undo. I wish there was something more I could do for you.”

My vision blurred, shadows of past anguish swirling around me. Hoseok’s voice echoed in my mind, a haunting lullaby that twisted my insides. “You’re mine, Y/N. No matter how you struggle, you are woven into my essence.”

The room seemed to constrict, the walls inching inward, shadows elongating and darkening. A biting chill settled over the space, the whispers of the damned intertwining with my deepest fears. I could almost see their forms, spectral and menacing, reaching out from the darkness.

I struggled to my feet, the world spinning dizzily around me. My head throbbed with a relentless ache, my heart pounding like a trapped bird. I stumbled away from Taehyung’s unnervingly composed presence, my eyes darting frantically for any sign of escape or salvation.

“Y/N,” Hoseok’s voice was a dissonant blend of soothing and threatening. “Don’t run from me. You belong here, with me.”

My breath came in ragged gasps, the overwhelming urge to flee battling with a stubborn thread of hope tangled in my despair. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, clinging to the faintest possibility of survival amidst the encroaching darkness.

I turned to Taehyung, my gaze pleading, desperate. “Is there no way out? Is there any hope left?”

Taehyung’s expression softened with a mixture of pity and sorrow. “Try to enjoy your final moments.”

Footsteps echoed ominously down the corridor, each step deliberate and foreboding. My heart leaped as a figure emerged from the gloom. Bootsy. Her presence was both a flicker of reassurance and a shadow of dread.

“I’m sorry,” Bootsy’s voice was a murmur of regret in the darkness.

I looked at her, then back at Taehyung, and finally at the encroaching shadows that seemed to reach out with a ravenous hunger. The weight of the choice, of my impending doom, pressed heavily on my chest, threatening to crush me under its gravity.

With a shuddering breath, I steeled myself. “I can’t let this happen to me,” I said, my voice trembling but resolute. “I don’t want this.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the darkness thickening. Hoseok’s laughter echoed through the void, a low, mocking sound that sent icy shivers down my spine. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t be writhing on the floor if you didn’t.”

The shadows deepened, the walls closing in as if reality itself was warping to ensnare me. A cold grip tightened around my soul, a force dragging me back into the abyss I had fought so hard to escape. An aching chill settled below my diaphragm, squeezing the breath from my lungs. My head spun again, his voice a soft whisper in the recesses of my mind. I miss you. I love you. I need you…

Don’t leave me.

Taehyung’s expression hardened into one of grim resignation. “You’re already bound to him. The bond is too strong.”

As I fought against the invisible chains tightening around me, the futility of my struggle became all too apparent. The darkness swallowed me whole, dragging me back into the depths I had desperately tried to escape.

“Please,” I whispered into the void, but the darkness consumed my plea. “Please, no.”

Hoseok’s voice filled the void, smooth and victorious. “Welcome home, darling.”

The last glimmers of light vanished, leaving me in an eternal night, a prisoner of my own choices and the dark forces that had ensnared me. My mind fractured under the weight of the consuming darkness, and as the final remnants of my resistance crumbled, I faced the harrowing truth.

There was no salvation. No escape. Only the endless, consuming dark.

And in that darkness, I was utterly, irrevocably alone.

I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped in this suffocating darkness—hours, days, months, or maybe even years. Time has become an abstract concept here, slipping through my grasp like the thin veil of reality that separates me from the void. The only link to the world beyond this prison is Hoseok, a ghostly presence who appears with a gleam in his eyes that chills me to the bone. His voice, carrying the weight of a thousand tortured souls, always asks the same haunting question: How are you feeling?

We were never friends. Each passing day has sharpened my memories into a cruel clarity. I don’t know where my physical body is—doubtful it’s anywhere near this place. The ink and paper I use to write materialize out of nowhere whenever I need them, appearing and disappearing like phantoms in my disturbed mind. This place defies all logic and reason.

Initially, I fought Hoseok with every ounce of my being. Each refusal brought excruciating pain that felt like it would tear me apart. My screams echoed back at me from the oppressive void, unanswered and ignored. Hoseok would slip into the darkness with a silent, predatory grace, his hot hands roaming over my shivering body before I even knew he was there. I would scramble away, howling and begging him to take me home, but he always left without a word.

Eventually, I gave up the fight. I accepted that escape was impossible, even though my soul still ached for my old life. The pain eased only when I surrendered, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent. They were filled with idle chatter about his plans for me. I learned he was a demon, and I was destined to become one too. The possession would erase most of who I once was, but when I awoke, we would be forever linked as master and shade. My freedom would only come after I took my first human life, but that day seemed impossibly distant. Hoseok savored every bite of my soul with a mournful delight.

What I felt for Hoseok wasn’t love—it was an obsession, a malignant force that had seeped into every corner of my being. “A natural reaction of a shade to its master,” he said. I was bound to him, and escape was nothing but a cruel illusion.

The first signs of my unraveling appeared when Hoseok vanished for days on end. In the infinite darkness, where time had no meaning, his absence was a torment of its own. Despite his power to bend reality, he chose to leave me here, dependent on his presence for any sign of change. I began talking to myself, my voice the only sound in the oppressive silence. I spoke for hours, my throat raw and hoarse from the effort, desperately trying to fend off the encroaching madness.

I felt like an addict in withdrawal. I don’t recall when hallucinations began, but soon I was conversing with a phantom chorus of voices. Deep down, I knew it was Hoseok orchestrating these illusions, but my fractured mind twisted reality into something I could barely comprehend. My hatred for him only served to cloud my already distorted perception.

As time dragged on, I grew weary. My speech turned into riddles, convinced I was a prophet receiving divine revelations. Raised Catholic, I had long drifted from faith, but the darkness reignited an obsession with God. I clung desperately to fragmented Bible verses. Hoseok, ever the manipulator, provided me with a Bible. If I weren’t so far gone, I might have questioned his uncanny ability to fulfill my twisted needs.

When I told Hoseok about my religious background, he laughed, and the darkness morphed into a cathedral. For the first time, there was something tangible to focus on during his absences. It was both a prison and a gift. The pews were filled with spectral congregants, and every day became Sunday. I feverishly wrote sermons, warning of the apocalypse. Hoseok attended with a devotion bordering on reverence, but he always left too soon.

The withdrawal pangs paralyzed me, but incessant talking kept the crushing loneliness at bay. I remember the first encounter after becoming accustomed to this madness. My body trembled with need, yet my mind remained alert. Each denial of release brought physical agony, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent and prolonged. My breakdown was inevitable.

On the day of my final descent, I felt his presence before I saw him. My struggle had reached its nadir. Despite my lingering hope for escape, Hoseok’s presence shattered my resolve. I became an all-too-willing participant in his dark designs. Even now, as I lie prostrate in my despair, I can’t escape the haunting reality of my existence.

The words of the prayer rolled off my tongue like a ghostly murmur in the dim, solemn church. Each syllable was a desperate plea, a sacrament of my crumbling faith:

“Soul of Christ, sanctify me.”

“Body of Christ, save me.”

“Blood of Christ, inebriate me.”

This prayer was a twisted sacrament, a litany of sacred pleas that felt increasingly like cries into the void.

“Water from Christ’s side, wash me.”

“Passion of Christ, strengthen me.”

“O good Jesus, hear me.”

I bowed my head, eyes squeezed shut like a child hiding from monsters under the bed. My hands gripped tightly in a futile attempt to hold onto my sanity. I prayed not just for absolution but for a distraction, for him to stay away, for the sinful thoughts to dissipate like smoke in the sun.

“Y/N,” a voice whispered, spectral and insistent, urging me to rise, to accept, to finally bend to its will.

Reluctantly, I dragged myself to the pulpit, my legs trembling. I focused on the Gospel before me, the rhythm of my breath, the rehearsed words of today’s homily. I could hear murmurs of anticipation swelling in the pews, bouncing off the stone walls like echoes of forgotten promises.

Did they know? Did they sense the darkness creeping into my soul?

To be honest, I was unsure if anyone was really there or if my mind was playing tricks on me. This place had a maddening ability to distort my perception. I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, offering a fleeting smile to the choir’s children—figments of my fractured mind. Their eyes, hungry for guidance, believed in my wisdom, though I felt utterly unworthy. Their gaze was a reflection of my own inner torment.

My eyes locked on a figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat, as I beheld him. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—an irreverent defiance slicing through the sanctity of the church. His gaze was a burning, unholy fire that cut through the darkness with unnerving clarity.

In that moment, the last vestiges of my sanity crumbled, leaving me exposed to the consuming darkness that had become my prison.

I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, and offered a fleeting smile to the choir’s children, who I no longer believed were real. My gaze wandered over the congregation, each face a testament to a faith I felt unworthy of. Their eyes, brimming with expectation, seemed to pierce through me, demanding guidance I could no longer provide. I questioned my own sanity, wondering if anyone in that room could see how profoundly empty I felt.

I once had everything figured out. Before this… before him.

My eyes locked on a single figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat. There he was: jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—a casual defiance that sliced through the church’s sanctity like a blade. His legs were crossed, hands poised by his sides, eyes ablaze with a fire that seemed to burn straight through my composure.

No holy book in his hands, no righteous smile on his lips—just an unspoken, rebellious challenge. His presence was a magnetism that pulled me toward a pit of temptation and sin. I forgot my sermon. I forgot the vows and promises etched into my soul. The solemn pledges made to men of faith and to God. Promises I had written daily to stave off the creeping insanity.

Those promises now felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by him. His eyes, his lips, his rebellious aura—an inferno of forbidden heat that ignited a longing I could no longer contain. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to escape the searing image of him. Abs, legs, an all-consuming heat that seemed to draw me into its vortex.

When I opened my eyes again, the fire remained. A cough from the crowd jolted me back to the present. I tugged at my collar, the symbol of my childhood and a cruel gift from Hoseok. It used to offer comfort, a sign of belonging, but now it felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

The faces of the congregation were a sea of silent, unspoken questions. Their eyes bored into me, filled with unvoiced suspicions and judgments.

Shit.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the edges of the pulpit, trying to anchor myself amidst the spiraling chaos. The eyes of the congregation felt like spectral judgments, each one a reminder of my spiraling failure. Hoseok’s presence, fixed in my peripheral vision, was a constant, unsettling pull—a dark promise of chaos just beyond the edge of reason. It pressed heavily on my chest, a suffocating weight threatening to collapse my fragile sanity.

I forced my gaze back to the Gospel, attempting to focus on the familiar lines of scripture, hoping they would restore my fractured resolve. But the words on the page blurred and twisted, tangled in the storm raging inside my head. Each verse felt like wading through molasses, and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple, mingling with the cold sweat already gathering at the base of my neck. I cleared my throat, trying to regain control, but the sound emerged as a strangled rasp.

The whispers grew louder, like rustling wings pressing against the walls of my sanity. My heart pounded like a funeral drum, each beat a reminder of my mounting desperation. I could almost hear the devil’s laughter, mocking my feeble attempts to maintain a façade of righteousness.

Hoseok’s gaze was unwavering, a predator’s gaze that seemed to sear through my composure. His movements were fluid, deliberate—like a hunter preparing to strike. My mind raced, desperately searching for an escape from this hellish vortex. I glanced at the crucifix behind me, its hollow eyes and outstretched arms now a pitifully inadequate shield against the encroaching darkness. The sacred symbol that once offered solace now seemed like a cruel joke, highlighting how far I had strayed from purity.

The murmurs of the congregation grew insistent, a chorus of impatient whispers that echoed like an unholy chant. The church, once a sanctuary, now closed in around me, its weight suffocating. I took a deep breath, summoning the last remnants of my willpower. I forced myself to meet Hoseok’s gaze again, confronting the fiery rebellion in his eyes. He offered no sympathy, only a silent taunt that echoed my own guilt.

With a trembling hand, I reached for the microphone. My voice cracked as I began to speak, the words spilling out in a disjointed stream. I struggled to reclaim my authority, but with each passing moment, my grip on sanity slipped further. The congregation’s expressions shifted from curiosity to concern, then to alarm. Their faith faltered under the weight of my unraveling composure.

Hoseok’s gaze remained fixed, a dark star in a sea of light, drawing me inexorably towards his gravitational pull. My voice faltered, becoming increasingly erratic, reflecting the chaos within. The church fell into a tense silence, broken only by the rustling of the congregation’s uneasy shifting. I felt every eye on me, their silent judgment a palpable force.

My final words came out as a barely coherent murmur, a defeated whisper lost in the oppressive silence. I stumbled away from the pulpit, my mind a tempest of confusion and dread. As I retreated from the glaring scrutiny of the congregation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was stumbling towards some dark, inevitable reckoning. Hoseok’s gaze followed me, a constant, unsettling presence as I fled the sanctuary.

I collapsed into the shadows behind the altar, my breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed through the oppressive silence of the church. The darkness around me felt like a living entity, wrapping itself around my chest and squeezing, threatening to suffocate me. Hoseok's eyes lingered in my mind, their haunting intensity a constant reminder of the sin and torment that had become my existence. The certainty of my spiraling downfall felt inescapable, and every breath I took seemed to deepen my dread.

The pews had emptied in an instant, leaving the room cloaked in a suffocating silence. My heart pounded as I watched Hoseok move toward me. The man before me was no longer the mortal guise he had once worn; his true form emerged, dark and unnervingly compelling. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now burned with a shadowed hunger that quickened my pulse with a mix of terror and something I couldn’t quite name.

“Y/N.” His voice, soft and reverent, seemed to carry a sacramental weight that sent an icy shiver down my spine. There was a truth hidden in those syllables, a meaning only he understood. As his nearness intensified, confusion and fear danced across my features. His calm, deliberate hand cradled my cheek, the touch both tender and overwhelming. The heat of my skin seemed to beckon to him, an invitation that terrified and enthralled me simultaneously.

"You're so lovely," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that barely masked the wild intensity in his eyes. His touch guided me backward with a grace that felt almost otherworldly. The church seemed to dissolve around us, melting away into a space that was unsettlingly familiar—a fragment of my life from New York. The red brick of the two-story house brought a strange, bittersweet comfort, like a fragment of a life I had once known. It calmed my racing heart with its eerie familiarity. He led me to the front door, his touch both comforting and possessive.

The lock yielded effortlessly, and as we crossed the threshold, the gravity of the situation settled like a stone in my stomach. The house, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in with a menacing intimacy. 

"So perfectly lovely," he murmured again as he closed the door behind us. I stumbled back, my nerves crackling with an unsettling energy. It wasn’t just fear anymore—it was something darker and more confusing. A part of me ached for normalcy, for escape, while another part was drawn to him with a desperate, confusing need. The line between terror and an inexplicable, forbidden desire blurred beyond recognition. I clung to the last shreds of my sanity, even as I felt myself unraveling under the weight of my own conflicted emotions.

"Why are we here?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of breathlessness and an unspoken longing. My heart pounded with a confusing blend of fear and desire. It was as if clarity had returned to me for a fleeting moment, yet I was still tethered to the confusion Hoseok had woven into my days. His promises of relief had begun to erode the pain, even as they wrapped around me like a vice. I remembered the dreams he'd planted in my mind, their seductive whispers blurring my sense of reality.

"I thought you might feel more at ease here," he said softly, his tone smooth and soothing as he followed me through the cluttered living room. Each backward step I took seemed to draw him closer, his presence an inescapable shadow. "Do you like it?"

I hesitated, glancing around at the artifacts of my past—family photos, treasured mementos, relics of a life that now felt so distant. The room was a museum of a future slipping away from me, and Hoseok's eyes seemed intent on taking it all. "Yes, I do," I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. The room, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a stage for his dark play.

"I'd like a drink," I said, placing a hand over my racing heart. I clung to the pretense of normalcy, desperate to maintain some semblance of control. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt a flicker of my old self. "Is there anything here? Surely you would... like one... as well."

Hoseok, having long since discarded any pretense of humanity, closed the distance between us with unsettling swiftness. His movements were almost too fluid, his presence too intense. His hands, warm and steady, framed my face with a possessive grace, his gaze fixed on the pulse in my neck, the rich, inviting blood beneath my skin.

"Oh, Y/N, my sweet, innocent little lamb." His voice, a velvety murmur, sent a shiver down my spine. His touch, trailing down to my neck, felt both magnetic and maddening. His eyes lingered on my flesh with a hunger that was almost palpable, a craving that seemed to consume him as much as it did me.

I trembled in his embrace, my conflicting desires mirrored in his touch. A soft moan escaped my lips, my breath warm and trembling with a heady mix of fear and desire. His smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes as he encircled my waist, his touch moving possessively lower, tracing the curve of my hips and thighs. The tension between fight and flight heightened the charged atmosphere, leaving me both desperate and disoriented.

His eyes traced the flush of my lips, a reflection of the flush between my legs. The scent of my arousal mingled with my anxious heartbeat, a call to the beast inside him. His senses seemed overwhelmed by the promise of my warmth, the floral sweetness of my skin, and the earthy musk of my desire.

"You don't want... a drink?" I stammered, struggling to grasp the situation, to find a shred of reason amid the chaos of my emotions.

"Oh yes, Y/N. I very much desire a... drink." His smile was amused, his lips hovering just above mine. The taste of his breath, mingling with his tantalizing scent, sparked a deep, primal hunger within me. I was alive with all these unfulfilled needs, caught between an overwhelming desire and a paralyzing fear.

I inhaled shakily, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. "What... would you like?" The question was a desperate plea for clarity, a tenuous grasp at the last vestiges of control in a world that had become a tumultuous blur of lust and dread.

A low laugh rumbled in Hoseok’s throat as he brushed his lips over mine, savoring the teasing trace of my flavor. "I want you, Y/N. I want to drink you." His honesty was laced with a raw, consuming need, a plea that mirrored the chaotic mix of longing and fear surging through me. It was clear he had no intention of letting me escape—not now. His tongue traced the corners of my mouth, and his body pressed against mine, making his heat seep through every layer of fabric that separated us.

I trembled, caught in a storm of conflicting emotions. The scents of my home—the cheap cotton sheets, synthetic pillows, and lingering traces of my perfume—led him with a haunting familiarity. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me with a purposeful stride, and placed me gently at the foot of my bed. The moonlight offered only a weak shield against the encroaching darkness that seemed to swallow us whole.

My heart raced, feeling like a delicate butterfly trapped in a predatory web. As he dropped his coat to the floor and drew me into a deep kiss, my earlier uncertainty dissolved into a raw, electric need. Each touch of his fingers against my body made me shiver, a mix of anticipation and dread coiling tightly within me.

The bed was unmade, its disarray a silent testament to my disordered state. His scent lingered in the tangled sheets and blankets as he lowered me onto them. My sweat-dampened palms gripped his hair, my fingers exploring the nape of his neck and shoulders. The buttons on his shirt came undone beneath my trembling hands, my desire growing bolder despite the icy grip of fear that clenched at my chest. His groan as his teeth grazed my throat made me arch my hips, pressing closer, driven by a need I couldn't fully understand.

My clothes fell away under his hands, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. His eyes devoured every curve of my body, his gaze as palpable as his touch. His mouth descended on mine, hungry and insatiable, and I was enveloped by him, lost in a swirling tempest of our shared desire. His touch became a language, one that read my body with an intimate knowledge I was helpless to resist.

As he explored my secret places, my soft sighs turned into desperate pleas. His searing touch brought goosebumps to my skin, but I pressed closer, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving me. I was caught between wanting more and the creeping dread of losing myself entirely.

"Y/N," he groaned, his voice a dark promise. "I want to consume you." His words were a growl, a warning wrapped in seductive desire.

"Yes, I want you to. Do it. Take me," I panted, clutching at his shirt sleeve. My body spoke louder than words, arching upwards in desperate need. I knew I didn't fully understand what I was asking for, but the awareness was drowned out by the intensity of my longing.

His hands covered my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples. I gasped, pushing closer as his mouth found each tip, his low growl sending shivers through me. My heart raced beneath his lips, the rush of blood whispering of more delights to come. I arched again, my body twisting off the bed, craving more.

His mouth sucked at my nipple, his tongue flicking to heighten my pleasure. His thigh pressed between mine, the fabric of his jeans rasping over my nakedness, igniting a desperate heat. I moaned and bucked against him, my fingers digging into his arms as I convulsed beneath him, reaching the peak of my desire. The exhilaration of the moment was punctuated by the fear that clawed at the edges of my consciousness, a persistent reminder that I was teetering on the brink of something both irresistible and terrifying.

The climax left me gasping, trembling, caught in a whirlwind of confusion and overwhelming need. Each wave of pleasure only heightened my fear, and my body’s reaction seemed to betray my mind's desperate protests. His touch, relentless and insistent, found a rhythm that both seduced and terrified me. I cried out, unable to stop the sounds that escaped my lips, but a part of me wanted to resist.

I tried to pull away, my hand grasping his wrist with a frantic intensity. "What... what are you doing to me…?" My voice was a ragged whisper, trembling with a blend of confusion and fear.

He looked at me with a dark, hungry smile, his eyes alight with a dangerous fire. "Y/N, don’t lie to yourself," he said softly, his fingers curling in ways that made my body shudder. "You’re not overwhelmed. Your body is telling me you want this. You’re close to coming again. I can feel it."

My protests dissolved into incoherent moans as his touch stimulated a spot deep within me. The pleasure was a cruel paradox, blurring the line between ecstasy and dread. I could barely think, my mind clouded by the intensity of his actions.

"No, Hoseok, it’s too much," I whimpered, struggling to catch my breath. "I can’t..."

His mouth moved to mine, his lips teasing, his breath warm against my skin. "You’re a beautiful little liar," he murmured. "It’s not too much. You crave this. You know you do. Beg for it."

The force of his command broke through my haze of desire. "Please, Hoseok...," I gasped, my will crumbling under his dominance. My words felt like a betrayal, but I couldn’t stop myself from begging. "Please, just... take me."

His satisfaction was palpable, a dangerous hunger in his eyes. His touch grew more urgent, driving me to the brink of madness. I was lost in a maelstrom of sensation, my mind screaming to pull away, but my body’s response only seemed to draw him closer.

