#look! VAMPIRES EVEN IN MY PLAYLIST

[igotsnothing]

Shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people.

Oh, yes: tag game me! I was tagged by @akitasimblr, who is one of the first simblrs I ever followed. I love her edits, her sims (Maria and her "Woof-Woof" live in my heart rent-free), the Harper legacy (OMG, what a lesson on how to play legacies and I am failing splendidly...) and of course, LE CHAT. I was also tagged by my dear @greighish, who is the kind of person who when they enter the scene, they class up the joint, conversations get smarter, the air quality gets better, the silver polishes itself...You get the (museum-quality) picture: cool writer, music connoisseur, creative simmer, and kind and lovely human.

Thanks for the tag, friends!❤️

Umm... so nevermind that most of the selections on my playlist consist of morbid-sounding titles that make me seem like a hella off-brand Wednesday Adams. I am actually quite cheerful and upbeat when I'm lip synching to Pantera’s “Walk”.

Deadcrush- alt-J

The Actor- alt-J

Ave Plague- King Plague

Half Life- Zola Jesus

Wolf Like Me- TV On The Radio

Forever Suffer- Dark

The Killing Moon- Echo and the Bunnymen

Bela Lugosi Is Dead- Bauhaus

Taro- alt-J

Riverside- Agnes Obel

Who is gettin' tagged? Cool peeps: @crabbeychick, @silentsundown, @box-of-sims, and @ladysakuraavalon. You know the drill: feel free to ignore, etc. etc. etc. ❤️

[hosiergay]

there are armands and lestats everywhere for those with the eyes to see

i found these looking at an art archive for a museum and?? that's them

[taintandviolent]

sin creeps in ; Nosferatu x Reader

summary: You're plagued by heinous nightmares of a mysterious monster, but you can't help but feel drawn to he who plagues you.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.5K | female reader, monster fucking, vampires, vampire sex, bloodplay, biting, drinking blood / blood loss, mentions of death, making out, smut, unprotected sex, mentions of accents, shadow play (fingering)????.

a/n: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR NOSFERATU 2024! this is just.... listen, I'm not even going to try to justisfy myself. rack up yet another hear me out moment for me. you either understand or you don't. shorter than I wanted it to be, but I needed to get this out and sate my hunger. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

You awake with a strangled gasp, your hands flying to your throat as your breath gradually returns. The nightmares had roused you, as they had every night, but this time, something lingered. Your room was frigid; the gauzy curtains fluttered in front of the open window like misplaced ghosts, allowing the chill of the night to penetrate your quarters. Everything looks terrifying at night; familiar shapes are transformed into horrible spectres, and your very room feels unknown. Unsafe. 

He is here. For the first time in several nights, you weren’t dreaming – he has come for you.

“I know that you are here with me,” you bravely whisper into the emptiness of your own bedroom. The wind whistled, a familiar sound, but something growled – growled in a language you didn’t speak, but understood. The voice was low, gravelly, and heavily accented. 

Hurriedly, you kick the sheets from your legs. The moonlight pales your skin, washing you in its blanch, bluish tone. Gripping your gown with both hands, you gather it up your thighs, exposing them to the cold. The chill of the wind hits your center, and you hiss through your teeth. Your head drops to your chest, and so does your gaze, watching patiently. At the edge of your bed, a large, slender shadow manifests. Him. 

You dare not look up. The feeling of his presence petrifies you, but also arouses you – letting a slick warmth pool deeply between your legs. 

The shadows continue to creep further up your bed, until they reach your feet, which twitch in response. Up, up, up… along your shins. Your skin prickles, and you shiver, doing your best to remain calm. Though he doesn’t touch you, you feel him. You feel every pass of his large hand as it makes its way up your body. His shadow glides over your hip, to your stomach and finally between your plump breasts, coming to a stop over your beating heart. It thumps away like a rabbit’s heart underneath the blackness of his form, and you hear a ragged, strained groan.

Then, with no warning, it moves down, leaving a cold, lifeless chill in its path like a gust of winter wind. You pant, desperately clinging to what breath you have. All at once, the shadow envelopes the soft, warm mound between your legs and your hands fall to the bed, bracing yourself. You have felt his ghostly touches for countless nights, tasting your body as a lover would, but each time your body climbed the peak, the sensations disappeared.  He comes to you in dreams, always leaving you unsatisfied. Your chest heaves in the night, cold droplets of sweat peppering your decollete and breasts. Your hands claw the sheets while you dream, but never reach euphoria.

Tonight, there are new sensations. The phantom wisp of his middle finger runs along the length of your slit. Grazing it. Somehow, you feel his finger part your wet folds, toying with your most sensitive areas. The nonexistent pads of his fingers sweep back and forth over your swelling clit, bringing a spasmodic twitch from each of your muscles. Wanting. Craving. While the sensation lacks the familiar warmth of a living man, it is bountiful with pleasurable feelings – your body responds embarrassingly; your shoulders shudder violently. 

He inhales, a deeply hollow sound. “You desire this… thine own body craves it….” 

The accent seems to fill his entire mouth, rumbling in his throat as he speaks slowly, drawing out each word like an incantation. You let out a plaintive moan, throwing your head back against the pillows, the down feathers crackling underneath you. As though he’s still pleasuring you, your hips writhe back and forth, practically convulsing with need. The shadow of his hand is gone from your body, replaced by the looming darkness of his physical form. After a moment of trepidation, you finally lift your head, and stare into the dark, terrifying eyes that watch you. 

You swallow hard. “I do.” 

A moment passes before you continue. “Take me as you will, for I am yours.” You consent again, desperate to convey your own insatiable hunger, your unimaginable need. 

Another intake of breath from him – it almost sounds labored, painful. His footsteps are dreadful as he moves around to the side of your bed. He’s tall, his form stretching towards the ceilings and towering over you, consuming your atmosphere as he had in your nightmares. His silhouette is large; enhanced by the countless furs he has on.

Weightlessly, his lithe, ghastly fingers reach for you and make contact with your form. They are cold, and the icy feeling of them penetrate the thin fabric of your nightgown. He moves gradually, but hungrily, feeling the curves of your body beneath the cotton. As he moves southward, his fingers skim over the peak of your breast, a nail catching on the swollen nipple. It hurts, but your chest jerks forward still, craving more of his touch. 

Pulling a breathy moan from deep within your throat, his long, sharp nails rake across the tender flesh of your thigh. It’s bathed in the silvery moonlight, which casts horrible, elongated shadows of his fingers down towards your center. He scrapes downward, his middle finger digging into the flesh enough to leave a reddened streak behind, but not so much to break the skin.

“P-please…” you mewl, looking up into his horrifying visage. The sight of him fills you with dread and disgust, but like a single drop of blood in water, it’s tainted with something else, something else that has been lingering in your system for days. 

He’s above you now, though you don’t remember seeing him move atop of you. Still, he’s there. The bed creaks as you push yourself into the mattress, whimpering underneath him. He lowers himself down onto you, the brush of his mustache tickles your face as he lingers above you. A second passes and his waiting mouth envelops yours. He tastes damp and cold, faintly of ash and earth. His tongue slips out and it too is cold, slipping wetly along your own and along your bottom lip. His kiss is dreadful