The moment of his thrust was jarring, a mix of pain and pleasure that overwhelmed me. My body reacted instinctively, my hips rising to meet him even as my mind struggled to grasp the reality of what was happening. The intense pleasure was intermingled with a profound fear, a dread of losing myself completely.

His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as though he were chasing an elusive climax. I was limp in his arms, my breathing ragged, torn between an unbearable desire and an escalating terror.

Despite my growing fear, I clung to him, my hands fumbling for some semblance of control. My kisses were desperate, seeking to anchor myself amidst the chaos. His touch was relentless, and every stroke seemed to heighten the conflict within me.

He pressed closer, his hands exploring with a possessive intensity. My body’s reactions were at odds with my thoughts, creating a tumultuous storm of sensation and fear. My mind raced, grappling with the realization of what was happening, but the pleasure was so consuming that it blurred the line between consent and coercion.

As the moment approached, I felt his breath on my neck, a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked beneath his seductive veneer. The final act was a blur, my fear mingling with an overwhelming rush of sensation.

I was a walking paradox—caught between heaven and hell, life and death, sin and redemption. His presence was a fiery furnace, consuming me with the heat of stolen life he had been deprived of for so long. My body clenched around him, a pulsating rhythm that seemed to drive him to the edge of his sanity. His pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent of sensations that painted the world in a chaotic blaze of colors.

“Hoseok, please…” I whispered, my voice a fragile breath against the overpowering cacophony of sensations. I wasn’t sure if my plea was for him to stop or to continue, a desperate cry from a place deep within me that I couldn’t fully comprehend. My fear was a gnawing presence, clawing at the edges of my desire, but the confusion of what I wanted and what I was willing to accept blurred together.

His eyes were dark with a twisted satisfaction as he sensed the last of my climax and my blood draining from me. The thought of taking me to the brink of death both exhilarated and haunted him. His grip tightened, and with a guttural snarl, he pulled away from my neck, his fangs retracting with a mixture of frustration and reluctant restraint. The rush of his thirst roared inside him, but he forced himself to temper his need.

I was an indulgence he wouldn’t be denied again, a forbidden pleasure he was determined to claim. He gently laid me back on the disheveled sheets, my heartbeat weak and fluttering. He licked the last drops of blood from my skin, his breath ragged and uneven. Each touch was deliberate, sealing the wounds with a final, lingering caress—a practical necessity for a demon who wanted to savor every part of me.

“Mine,” he growled, his voice a low, dark promise that vibrated through my core. “You are mine, Y/N. From now until death claims you, until I claim you.” His breath was warm and heavy against my face. My eyelids fluttered, barely able to focus, but his words penetrated my haze. “If any other man dares to touch you, I will tear him apart. Remember this, my beautiful little lamb. Remember who you belong to.”

“Hoseok,” I murmured, my voice a faint echo of surrender. His satisfaction was palpable, a twisted delight in my obedience and submission. He rose and slipped out of the room, leaving me tangled in sheets and blankets. From across the street, hidden in the shadows, he watched and listened, his gaze a persistent weight on my fragile state.

As dawn’s first light crept through the blinds, it painted the room in a sickly, eerie glow. I lay amidst the tangled sheets, each twist revealing new bruises and bite marks—a grotesque map of the night’s events etched into my skin. The aftermath was a haunting blend of pleasure and torment, an unsettling reminder of what had transpired.

Hoseok’s presence lingered in the room like a shadow that refused to lift. The darkness he brought with him clung to the corners, an inescapable reminder of the nightmare I had just lived through. My mind, once a storm of fear and confusion, now spun in a twisted acceptance—a deranged serenity that felt as liberating as it was unsettling.

The door creaked open like the groan of an old house settling into its own despair. Hoseok reappeared, his eyes still gleaming with that predatory glow, but now softened by an unsettling tenderness. He moved towards me with a deliberate grace, each step imbued with a dark reverence that made my heart pound with a blend of fear and reluctant desire.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that slithered across the room. “Do you understand now? You are mine, every inch of you.”

I looked up at him, my smile a grotesque reflection of the twisted contentment that had taken root in me. It was not a smile of joy or freedom but a shadowy acknowledgment of a reality I could no longer escape. My old life had withered into obscurity, replaced by the suffocating reality Hoseok had imposed upon me.

“Yes,” I breathed, the word barely escaping my lips. “I belong to you.”

The truth of my submission felt like a heavy, warm blanket, pressing down on me with an oppressive weight. Despite the enormity of what I had given up—my freedom, my chance to reclaim any semblance of my old life—there was an undeniable satisfaction in surrendering wholly to him. The pain and loss had twisted into a perverse form of fulfillment, filling the void in my chest with a dark semblance of love.

Hoseok’s smile widened, a dark curve that spoke of unyielding possession. He reached out, his hand caressing my cheek with a gentleness that clashed violently with the ferocity of his claim. The room seemed to close in around us, the air thick with a palpable tension, as if the very walls bore witness to my surrender.

“You will never leave me,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto mine with an unbreakable determination. “You are mine, forever.”

I nodded, the movement small and almost imperceptible, but it was enough. It was a surrender, a relinquishment of my will to the dark force that was Hoseok. He pulled me into his arms, and I felt my resolve melt away, my body becoming a canvas for his power, intermingling with the strange warmth of our shared connection.

As his darkness enveloped me, I felt a disturbing sense of belonging. In the shadows of the night, under his control, my fears and desires tangled together, creating a new reality that was both terrifying and intoxicating. In that moment, I understood there was no turning back. I was his, bound in body and soul by the twisted threads of fate and desire.

Hoseok’s eyes softened as he pulled me close, his cold skin a stark contrast to the feverish heat of my own body. His embrace was a strange sanctuary, a place where I felt both ensnared and cherished. My mind, once a battleground of conflicting emotions, had slipped into a state of blissful madness. In Hoseok’s dark embrace, I discovered a twisted joy that defied all rational thought.

“I’ve given you everything,” he murmured, his breath cold against my ear. “We are bound now, Y/N. Forever.”

His words were a chilling promise that resonated through the marrow of my bones, a haunting echo that left me trembling uncontrollably. I clung to him, my grip a mix of desperate need and profound terror, as a disturbing form of happiness took root in the darkest corners of my mind. The loss of my old life, the sacrifice of everything I had once held dear, seemed like a fevered dream compared to the unsettling contentment I felt in his arms.

As the first light of dawn filtered into the room, casting long, distorted shadows that twisted and writhed, I looked at Hoseok with a gaze that was both adoring and disturbingly fractured. The vibrant world I had once known had dissolved into a distant memory, replaced by a nightmarish existence defined by the twisted love and passion we shared. My heart swelled with a love so profound it overshadowed any lingering regret, even as my mind spiraled further into chaos.

Hoseok’s final words were a chilling promise wrapped in disturbing tenderness. “Remember, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his voice a ghostly caress in the dim light. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.”

As the door creaked shut behind him, the morning light seeping in like a reluctant witness, I was left enveloped in the oppressive embrace of the darkness we had forged together. My smile, twisted and unnatural, reflected the bizarre, unsettling happiness I had found in the abyss. I was forever bound to the night, my soul tangled in the shadows of Hoseok’s dark desires.

The room seemed to breathe with the remnants of his presence, each corner cloaked in an oppressive stillness that mirrored the void he had filled within me. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of fragmented thoughts that raged in my mind. Now, there was only the echo of his words, the haunting promise of a future forever intertwined with his darkness.

I lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of our twisted union, my body marked by the evidence of his possession. Each bruise, each bite mark was a grotesque map of the new life I had been forced into. The pain was now a distant echo, overshadowed by the profound and disturbing contentment that gnawed at my chest—a contentment born of both surrender and madness.

As the minutes ticked by and the morning light grew stronger, I found myself replaying his final words in my mind, my thoughts fracturing with each repetition. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.” The truth of those words reverberated through me like a haunting mantra, a binding contract signed with my very essence, even as my grip on reality slipped further away.

There was no turning back, no reclaiming the life I had once known. I was irrevocably his, a willing participant in the dark dance we had begun. The thought brought a grotesque smile to my lips, a smile that spoke of a happiness found in the shadows, a contentment born of surrender and madness.

At least, I wanted to believe it was madness alone that made me forget how afraid I was.

October 31, 2024

The house had become an enigmatic beast, its former guise of normalcy utterly transformed. From the street, it looked like any other home—silent and shadowy against the midnight sky. But within its walls, it was something else entirely. The shutters were clamped shut, keeping out any unwelcome glimmers of daylight. The curtains, heavy with dust, obscured the outside world, making everything inside a surreal, dreamlike blur.

Within this labyrinth of darkness, the house seemed like a twisted echo of a familiar nightmare. The air was thick with the mingling scents of old incense and stale dreams, creating a heavy, almost intoxicating atmosphere. Flickering candlelight cast eerie, jittery shadows that danced and twisted, as if mocking my attempts at normalcy. Silence pressed down on me, almost alive in its oppressive weight.

Days blurred into one another, each indistinguishable from the next in a fog of disorientation. Hoseok’s routines had become my own, though I couldn’t quite remember how or when they had taken over. My existence revolved around small tasks—cooking, cleaning, and performing acts of devotion—that had evolved into a kind of ritualistic pattern. It was as though each action was a silent offering to the enigmatic darkness that had enveloped our lives.

When I glanced in the mirror, the person staring back was a ghostly apparition of my former self. My face, serene to the point of being unsettling, bore a look of eerie contentment. I was a wraith, drifting through my days with a confusing mix of dread and satisfaction.

As night fell, the house came alive with an almost palpable energy. Hoseok’s presence was overwhelming, filling the space with his dark, commanding aura. His arrival was always marked by the ritualistic locking of doors, a subtle reminder of his control. The sensations of pleasure and pain that accompanied his touch had become a surreal symphony, a haunting reminder of the path I had chosen.

One particularly cold night, as the moonlight filtered through the grime-covered windows, Hoseok and I stood together, looking out into the void. The world outside was a distant blur, an irrelevant expanse that felt disconnected from my reality. The sky stretched above us, a vast, unyielding black, reflecting the emptiness of my existence. We were bound together by something primal and deep, though its true nature remained elusive.

Time inside these walls seemed to warp and distort. The house, once a symbol of normalcy, had turned into a crypt of our peculiar existence. The outside world had faded into obscurity, replaced by the certainty of Hoseok’s presence. I had found a strange form of happiness in this eternal night, where the terror of the outside world had been replaced by the dark, enveloping comfort of Hoseok’s embrace.

As I settled into my favorite worn leather chair, the house seemed to pulse with anticipation for Hoseok’s return. My knitting supplies were spread around me, with a scarf for Hoseok in progress. I hummed softly, my heart beating with a sense of calm and eager expectancy, as if I were awaiting a beloved dream to resume.

I replayed our last conversation in my mind, Hoseok’s words lingering like a haunting melody. “An old friend is coming for a visit,” he’d said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “She’s good at dealing with werewolves.”

I couldn’t suppress a bubbling laugh, the sound rising unbidden. “Isn’t she the one Namjoon’s obsessed with?”

His kiss on my temple had been darkly tender, sending shivers of pleasure through me. “Clever girl. It will be fun.”

I teased him playfully. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

His laughter resonated through me, sending a thrill down my spine. “When have I ever been nice, lamb?”

“Nice to me,” I’d replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Very, very nice.”

Settling back into the leather chair, the hearth’s flickering light casting long, shifting shadows, I resumed my knitting with a serene focus. Each stitch felt like a small act of devotion, a testament to my growing obsession. I hummed softly, my heart a silent witness to the peace I had found in this twisted, eternal night. The lines between fear and love, sanity and madness, had merged into a strange, intoxicating tapestry that I no longer fully understood.

Hoseok said I was perfect. His praise was a balm to my disoriented soul.

I smiled, pushing away any lingering doubts about my sanity. I was fine. I was perfect.

Pager Codes:

110 307 - Go To Bar

209 - On My Way

08 - OK

420 - You’re in trouble

3011 - Be Careful

221 - Where are you?

419 - I don’t understand

100 - Come Back

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

My BFF is a Vampire

18+

BLOOD SUCKERS

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, described sex scenes, death, consumption of alcohol and blood, threesome, male and male intercourse, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, wax play, blood play, and more.

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, angst, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

Intro;

I knew something was wrong in the small city I’ve been living ever since I was born here and after I graduated from high school I was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the whole year this small hell of a city called Spring Villa always rained every day.

Every god damn day.

Not that i was complaining, one summer during a high school trip to California was enough for me to realize hot weather was not for me. One day to be more specific, it was my first time and everything seemed so more alive and colorful. But all come to an end since i had to spend the rest of the trip at the hospital with an IV inside my arm due to being exposed to the sun for too long, just one afternoon which was the same as everyone else did but i was the only one who almost died that day for burning on the sun and end up looking like a hot Cheeto. After that i even started to enjoy the cold humid air hitting my face every day when i left to work, the only thing it didn’t change was my hatred for the rain every morning. Getting wet before work was not very enjoyable, everyone could agree on that note.

But the beautiful weather of the city was not the most uncanny thing about it, it has been almost ten years since a serial killer was circling around the Spring Villa. I was only a teen when everything became known to everyone in the city that something wasn’t right, so many bodies were found around Spring Villa along the years people began to stay at home locked away from everything. Some left the city for once and never came back, those who stayed were people who had nowhere else to go, like me.

My father was terrified of the accidents involving the serial killer in town and he too left before anyone else, leaving me and my mother behind. I couldn’t blame him especially after my brother ended up becoming one of the victims, when the police officer called for my parents to identify the body it didn’t felt real to me. I was not allowed to go since at the time i was underage but, I didn’t even got a chance to say goodbye either. My parents didn’t do a funeral for him, it was all too much to bear so instead he was cremated and thrown on a river on the west side of Spring Villa his favorite place to hide with his friends. Ever since that happened my parents have not been the same, I knew that sooner or later this was bound to happen. When father left it was the last straw of sanity of my mother, she became an alcoholic and well… not good.

I’ve been working at the Spring Grill ever since I graduated high school, apart from so many people leaving the city many others came from cities around the town to get a bit of incloser about the serial killer of Spring Villa, he was never caught and that mystery seemed to amaze many tourists around town.

People from all over came to my stupid silly little city to make videos about the killer of my brother, at first I was so angry at them I wished they just didn’t came at all but, over the years it became dull and empty inside my heart. I had more to worry about then that and since I needed money to pay the rent I was more then happy so many tourist came to Spring Villa.

After all I meet my best friend like that.

Notes: Hello readers! Here’s a new story for all of you I truly hope you guys enjoy this work as much as you all been enjoying my old works. This story has been going around my mind a lot and I thought what better time to write then now? So here it is! Taglist is open so leave your request in the comments and I’ll add you! Love all of you, Author. 🩵

[lilacmingi]

THROUGH THICK AND THIN

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. Ageless blogs and blank blogs risk getting blocked

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human!fem reader

Word count: 2,280

Note: This is from my first BTS imagines book on Wattpad from 2018. This version is the rewritten 2024 version! ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS!!!! WOW

It was early afternoon and you and your best friend, Jungkook, were at your place sitting on the couch watching a movie together. The film of choice was a vampire movie—one of your favorites. Your eyes were glued to the screen, knowing exactly what was about to happen, as the both of you had seen the movie roughly a hundred times.

Someone (a vampire) was about to jump out at the main character, you both saw it coming. At the same moment the person jumped out in the film, Jungkook grabbed you and shouted loudly causing you to yelp in response.

The force from his sudden and lighthearted attack caused you to fall over onto your back, thankful that you were on the couch.

Jungkook hovered over you with a mischievous grin, giving you no time to react as he pretended to bite your neck by making playful growling sounds and nuzzling his nose against your skin.

"Jungkook stop!" You begged through giggles, the ticklish sensation making it hard to speak.

"I'm a vampire!" He exclaimed, continuing to act silly.

You were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe, making minimal effort to stop him due to all your squirming. After a few attempts, you were finally able to push him away a little. He took that as a sign to stop and propped himself up to gaze down at you, the movie long forgotten.

"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?" He asked, his tone lighthearted.

"Hypothetically?"

"Of course."

You huffed out a light chuckle, amused by his question and always up for a little theoretical discussion about things like that.

"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

He grinned.

"But vampires aren't real, so I know you're not one."

His smile faltered a bit. "Yeah. They're not, are they?"

"But if they were, I wouldn't be bothered."

His smile returned.

He leaned down and gave you a light kiss on your forehead. Affectionate gestures like that weren't uncommon in your friendship, however, they didn't help your crush on Jungkook. As much as you had wanted to confess your feelings, you were also afraid that you were misinterpreting the gestures. Some people are just very affectionate, though you couldn't really recall anyone you knew that platonically kissed their friends.

"Do you like me or something?" The question was asked teasingly and in a playful manner, but you were hoping to get a serious response.

"What?" He asked, surprise lacing his tone.

"Well, you're always giving me little kisses on my face. Do you like me?" You tried to keep your tone light, playing it off as if you were just teasing him.

His expression changed and his eyes avoided yours. "Well..." He trailed off.

The mood shifted, turning more serious.

"Don't be afraid to be honest with me, Jungkook. We've known each other for three years." You encouraged him.

"Yes." He sighed, his eyes closing as if to avoid seeing your reaction.

"I knew it!"

"Y/n, don't embarrass me about it." He huffed.

"Why should you feel embarrassed? I feel the same way about you."

"You feel the same way?"

"Was it not obvious? I let you give me kisses all the time and cuddle with me. I don't ever push you away or tell you to stop. Could you not take a hint?"

"No?" He said it like a question.

"You big goober." You giggled and delivered a light smack to his shoulder.

"I'm not a goober." He defended through laughter. "I just wasn't sure how you felt. That's all."

Your joint laughter soon faded and the room went completely silent, the atmosphere changing in a matter of seconds. Jungkook stared down at you with his big and innocent-looking doe eyes that never failed to make your heart leap. He gulped nervously.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

"You kiss me all the ti-"

"On the lips." He specified.

The beating of your heart sped up at his request, only managing to utter a meek, "Yeah."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you softly, being very gentle and almost hesitant in his actions at first. Only when you reciprocated did he pick up the pace, pressing his lips closer to yours and kissing you harder. What you were experiencing in that moment was nothing like you had ever imagined (and you did imagine it... many times). Raven strands of Jungkook's lengthy hair caressed your forehead as they fell, untucking themselves from behind his heavily pierced ears. The faint ticklish sensation paired with the feeling of his lips moving against your own and his hand that had found its way to your waist was a combination that made your head spin.

Bringing your hands up to his luscious hair, you slid your fingers between the layers of wavy tendrils, playing with his locks. He seemed to like that, as he released a mix between a groan and a sigh against your lips that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. It was after that he began to get rougher. His hands gripped your waist and then one of your thighs, squeezing so hard it almost hurt. The pace of his breathing got heavier and you could've sworn you heard a faint growl from the back of his throat.

He pulled away for only a moment, reattaching his lips to your jawline, his piercing dragging against your skin making your eyelids flutter. He placed hot kisses down the side of your neck where he started nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands went back to squeezing your waist, the inhuman grip making you wince.

As much as you enjoyed the moment, it was now getting to a point where it was no longer enjoyable for you and his intensity was making you nervous.

"J-Jungkook." You didn't mean to stutter, but things were heating up very fast and he didn't seem to realize how uncomfortable you were.

He nipped harshly at your neck, making you release a small squeak of surprise.

"Jungkook!"

As if your voice had broke through an invisible barrier, Jungkook snapped out of his daze and pulled away. He was breathing so heavily his shoulders were heaving up and down. His eyes were wide with fear as if he realized he was about to do something terrible.

He looked scared.

"What was that all about?" You inquired.

"I-I have to go." He scrambled off you and went to grab his keys.

"Jungkook-"

"I need to go right now, Y/n." His voice was firm as he spoke, walking out of your apartment without another word or even an explanation.

You sat there dumbfounded.

The door to your apartment slammed shut and just like that, you were left a confused and flustered mess on the couch.

He was in such a hurry to leave, barely managing to speak without stumbling over his words, it had you worried.

Was it something you did? Did he regret kissing you?

The longer you sat on the couch, stewing in your anxious thoughts, the worse you felt. It got to a point where it became unbearable and you found yourself reaching for your phone.

You

If I did something wrong, I'm sorry

You sighed, leaning your head back on the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling, memorizing the texture while worrisome thoughts flooded your mind once again.

After sitting for an unknown amount of time, you decided to go check on Jungkook in person. He hadn't responded to your text and it was beginning to worry you. If you had somehow done something to make him uncomfortable, you wanted to know and you wanted it taken care of right away. The both of you had been through thick and thin together. Good times and bad times. And if something was bothering either one of you, you talked about it.

The first place you drove to was a nearby park, a place where the both of you liked spending time at, but Jungkook was nowhere to be found. If he needed to clear his head, you assumed he would've been there. The only other place he could possibly be was home.

It didn't take long for you to arrive at his apartment building since he lived nearby. You hastened inside and went straight to his floor.

When you arrived at his front door, you didn't bother knocking. The both of you had been friends for years and neither of you usually knocked when you visited each other.

You stepped inside and saw Jungkook's keys lying on the floor along with the glass dish that usually held them. The bowl looked as if it had been knocked over and a huge piece was broken off of it.

Oh no.

Your first thought was that he was hurt, or maybe someone had broken in. You hoped it was neither.

"Jungkook?" You called out.

"Y/n?" His startled voice came from the kitchen.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He answered frantically.

"The glass dish by your door is broken. I thought you cut yourself."

"No. I'm fine."

You proceeded towards the kitchen, only for him to speak up when he heard you approaching the entryway.

"Don't come in here!"

"Why not?"

"I-uh I lied. I did cut myself. Sorry. I didn't want you to worry about me."

"I can help if you want." You responded, stepping into the kitchen.

"No please don-" Jungkook tried to stop you, but before he could finish his sentence, you were already standing in the doorway.

What you had expected to see was nowhere near the sight you were met with.

Jungkook's beautiful and captivating rich brown eyes were a deep shade of red, his mouth smeared with blood that matched his crimson irises. As if that wasn't jarring enough, you spotted two sharp fangs poking out of his mouth, which hung slightly agape in shock.

"Y/n. Don't freak out."

"You're a..." The sentence went unfinished, as your voice was stuck in your throat. You were too stunned to even utter the word that floated about in your head.

"Please don't be scared."

Jungkook took a step towards you, but you instinctively took one back, your actions making him frown.

Too overwhelmed, you spun around and took off towards the front door, jerking it open and bolting out as fast as you could.

You didn't get very far when your legs slowed and you came to a complete stop in the hallway as your rational thinking finally kicked in. What were you doing?

Jungkook's words from earlier that night replayed in your head.

"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?"

Your expression fell into one of disappointment, your heart sinking. It wasn't just a silly question. He was being serious when he asked you that.

Your words came to the forefront of your mind, hitting you like a knife to the chest.

"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

Why were you running away? What you said to him earlier was true, though you assumed the question was theoretical. Still, your answer was genuine. And yet, here you are standing in the hallway of his apartment building ready to flee like a scared animal.

Not only that, but it was clear Jungkook didn't want you to see him like that. He tried to stop you from coming into the kitchen and yet, you ignored him. If only you had listened. Then again, you thought he was hurt. You were worried. How were you supposed to know he was only trying to hide his identity from you?

There was no time for overthinking, you had to make things right.

Spinning around on your heel, you hurried back inside Jungkook's apartment.

When you found him, he was leaned over the kitchen counter, sniffling. His head shot up when he heard you enter the room.

"Y/n?" Your name was uttered weakly.

Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to return.

The blood had been cleaned from around his mouth and his appearance had returned to normal.

"I'm sorry." Your apology came out in a pathetically feeble voice, your jaw clenching to stop the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes.

Wasting no time, you ran up and hugged him as tightly as you possibly could. He wrapped his arms around you, relaxing in your hold as a sense of relief washed over him like a soothing wave.

"You asked me what I would think if you were actually a vampire. I answered honestly, though I thought you were just asking silly hypothetical questions. Now I see why you asked it in the first place." You sighed. "I'm really sorry for running away. I was caught off guard and unable to process everything."

"It's okay. That's completely understandable. Besides, I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you."

You pulled back and looked at him, gently wiping his cheeks where he had been crying.

"Hey. Through thick and thin. Remember?"

He nodded.

"So... we confessed to each other earlier. Does that mean I'm dating a vampire?"

Jungkook chuckled. "I suppose it does. As long as you're okay with that."

"Are you kidding? I'm more than okay with it."

He grinned at your response, swiftly sweeping you into his arms.

"What do you say we pick up where we left off earlier?"

"I like the sound of that." You giggled as he attached his lips to yours and carried you off to his room.

Jimin ♱ Yoongi ♱ Taehyung ♱ Namjoon ♱ Hoseok ♱ Jin

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Vampire's Kiss | Chapter List

⤷ Subtitle | Just us.

⤷ Pairing | Vampire!Jungkook x Human!Reader

⤷ Genre | Vampire!AU, smut, fluff, future angst

➢ Ratings | +18 / M (Mature)

⤷ Summary | Humans have finally unveiled and accepted the centuries-old existence of vampires, in a modern world people share their lives with these peculiar and mysterious creatures, but it is not all roses.

Will two souls belonging to such different species be able to be together?

➢ Author's Note | This story was born out of my passion for vampires, I hope you will enjoy it ❤

||CHAPTER LIST||

Chapter One | 24.02.24

Chapter Two | 20.03.24

Chapter Three | 11.06.24

Chapter Four | 25.07.24 NEW!

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

© | I do not allow republication or editing of this story by third parties, all rights belong to me, anyone guilty of the crime of plagiarism will be reported and blocked. The same goes for the smartasses who will take pieces of my story without my explicit consent.

[yoongsisbae]

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 6

A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters.

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung.

If you enjoy this series and want more updates, please leave a comment or reblog!

Warnings: smutty content, mind control, blood-drinking cause vampire things, dubconish, light yandere, voyeur, lots of neck licking lol

Word count: 12.1k

---

“You are going to be the reason we all die.”

“Jimin, stop,” Jin says. “Dove, we need to know what Taehyung said to you,” he asks, much more diplomatically. 

You shake your head, trying to make your way closer to the vampires, but the men around you have made an impressive barrier. How are you going to explain the lost months you experienced, the things you witnessed in Jimin’s memory? You stare at the angry younger vampire, how are you going to convince Jimin to help you?

“Jimin, you need to bite me.”

“What?!”

-

“What did you do to her?!” Hoseok roars at the vampire in question, who looks equally as shocked and offended at the accusation. 

“Nothing!” you interject, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“He did something to her to make her act like this!” Hoseok yells louder, turning his frustrations onto his pack leader.

“She has been calling out to him since we found her,” Yoongi tells Namjoon, confirming Hoseok’s accusations.

“What?! What did you do!” Jungkook growls out. “I’ll kill you-”

“It’s my fault that she's obsessed with me?” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away like the entire display was beneath him.

“Do you want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who furiously glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You speak up first, desperate to make them understand you. “Jin, why exactly did you forbid Jimin to bite me in the first place? Huh? Why?!” you challenge him.

Everyone stares at the eldest, even the vampire in question himself. Seokjin’s finger runs over his forehead, moving a stray lock of hair back in place. He clears his throat, “I did not want to cause him any pain-”

“What do you mean pain?” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

You huff, “Your memories, Jimin, your life-”

“There are certain memories better forgotten,” Seokjin interjects.

“No, no,” you say shakily. You had wished to forget this place so many times locked up in the vampire’s lair, and then when you did, you lost more than just the memories, you lost yourself. “No.”

And Jimin, he too, is lost. 

You glance over to the defiant vampire. “You have to bite me, you’re the only one who can stop Taehyung!”

Jimin looks around at everyone’s concerned faces, growing more irritated. Why does he have to be the one to stop Taehyung? Jimin never agreed to even help! And what makes you even think he has that kind of power? 

“Why?” It was Hoseok who questioned you angrily, upset at the way you are treating Jimin with such fondness. “Why him?!”

“Because he knows magic,” you say simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I d-don’t know magic,” he spits out. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself!

But everyone is silent, eyes full of guilt and remorse, looking at him as if they know something he doesn’t. The kind of look that Jimin despises.

“You do,” you say with more conviction. “When you were human. I can show you.” You hold out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires.

“What is she talking about, Jin?” he turns to the eldest. 

“Jin, we don’t have time, you need to be honest with him!”

“Shut up! You are the reason we are even in this mess to begin with, you know that? Just how many times did we tell you to not get so comfy with Taehyung. You let him use you, because you’re weak, you’re-”

“And what about you?! You let Taehyung use you too, didn’t you?!” you scream, your anger getting the better of you.

“Stop!” Namjoon bellows, “Everyone, stop!” He looks furious with you, his hard glare instantly making you feel small and apologetic.

“Don’t order me around, you filthy beast!” Jimin hisses at Namjoon, deep and threatening, his eyes glowing with rage.

“We don't have time,” you whimper desperately. 

Your head is pounding. You feel it…

…inside of you, in the back of your mind…screaming, wrapping around your bones…

…the dread of something horrible coming for you all.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse.

“Jimin, I’m afraid we need to work together on this.” The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s comforting hand. He’s beginning to think Seokjin is equally to blame as much as you. He’s beginning not to trust him…

“I’m not fucking helping any of you,” he stares at you, glowering. “Let Taehyung tear you apart,” he growls, baring his fangs.

You shake your head in disbelief. “You wanted to be a doctor, you loved helping people, you became a medic in the military. You fought for your country, you saved people,” you ramble on and on, hoping to convince the vampire to listen to reason. You’re angry that no one has told him, they should have, this shouldn’t be coming from you!

Jimin yells, picks up and throws a wicker chair in your direction in his anger, which Jungkook stops with ease, the chair exploding when it hits the youngest’s shoulder.

Hoseok has had just about enough of Jimin, he hasn’t forgotten the scars he witnessed across your body, he hasn’t forgotten the way you looked so fragile when he found you. This was all the vampires’ fault, and Jimin most of all. That arrogant, cruel, deceptive little-

Hoseok transforms instantly, pouncing on Jimin.

Yoongi pulls you back as the others transform as well. You’re both thrown to the ground as they fight, as they tear the house apart from the inside, unable to cohabitate any longer.

You groan, rolling over, still attempting to get to the headstrong vampire, your hand pressing into broken glass and blood escaping.

At the smell it wasn’t Jimin, but Jin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes glow red, searching out your blood. 

Namjoon’s large snout sinks its teeth into the eldest vampire and the fighting only escalates tenfold. Everything is loud, everything is chaos. You try to keep moving closer to the chaos still, until you notice something familiar in front of you. 

You notice the redness of the gem that had fallen out of Yoongi’s pack in the chaos, now shining brighter than ever.

Oh no. You can feel it again, pulling you in. You shuffle backwards, clutching your chest, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter, glowing like the vampires’ eyes then glowing even more until it envelops the entire home.

-

“Do you all want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

This is getting you nowhere. Good God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think! You try to come up with a plan, but your head is throbbing in pain.

Jimin speaks up first, “Just what are you playing at, pet?”

You look up at him. “Pull my memories. You’ve already done it once. Just do it again.”

Seokjin looks over at the younger vampire in disbelief.

“I have not,” Jimin looks at you furiously for getting him in trouble over a lie. “She’s obviously suffering from some delusional episode! Listen, you wretched human girl! You’re nothing to me, you mean nothing, so stop these fantasies! right! now!”

“You have, and we saw your mother. You just, ugh, don’t remember because it happened in the future, ugh, just-” you groan, clutching your head. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. Your body starts shaking and Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist to steady you.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. His mother? You saw his mother? How dare you even talk about her! Like you know anything about her, like you know more than Jimin, who well, knows nothing about his mother…and he doesn’t care to know! 

Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself! It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse. “See! She’s lost it,” he yells, pointing at you. “So weak!”

“Please, I’m not lying,” you cry out. You feel sick. You just want to save them, why won’t they listen to you?! Jungkook holds you tighter as your legs give out.

“What’s happening to her!” Hoseok looks over to his leader worriedly, holding onto your shoulders to keep you upright as you slump forward.

“I think it has something to do with this,” Yoongi pulls the red amulet from his pouch, holding the necklace up and letting it dangle for everyone to see.

“No!” You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

You clutch your chest, closing your eyes tightly as it burns brighter, until it envelops the entire home. 

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You feel your stomach turn again. You feel winded, like you’ve been running. You massage your temples, wiping away the accumulating sweat. God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think!

“Why?” Jungkook speaks first, voice full of pain. “Why Jimin out of all of us?” Your heart drops at his hurt expression. You don’t know the right way to explain to Jungkook, to all of them, why this needs to be done, especially now when your head feels like it’s about to explode. When did you become so jittery? What is happening?! You try to concentrate and think, but where do you even begin? 

“W-We all know the power they have, right?” You gesture to the vampires. “The way they can look into your memories when they…but Jimin has never bitten me,” technically that is correct in this point in time, “only Jin-”

“Yeah, and just why is that?” Jimin looks at the eldest vampire pointedly, crossing his arms, fed up with Seokjin’s obtuse answers. “Explain.”

Seokjin sighs, straightening the wrinkly shirt Namjoon had given him to wear. “It was for your protection,” he addresses Jimin.  

“Protection from what?!” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

“We don’t have time for this,” you mutter. You feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about Seokjin, about him, better than himself!

“THEN JUST BITE ME!” You scream back. “You’ve been wanting to all this time!”

The pack watches you argue, stunned into silence. This is news to everyone else; Jimin hasn’t bitten you? And furthermore, Seokjin didn’t want him to bite you. Seokjin had found Namjoon and explained most of what happened, but not that. 

---

“Stay here, in case Hoseok returns.” That was a direct order from his pack leader, and as much as Jungkook wanted to disobey and run towards the thundering noise that had rattled their home, the older shapeshifter was leagues above the young wolf in strength and dominance.

It was luck that Namjoon encountered the pair of vampires instead of his brothers. If it had been anyone else, the vampires might not have made it out with their heads. But Namjoon was always the type to observe first, take everything in before making any rash decision, it’s what kept him alive this long and made Namjoon a leader.

Jin and Namjoon were talkers. They were, even in their wildest days, the best at beguiling, enticing, drawing in others with their words, and upon meeting, they realized they had finally met their match. Namjoon’s most favorite nights were conversations with Seokjin, picking apart the intricacies of the humanities. Two beasts had become obsessed with learning and gaining a humanity of their own.

Namjoon would have torn them apart otherwise. But the magical blasts had knocked the younger more confrontational vampire out, and Seokjin pleaded with Namjoon to listen to his story. “Taehyung has escaped.” With a start like that, Namjoon couldn’t resist not learning more.

With the sun soon rising and Taehyung out there somewhere, Namjoon had little options left but to invite the wounded vampires into his home.

While you were in another part of the island healing and trying to bridge the peace amongst two headstrong beasts, Namjoon and Seokjin were coming to their own kind of peace, a détente at least for the time being, an opportunity to speak to each other like old times now that they had a bigger enemy then themselves.

---

“Well now I don’t want to.” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away.

You look at him in disbelief. Ugh. This is driving you crazy, there is no time to be like this. ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button. Fuck, you are so over this!

You think about the crying man on the floor, covered in your blood with a broken expression on his face, you think about that sweet boy, crying for his mother. Somewhere deep inside Jimin is that sweet boy who cried.

You look down at your nails with one last hope remaining. You’ll just have to make him drink from you.

You dig your nails into your forearm, scratching your skin as deep as you can. 

But it was Seokjin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes turning red, searching out your blood.

Fur envelopes you, Jungkook and Hoseok shielding you with their large canine bodies while Seokjin lunges for you, stopped short by Namjoon’s fangs.

Jimin throws the beast off the older vampire. Jimin, full of rage, tears his sharp nails into Namjoon’s coat. Yoongi screams for Jin, his influential words finally knocking him out of his blood stupor. Then he calls out to the younger vampire, “Jimin, stop.”

But Jimin is already too full of rage to listen to reason. He can’t stand being stuck in this idiot infested house any longer. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse! He should have never listened to Seokjin! He’s beginning not to trust him-

Seokjin addresses the two wolves next to you as the younger vampire lashes out. “Take her out of here, hurry!” he yells, attempting with difficulty to retain the younger vampire with Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s help. 

“No!” you scream at the top of your lungs, “You don’t understand!”

A deep growl from Jungkook frightens you into silence. His fangs are around your stomach, only holding you still, not puncturing into you, but it’s terrifying nonetheless as he yanks you backwards, his hind legs digging into the earth.

You cry once outside, unable to pull yourself together. You pull at Jungkook’s fangs, attempting to unlock his jaw from your side and the large beast begins to whimper in anguish at your attempts to flee from him, extinguishing the fight inside you.

Nothing is working! Nothing! It’s hopeless, you’re all going to die, you think, either by Taehyung’s hands or by each others. You cry harder into Jungkook’s fur, who has wrapped his large canine body around yours.

“…what?” You see it from the open door and your body acts on impulse as you claw at the ground, trying to move closer, uncaring if Jungkook’s teeth tear at your skin. Tears dry up as you watch the house start to glow red, brighter than anything you’ve ever seen before. 

No, that’s not quite true. You’ve seen that red glow befo-

-

“We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks. “Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” you murmur to yourself. Jungkook and Jimin glance towards your way.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me…” you whisper. “Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him-”

“There is no telling what he is capable of now,” you say in unison to the leader, finally aware this is not just some strange case of deja vu. All eyes turn to you. Jimin scoffs, just like he did before, pulling on Seokjin’s shoulder. “...I-I want Jimin to bite me!” you yell. 

“No! No way in hell.” “No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!” “Oh I am going to kill you!”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jimin screams accusingly.

You look around, your gaze stopping on the eldest. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. “Seokjin doesn’t make me do anything!” you yell back in unison, a satisfied smirk on your face, pointing directly at Jimin.

“How the fuck are you doing that?” the merman questions.

You rub your temples, trying to make sense of it all. ‘This happened before, why has this happened before? This has to be Tae’s doing!’ “I don’t know, I don’t know, but we’ve already had this conversation, and I-I think, I can’t remember, something must have went wrong...Jimin, you need to bite me, right now!”

“Well…” he clears his throat, looking around as everyone has gone deathly quiet, “now I don’t want to,” Jimin crosses his arms.

Ugh! ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button.  “Listen, you’ve already done it once! Just just do it agai-wait, no, we did this already…something is wrong…” 

“Maybe it’s you!” Jimin accuses. “Taehyung has already gotten in her head, how can we trust her?” he warns the others.

“You’re...right!”

“Y/n?” 

“Jimin is right. I can feel him,” you shudder. “Which is why you need to bite me, because I know for certain, Taehyung doesn’t want you to.” You hold your hand to him.

“And if this is a trick?”

“Ugh, I’m not tricking you! I want to stop Taehyung for you, you idiot!”

‘Idiot’?! How dare you call Jimin an idiot, when you’re the biggest of the idiots in this idiot infested house! “And suddenly you have my best interest at heart?!” Jimin yells back, disgust evident.

Ugh, your head is killing you, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. 

You try to think about everything that has transpired since you met Taehyung, trying to see if you missed anything-

“Wait, wait, wait…ugh, let me go!” you yell at the pack surrounding you. You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling into the sand. 

You look up at the sky, taking a deep breath of fresh air to calm yourself. It’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re scared of what night will bring.

Yoongi is by your side, lifting you up. “Y/n,” you think he is about to dismiss you like he always does, but instead he says, “tell me what I need to do to help you.”

“Yoongi...” You’ve never seen him so sincere before. “Do you think you can use your siren song on Jimin to-”

“I can hear you, pet! It doesn’t work! And I should kill you for even suggesting it.”

“Touch her and I will kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Ugh,” you groan, turning your back as the group of stubborn monsters in front of you begin to bicker, deja vu hitting you hard again. “What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to change?” You ask yourself out loud, head in your hands.

Yoongi holds you steady. “Something definitely is up, and I have a feeling it has something to do with this-” Yoongi looks through his pack.

“T-That’s it! Wait! No!” You yell as Yoongi pulls the gem out of his pack, letting it dangle in his hand.

But it’s too late. You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

‘Y/n, take it.’

You fall back to the ground and clutch your chest, dismissing the words inside your head, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter.

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

Okay, this is it. “Seokjin, you need to bite me.”

“What!?” Jimin yells angrily.

You look into Seokjin’s eyes, silently pleading with him. “The memory pull, it’s going to work now. Please,” you urge, holding out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires. “Look into my memories and you’ll understand!”

Jimin pulls the eldest back as he advances. “You’re really going to obey her command? Just like that! Taehyung might have already gotten to her, how can we trust her?!”

“You’re right! Jimin is right. I can feel him. Which is why…” you swallow, looking at Jimin, remembering this same conversation said just another way, wondering just how many times you have tried to convince them. “Which is why, you need to bite me.” You move your eyes to Seokjin, staring ahead steadfast. “So you can see the truth!”

“Why?” Jungkook speaks up, voice full of pain. “Why Seokjin out of all-”

You grab the youngest’s face and kiss him abruptly, silencing his worries.

Hoseok’s stares at you, mouth agape. He doesn’t know whether to be furious with you, or satisfied that Jimin and Yoongi both look so furious with you for kissing the youngest shapeshifter.

“Trust me, please,” your hands shake in your desperation, squishing his cheeks as he looks at you in shock and awe. 

“O-Okay,” Jungkook nods.

The eldest vampire sighs and starts to move closer much to Jimin’s astonishment and disgust. You try to push past the pack’s strong bodies. It hurts them to see you try to go to their enemy, but they let you pass.

Jimin crosses his arms, scoffing as the eldest meets you in the center of the room. Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. Suddenly you want Seokjin to bite you now? When you were just throwing yourself at Jimin! Why?! What happened? What’s the reason? You’re so annoying, you’re insufferable, the way you look at Seokjin with so much hope and trust.

Jimin grinds his teeth together in anger, so hard his fangs begin to pierce his bottom lip.

Seokjin puts his hands up, glancing towards the pack leader, meaning no harm before he bends his head closer to your neck.

“Wait!” Jimin speaks up. “Y/n, you wanted me to bite you, didn’t you? So come here then!”

“Jimin, I-”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Jimin cuts Seokjin off. “You didn’t listen to me about Taehyung, about her, and then you made a truce with them without even asking me! You’re lucky I even speak to you at all!” Jimin is furious with Seokjin, he’s beginning not to trust him...

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Jimin seethes.

You smile, running past Seokjin. You hold out your wrist to Jimin, looking up at him hopefully. 

Jimin scoffs again, gripping your arm painfully and yanking you closer. The wolf trio begin to growl in anger, baring their fangs.

“I choose where I bite you, pet.”

You try to remain calm as the trio behind you let out low threatening growls. Jimin smirks, spinning you around by your arm, hugging you against his body like a shield and snickering at how angry it makes them.

The pack looks ready to attack. Yoongi begins to step forward in his growing anger.

“No!,” you stop him, “J-Just let him do what he wants,” you mutter.

Jimin smirks. “If it was what I wanted, you would be on your knees with your mouth shut.” He sneers, gripping your chin painfully tight and yanking your head backward. “And your head down, thinking about how stupid you are for walking right into Taehyung’s trap.”

‘Like you did,’ you think, keeping your temper in check.  “I know you’re scared, it’s okay.”

“I am not scared!” he hisses, nails digging into your side. You wince. Namjoon’s growls become louder.

“Namjoon, stop!”

Jimin smirks again. “Yeah, listen to her, dog. Since we are all at this human’s mercy,” he scoffs. “You seem to know so much about what happens next, so tell me, is it going all according to your little plan?” He presses his body against yours, holding you tightly.

“You like this, don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, obscenely grinding himself against your backside. Jimin rests his chin on your shoulder, arm still secure around your waist, smirking, intent on drawing this out for everyone involved, “them watching.” His hand grabs your breast roughly. 

Your eyes meet Yoongi’s eyes, dark with anger, and you shut them in shame.

You breathe through your nose as he fondles you for everyone to see, letting out short breaths when he rests his hand over your throat, choosing to submit in hopes he’ll eventually do what you want.

Jimin’s fangs scrape across your shoulder as he revels in the intoxicating feeling of power he has over you and everyone else, finally feeling better about his new situation. He breathes in the anger emanating from everyone in the room, inhaling your sweet desperation most of all.

His fangs scratch the surface of you, up the sensitive skin of your neck until you bleed.

Seokjin drops to his knees, panting heavily, addicted to your blood in more ways than one. Jimin stops, looking over to the older vampire. “I’m fine,” Seokjin pants. “I’m fine.”

Jimin looks coldly down at him, how disgraceful that he’s let you affect him so much. That’s what he gets for drinking from you all the time, for not letting Jimin! He licks the blood off your neck and you shudder. Jimin moans loudly, tasting your blood again finally.

The pack looks ready to kill, they bare their fangs, the restraint in their growls long gone.

“I’m sure they can all smell you from here, I can,” Jimin whispers in your ear, hand pressing down on your lower stomach, taunting you, “You’ve learned to be a good little pet, hmm? Here’s your reward.” Jimin presses his fangs into the column of your neck, directly on your pulse.

“What the hell?” the merman mumbles. There is something glowing in Yoongi’s pack. He fumbles with the latch to inspect it. Yoongi yanks out the red glowing gem, confusion evident on his face.

Oh no. You can feel it again. A familiar voice starts to call out to you. If it wasn’t for the pain in your neck keeping you present, you surely would have lost control.

You clutch your chest as the gem burns brighter. “Jimin! You-”

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?” Jimin roars, advancing on you and the pack.

“You saw– You know–” you look at Jimin in disbelief. You reflexively cover your throat, the punctures are gone, but your heartbeat is still fluttering. “It wasn’t me!” you yell back.

The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s protective hand. “Taehyung…” Jimin growls. “And you!” He points an accusing finger at the merman. “Give me that gem in your pack right now!”

“How did you know about that?” Yoongi glares at the younger vampire.

He scoffs, “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“Well then fuck off,” Yoongi spits out.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with– ‘Wait,’ He feels it, he can’t explain it, but it’s there, all around him, an inevitability that he can’t control, and it pisses him off! Jimin spins around, baring his fangs, claws ready to strike. 

The group watches Jimin spin around angrily like a confused dog chasing its tail.

“See,” you glare at Jimin, “See how annoying it is!”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Taehyung. The gem is his. And it seems he’s still using it somehow.” Jimin reasons, looking around at the familiar scene. “Give it, we need to destroy it,” Jimin holds out his hand impatiently. “DAMMIT YOONGI! We don’t have time for this!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you huff.

The merman holds onto his pack defensively. He doesn’t trust Jimin, but he knows they have to work together to stop Taehyung. Jimin is untrustworthy, but Jimin is powerful, more than he even realizes. So Yoongi holds his tongue and relents. 

You clutch your head in your hands. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Get it away from me!” you cry out. 

You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling in the sand. Jungkook and Hoseok follow you out, worried for your safety and your quickly declining state of mind.

Jimin scoffs again. Pathetic, he thinks. Humans are scared of their own shadows. He turns his attention on the merman, waiting impatiently. He tries to ignore how close the others are to him as the men huddle around to look at the necklace. 

Jimin holds the gem in his hand, inspecting it. The weight of it in his palm is heavy. He touches the smooth rock, the gem itself is small, but the energy surrounding it is immense, a familiar power the vampire can’t quite put his finger on. ‘Why isn’t it glowing?’ he thinks, and as soon as the thought enters his mind a slow bright red light begins to emanate around the gem. 

“What’s going on?” The pack leader questions, staring at the gem, ready to strike anything that appears. 

“I don’t know.” Jimin doesn’t know how to stop it, but he wishes for whatever is happening to halt.

And as soon as the thought entered his mind the glow begins to recede back into the gem.

“Jimin, you should hold onto that necklace for now.” Seokjin speaks.

Jimin looks up and the expression on Seokjin’s face surprises the younger vampire. He’s seen that hardened look before from Seokjin, in moments when the older vampire begins to feel sentimental. Most recently, the night you came to them. Jimin never questioned it before, but now he wants to, he wants to know all the secrets Seokjin is keeping from him. Jimin is beginning not to trust him-

He grabs the eldest’s shirt collar, yanking him close. “You know what this is?”

Seokjin remains unaffected by Jimin’s outburst, covering Jimin’s hand with his own. “Now that I’ve looked at it up close, yes, I’ve seen it before. I believe, that necklace,” he sighs, “used to be yours. A long time ago, I saw you wear it. Or something very similar,” he swallows.

But before you, Jimin has never seen this necklace before in his life! He stares at the gem. That familiarity he feels can’t be– no, that feeling is just like the other moments of deja vu he has been experiencing, it’s not because…is it? Does this necklace belong to him?

You stare at the wolves’ den, refusing to move any closer. Nothing has happened yet, there is no red glow, and no immediate danger, but you feel at any moment everything could change. You look up at the sky, it’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re worried-

“Y/n?” Hoseok shakes you when you don’t respond.

“Hoseok…” You wonder how many times this moment has repeated itself. Has Hoseok looked at you like this before, his care for you evident in his soft gaze? You try to remember and make sense of what is real. “That necklace, Taehyung used it to escape. I-I don’t know how, I don’t know why. I– Ahhh!”

Your nails dig into your scalp as you desperately try to claw away at the pain. The pain is radiating at your temples, just behind your eyes, in the back of your head, behind your ear-

“Hey, y/n, hey!” Hoseok holds your trembling body, patting your cheek, reminded of the moment he found you on the beach. Your eyes stare at the sky, far away, like you’re lost in your head, unable to hear him.

“W-What’s happening to her?!” Jungkook whimpers. You just came back to him and now he fears he might lose you completely.

Hoseok picks you up into his arms, holding you securely to him. “I don’t know, Namjoon will know. I’m taking her back inside.”

You want to tell him no, you want to tell him to wait, you don’t want to go back in, but you can’t find the energy to open your mouth to speak the words. Your body is betraying you, your vision starts to cloud, and you realize darkness is coming for you, even with the sun still high up in sky. You wish more than ever, you could start over again-

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“Oh,” you groan, falling forward, unable to hold yourself up. The youngest of the pack wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace before your knees hit the ground.

Jimin looks around, the gem still heavy in his palm. “The necklace,” he murmurs. It didn’t glow red this time and yet-

“Jimin!” The merman hisses, glaring at the vampire who has somehow taken the gem from Yoongi without him noticing, “Don’t move.”

Jimin’s body, and mind, suddenly feel sluggish. It lasts only a moment before the vampire is shaking himself out of the merman’s mind control. Jimin can’t help but laugh at his weak attempt. 

“DON’T MOVE,” Yoongi bellows, his words echoing throughout the wolves’ den, and everyone, including Jimin, freezes.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?!” Namjoon grunts, stuck in place by the merman’s words.

“I don’t know how, but he stole that from me, from my pack.” The merman walks with purpose while Jimin struggles to move. 

Your eyes go wide when you notice what’s happened. “It’s not his fault,” you mumble, glancing at Namjoon, your eyes and mouth the only part of you able to move, “I think...w-we’re stuck in a time loop.”

“A w-what?” Hoseok grunts, trying with all his might to turn his head.

“W-Well...it’s a lot t-to explain and you’ll probably forget it all anyways,” you whine.

Namjoon raises his brow. He can only slightly move his neck now, and struggles to turn his head to look at you. “Perhaps you should explain anyways. Now.” His tone is serious, potentially menacing if you were being honest.

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know you don’t want him to, shit, what haven't I explained to you yet? Jimin hasn’t actually bitten me yet, well, technically not yet, he has, but it was before I came back, from the future, into now-another time thing.” You start to remember clearly now, though it seems to be still very hard to explain, “Anyways, I know about Jimin’s past! And everything, and-”

“Is she making sense to you?” Hoseok mutters.

“Oh you’re so lucky we haven’t had this conversation before or I would be really blowing your mind,” you grunt.

Jimin’s arms jerk backwards as he fights the merman’s impressive mind control. “It’s mine! Give it back!” Jimin hisses as Yoongi plucks the gem out of the vampire’s hand mere seconds before Jimin regains control of himself again.

“Jimin, we don’t have the time,” you groan, your limbs finally moving again. “Jimin!” you yell, pulling the vampire’s attention away before he attacks the merman in his anger. 

You struggle in Jungkook’s arms, holding out your wrist to Jimin hopefully. “You know what you have to do, before it happens again!” 

“No!” Jungkook barks, lifting you off your feet to end your advance. 

Jimin exhales. This is insufferable, you’re insufferable, you’re, fuck– It’s happening again. He bares his fangs, letting his anger simmer over this constant deja vu. 

“Wait! Let me see it, that necklace,” Seokjin steps forward curiously.

Yoongi throws his arm backwards out of the vampire’s reach, the gold chain accidentally hitting your outstretched hand.

The gem touching your finger.

It felt like just a graze, so quickly it couldn’t have been longer than a second. Yet you felt it through your whole body.

And then pulling right behind your ear. 

And finally you understood as the brightest flash of red light quickly comes and goes. You hear his voice again, commanding you to do something else, something horrible...

You want to tell them all to run, to escape, but the only words your lips can speak are-

“Taehyung, come in.”

The door shatters, knocking everyone inside to the ground.

The back of your ear feels like it’s on fire and like you summoned the devil himself, Taehyung appears behind you, lifting you up. “Ahh princess, now where did you put my jewel?”

You stand paralyzed by fear, as if gravity chained your limbs to your body.

“Taehyung, leave her alone!” Jungkook roars, and he somehow looks more imposing than the pack leader himself.

Taehyung laughs, looking around incredulously at the monsters surrounding him. 

“I’m saving her from you!” He pulls you close and despite your fear, you gravitate to him. It reminds you of Yoongi’s siren song, but more painful, dark, like ropes around your limbs, a noose around your throat. “You would rather use her, draining her life away because you want a pretty pet-” he looks at Seokjin, “-or keep her here on this island, chained like a prisoner, like you did to me! You just can’t see her potential!”

“You...betrayed Jimin...this is all your fault,” you grunt, barely able to speak the words out loud. 

Taehyung looks at you, eyes softening. “Your loyalty to my brother is sweet. After everything they did to you. You really are perfect. I knew it when I first met you, we were fated to meet. You were the one who was going to save me, and now I can save you.” He holds you close, embracing you how he always wanted to, no chains or shackles between you anymore. “You saw Jimin’s story and believed him. I’ll show you mine, y/n. You’ll see once and for all.”

Yoongi’s nose is bleeding from the explosion. He has the gem hidden in his palm. He doesn’t quite understand how Taehyung appeared so suddenly, or what the gem has to do with it, but he figures no good will come from Taehyung having it, and he intends to risk everything to keep it away from Taehyung. 

He looks at your pain stricken expression and suddenly realizes, no, he can’t risk everything.

“They should have cut off your hands,” Yoongi mutters, wiping away the dried blood from under his nose and standing up. “Thy were too nice to you. When I defeat you I’ll make sure your next cell is underground and twice as small,” the merman tries to goad Taehyung away from you.

“Monster,” Taehyung frowns. “Do you know how many humans he has killed, y/n? How many they’ve all killed? Have I ever killed anyone!” he yells.

“You were going to kill Seokjin!” Jimin argues.

“Seokjin is evil!” he yells back. “And not a human.”

“Okay, Taehyung, you want retribution, we’re all here now. So let y/n go, can’t you see how scared she is?” Namjoon questions, crouching low in fighting stance. His calmness is even more menacing than his anger, you think.

“She doesn’t want me to let her go,” Taehyung smiles, his chin pressing into your shoulder as he continues to hug you close. “Tell them you want to be with me.”

“I want to be with Taehyung,” you cry out, terrified how the words left your lips so quickly, of the way your control is slipping away.

“See, she’s my destiny.” He grins, triumph dripping from his words.

No, no, no. You clutch your chest, where the pain emanates the most, right over your heart.

“Oh, that’s where it went.” Taehyung sighs, petting your head softly. “I’m sorry, one of my attacks must have hit you hard. Let’s go back, out of reach this time. Now, where is my necklace? Tell me, y/n.”

Yoongi, Yoongi has it. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. Yoongi.

You clench your jaw so tight your teeth begin to hurt. “Who took it?” he asks sweetly.

“Yoongi...” You begin to cry. “Please don’t hurt him!”

The merman speaks up, “Oh, he won’t hurt me.”

“You haven’t changed at all, so arrogant, acting like you’re better than everyone else!” Taehyung says, staring at Yoongi’s closed fist. He flicks his wrist over, fingers pulling at the air. 

A glowing red light starts emanating from Yoongi’s palm, an inescapable power ready to burst from the tiny gem, red streaks of light between his fingers cut through the wolf’s den, knocking back anything it touches.

Yoongi yells in pain, but he refuses to let go of the necklace. 

Unlike the others, when the red light hits Taehyung, he can easily redirect it with his hand, and his beam hits Seokjin, knocking the vampire right in the chest.

You see singes across the eldest vampire’s body, his clothes tattered and deep burn scars across his skin. Yoongi’s hand looks charred too, he yells and doubles over in pain, still fighting to hold onto the necklace. The others are fast, dodging the attacks, but how long can they last? 

Hoseok is hit next, he turns into a wolf instantly, charging towards you. Namjoon runs in to attack Taehyung, who shifts your body in front of the leader. 

The wolves are trying so hard to save you from Taehyung, it breaks your heart to witness the pain they are going through. How can you save them? Protect them? You feel so useless, so human and fragile. A mere pawn in a game played between kings.

If only there was a way to restart this day again.

“Y/n, don’t,” Taehyung whispers in your ear.

The wolves are too worried for your safety to use their full force, something Taehyung uses to his full advantage as he moves closer to the merman still fighting to hold onto the gem.

Jimin doesn’t care about your safety. He crashes into both of you.

You feel the weight of both men on top of you, suffocating you as Taehyung covers your body with his to take the brunt of the vampire’s wild attacks.

However, Taehyung’s physical strength seems to be unmatched, he throws the vampire as if Jimin weighed nothing with only one arm, the other holding your wrist so you can’t get away.

He moves closer to the struggling merman.

This can’t be happening, it can’t end this way, after everything you’ve been through.

Perhaps it was how close to victory Taehyung had been, so close he was only thinking about the outcome of his winning, the great future ahead of him. He was distracted just enough, and the reigns he had held over you loosened just a bit. It cleared your mind just enough, made you hope, wish for help to come for Yoongi and the others.

Your wish fluttered inside you like a heartbeat, pulling you, and this time, pulling everyone…

Through time…

To a place where the merman had an advantage. Your wish was granted.

The thumping receded and seawater filled every space around you suddenly. You were underwater, deep in the sea. You looked around and saw red and blue flashes of light, the shadows of the beast’s bodies around you, blood like red ribbons leaving their wounds. You slowly kick towards the sky.

How deep are you? You don’t know if you can make it to get in air in time.

You scream, the sound muffled underwater, when fingers reach for your hair, jerking your head down.

It’s Jimin. By the look in his eyes you think he might drain you right here, let you drown in a sea of blood, but he reaches for your hand instead and pulls you to the surface at inhuman speed. 

Spluttering, you gasp in air as the ocean lights up the night with streaks of power flashing under water.

“You’re coming with me,” he grunts, dragging your body back to land.

“Yoongi! The others!”

“Hold your breath!” Jimin pulls you back under when Taehyung resurfaces.

You inhale in quickly. You see the sparkling merman’s tail reflecting under water as he attacks Taehyung again.

Red light explodes underwater. Pulsing through the ocean, knocking you back into Jimin. He pulls you away from the fighting, closer to shore until you can stand above water.

You try to keep up, but the night waves crash into your body knocking you off your feet. Jimin drops you into shallow water. You gasp for breath while he looks over you. It reminded you of when you first met him, the way his body is over yours. But his eyes aren’t the same, there’s no hatred in them like before, Jimin looks lost, Jimin looks…sad.

He grabs the front of your dress and rips it, exposing your cleavage. Your arms cover your chest and he yanks those away too. You almost scream, but he doesn’t do anything but look at you. Then his finger traces the scars on your chest, making you shudder. The scar lines form a deep v across your chest, connecting around your neck.

“It was you.” He grips your neck, startling you. “Fix it. Now!”

Moonlight is speckling the ocean’s surface. The water calmer than usual. “Take us back to before Taehyung arrived. Before…” he shudders, looking out at the ocean, up towards the moon angrily. “This is your fault.” Jimin lunges for you, his claws pulled quickly away by Jungkook rushing to your side. Jungkook picks up your exhausted body, wading deeper in the water, glaring at the vampire. “Let’s go.”

“Follow me.” Yoongi yells, further out.

When you reach Yoongi, the youngest reluctantly hands you to him. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“He…took the necklace,” Yoongi says bitterly. “Ready?”

You look at the dark water all around you. “W-Where are we going?”

“My home.”

-

Yoongi swims down to the sea floor. You hold his hand, let the current and his strong fin lead you to the furthest depths of the ocean.

There’s no light, only the faint sparkling reflection of Yoongi’s tail is visible to your human eyes.

Your feet touch the sandy floor. The pain in your ears lessens the longer Yoongi breathes air into you. It’s an odd feeling, walking the sea floor, a place certainly no other living human could walk alone.

‘Jin.’ Your body stiffens in fright. You see the vampire, lying suspended upon the ocean floor. It frightens you how dead he looks, floating there, but for as long as you’ve known him, Jin has always been dead, hasn't he? Jimin passes, hooking Seokjin’s floating arm over his shoulder and pulling the vampire along.

You reach an underwater cave and swim inside. It’s tunnels are vast. The coral crevices hold things, some are man-made items, some magical.

The coral of the cave winds around, creating tunnels that are compact, walls that are cramped together. It’s dark and lonely inside, there is no light, no warmth. Is this where Yoongi stayed? It makes you feel sorry for the merman, makes you want to fill his life with warmth. He swims around quickly pulling things from inside the pockets of coral.

It’s impressive how the wolves can hold their breath, but even at this depth for so long they are having trouble. Even you are almost out of the air Yoongi gave you.

The merman swims to the cave’s bottom. There’s a purple wooden door situated at the cave floor with a spoked handle. The color reminds you of the one in Seokjin’s office. He begins to turn the vault handle quickly, unlocking the door. You watch, holding your body against one of the coral walls, making sure you don't float away. 

You begin to choke on water. The door opens finally and the others rush inside, quickly escaping down into the depths. Yoongi finds you, kissing you. Slowly, taking his time now. 

Submerged in the water, floating, he became the only thing that grounded you. You wish you could speak underwater and tell him how sorry you were for letting Taehyung inside, for causing this all to happen. You kept your lips pressed to his, hoping to convey how apologetic you felt. Yoongi hugs you close and dives into the vault.

You break the surface of the water, somehow right side up now. You wipe the water away from your face as Yoongi holds you to him. You look around the small cave, a part of the underground cave system inside the island. You look down at your bodies still submerged in the water, you should be upside down. How is that possible?

It never ceases to amaze you, the magicalness of this place.

“How is he?” you call out.

“I’ve seen better days.” The vampire in question grunts. Seokjin has definitely seen better days, the usually put together vampire is the most beaten you’ve ever seen him, lying on the cave floor unable to move.

“Jin, would it help?” you offer your wrist to him. You were the only human here.

Seokjin swallows, “Yes.”

“Let me help him,” you beg the others. Namjoon lifts you out of the cave pool. Everyone looks so beaten they don't fight you, they stay silent as you make your way to Seokjin.

“Are you sure, Dove?” he grunts.

You nod, lying against him, finally letting your tired muscles relax. Seokjin drank from you countless of times before, what’s one more?

---

Jimin breaks Seokjin’s jade statue, smashing it to pieces.

“Get away from me!” he screams, “w-who are you?!”

You see Seokjin and Namjoon standing next to him. And you see Hoseok. You see Taehyung.

“Is it normal to forget?” Taehyung asks, watching Jimin curiously.

“No…no,” Seokjin swallows. Had Seokjin really been too late to save Jimin?

Jimin screams and screams, clawing at his throat. It’s dry and itchy, he feels like he’s burning from the inside out. “Stop. Stop it!” The pain won’t stop!

“He needs blood,” Hoseok says, his tone urgent and worried.

“If we bring someone to the island, he’s not going to be able to control himself.”

“I’ll find someone no one will miss,” Hoseok suggests.

“No, it’s still a life.” Namjoon interjects, watching the display, clenching his jaw when Jimin screams again.

“And what about Jimin?!” Hoseok argues. “What about his life?!” You can feel his anger, you feel it too within Seokjin.

“If it’s someone who deserves it, someone bad?” Taehyung speaks up, wincing as he watches his friend writhe in pain.

“Let’s go hunt one last time, old friend,” Seokjin mumbles, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes, watching instead the horrible state Jimin is in.

“Okay, okay.”

It was an easier find than they had thought. During a dark club night, the music boomed as a regular flirted with a young woman. Upon entering the club, Namjoon and Seokjin noticed all the tell tale signs immediately, the signs of a predator..

While Namjoon bumped into the couple, and riled up the man by cozying up to his unsuspecting victim, Seokjin quickly switched their drinks, the one the man had spiked for his date switched with his clean one. While the drug worked its magic, you looked around the club, listening to old music. You watched the bodies on the dance floor move together in almost one fluid motion. You missed it, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve had that kind of fun. Your heart raced as the beat of the song quickened, as urgency ran through the vampire’s cold veins instead of blood. You want to dance. You want to kill that man. You want to save Jimin. Complicated emotions filter through Seokjin and into you.

Your mouth goes slack as you press your body closer, your hands fisting Seokjin’s tattered shirt. “You’re taking too much!” Namjoon barks. 

“I’m sorry.” Seokjin licks your wounds clean as your vision goes hazy and you slump against him. No, you wanted to see more, to listen to more-

---

“Where are you, sweetheart?”

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung covers your cheek with his hand. “Tell me where you are so I can find you, get you away from them.”

“No! You stay away from them!”

Taehyung’s arms cage you in, his body above yours. “Y/n, please,” he begs, lowering himself over you. “I can leave the island now, but I don't want to go, not without you.” He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you close to him in a suffocating embrace. “Please come with me, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Despite everything, you feel sorry for him as he shakes against you.

No, no, no! He’s the same man who tried to betray Seokjin. What would he have done to Jimin if he had succeeded? What is he going to do to you? You press against his shoulders, trying to push him off of you. Taehyung covers your lips with his own, lessening your resolve.

His lips work a different kind of magic, he presses his tongue inside your mouth, runs it over your own, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. You grip his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or closer. He kisses you for so long you wonder how he hasn’t broken away to take a breath, you wonder why you don’t have the need to either.

You gasp when Taehyung decides to move lower down your body, his lips licking across your neck. By now, he’s made sure to keep you locked to him, holding onto both your wrists so you can’t push against him. Even when he shifts his digits and intertwines your fingers, he keeps his weight heavy on you.

“It’s not fair, I can only have you in my dreams like this,” he chuckles against your skin. “Please be with me. Together we can explore the whole world, do whatever we want.” Taehyung was so excited to see all the new technology you had described to him during your long visits. He wants to experience it all with you.

You take in a ragged breath, suppressing a moan every time he sucks and rolls his tongue over your skin. “Promise me you won’t hurt them.”

“I promise.”

You don’t believe him.

You can’t believe him.

It feels like a lie, it all feels like a lie.

“Where are you?”

“In a cave.”

“There are thousands of caves on the island, do you know where?”

“I d-don’t know.”

It’s true you don't know, but there are words you could use to describe the cave. You could tell Taehyung how you got there, about Yoongi’s magical door. But you bite those words down, hiding the whole truth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” He rests his forehead against yours, runs his thumb over your kiss bitten lips. He can't wait to have you, to mark you, to make you like him.

You touch the necklace dangling from Taehyung’s neck, and he rips your hand away, gripping your wrist so tightly you can feel the pressure in your bones.

Fear trickles down your spine and catches in your throat once you realize how entangled you are to him, how easily he could hurt you if he wanted to. The Taehyung you knew had been so unthreatening, like a lonely puppy tied to a tree, only wanting attention.

The shackles took away any threatening aura, you only ever felt safe with him, you hadn't yet known what he was capable of...

Taehyung feels your heart beat jumping against his lips. “You’re scared of me, why?” he frowns. “Have I ever given you a reason to believe I would ever hurt you? Jimin hurt you, Seokjin hurt you,” he adds.

You swallow, unable to answer him. He’s right.

“If you hated Seokjin so much...why did you want to become like him?”

Taehyung holds you loosely now, smiling softly. “You know...Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook, their powers slow their aging, but one day, they’re going to grow old, they’re going to grow weak. They’re going to die,” he hums.

“T-That’s no excuse-”

“Sometimes we have to lose everything to gain everything.”

“Is that what you told Jimin before you took everything from him?!”

“Seokjin’s affliction really did rub off on you. What will you say when you make him remember and he still wants to rip your throat out?”

You swallow, silenced by his words.

“Tell me where you are so I can protect you,” he presses his lips upon the column of your neck tenderly.

“T-The cave-”

“Yes?” Taehyung runs his tongue along your throat, enjoying the way you tremble against him.

“-a d-door-”

His hands knead your side, up your body, gripping your mounds, caressing your suppleness.

“A door? Invite me in then, sweetheart.”

Your fingers tangle his hair, pulling him closer to you. Then run down his neck, slipping under his necklace.

You yank the gold chain, screaming.

---

“You’re awake,” Jungkook says happily. You’re lying nestled in between bodies, warm in the otherwise cold and dark cave. “Are y-you okay?”

You close your eyes, calming down, shaking your head, worried your words won’t be your own.

Namjoon holds your hand, “Y/n, can you tell us anything about what happened to the watch I gave you?”

Your hand cups your neck, where Seokjin’s bite is now healed over. “T-Taehyung, he said he would ‘fix’ the watch for me. He must have, because...it must have been, three months ago? I found that red amulet, it was from Seokjin’s shop, it appeared in my hand and then I heard Taehyung’s voice in my head, and…and I-I had no control...” You remember it clearly now, “The watch took me back in time and broke as soon as I used it.”

You look down at your hands. “But I still had the one I hadn’t used yet, from this time…” you say, absentmindedly touching your collarbone out of reflex. “When the explosion happened, I-I don’t know, I-I lost them.” Namjoon inspects your neck, gently adjusting the torn fabric of your dress.

He looks over his shoulder, where the merman lazily swims in the cave pool. “Yoongi?” he asks. 

“The stronger the magic, the more uncontrollable it becomes. If Taehyung’s attack hit her...and the watch…anything could be possible.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Does that human brain of yours not work at all anymore?” Hoseok complains, sitting at the top of your head, looking down at you with crossed arms. “The watch’s magic, it’s inside you.”

“...what,” you ask horrified. You trace the scars across your chest, running up your clavicle and around your neck.

“You were trying to protect yourself from Taehyung,” Yoongi says knowingly. “You took us forward in time.”

Yoongi had noticed the stronger tides, looked up at the moon, and realized the phase had shifted 4 days ahead.

But how could that be? Then when he mentioned it to the others, they all realized…

“I-I can’t control it.”

“And we’re not even sure what it does to her when she uses it,” Hoseok says, concerned, thinking the worst. There is no telling what will happen to you in the end, are you losing hours off your life? Days? 

“Where’s Jimin?”

“Cooling off, taking a late night swim.” Seokjin sighs. “Dove, what happened between you and Jimin in this future of yours that makes you think he will be so cooperative?”

It felt wrong, telling his story, intimate memories that he didn’t even have the chance to see yet. “His past…”

“You know his whole past?” Hoseok asks. You nod. “And you trust him? After everything you know?”

“You don’t know what he’s been through! Taehyung-”

“They worked together to betray us all,” Hoseok scoffed.

You shake your head. “Taehyung knew Jimin before he knew you, Hoseok.” You’ve seen enough of their memories together to see how protective Hoseok had been over Taehyung. But the secrets Jimin and Taehyung had kept weren’t even knowledgeable to Jimin anymore.

“No-”

“Yes.”

“Did you know about this?” Hoseok turns to his pack leader. 

He shakes his head no, “They acted like strangers. Did you know?” Namjoon turns to Seokjin.

“He didn’t speak much of his childhood, even when he was human.” Seokjin hums, “The few memories of his childhood I pulled did not have any indication they knew each other. They had only become close after Jimin was turned.”

“No, they were always close.” you say, sure of yourself. “I can’t prove it, yet, but I don’t think what happened was an accident,” you look at Hoseok. “It wasn’t your fault you lost control, Hoseok.”

Hoseok's eyes start to shine in the shadows of the cave as tears well up. “No,” he says in disbelief. It was his fault. He turned Taehyung into a beast like him, and he’s never forgiven himself because of it.

He shakes his head, unable to let your words really hit him.

“Well, we can only learn the whole truth from Jimin himself. Help me this time, please?”

---

Jimin returns later than usual, right before sunrise, his mind no less at ease.

-

“Well, it almost worked last time.” 

-

Has Seokjin been drinking from you this whole time?! Jimin scoffs, settling himself away from you and the others. 

Seokjin does it messily, letting the blood drip down your shoulder, covering your chest in the red liquid.

You let a soft whimper escape your lips, moaning. Seokjin’s hand moves from your hip to resting between your legs

“Are you going to be doing that all day?!” Jimin barks, his words echoing in the small cave.

“You haven’t drank in a while, brother. Come drink.” Jimin swallows hard, smelling your blood, the sweet iron scent fills the cave. He remembers the previous time loop, the taste of your blood still a strong memory. It never happened, he hasn’t really tasted you, yet that’s now all he can think about. He remembers it distantly like a dream. Or rather a nightmare, how can you possibly be this annoying to him without even trying? Jimin silently seethes as his throat becomes itchier and drier.

Jimin looks over at the wolves, who seem to be minding their own business. There is no way they are not affected by this...lewd display! He narrows his eyes on Hoseok, the jealous one, who sits crossed-legged and crossed-arms, eyes closed and jaw clenched.

-

“You’re joking?”

“No, I saw them do it before with other girls,” you mutter, unable to meet Hoseok's eyes, “in Seokjin’s memories.”

-

Jungkook rests his head against the pack leader’s shoulder, shaking his legs to a song in his head he is using to distract himself, and Namjoon acts completely unaffected. Jimin scoffs, Namjoon sure has the best poker face, but Jimin knows this is bothering the pack. They probably finally figured out they’re weaker ones amongst them, Jimin thinks.

“Well if you won’t, then I will.” Namjoon speaks up.

Namjoon pulls your leg, pulling you closer to him as he crawls over you. His strong hands press your legs open so he can settle in between them.

“You know my kind bites too. We don’t do it to suck blood, our bite is different. But, I wouldn’t mind eating you up,” Namjoon teases, his deep voice even deeper in his gruffness.

You know this is just an act, but your heart escalates at the thought, remembering the younger werewolf acting so brazenly. Devious suits Namjoon so well, the roughness in his nature is so attractive.

Jimin grits his teeth at such a revolting thought.

“You’re just going to let him put his filthy paws all over her? You’re going to hand her over just like that?”

“I haven’t let her go.” Seokjin caresses your temples, smearing blood across your face. “We used to do this all the time. I’ve gotten used to Namjoon’s scent.”

Jimin looks away, looking for the merman, someone else he can yell at.

“Joon, wait. Jimin, did you want to drink from me instead?”

“No thanks,” Jimin hisses.

You look back at Namjoon. Seokjin lifts your hand to his mouth, biting down on the fleshy part of your palm. It hurts, he is usually better at making the pain feel pleasurable, but his objective isn’t your pleasure, it’s to cause maximum blood flow, to make you cry out in pain, knowing your whimpers will entice Jimin the most.

Namjoon’s lets his teeth scrape across your thigh. “Shh little Dove.” He uses the pet name Seokjin gave you. “Don’t cry, I’ll make you sing.”

It’s so hot in this goddamn cave. The smell of everyone’s arousal is assaulting, inescapable.

“My turn next,” Hoseok calls out.

“I’m going to mark her as my mate,” Jungkook growls, eyes darkened at the sight of you writhing in pleasure and pain.

Jimin has had it. He has had to endure being in their company for this long, but now the dogs want to defile what is his? Yes, you are his and Seokjin’s! They paid fairly for you, you would be dead if it were not for them. You are theirs! You are his. And you are the only human left on this damned island, Jimin had searched all night for any signs of life to no avail.

“I’m going to rip out your teeth,” Jimin threatens lowly.

“Did you say something?” Hoseok says flippantly.

“You don’t think I know what you’re all doing?”

You look between yourselves in silence.

“You’re just giving up! Taehyung really turned you into a bunch of cowardly dogs. You’re just gonna stay in this cave like a bunch of animals in heat while Taehyung does god knows what!?”

You continue to look between yourselves in silence.

He points at you. “She said if I bit her, we could stop Taehyung!” He yanks you to your feet so hard you feel the whiplash in your bones. “Isn’t that right? SO WHY ARE YOU WASTING YOUR PRECIOUS TIME WITH THEM?!” Jimin yells so loud his words echo over and over again.

You blink. “You’re right, Jimin.”

Jimin moves behind you, tilting your head. He licks the old blood off your shoulder, suppressing a groan at the taste. “If this doesn’t work-” he growls.

“It will.”

“Then I wont stop until it does.” All your blood will be Jimin’s one way or another.

He licks his lips before sinking his teeth into the column of your neck.

---

Just like that, you and Jimin revisit his bedroom, a memory you both shared, your past and his future had Taehyung’s plan not have worked.

-

Jimin roars, pulling away. Your body spasms with too much blood loss. Jimin looks down, your blood covering his body, his pants undone. How is he in bed with you? He was just in the merman’s cave, drinking your blood.

No, he is in the merman’s cave. This is a memory.

Jimin remembers. 

He gently turns your body over. Your breathing is ragged, strained, your eyes try to focus on the vampire above you.

Now you remember, it was the first time Jimin looked at you without hatred in his eyes. Tearing the flesh from his arm, he puts the wound over your mouth and you drink until your body relaxes. Then cautiously, Jimin lowers himself over you again, ready to see more.

---

Jin steps closer, followed by the rest of the men. 

Was Jimin still drinking from you?

Neither of you made any movement.

You both fell to your knees with Jimin’s fangs deep in your neck, your eyes glazed over and out of focus. 

“What happened?” Namjoon whispers to the eldest vampire. He wasn’t quite sure, neither of you were responsive, both lost in your heads. 

“Little Dove?”

---

I am so excited to write some backstory finally!!! Are you excited for the next chapter?

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED BTS FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Bad Boy || @i-am-baechu🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Yoongi has been best friends with Namjoon since he was seven. He knew his little sister was always off limits but Yoongi never followed the rules. (we love it when siblings are supportive of them crushes. we gotta give respect to yoongi for not pursuing his crush to not risk his friendship with namjoon. but also props to namjoon for not getting pissed off when they finally got together though.)

Partner Privileges || @7ndipity💕✅💯

↳ (imma need me a man to give me partner privileges like this yoongi right here. like my man yoongi is a whole ass softie. i love it.)

Sharp Teeth || @dearly-somber💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ Jungkook—a love struck puppy pining for Y/N’s affection. Y/N—an obvious, hard-headed tsundere too thick to realize a shifter likes her. What could go wrong? (i have a HUUUUUUUUGE soft spot for fantasy fics (mainly werewolf fics and stuff, and i solely blame my 13 year old self watching twilight LOL). like if you are writing a werewofl/hybrid/shifter fic just know that is going to be automatically be in my reading list. when i came across this one, oh lord have mercy. read all of them in one sitting PLUS its still ongoing to. imma have a field day with this one i know it.)

Finding Your Boyfriend Sleeping In Your Hyperfeminine Pink Room || @rrjkive💕✅

↳ (theres no summary, but we just gotta love soft jungkook you know. like with the live of him just sleeping on live is freaking adorable and you can literally picture this big ass man with THAT HELLO KITTY THATS IN HIS LIVING ROOM and the man is just hugging that sht to death while sleeping.)

Five More Minutes || @7ndipity💕✅

↳ Anon Req: "Having to stand up in the morning with yoongi but not wanting to. cuddling and trying to stay in bed as long as possible instead" (i love soft yoongi, in this world, alternative world, ANY WORLD LIKE SOFT YOONGI IS SUPERIOR.)

Was It Better? || @gyukookswhore🔞✅

↳ Jungkook has been acting weird lately in bed, but your not complaining about it or are you ? (you know how it was literally no nut november for fics, well, lets just say that half of these fics on this list is literally smut. that says a lot. aka i clearly did not get the memo since i read mostly smut LOL. but this fic, is so detailed that i could read it again ngl.)

Wonderstruck || @jinkookspencil💕✅

↳ jungkook convinced his fearful girlfriend to try out a rollercoaster at the funfair… (honestly the ask that was sent to op was perfect. like stop this sht is fcking cute. got me giggling in bed kicking my feet and sht.)

Animal Farm || @joonberriess🔞✅

↳ (there was no summary, but holy jesus, this was literally a wild ride. like without reading the tags and tw, but the title alone, i thought this was going to be a lil cute fic about farming you know. BUT NO THIS WAS NOT ABOUT FARMING WHAT SO EVER BUT THIS WAS A WILD WILD RIDE. i say give it a read if you are like me who forgets to read the tags and tw (which is prob not a good thing) but its a suprise everytime i read something.)

Biker!Kook || @lustfuldevils💕✅💯

↳ (there was no summary exactly, but lets just say that im a sucker for biker!kook + reader. whether the reader is like innocent type or just a regular...person??? like personality wise you know. i dont know if that made any sense, but you know what im talking about..hopefully)

Every Little Thing || @7ndipity💔✅💯

↳ When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him. (i like to torture myself by reading angst that makes me feel sad and sht. honeslty love this one + im pretty sure theres like 3-4 fics from this op on this list. hi just wanted to say that i love your writing.)

Forest Bride || @flowerwrites06🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ The business transaction of a marriage between two previous warring clans takes an unexpected turn. (i love how yoongi automatically became protective over oc while she was slightly closed off due to their past experience. like all hail yoongi.)

Lost & Found || @theharrowing💕💔✅

↳ Taehyung just wants to be left alone. Too bad you need a place to stay. (i honestly love fics where its told from the members pov. like it gives us a chance to read about what they would do and say (even if its fiction you know) like it gives us a different pov then other fics where its mainly through a third-person pov or like the readers pov. love this)

My Alpha || @btsbrat🔞✅💯

↳ you discover that the soon to be alpha, Jungkook, is your destined mate. However, your story takes an unexpected turn when Jungkook rejects the mate bond. (i honestly thought that this fic wouldve been longer, you know just to prolong the rejection and what jk would do, but this pace is also good too. i hope that op makes a longer version where it involves like the in between you know! not that op has to make a longer ver, i also love this ver too!)

Of Storms and Vampires || @wishesunderthestars💕💔🔄💯

↳ During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn't simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook's sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago. (this is still currently ongoing but i havent read many vampire!bts fics BUT lets just say, bats be cute and sht but deadly. cant wait to read the future chapters. also this is first chapter isnt rushed or anything so it def caught my reading eye for sure. went at a nice pace, not too fast, not too slow which i love)

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[academically-stupid]

Avalon | Prologue

poly!bts x male!reader | vampire!AU | reader x vampire!bts | ot7 x male!reader

Caught one night when bathing in the river by his home M/n is taken by a group of men. Realising the situation he has found himself in, M/n's number one priority is getting out of there alive. Easier said than done when you've got to get past seven bloodthirsty and ridiculously horny vampires hellbent on making him their newest blood bag.

A/N: I got inspired while reading @colormepurplex2 's series, so go show her some support!! This is my first fic so pls give me advice or write if you notice any mistakes. Yess DPR IAN is my face claim for M/n, I love this man too much. Thank you thank you, enjoy!

His hands trembled as he followed the black-haired man down the hallway, thoughts running and changing faster than his mind could keep up with. Was this it? Was this where his life would end? Not that there was much of a life to begin with, but he had so many things he had yet to do, so many sights and places he hoped he would one day be able to see, even if only for a moment.

Stopping in front of a large oak door he paused, leaving a good distance between him and his kidnappers, just what did they want with him? If they were going to kill him then do it already? Why make him wait, why prolong the inevitable?

The man in front of him sighed, causing him to freeze up. Shit. Did he say something? Has he somehow made his situation even worse by making it seem as though he had not been listening, choosing to actively ignore the all-powerful man in front of him? The man who held his very life in the palm of his hands, free to do with it as he pleased. Free to end it any way he wanted. 

“You know," he said, looking back at him "for someone who doesn’t speak, you sure do have a lot to say”. Turning around he opened the door, with the taller man begrudgingly following shortly behind.

Beautiful. Truly whoever had decorated this building- this mansion- deserved the highest of praise. Deep maroon walls surrounded him, the colour seeming to match the aura of the brooding man before him. Only one window seemed visible, and even then, the curtains that hung from the high ceilings, cascading like a bloody waterfall, seemed to cover what little light managed to fight its way through.

“Well, are you going to come in or am I going to have to pull you in here myself?” Was all he said, cocking his head slightly, as though giving him a choice. Quickly he shuffled in as fast as his feet could make him. The illusion of a choice

Sure he didn’t really think this would in any way put a stop to his inevitable doom, but maybe listening to them would make the end less painful. Even if it sounded stupid in his head, the idea of there being even the slightest chance at a painless end spurred him to bite his tongue and do as the men told him.

Sitting down on the bed that stood in the middle of the room, the centrepiece, the man gestured to the space in front of him. Too close. He wanted him far too close for his liking. But what choice did he have? 

Begrudgingly he slowly made his way towards the man. Though perhaps he was too slow because the next thing he knows he’s being pulled by the arm, tripping over his own feet, falling to his knees in front of a now annoyed vampire. Shit.

A rhetorical question. He was obviously not expecting an answer from the man kneeling before him who had yet to say a single word. Did he not know that staying silent was useless, that he could hear his thoughts over the span of an entire forest? The very thing that got him into this situation in the first place? 

‘No’ Yoongi thought to himself, letting out a deep breath of frustration. There had to be more to it.

Of all the people Namjoon could have chosen from, why had it been him who was stuck on babysitting duty? No, babysitting was the wrong word for his current situation. The way that the man in front of him carried himself. The way he kept his legs tucked underneath him, hands clasped together on his thighs, the slight tremble visible only to the perseptive eyes of him and his brothers.

This felt closer to pet sitting if anything. He had not been blind to the way that he always kept a safe distance between himself and any of the guys in the house. Sighing he got up, for once having enough of the silence. The man was quick to jump to his feet. Whether to fight, run or hide Yoongi wasn’t certain.

"Stay here," he said walking towards the door he just came from. He had heard the front door open and close shut, signaling the return of the others. "I'll be right back, and I think we both know it would be in your best interest to stay put."

And with that, the door was closed. Sealing yet another victims fate.

Yet something kept bother Yoongi, as he walked down the corridor towards his brothers study, where the rest of them were bound to already be lounging about.

Why was this new humans scent so enticing? Was it even healthy for a living breathing human being to smell that much like death? Whatever it was Yoongi knew they were going to figure it out, with or without your cooperation.

One thing was for sure though;

This was gonna be a pain.

[sweetestofchaos]

Run From Me Masterlist | K.TH

You ran away from him. Again. What did this make, now? How many times had he let you slip through his fingers? As much as he loved to tease, the game of cat and mouse had long since lost its humor. This new game, this punishment…Taehyung hated it.

p. vampire!taehyung x vampire hunter!reader

g. soulmates - lovers to enemies - enemies to lovers - reincarnation

r. 21+

w. mentions of blood - murder - mentions of torture - verbal threats - blood play - blood drinking (vampires duh!) - physical violence - choking - dubcon - noncon - use of magic - mind control - eventual smut - warnings will be updated as the story goes on...

cwc. 11.3k

an. dni, support and barbed wire divider made by @benkeibear, banners by @outromoni and fic betaed by @theharrowing

an. THIS WILL BE DEAD DOVE

✘ one ✘ two ✘ three ✘ four ✘ five

✘ six ✘ seven ✘ eight ✘ nine ✘ ten

retired banners / moodboards

[euphoricfilter]

Ddlg/bunny hybrid/vampire - Jin? Or namjoon maybe? “Careful bunny, your to little for that”

lavender lemonade:

pairing: vampire! namjoon x bunny hybrid! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || established relationship || 19th century au || hybrid au || vampire au

summary: you love spring and namjoon loves you.

word count: 1.1k

tags/ warnings: fluff, blood, dd/lg themes, 19th century vampire lover namjoon who’s obsessed with his pretty bunny love, suggestive content

notes: prompt from this drabble game!! and yes i did look up if lemonade existed in the 19th century :’)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Spring had always been your favourite, watching the world bloom flowers of every colour; where the air smelt sweeter, and the sun kissed your cheeks warm of a morning, peeking through holes in clouds and gaps in the leaves of trees, while butterflies fluttered their delicate wings and birds glide on a soft breeze over the hills.

You liked spring because Namjoon would take you away for a season, having been cooped up for three of them in a year, his planned trips to a small cottage in the wildflower field had soon become your favourite. And maybe it was because it was just the two of you, no maids tittering about how handsome their master was, nor any sour looking etiquette teachers that simply didn’t like you for the fact you we’re betrothed to Namjoon, a vampire of all things.

Where the whole world was seemingly against your relationship with him, though he never seemed to take much notice of the gossip that echoed down the halls like ghosts were whispering secrets to any passer-by.

With his position as duke in high society he doubted many people would ever truly speak up against his relationship with you, warnings of men that had mysteriously disappeared after objecting your engagement enough of a threat, that no one had stepped forward to stop Namjoon’s impending marriage with you.

The controversy stemmed from him being part of the vampiric population; small but ever growing. Sub-human as society had deemed them, your kind even lesser known about than his.

But as much as the rest of the high society wanted to banish him and yourself from the country, he’d established his own dukedom, built himself up from the ashes; a roaring flame that took and took and took until the royals feared what his next move would be, simply letting him live among them to placate the rage they knew simmered underneath his skin.  

And you often worried the hearsay of him being associated with the devil, perhaps moulded by a witch, awful awful rumours about vampires being spread across lands far from your own, though your worry only seemed to sink Namjoon further into the abyss of loving you, where he’d sunk so deep, he could no longer see the light, no longer grasp onto any surface to bring him out of this new world. One where he was solely consumed by your very existence.

Spring was Namjoon’s favourite because it was yours, whatever you loved he loved too. His precious little bunny, where he planned to serve you the world on a platter encrusted with diamonds, even if it meant he had to commit treason, overthrowing the king and taking the crown as his prize, a shiny little gift to keep your eyes shimmering like the stars you cherished.

He adored your very existence, worshipped the ground you stood on, body ever so delicate he made sure you never had to lift a finger if he knew it were to bring any damage.

He brought you to the flower field every spring, made sure he had gardeners working all year round just for this moment. He often paints a picture of your face in his mind, never letting other lowly painter to stare at your precious face for too long; for that was his job, having you sit for hours as brush meets page and then your face hung on every blank wall of the estate.

You always spend the spring together; he leaves work behind and every waking hour he dedicates to you.

The first night at the cottage is always the same, with you laid over Namjoon’s lap as he plays the piano; your legs hanging off the edge of the bench, where a stray cat would often slip through an open window and tickle your toes with its little button nose before settling over your chest.

With those silent sleepy moment before bed when Namjoon’s lips skim over your wrist, pointed canines barely brushing over your skin until you’re muffling a whine behind your free hand when his teeth sink into you. As much of a claim on you as it is his meal, mark never truly healing before he’s sinking his fangs back into your pretty skin.

Every morning Namjoon would brush your hair, always careful of your bunny ears before fluffing out your tail and dressing you in frilly dresses with frilly socks and bows in your hair and around your cotton tail; calling you his pretty doll before he’s carrying you into the kitchen, sitting you on the counter as he feeds you little pieces of bread dipped in honey. Lips sticky and kiss deliciously sweet, always teasing with his tongue and impatient fingers that flitter over delicate skin, under skirts and over places no one else will ever see nor ever get a glimpse of.

He sits on a chair under a tree while you lay on the grass, fragile fingers making matching daisy chain crowns and rings made of even smaller flowers; you like to pretend you’re already married, giggling when he presses kisses to each and every one of your fingertips before he’s pushing the dainty flower ring onto your finger, and asking once again if you’ll tie your soul to his for the rest of eternity.

He particularly enjoys feeding you fresh fruit of an afternoon, thumb brushing over sun-kissed cheeks and watching as you lick the sweet juice from the pads of his fingers. Maybe indulging you with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, feeling you hollow your cheeks as he reads you a novel as the sky blends from bright blue to burnt oranges and lilacs.  

“Careful bunny, you’re too little for that” his fingers grasp your wrist, other hand plucking the small garden scissors from your fingers, “Let me do it for you” he brushes your hair behind your ear.

Your fingers fiddle with the lacy trim of your skirt, watching Namjoon brush gentle fingers over flimsy petals, you hum when he touches over a flower you’re particularly fond of, watching as he snips the stem, handing it to you ready for the bouquets you planned to put in vases around the cottage.

You sneeze, sound akin to a squeak when you press a flower too close to your nose, pollen ticklish until you’re giggling, hands holding onto Namjoon’s bulging biceps, so you don’t tip over.

“You’ll give yourself a headache small thing, here” he plucks a piece of lavender from the soil, rubbing the corolla between his fingers.

You watch as he brings them up to your nose, and he watches as it twitches in interest, “We should make lavender lemonade” your voice barely above a whisper, soft, carried by the warm spring breeze.

Lavender fingertips brush against your cheek, and you feel the silky residue cling to your skin, “Cute” a deep laugh rumbles from Namjoon’s chest, smile wide enough that his dimples show.

Your eyes flutter closed when he leans forward, kiss pressed over the lavender tinge on your cheek, “Lavender lemonade sounds delicious, my love”

🌼 thank you for reading!! feedback is always encouraged <3

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

[spookyserenades]

Sanctity Masterlist

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Vampire!AU, yandere!AU, horror, themes of the supernatural and mythology, historical topics, vampiric powers, religious themes, violence, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, toxic behavior including stalking, torture, and manipulation, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

The world revolves around powerful, deadly creatures, their every whim catered to– vampires. Humans with rare blood types are kept in large Sanctuaries around the world, where they can be hand-picked by vampires and their covens to become live-in blood banks. Y/N, who had been trapped in a Sanctuary for ten years thanks to her ultra-rare blood type, is acutely aware of just how vicious vampires are. Though she wishes for freedom she once had when she was fifteen, if it came at the cost of being at the mercy of terrifying beings, she would remain within the halls of the Sanctuary forever.

  Covens as large as seven individual vampires are exceedingly hard to come by, especially an all-male coven. Brought together by their skewed views of reality, twisted minds, strong powers and connections, and blood-soaked pasts, seven vampires move to a new city in search of their perfect human to feed from. Though the town of Newport, Rhode Island, is sleepy, it holds a secret past, one that’s perfect to set the stage for a complicated, dark future. With a particular taste for the rarest types of blood, the coven discovers an acolyte with irresistible pull in a nearby Sanctuary– and they can’t wait to see what she can endure.

TO JOIN THE TAGLIST PLEASE CLICK HERE!

Ko-fi 💜

MAIN STORY;

Find Sanctity on Ao3 and Wattpad, too!

Chapter One posted 10.3.24; 22.8k words

Teasers for Chapter One

DRABBLES;

coming soon! requests via ask box

EXTRAS;

Sanctity Playlist

Moodboards - Seokjin . Yoongi . Hoseok . Namjoon . Jimin . Taehyung . Jeongguk

My Pinterest

Rough character profiles

Tour of the setting

PREQUELS;

Marauder  Hoseok, coming soon!

Chiaroscuro Yoongi, coming soon!

Gilded Taehyung, coming soon!

Devotion Jimin, coming soon!

Taeja  Seokjin, coming soon!

Scarface Jeongguk,coming soon!

Hwando  Namjoon, coming soon!

[smileyoongle]

Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader

Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU

Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.

A/N- Hi guys, this chapter is not essentially a chapter in the series. It is more like an explanation of the current world order in the series' timeline. Please remember, there is going to be no taglist for this series, so keep your notifications on. Okay bye :-)

The Exodus: Unveiling the Origins and Consequences of the Night-Walker Dominion

By Elara Claxon

July 14th 1324

Three thousand years ago, the world witnessed a cataclysmic event known as The Exodus. It was a day when Hell, overwhelmed by an unprecedented number of sinners, could no longer contain them. In an act of desperation, the Devil unleashed these tormented souls upon the Earth, transforming them into vampires. They emerged from their graves, giving birth to an era of terror and bloodshed. These night-walkers, driven by an insatiable thirst for blood, wreaked havoc across the world, decimating entire populations and forcing humanity into hiding.

For years, humans struggled to survive, constantly on the run, seeking refuge from their relentless pursuers. In the midst of this chaos, they began to uncover the weaknesses of these creatures and devise means to counter their strength. It was during this dark period that two self-chosen leaders emerged—Theron for the humans and Aristarchus for the vampires. These leaders, whose names have since become legendary, met in secret to negotiate a fragile peace.

At the time, the world was divided into thirteen nations. Theron and Aristarchus brokered an agreement to partition these nations based on mutual understanding, creating a semblance of order amid the chaos. For a while, this uneasy truce held, allowing both humans and night-walkers to coexist in their respective territories.

However, not all vampires were content with the division. A faction of them, hungry for absolute power, revolted against the established order. They waged a brutal campaign, overthrowing the human-controlled kingdoms one by one until only a single human nation remained. Today, the world is divided into twelve vampire kingdoms and one human kingdom, a stark testament to the aftermath of the great night-walker revolt.

To govern their expanding dominion, the monsters established a ruling council known as the Domini, composed of the seven oldest and most powerful night-walkers. These ancient beings, with centuries of wisdom and strength, assumed control over the night-walker kingdoms. They decreed that one vampire would be chosen as Emperor, tasked with overseeing all thirteen kingdoms. Despite this, the human kingdom remained autonomous, refusing to acknowledge the night-walker emperor’s rule.

The Domini also codified a set of laws and principles in a tome called "The New Order." This book became the cornerstone of vampire governance, outlining the rights and responsibilities of both the Primas and the Foundlings. Primas, the pure-bred who were awakened from the grave by Hell or some miracle, held a revered status. Foundlings, created from turned humans, were often treated as outcasts within their own society.

In recent times, tensions have reached a boiling point. The humans, determined to reclaim their lost territories and sovereignty, have incited revolts across the vampiric kingdoms. These uprisings have led to widespread destruction and loss of life on both sides. Cities lie in ruins, and the streets run red with the blood of humans and night-walkers alike.

The world now stands on the brink of another great upheaval. The delicate balance maintained by The New Order is crumbling under the weight of renewed conflict. As humans fight to regain their power and night-walkers struggle to maintain their dominance, the future of this fractured world hangs in the balance. The Domini, once thought to be the unassailable rulers of the night-walker kingdoms, find their authority challenged at every turn. The ancient treaties and laws that once held the world together are now mere relics of a forgotten era.

In this tumultuous landscape, the fate of humanity and night-walker-kind alike is uncertain. The echoes of The Exodus still reverberate through the ages, a grim reminder of the chaos that can ensue when the balance of power is disrupted. As both sides prepare for the battles to come, one thing is clear: the world as it once was will never be the same again.

Stay vigilant, stay informed, and may we never lose hope.

For information, or to report news, please find us at:

23 Shadowed Alley, Raven's Cross, Valoria

The Eyewitness Post | Keeping the Light of Truth Alive in the Darkest Times

[chimcess]

Nachash || jhs (Prologue)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Doctor!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU (that's putting it lightly) Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count:  6.6k+ Summary: After losing both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell her home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place she barely remembers despite having lived in Harlem for a decade. Her reality begins to blur as she loses track of dreams and waking life. At the center of this confusion is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her an eerie sense of déjà vu. She can't shake the feeling that Hoseok isn't who he claims to be, and she's haunted by a strange bar that keeps appearing in her nightmares. Warnings: Wet dreams, explicit sexual contact in those dreams, graphic violence, hard dom Hoseok, demon Hobi acting like the horrible creature he is, emotional manipulation, DEATH, alcohol consumption, sexual harassment (brief), dream manipulation, stalking, vampire mind control, asshole Hobi (seriously), morally grey Taehyung, morally grey vampires in general, vampire bar, use of pagers because this is the early 90s (I have pager code translations at the bottom of the page), lots of cursing, vaginal fingering, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, sadistic Hoseok, death by sex in her dreams, did I mention how horrible of a person this Hobi is?, mans is an obsessive stalker, and this is just the prologue because Tumblr's new rules are weird and don't make sense, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I've had to split this into two seperate parts since Tumblr does not allow posts over a certain line count anymore (boo!), so I'm giving you guys the beginning section first! This entire story will be based in the 90s and will have a lot of pretty dark elements attachted to it. I really wanted to force myself to write a character that is so out of my wheelhouse it made me uncomfortable-- and that's exactly who incubus Hoseok is in this one. Happy Halloween everyone!

Next || Released early on AO3: here

August 1992

My bones cracked, the sound echoing through the sterile silence, and I struggled to catch my breath. A thin layer of sweat clung to my skin, and I patted myself down to make sure I was still awake, still alive. Slowly, the panic subsided as I took in my surroundings. The bright fluorescent lights above made my eyes ache, but their harsh glow was a strange comfort. I was still in the hospital. The bed beneath me creaked as I sighed and flopped back down.

The nightmares had been haunting me for a while now. I couldn’t pinpoint when the first one came, but it had been two months since they turned sexual. The worst ones hit during my 24-hour shifts, as if my mind was playing some twisted game. There was always a man—always the same man—with golden eyes that glowed in the darkness. His skin was soft, supple, and disturbingly perfect.

Even when I closed my eyes, his perfect face flashed in the darkness behind my eyelids. It always ended the same way. I would climax, my body thrashing violently, only to look up and see his skin peeling away, ashes raining down, with fire slipping through the cracks. My own body would begin to burn, and I’d scream in horror as his once-perfect face revealed a skull with flames and black smoke oozing out. I would wake up just as his skeletal hand reached for my throat. The scenario changed, but the ending never did.

Sighing, I fumbled around for my phone. When I found it under my pillow, alongside my watch, I realized that I was due back in twenty minutes. I groaned. There was no going back to sleep now. I carefully climbed off my bunk, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Dr. Boseman was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of my nightly torment. She still had another hour before she had to return to the floor. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror. The ER was filled with messy doctors, and I would be no exception. Slipping my shoes back on and shrugging on my white coat, I quickly put on my lanyard and left the little room.

It had been a relatively slow night. We all knew better than to say the dreaded “Q” word, but that didn’t mean we weren’t aware of the unusual silence. The most excitement we had was a car accident victim, and he would survive. My attending physician, Dr. Kepler, was at the nurse’s station laughing with some of the nurses.

“Morning, Doc,” came Shannon’s voice, the night custodian.

“Hey, Shan, how are you?” I smiled at the elderly woman.

“I’m fine. About to clean some bathrooms.”

“Good luck with that,” I waved, knowing the small talk was over.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need it.”

Dr. Kepler smiled when I was close enough to talk. He was a handsome man with broad shoulders and pearly white teeth. I knew better, though. He had a bad habit of cheating on his wife with residents. He had never shown any interest in me, most likely because I never treated him differently. Some of the girls were too friendly with him and lost their professionalism, and he took advantage of that. As much as he disgusted me, I had to admit he was one hell of a doctor.

“Dr. L/N,” he greeted.

“Evening, Dr. Kepler,” I replied. “How’s it going, Angie?”

The tech beamed at me. She had started working at the hospital around the same time I had begun my residency, and we made fast friends. On quiet days like this, the two of us would sit at the desk and shoot the shit. She gave me a little wink.

“Oh, you know, paperwork and stuff,” she replied.

“One of those days?”

“When isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes.

“I feel your pain,” Kepler forced his way into our conversation. He was dreadfully boring, so I chose to ignore him whenever this happened. Typically, he would realize no one was paying attention to him and leave. “I had to help out in L&D tonight, and let me tell you, I am glad I did not go that route. Couldn’t imagine having to deal with hysterical females all day.”

I grimaced. He was such a pig. Angie rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. If she spoke up, he would never leave. A few nurses gave half-hearted replies, and I caught the eyes of Issic, one of the nurse practitioners who helped out in the emergency room. Normally so well-behaved and soft-spoken, the large, teddy-bear-like man glowered at the doctor. If looks could kill, I could not say Dr. Kepler would be dead, but I had to admit he would be majorly hurt. Still, no one called him out on the gross comments. We never did.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Dr. Kepler bid us goodbye, his rant about how stupid specialties other than cardiology are.

Angie twisted her nose in disgust once his back was turned. She disliked him more than I did. He made obvious advances toward her, something that made her and everyone else at the station uncomfortable, but there was not much we could do. I told her to report him for sexual harassment, but she never did. Nor did anybody else. I had never noticed how little we stood up for ourselves before.

“Glad he’s gone,” Mariah, an RN, commented.

“Creep,” another tech said.

“Anyway,” Angie did not acknowledge them. “I’m going out for drinks with some of the other nurses. You want to come?”

“Where at?” I checked my watch. I would have to begin my pre-rounds soon.

“This new bar Dauphine. Selene went a few weeks back with some friends of hers.”

“I’m not in the club scene,” I reminded her.

I knew Selene, not well, but I did know her. We met at Angie’s Christmas party last year along with a few of her other friends. I had left early but not before Selene had started to bump and grind with anyone she could get her hands on. This included Jeon Jungkook, the local wack-job-false-prophet-wannabe-fortuneteller and my cousin’s boyfriend. The two ended up having sex in the back of his Impala where said cousin found them in the middle of the act. Jungkook said it was his “destiny.” Selene simply laughed and was right back on his lap. I did not care much for her after that.

“There are only certain rooms like that. The main area is like a lounge. She said it was chill until they went dancing.”

I hummed. It had been a while since I had gone out. Maybe it would be a nice distraction, especially with the weird dreams I’d been having.

“When?” Angie smiled wide. She knew she had won me over.

“Thursday. I made sure to get a day you weren’t on call.”

And then my watch began beeping, signaling my return to work. Angie pouted her bottom lip out and batted her eyelashes. I smiled and shook my head.

“Duty calls,” I turned around and began walking away. “See you Thursday,” I called behind me.

“Fuck,” I sighed, throwing my head back.

“You’re so wet,” the man groaned, releasing my clit.

I squirmed underneath him, legs shaking, and breathing erratic. The man chuckled darkly, sticking a third finger in. I cried out once more.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he rasped before slapping my right breast.

I screamed, the pain and pleasure mixing so many times tonight that I could no longer discern the two. He slapped the other side. Tears fell from my eyes.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” his voice felt further away than it had before.

His fingers were gone, and I whined. I hardly recognized the person I had become. Never had I begged for a man’s touch or wanted rough sex. I knew he could do anything to me, and I would not complain. I knew that he knew that as well. I also knew that he loved it. A sharp, painful slap was delivered to my already aching pussy. Another scream.

“And when I’m done,” slap, “I’m going to devour you.”

And I came undone for the third time.

I adjusted my dress again, feeling its snugness a little too keenly. It had been ages since I’d gone out, and Angie’s insistence on looking “sexy” felt like a cruel joke. Most of my wardrobe consisted of scrubs and old college hoodies, so my little black dress, tucked away in the back of my closet, had to do. Back when I was nineteen, it had fit like a glove. Now, it clung to my newer curves, which weren’t so new anymore. Should I change?

Groaning, I fell back on my bed. What am I doing? If Angie were here, she’d tell me to stop acting like “such a virgin” and laugh. She always laughed hardest at her own jokes. According to her, being with less than three guys by age twenty-three was unheard of. The fact that I was pushing thirty and had only been with two was some sort of medical anomaly to her. The virgin jokes had been annoying at first, but I’d learned that was just Angie’s sense of humor. Childish, yes, but she was likable enough to forgive it.

I sat up and looked at myself in the mirror again. The dress looked good, better than I expected. So why the apprehension? Struggling to pinpoint the source of my anxiety, I finally gave up. I threw on a leather jacket and started putting on the finishing touches to my look. I was meeting everyone at the club since Angie lived on the other side of town. She had kindly offered to pay for my cab. After texting her that I was ready, I slipped on a pair of black boots and stepped outside to wait for my ride.

The night was cold, unusually so for August, even for New York. Adjusting to the climate had been tough. Originally from Jersey, my family had moved to Florida when I was a child. I’d gone to Tulane for undergrad and then moved to New York for med school. After graduating from Columbia two years ago, I started my residency at Harlem Hospital Center. I was planning to stay for my ICU fellowship.

A gust of wind ruffled my clothes, and for a moment, I swore I felt phantom hands caress my hips. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine. My mind was still on edge from the nightmares. Last night’s had been particularly vivid: horns had sprouted from his head before he ripped a chunk of my breast out with his teeth, blood dripping onto my sheets as my screams echoed off the walls.

My phone rang, its sharp tone startling me. Angela had pressured me into getting a cellphone a few months ago, and I was still getting used to the intrusion. Handy at times, sure, but mostly an annoyance. The bulky Nokia was far too cumbersome.

“You in the car yet? The driver’s name is Jimin.”

As she said it, a pair of headlights turned the corner, and the car slowed down.

“About to get in now,” I said, eager to hang up. The assumption that I was wealthy because I had a cellphone always embarrassed me.

“God, I’m so excited to see you!” Angie squealed, the sounds of the club already drowning her out. I regretted agreeing to come out. “The password is Conti. Whatever that means.”

I smiled. “It’s a street name in New Orleans.”

The car pulled up to the curb, and I quickly opened the door. 

“I’m about to get in the cab,” I said, buckling up. “I’ll see you in a bit, Ang.”

“Page me when you get here!”

The ride was quiet. The driver greeted me, asked for my name, then lapsed into silence. Soft R&B played in the background. To distract myself, I sent a quick message to my mom and listened to the driver quietly singing along. He had a nice voice. Just as we pulled up, TLC came on, and I felt a pang of disappointment that I wouldn’t get to hear him sing along. I thanked him before getting out. Jimin drove off seconds after I closed the door with a polite ‘goodnight.’

The alleyway leading to the club was less intimidating than I’d expected. Angie’s description of a long, red-lit path had conjured far worse images in my mind. The lights were bright enough to see by, and the walk was short. Voices drifted from outside the club, easing some of my tension. Maybe the rumors were just that—rumors.

Dauphine had a reputation for attracting the town’s freaks. Drugs, alcohol, sex parties that ended in blood-splattered walls, and people who went in but never came out. The rumors spiraled out of control after Namjoon Kim was found dead outside. Typical media frenzy—no one cared when ten prostitutes went missing, but a rich CEO gets shot, and it’s front-page news. I rolled my eyes. Some things never change.

A group of friends stopped talking as I approached, and apprehension churned in my gut. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced it down. I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. Their presence was enough to leave me shaking. One of them snickered, and I shivered. Without even glancing at them, I knew they’d be terrifying. The bouncer opened the peephole in the door.

“Conti,” I said, my voice harsh.

The door opened seconds later, and I practically ran inside, shoving past the bouncer without much care. He didn’t seem to mind my rudeness. Without their eyes on me, I could finally breathe. I paged Angie to let her know I was here.

Angela: 110 307

Angela: 209

Y/N: 08

I shoved my pager back into my bag and started navigating the maze of the bar. The nurse had been right; it was more subdued than I had imagined. Red and black dominated the color scheme, with large sofas and booths scattered about. Neon signs pointed to the restrooms, and the place was pleasantly devoid of orgies or bloodbaths. I felt a wave of relief—no strobe lights, no thrumming dance floors. 

A few minutes later, I found the bar. Only one man was seated there, engaged in a tender conversation with the bartender. She caressed his cheek, and I melted at the sight. It was heartwarming to see such affection in a place rumored to be so dangerous. I doubted many would be comfortable with their partner working in a place as infamous as this.

Respecting their privacy, I took a seat a few stools away and picked up a small drink menu. Angie was nowhere in sight. I stifled a laugh; the menu was a mix of classic cocktails and blood types listed underneath each one. For a place as notorious as this, I hadn't expected it to be a vampire-themed bar. I was already excited to see the dance floor. Themed bars in New Orleans had always been a blast during my Tulane days.

"Good evening," the bartender's voice was silky smooth.

I smiled. "Hi."

"What can I get for you?"

Suppressing a grin, I said, "I'll have a dirty martini. Shot of O negative."

The chuckle slipped out before I could stop it. The bartender smirked, her skin glistening under the red lights. The man at the other end of the bar looked at me, his eyes wide, before bursting into loud laughter. Eyes turned towards us, the sensation making my skin crawl, but I stayed composed. The bartender leaned in closer.

"Are you okay with cherry liqueur?"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

She laughed. "Then you don't want that shot, babe."

I nodded, glancing at my nails. Where was Angie? Rolling my eyes, I groaned. She’d probably run into some guy and forgotten about me. I straightened up, trying to see over the tall booths scattered about. No sign of her blonde head anywhere. With a sigh, I gave up. She’d show up eventually.

"Looking for someone?" The bartender slid my drink over.

"Oh," I clutched my chest, startled. "Just a friend of mine. She got here earlier but I can't find her. She said she’d come get me."

"I might’ve seen her." Her brows knitted in concern.

"She’s tall," I gestured, "really skinny. Blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s wearing a blue sequin dress."

The bartender nodded. "Yeah, I saw her and a couple of girls head to the back. She ran off with a guy not too long ago."

I groaned. Of course, she did. I must have missed her on my way in. Sinking into my chair, I threw back my martini, ripping the olive off the toothpick. My annoyance was palpable. I tried calling her, but there was no response.

Y/N: 420

Y/N: 3011

After a few more failed attempts, I paged Monica, another tech from the hospital I was close with. I used her last name; there were too many Monicas to keep track of. Her code number was written down on a piece of paper in my wallet.

Y/N: 221

"Hey," the bartender called out.

She seemed hesitant to speak. I felt a pang of guilt for making her uncomfortable. She probably thought her tip was on the line. I willed myself to calm down.

"Sorry about that."

"No worries," she replied, waving me off. "Just… be careful. We get some characters in here. I’ll keep an eye out for your friend."

I smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Anytime. If you need anything, just ask for 'Bootsy,'" she winked before taking my empty glass and returning to her boyfriend.

My pager buzzed.

Everson: 419

I rolled my eyes. I hated technology outside of medical settings. Pagers were useless for meaningful conversation. Luckily, Monica carried her cell everywhere, flaunting her family’s wealth. Her phone was much nicer than mine.

"Hey babe!" She shouted over the music.

"Angie left," I spoke louder than necessary, hoping she could hear. "The bartender saw her leave with a guy."

Monica laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. We were too different to get along beyond pleasantries.

"Go Ang!" She giggled drunkenly. "We’re all in the back."

I rolled my eyes. "It’s my first time here."

"Bar, take a right, walk straight until you see a bunch of doors."

"What’s the entrance look like? Everything looks the same here."

"The door is black with a purple bead hanging off the handle," she hiccuped, then burped. "The lights around it are really red."

Annoyed, I shoved my phone into my purse and slid off my chair. The long hallway was daunting. This part of the bar was dimly lit and far more unsettling. Unlike the eyes on my back earlier, there was no one here. The jazz music faded, and I fought back a shiver. This place was creepy.

I went to the end of the hall only to find it empty. No door, no beads, nothing. Monica had given me the wrong directions. As frustrated as I was, I couldn’t be too upset with her. She had no idea what she was talking about and already had a few drinks in her system. My anger towards Angela only grew. I sent her another text, seething, and started to wander again, hunting for the elusive door.

The nurse was right; this place was a labyrinth. High ceilings and narrow passages could make even the most fearless person feel claustrophobic. I had to hold my breath when the walls seemed to close in. Aimlessly, I roamed, still finding nothing. The longer I walked, the more convinced I became that this lounge had been a catacomb at some point. From the outside, it didn't look nearly this expansive. My heels clicked loudly in the eerie silence. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I glanced around nervously.

"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?" I cursed myself, turning back the way I came. The bartender was nice enough; maybe she could help.

"It's a lounge, sha," a voice said behind me.

I screamed, flinching, and spun around, losing my footing. I grabbed the wall, but the impact scraped my arm against the rough bricks. The person offered a hand, but I ignored it, picking myself up and glaring at the stranger.

He was gorgeous—tall, slender, with broad shoulders and lean muscles under a white button-down shirt. His hands, large with long, piano fingers, slid back into his pants pockets. His doe eyes sparkled with amusement, and his grin was wide and boxy.

"My apologies," his voice was honeyed. "I didn't mean to startle you."

I kept glaring. "Startle? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He snickered before his eyes fixed on my arm. "You're bleeding."

I looked at my shoulder, noticing the rip in my jacket and the blood seeping out. Throwing my hands up in exasperation, I yelled, feeling tears welling up. Tonight had been a disaster from the start—the dress, the people outside, Angie ditching me. Every part of it felt like a waste of time. I should just go home.

"Are you okay, sha?" he asked, gently touching my arm.

I laughed bitterly. "Does it look like it?"

"No, you look upset."

"Great detective work, Captain Obvious," I snapped, rolling my eyes and yanking my arm away. "And it’s pronounced cher, not sha."

He stepped back, his smile never faltering. He seemed amused, which I found odd, but I couldn’t walk away. I didn’t like him. He was creepy, even in his beauty, and his eyes reminded me of the group outside. Yet, my feet felt rooted to the ground, as if frozen in fear.

"No, cher, it's sha where I’m from."

I sniffled. "Louisiana, huh?"

"Born in France, but my family moved to New Orleans when I was young. I learned Kouri-Vini from a trumpet player in the French Quarter."

Embarrassed by my outburst, I nodded. Trust me to correct the grammar of a Frenchman. The night’s mood soured further, all my hopes for a good time dashed. Still, I couldn't deny a strange attraction to the stranger. His presence, unsettling yet warm, invited me to stay.

"You looked lost."

"I am. Trying to find my friends, but I have no idea where to go. They said 'the back,' like that’s helpful. I’ve been wandering for at least thirty minutes."

He placed a thoughtful finger on his chin. "You really shouldn’t walk around alone," he warned. "There are a lot of unsavory characters here."

"Are you an Anne Rice character or something?" I scratched my shoulder, wincing at the sting. "Why are you talking like that? It’s weird."

"Should I apologize?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not if you can get me back to the bar."

He laughed. "I believe that can be arranged."

"You're doing it again." This time, we laughed together.

The walk back was shorter than I’d expected. He moved silently, with perfect posture, his perfection unsettling. Too symmetrical, too beautiful, and far too polite for someone who looked younger than me. As the jazz music grew louder, I learned he played the saxophone and trumpet for years in New Orleans. He opened his first bar, Midnight Moon, a few years ago and moved to New York City to branch out.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked.

"I’m a resident."

"Doctor," he whistled. "Very impressive."

"Not as impressive as being a rich, successful CEO in your twenties."

He laughed loudly, drawing a few looks. On cue, I lowered my head, feeling strange. Normally confident, here I felt the need to stay unseen, their eyes on me unnerving.

"What’s your name?" he asked, surprising me.

"Y/N," I answered, meeting his gaze.

He smiled, dazzling and unsettling. "I'm Taehyung."

"Nice to meet you, Taehyung," I said, my heart racing.

His eyes were a strange color, almost black with flecks of red under the lights. They were beautiful, but the spell broke, and I looked away again, feeling uneasy.

“There’s someone here who wants to see you,” Taehyung said, his voice rasping, almost angry. “But I don’t want to share you yet.”

I sucked in a breath, startled by his proximity. He had moved closer until we were chest to chest. I breathed him in—freesias and honey. My mouth watered, but I stepped back with effort. Taehyung didn’t follow.

“It’s probably my friend,” I said, noticing the bartender’s boyfriend staring. “We were supposed to meet here.”

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s eyes locked onto mine. “Remember what I said about unsavory characters.”

I nodded, dazed, as he brushed my hair behind my ear.

“Don’t leave with it, sha,” he whispered, sending a shiver up my spine.

I was too stunned to respond. Whatever Taehyung had said flew over my head as I placed my hand on the cheek he kissed. The skin still tingled where he had touched. When I looked up, he was gone. I spun in a circle, but there was no sign of the man anywhere. I made eye contact with the guy at the bar again and felt uncomfortable going up to him. He was frowning at me.

Taehyung had said someone was waiting for me, and the only person I could think of was Angie. She must have decided to come back after seeing my messages. Her hookup must have been lackluster if she came all the way back here. I chuckled to myself and finally walked to the bar. It would be fun to drink and talk shit. Then we could finally meet up with Monica and the girls, and my night could start looking up.

Angela was nowhere in sight when I got to the bar. The same man was still looking at me, as was the bartender. A new figure sat in my chair. It was another man by the looks of it, judging by their shoulders and haircut. I continued my search for Angela but still came up empty-handed. She was just looking for me.

"Looking for something?" the bartender asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, the guy I was with said someone was looking for me. Have you seen her?"

She pursed her lips and glanced at the other man. "Can't say I have. Taehyung was probably confused."

My shoulders dropped in defeat. Again, I was left stranded. I should probably just go home and call it a night. A small voice told me to go and find Taehyung. He had said he didn’t want to share me. How had he known someone was waiting for me?

I couldn’t think about it for too long, as if my mind wouldn’t let me. I thought about him, his perfect face, and how beautiful he was. His eyes, eyes I could not recall the color of for the life of me, staring down at me. His voice, a gentle purr in my ear beckoning me closer. A draft startled me out of my daydream and I realized I wanted to leave.

I sighed. "I think I’m going to head out then."

I swore I saw relief wash over her face. Her lips had been tight when I came back around, but she gave me a small, genuine grin. Probably some asshole customer. Every place has them, even a luxurious one. Her shoulders stiffened when the other man raised his arm. Her boyfriend’s hands clenched. That guy must be the douche.

"Bourbon." Oh, yeah, definitely a tool.

I rolled my eyes and did not think before taking a seat at the bar. I could at least distract her. She frowned at me and continued making his drink.

"Thought you were leaving?"

"I could get another drink before I go." I smiled at her.

"Dirty martini for the lady," the mystery man said.

My heart stopped. His face... My mouth dropped open at the sight of him. My dream man. He was sitting right in front of me. Every detail, every line and curve were the same. Even the mole on his lip was there. Just like Taehyung, it was hard to look into his eyes, but I knew they would be the same. I couldn’t remember what they looked like, but I was certain they shined a gentle, soft gold in the dark.

"You do like them dirty, right?" He grinned.

I couldn’t respond for a few moments. The resemblance was uncanny. The anxiety Taehyung’s presence had given me was nothing compared to this. It felt like an elephant had sat on my chest while every nerve in my body screamed at me to run. And just like Taehyung, I found myself unable to move. I found that I did not want to. I welcomed the feeling.

"How did you know that?" I asked, still in awe.

"I overheard you earlier. Was going to buy you one then but you left before I could."

I swallowed my thickening saliva. It was hard to get down. Every part of me wanted to run. My body begged to get away from him, but it also yearned to be near him. I was alight in every way possible, and the confusion was hard to wrap my head around. Do I stay or do I go? As if he could read my mind, the man reached out and ran a finger over the top of my hand. Electricity shot through my body, and it burned where he had touched.

"Have a drink with me."

"Okay," I whispered, hypnotized by his voice.

The bartender placed my drink in front of me before going back to her side of the bar, like she was trying to stay as far away from the man as possible. I knew his name, it was on the tip of my tongue, but I was insane to think it was even possible. He was a stranger, and there was no possible way he was my dream man. The two just looked similar. In my dreams, his eyes were gold, and his skin was much paler and sickly. I glanced at his hands and relaxed even further. In my dreams, the man had scars over every inch of his body.

"I’m Hoseok, by the way." He smiled at me, and I quivered.

There was something off about his teeth. His canines were too sharp. In fact, all of his teeth were. They were so white they almost glowed in the red lights. Too perfect. Everything about him was. I scooted away from him and angled my legs toward the bartender. I wanted to leave again. I wanted to get away from him. I had been right about his name.

I took a nervous sip of my drink. Why had I sat down in the first place? At the moment, it had seemed like the right thing to do, but now I felt conflicted. Had I really wanted to stay? It surely felt that way at the time. Now, I wanted to go home, and my body language was clear. Still, I could not stand up and walk away. Still, I took another sip and curled away from him without moving.

"Are you okay? You seem tense."

I nodded too quickly and enthusiastically to ever be taken seriously. Hoseok seemed amused by this, just as he had been smirking at my squirming moments before. He was unsettling. Maybe it was his resemblance to the monster from my dreams that had me on edge. Yes, I thought, that had to be the reason.

"Bad night," I replied, my hands shaking. I quickly finished my drink and stood up. Hoseok smiled at me. "Thanks for the drink. I’ll be going now."

"See you soon, Y/N."

I was so focused on leaving the bar, I did not hear the slip of his tongue. I had never told him my name. That night, after I got home, I dreamt of Hoseok killing me again. The next day, Angela never showed up for work, never answered my messages. No one else had heard from her either.

Her body was found mutilated and tortured in a motel room a few blocks away from Dauphine the following morning. My dreams began to include her in them. She cried for me to help her, blamed me for her death, and even laughed as I got my throat ripped out. I was never able to focus anymore and was blessed that my residency program finished only four months later.

After graduation, the dreams stopped. I stayed with my parents for the summer, played in the Florida sun, and decided against going back to New York for my fellowship. Instead, I chose to stay in Tallahassee and start my career. It was safe there. He was gone. A few years later, I left for Jacksonville, and my paranoia had started to fade.

Years had gone by, and my memories of his face began to escape me. His name was nothing more than a gentle whisper in the deepest pits of my mind. Even then, saying that would be an overstatement. My return to New York was in the wake of my mother’s death. My dad had passed away a few years prior, and our vacation home in Harlem, the same place I lived in so many years ago, had become prime real estate. I got a fellowship through Columbia upon my return. Life was looking up despite my grief, and I was ready to start a new venture in my medical career.

That was the beginning of my eventual end. I had cheated death all those years ago. Angela was my replacement, though I had no idea at the time. That thing knew she was waiting for me. It knew she would not let me out of her sight, so it took care of the problem. My fear gave it power, and it indulged itself in my torture. When I came back, it knew.

This time, I would not be lucky. Nothing and no one would get in its way. Soon, all memories of that night vanished. Angela’s name escaped me first, then her face, and finally what happened to her. Dauphine and its never-ending halls were gone. The thing that sat at the bar made sure of that before making his next move.

It was mid-October when he came back into my life, all memories of his face wiped from my mind, and his game really started. My death would be his favorite. A death he rejoiced in for years to come only to be disappointed that nothing lived up to that night.

Things like Hoseok lived for the chase, and I proved to be his greatest target.

Next

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[purpleyoonn]

Dance of Time 4

D A N C E   O F   T I M E

“A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.” -Bukowski

Summary: You were finally back in the hometown you left right after graduation, researching the mysterious manor that laid outside of the town limits. Your family was acting weird, and the owner of the manor seemed to know more about you than he should. Everything changed when you entered the manor, and you weren’t sure your dance with time was going to last very long.

Pairing: Vampire BTS x Human Reincarnated Reader

Status: random updates

Genre: soulmate au, reincarnation, yandere themes, possessive boys, angst, fluff,

Warnings: smut, violence, tempers, mentions of death, murder, some explicit descriptions of violence, blood,

Chapter Warnings: more flashback scenes, yandere boys, mc deals with her feelings in a weird way, rage room, mc’s creative insults, not much

Taglist: @psychosupernatural @carolinexkpop @strxwbloody @strawberry-moonpies​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @anaspectoflife​ @btsw1fe​ @yoongisgirl69​ @toughbook​ @yoongibabs​ @mageprincess7​ @dahliasbouqet​ @wittyreader​ @peachandmomo​ @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered​ @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​  @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @azazel-nyx​  @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @kleirielk​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​

Masterlist // Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

————————————————–

Previously on Dance of Time:

“Who is Ellie?” Were the only words to leave your lips as sobs started to sound out instead. Their eyes seemed indifferent to your words, despite the sparkle of happiness glittering within.

“You.”

“Well, I didn’t think she would take it like this.”

“What do you mean? You thought she would go along with everything?” Jimin looked at his mate, eyes narrowed in disbelief. Taehyung shrugged, placing his nose in Hobi’s neck as he sat on his lap. He was in a grumpy mood after you broke his nose and Hobi’s vanilla scent always calmed him down.

They had to lock you in your old room so you wouldn’t try to run away from them again. You already broke the window in the library that overlooked the large garden. For your own safety they made sure you couldn’t break anything in the room, not wanting you to try and hurt yourself again.

Telling you everything had not gone to plan, as some of them had previously hoped.

You stood there for a couple of seconds before making a run for the door, shoving your body against it as you tried to turn the doorknob. You had tears down your cheeks, impeding your vision as you tried to leave.

Jungkook was shocked when you managed to get rid of Taehyung’s arms around your waist, the youngest of the coven having widened his eyes at your actions. He might have been naive to the idea that you would welcome them with open arms and soft lips.

You were their mate, and you were gaining your memories back, so why did you try to get away from them? Jungkook couldn’t comprehend your actions. He couldn’t fathom the thought of finally having you back in their arms and you wanting to leave.

“Darling, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Jimin had tried to remove your grip from the door, had moved forward so you wouldn’t hurt your shoulder against the old oak door.

“Don’t touch me you overgrown mosquito!” You yelled as you felt another set of arms wrap around you, effectively holding your arms against your chest and pulling you away from the door.

“Overgrown mosquito…” Namjoon breathed out, a small smile on his face as he heard the insult come from your lips. You still had the same favor for creative insults.

However, the smile left his lips when you brought your head back quick, knocking you and Jin over as his nose started to bleed, crooked and bent. You pushed yourself up and away from them before they could blink, rising to push at the window to get onto the small balcony that laid outside the glass.

Namjoon lunged for you, grabbing your waist and turning you to face him, but you kicked and threw your body against the window, effectively smashing the glass and cutting little pieces of the skin of your hands and knocking Hoseok out of the way who had come to try and block the window as an escape route.

“Darling!” Jungkook rushed forward to help Namjoon now that he had managed to restrain you, keeping you held tightly against his chest, facing him so he doesn’t end up like Jin or Hoseok. Jungkook crowded against your back, making sure that you wouldn’t be able to get away this time.

“Darling, I know you have a lot of feelings right now, but that’s no way—”

“Oh, go put a sock in it, you limp needle!” You growled out, interrupting Jin from continuing his sentence. Yoongi could hear his elder mate’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare as your words set in.

“Limp needle? How dare—” Yoongi cut him off this time, moving to pull the elder behind him before gesturing for Jungkook and Namjoon to move towards the door.

“Why don’t you go and put or littlest mate in her room? Give her some time to think everything through. Maybe she’ll calm down enough for lunch?” He gives you a hopeful look, only for your own eyes to narrow back at him.

“I’m not going to be eating with you! Who knows, maybe this is all a trick so you’ll be able to eat me for lunch!” Your voice fades away as Namjoon carries you to your old room, his grip in your thighs and back tight so you can’t kick him.

Jimin had hoped you would accept them right away, but he also knew that you were not going to just let them welcome you with open arms and promises reiterated from the past. He could sense the frustration and fear in your scent, he could sense the tightness in your muscles and the way your fists clenched as Taehyung held you.

He knew that this was going to be a tough courting period, that you would try your hardest to fight the bond you didn’t realize you had already accepted when you were at lunch with Namjoon earlier that week.

Your dreams and visions of lifetimes past would only get stronger, more potent as time went on. He hated that he couldn’t wait until you were seeking them out, just like you did before. He missed how you would quietly watch him, waiting until the moment you thought best to interrupt him, your desire for touch overriding any other thought.  

“Let me out of here,” A crash could be heard as you threw something against one of the walls, followed by a sigh leaving Namjoon’s lips. “You big bunch of dinosaurs!”

Yoongi held a grin on his lips, loving how feisty you were getting. He found the insults to be creative and witty. Simply put, you were being a brat, and he couldn’t help but want to go up there and have you say those to his face as he moves at a punishing pace.

“Well, at least her names are getting more creative.” Hoseok lets out a breathy laugh at being called a dinosaur. “I wonder what else she will come up with?”

“She should calm down soon. You remember how she was as a child. She has to get her thoughts in order somehow.” Namjoon brought up.

You always had issues expressing yourself, internalizing everything and then melting down later when everything got to be way too much for you. You would come home from school crying, needing an outlet to help you collect your thoughts and make sense of them.

It wasn’t healthy, but they would help you with it now that they had you back.

Maybe you could pick up gardening again?

“Do you think she’s run out of energy?” Hoseok asks once the room went silent. They couldn’t hear anything from you now, the floor above them giving no indication of any movement.

“Give it a couple minutes, maybe she is just refueling more so she can break the desk in there next.” Jin quipped; still upset at the way you treated him.

“Oh, stop it. You were the first to mate with her last time. Just give her some time, Jin.” Namjoon brought a hand up to the back of Jin’s neck, giving it a gentle squeeze before standing up from the couch.

“She is not the same person we remember. She is not Ellie no matter how much we wish her to be. But she is still our mate.” Namjoon’s next words were unspoken, but still heard by everyone in the room.

“She is still ours.”

You, on the other hand, were beyond enraged that these men just claimed you were theirs, with no prompt from you, and locked you in a room when you disagreed with them and tried to leave.

You should have known something was wrong when the man who never wanted to be interviewed before about the manor suddenly deciding to talk with you about it. Your “luck” was purely an opportunity for the men to enact their plan to take you.

You had tried to knock the door down, but it seemed to be reinforced with steel. You tried the window and came up with nothing, the glass thick enough for not even a bullet to break it, you guessed. This meant you were stuck, and you didn’t like it.

You had no remorse for any of the things the men had furnished the room with, choosing a pretty looking vase to smash against the wall first. You were in your very own rage room, smashing and breaking anything you could see.

However, when you went to smash a small table into the dresser, you faltered in your steps. Something within you was keeping you from doing any damage to the ancient dresser. It was ornate in design, the intricate woodwork had you stopping and moving to get a closer look. 

You ran your hand up the flower design running up the bottom of the dresser, pressing softly on one of the petals by the edge and jumped back in shock.

The bottom panel of the dresser had fallen, revealing a hatch that held a couple of things. You noticed an old hairbrush with colors of lavender and cream, a handkerchief, and a book. You reached for the book, an innate need to see what was inside running through you.

Picking the book up, you moved back over to the bed, your footsteps soft as you did. Sitting in the middle of the large bed, you couldn’t help but to take a deep breath as your fingers grasped the cover of the book, turning it over to reveal handwriting that was oh so familiar to you.

Love does not end with death.

Some things are meant to last forever.

Your own handwriting stared back at you, the black ink peering into your soul and making your heart skip. It was as if your past self knew what would happen to her. And it crushed your soul all the same.

Turning the page again, unable to continue looking at the familiar script, you found old pictures, piercing eyes staring into your own. You recognized yourself within the image; the caption reading “Ellie and Jungkook”.

You recognized Jungkook as the man who helped bring you back to this room. You now understand the look of hesitation as he closed the door in your face. The forlorn look as he struggled with Namjoon’s decision.

You turned the page again to see the caption reading “Ellie, Jimin, and Taehyung. The morning after”. You were in the middle of the bed, with one man on either side of you, looking at you with an overabundance of love and adoration on their faces as they looked over at you.

You closed the book with a huff of exhaustion. You couldn’t understand why they looked at you with the same loving and adoring glance as they gave Ellie. They didn’t know you. You were not Ellie, nor would you ever be.

You could feel tears begin to fall down your cheeks as your breathing picked up. You were so overwhelmed by a flurry of emotions and things you didn’t understand that you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

You couldn’t understand why you wanted them to comfort you as you broke down. Why did you want them to whisper words of reassurance, of promise, as they held you. You hated the feelings building in your chest at your own presence, alone in the unfamiliar room.  You wanted to hate the way they made you feel at a single glance, but you couldn’t.

You looked so much like their Ellie, and your feelings were soon becoming the ones she undoubtedly felt towards them. But you weren’t her, and you didn’t want to just lay down and let them pretend like you were. You were not her and you were not going to be a replacement like they wanted you to be.

It actually made you mad how easily you were falling for them in the little time you had been alone in the large room. What did they think? A couple of measly items from your past self and an old album would have you rushing to them, declarations of love pouring from your lips?

You threw the album away from you, crossing your arms at your chest as you tried to come up with a way to get out of the room again. You couldn’t understand why you were angry at the men, besides them kidnapping you. There was something building in your chest, something that had tears flowing down your cheeks, unable to stop the onslaught of them.

Somewhere, deep down that you wouldn’t acknowledge, you knew that you were upset that they weren’t with you, holding you like your body seemed to remember. You were upset and missing something that you remembered from your past life, something you never got in this one.

Soon, your angry tears turned into wistful tears, something compelling you to pull the album back to yourself, opening it up again and turning through the pages that tugged on the corners of your mind, nostalgia pulling at your heart.

You hated not knowing why you were feeling the way you were.

-*-*-

Not even the smell of food could bring you out of the cocoon you built, trapping and hiding yourself away from the seven men who made your heartstrings appear out of nowhere, tugging and yanking at them.

It was warm under the blankets, and you knew that someone would be coming to try and get you soon, at least, you thought they were. You had no clue if they could eat normal food, or even drink water. You didn’t know anything about them other than that they claimed to be your soulmates and they drank blood. Oh, and that they seemingly lived forever.

You were right though, soon enough you heard footsteps get closer causing you to bury yourself deeper into your cocoon. You didn’t want to see them and have your heart melt again.

When the door opened, you stayed still, hoping they would think you were sleeping and leave you alone. It didn’t seem to work.

“Darling, we have food for you.” Jimin called out, straining his ears to hear your breathing coming from the bundle of blankets on the bed. He assessed the damage you caused to your old room before moving forward, Jungkook walking quietly behind him.

You could hear their soft footsteps, the creak of the wooden floor giving them away. You hadn’t responded to Jimin’s voice, remembering his name and voice from one of the stupid visions you couldn’t figure out how to stop.

“Do you think she is asleep?” Jungkook whispered in Jimin’s ear, causing your heart to speed up, hoping you got away without seeing them. They both heard your heartbeat though, causing a little laughter to come from the two.

“Baby, we can hear your heartbeat. We know you are awake.” Jimin spoke again, jumping onto the bed and jostling you a little.

“So, why don’t you come out of there and eat your lunch?” Jungkook suggested, only for you to shake your head, inadvertently making your cocoon of blankets shake.

“We ordered your favorite from the diner. The waitress said you used to get it all the time growing up?” Jungkook moved forward, holding the plate of food carefully as he sat on the edge of the bed. He and Jimin were elected to be the ones to bring your food up, Namjoon suggesting you wouldn’t want to eat in the dining room with them. Hoseok almost snuck up with them but Jin had to pull him back to the couch. Instead, Hoseok was elected to go and get the food from the diner with Namjoon.

But in reality, they had all wanted to spend some time with you. They knew if you were in the dining room with them all, more things would be broken and even more feelings hurt, as you still didn’t understand what was going on.  

Your heartbeat sped up a little at the mention of your favorite food, but you knew it was just a ploy to get you out of the room, and out of your little cocoon. You felt safe in here, you didn’t feel safe with them. You wanted to go home.

“It’s just Jungkook and I. We uhm, we weren’t sure if you wanted any of the others to come in.” Jimin spoke, completely unsure of himself and his words, and your heart grew uncomfortable in your chest. These stupid feelings had you wanting to pull the man into your cocoon with you, make him feel safe.

Slowly, you pull the banket that was covering your face down, seeing it was in fact, just Jungkook and Jimin, Jungkook holding your favorite comfort food. The bowl of homemade macaroni and cheese with bacon crumbles on top smelled just like you remembered, and it made you feel even more at ease with the two vampires.

“We thought it might make you feel more comfortable if you ate in here… we can leave if you want?” Jimin’s voice sounded sad, yet hopeful as he finished his sentence. Jungkook had already handed the food to you once you managed to get yourself out of you small cocoon. Neither of the mates wanted to leave you alone again, but they would if you wanted them to.

However, now that your fear, and accompanying adrenalin, had subsided, you were tired, both physically and mentally and all you wanted was to be cuddled and held like when you were younger. You were so exhausted that you went with your instincts and let them stay, even pulling them into your half cocoon and practically laid on Jungkook as you slowly fed yourself.

You started to trust the two with your whole body, not just what memories and feelings you were receiving from your supposed past life. Despite your inner reluctance and fear, you fell asleep with them in your bed after you’re your tummy was full and your body cozy and warm..

[lilacmingi]

NOT SO BAD

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. Ageless blogs and blank blogs risk getting blocked

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x human!fem reader

Word count: 2,825

Note: This imagine is from my Wattpad so there won’t be any extra parts or continuations

Streetlights lined the damp roadway and sidewalk, casting hazy beams onto the pavement below. It was around 11:30 PM and you were heading home after a night out with friends as a way to wind down after a long week. You spent the late evening at a 24 hour karaoke bar where you sang (terribly) to all of your favorite songs and shared a few drinks with your small group of three; laughing and carrying on until your throats were raw from belting out lyrics for hours on end.

You reminisced on the new memories as you headed home for the evening, hoping to go out for karaoke again sometime soon. It was an ideal way to let loose have a good time.

Judging by the familiar buildings, you were nearing your apartment building, wanting nothing more than to shower and swap your fashionable, but mildly uncomfortable, attire for some loose pajamas.

A faint noise that sounded like a whimper reached your ears just as you were approaching a small alleyway. The noise was alarming and had sirens going off in your head. Someone was clearly in distress and with you being the only person walking the streets at this hour, you felt you should help.

You reached for your pepper spray, which you always carried with you, and cautiously approached the space between two buildings, peering around to corner to assess the situation before making any rash decisions.

A man with long, dark hair had a woman caged against the brick wall of one of the structures. It very much appeared that he was forcing himself on her.

Clutching your pepper spray in your hand and making sure your phone was in your back pocket, you stepped out into the opening of the alley.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"Get away from her!" is what you wanted to say next, but your voice was stuck in your throat.

The man turned towards you, his appearance making every limb in your body go completely numb with fear. Blood dripped from his mouth, dribbling down his chin. The woman's neck was covered in the dark ruby liquid, her body limp in the man's arms.

You could only watch as she dropped to the ground unconscious, staring at her motionless form, horrified.

When your gaze met that of the man before you, you knew you were in danger. He smirked, showing off a set of sharp fangs as he licked away some of the blood smeared on and around his mouth. His irises were the same deep crimson hue as the bodily fluid that coated his lips, his sharp gaze feeling as if it was burning a hole in you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing walking around alone so late at night?" He inquired, striding towards you.

You couldn't speak. The paralyzing fear coursing through your body had rendered you speechless.

"There's some dangerous people lurking this time of night. Don't you know?"

"D-Don't get any closer." You backed away, clutching the small can of pepper spray in your trembling hand.

He was standing directly in front of you in an instant, appearing at the speed of light. In the blink of an eye, he had you pinned against the brick wall just like the unconscious woman was moments earlier. You were now in her position. With your wrists bound by his hands, you were rendered immobile and completely helpless. The man's gaze trailed to the can clutched in your hand.

"That's real cute." He chuckled. "You think that little can of pepper spray is going to save you?"

His grip on your wrists tightened, causing you to drop your only means of defense to the concrete.

"You interrupted my meal, sweetheart." He uttered, his voice low and threatening.

He inhaled deeply, moving his face closer to your neck where he dragged the tip of his nose along your skin.

"Mmm." He hummed. "You smell much nicer than her. I hope you don't mind if I have a little taste."

"Please no."

"Shh." He placed his finger over your lips, silencing you.

You flinched at the feeling of his sharp fangs grazing your neck, yelping when his teeth pierced your skin. Tears welled up in your eyes from both the overwhelming pain and the fear that you were about to be killed.

The sound of him gulping down your blood was all you could hear, wondering how long it would take for him to stop.

His hands dropped to your waist, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. He groaned against your neck, savoring the taste of you while he held on tighter, the blunt tips of his nails digging into your waist. At that point, you could feel yourself slipping away quickly. He was taking too much too fast and your body was becoming weak.

With your wrists no longer being pinned down, you tried to push the vampire off of you, but it was no use. Your head was starting to spin and your vision was gradually becoming blurrier. At this rate, you would pass out soon.

"S-stop." You whispered weakly, your tingling hands still trying to force him away.

After fighting to keep your heavy eyelids open, you admitted deafeat, giving in and letting unconsciousness take over. Just as your eyes closed, you felt the man retract his fangs, your body going limp in his arms.

The last thing you heard before passing out was a low curse from the man.

Whatever dream you were having slowly faded out as you came to consciousness, your body gradually beginning to wake up. Light hit your eyelids and the faint sounds of the outside reached your ears. You hummed softly, rolling over onto your side and tugging the sheets up higher over your shoulders.

Wait.

You didn't remember coming home, let alone going to bed. You opened your eyes and abruptly shot up into a sitting position. A sharp sting surged through your neck causing you to hiss in response, clenching your teeth together. Instinctively reaching up to where the burning was, you felt a piece of gauze taped to your neck.

Oh no.

You took in your surroundings, realizing fairly quickly that you weren't in your apartment. In fact, you didn't recognize the room.

Whose house were you in?

A distant, male voice coming from somewhere in the house reached your ears. He was shouting curse words and, judging by the sounds of objects hitting the floor, he was throwing things too.

Your heart began to race, recalling the voice from the night before.

Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you started to get up only for your knees to buckle. You were quick to catch yourself on the frame of the bed and pull yourself back onto the mattress. It was clear that you were far too weak to get out of there. Your eyes drifted over to the window, wondering how high up it was and if you might be able to drag yourself over to it.

Before you could try and come up with a solid escape plan, the door opened.

"You're awake." The man sounded relieved.

"Get away from me!" You demanded, trying to sound stern even though you were scooting back against the headboard to get away.

"Are you okay? Do you feel alright?"

"Don't come near me, you monster! You nearly killed me!"

His eyes widened and he stepped back as if your words physically hit him.

"Yeah." He chuckled dryly. "I am a monster."

For some reason you felt bad for calling him that. He was obviously the one who brought you back to his place, he bandaged the bite on your neck, and he came to check on you as soon as you woke up.

"Sorry." You murmured, glancing down at your hands that rested in your lap. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're right."

You lifted your gaze. The man looked visibly distraught, shame and guilt painting his features.

"I almost killed you. I don't know what got into me last night. I never let my thirst get out of control. I already wasn't in my right mind and when you walked up, I got one whiff of your scent and it drove me to the edge. I went into a blind frenzy. I wasn't aware of what I was doing until it was almost too late. I know an apology doesn't fix it, but I'm so sorry."

"What happened to the girl?" You questioned after a brief moment of silence, hoping you wouldn't regret asking.

"She's okay. I healed her wound and wiped her memory. She won't remember anything that happened."

"But you didn't wipe my memory?"

He hesitated. "No."

"Why?"

"I don't really know. I saw your face and..." He trailed off, unable to really put it into words. "It was just something about you that made me decide not to erase your memory."

You must've had a perplexed expression because he turned away muttering, "I don't know. It's dumb."

"What's your name?" You asked him in an attempt to change the subject since he was obviously uncomfortable.

"Yoongi."

"I'm Y/n."

"Good to know." He smiled a little. "I'll go get you some water."

Your eyes followed him as he walked out of the room.

Well, he wasn't trying to kill you, so that was good. Maybe he really wasn't a bad guy.

He returned to the room almost as quickly as he left, handing you a glass of water. You thanked him and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing your dry mouth and throat.

"You never answered me earlier. Are you okay?" Yoongi asked.

"I'm still pretty weak, but I guess I'm alright. I tried getting up, but my knees gave out."

Yoongi lowered his head. "I'm sorry."

You pressed your lips together and fiddled with the sheets.

"How is your neck?" He gestured to the gauze.

"Sore."

"Do you mind if I check it?"

He could see you were hesitant to accept. He didn't blame you for feeling that way.

"I won't hurt you. I promise."

After a moment of hesitation, you nodded.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and brushed your hair back to assess the damage. You suppressed a shiver at his actions. Careful not to be too rough, he started to remove the medical tape that held the gauze in place. You winced a little, the skin still tender.

"It's pretty bad. I can heal it for you if you want."

"How?"

"Vampire saliva is pretty powerful."

Saliva?

"Do you want your neck to stop hurting?" Yoongi asked when you sat for too long without responding.

"Yes."

"Okay. Stay still."

He leaned in, the warm sensation of his tongue gliding up the side of your neck following seconds later. Heat spread across your cheeks at how intimate the situation seemed. A tingling sensation was felt on the wounded area just before Yoongi pulled away.

"There. All better."

You reached up and gingerly touched the place where the bite mark was, but you didn't feel it nor did it hurt anymore. You skin was completely smooth and free of any puncture marks.

"Thank you."

"It's the least I could do."

"Why didn't you do that while I was unconscious?" You asked out of curiosity.

"I still wasn't fully in my right mind when I brought you back here to patch you up. The wound was still fresh and I was afraid if I tried to heal you, I'd end up killing you instead. I didn't want to risk it."

"Ah." You nodded.

He stayed put on the edge of the bed while picking at his nails, hesitant to leave.

"You may have to stay another day. You know, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you're alright."

"I think I'll be okay with that."

"You will?"

You gave a nod.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Do you need anything?"

"Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry."

"I'll get you whatever you're in the mood for. I'm not much of a cook, but if it's something that can be made at home, I'll try to make it."

"You don't need to do all that."

"Please." There was a hint of desperation in his tone. "It's the least I can do after what I did to you last night."

"You brought me back here, bandaged my wound, healed it, and you've apologized twice. You've done plenty."

He shook his head. "I won't feel better about this until you feel better."

"I didn't know vampires cared so much for their victims." You teased.

Yoongi chortled softly. "We're selective."

You cracked a smile, releasing a short laugh.

Yoongi's undead heart fluttered at how pretty you were when you smiled. He much preferred the happy and relaxed you as opposed to the one that was terrified of him. He was glad to no longer see that fear in your eyes.

"Oh." He realized you hadn't told him what you'd like to eat. If you were going to get your strength built back up, you needed nourishment. "What do you want to eat? Like I said, I'll do whatever. I'll attempt to cook it or I'll go pick it up."

You thought about it for a moment before giving Yoongi a response. The food you were craving needed to be picked up, but he didn't mind. In fact, he hurried off to go retrieve your meal almost as soon as you gave him an answer.

His eagerness was amusing. Vampires in stories and movies were always depicted as heartless creatures who had no remorse for the victims they killed. Yoongi wasn't like that. Guilt was written all over his face for the first few minutes he was in the room with you, and even when the atmosphere was less tense, he was still doing his best to make sure you were taken care of. He was so ready to make up for what he did last night that you were almost certain this wasn't a normal occurrence.

Yoongi returned home less than fifteen minutes after rushing out, your bag of food clutched in his hand.

Your face lit up when he walked into the bedroom and presented you with the bag. You gratefully took it, thanking him for going out to get it to which he merely shrugged.

"I'll let you eat your meal in peace." He turned to leave, walking towards the door.

"Wait."

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't mind the company."

Yoongi was surprised by the offer you extended. Though you didn't outrightly state that you wanted him to stay, it was very much implied.

He moved to sit at the end of the bed while you pulled your food out.

"So, do you always bring your victims home and take care of them?" You asked, opening up the takeout container.

"No. This is the first time."

"I must be special or something." You chuckled, taking a bite of food.

"You are."

You stopped chewing, glancing over at him.

"I brought you here because I couldn't bear to leave you in the alley. The thought of it made my stomach twist with guilt." He admitted.

"But you left the other girl."

"She was drunk, anyway. Since I wiped her memory she'll just think she blacked out from drinking too much."

Your nail picked at the edge of the styrofoam container, silently processing his words.

"I don't understand. Why did you bring me here? What was so special about me?"

"I... thought you were pretty." The last part was said under his breath, but he was close enough for you to hear.

Before you could respond, he started rambling.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure I've made you uncomfortable and after what happened last night, I'm certain you're not interested. Plus, you don't even know me."

"That can be changed though."

Yoongi met your gaze, his brows pulling together.

"We can start as friends and just get to know each other."

"Friends." He echoed, nodding. "Okay."

"Good. Why don't you start? Tell me a little about yourself."

Yoongi started by telling you some of his hobbies, easing in with a light subject before getting into the heavier stuff like when he was first turned and how difficult it was to navigate his new life. He even let you ask questions, openly answering all of them. In turn, you shared a little bit about your own life.

You still didn't know Yoongi, but what little you had heard about him made you see that he was a decent guy and someone you wanted to continue to get acquainted with.

You'd be staying with Yoongi for at least another day so he could make sure you fully recovered, but who knows? Maybe you'd decide to stay a little longer.

Jungkook ♱ Jimin ♱ Taehyung ♱ Namjoon ♱ Hoseok ♱ Jin

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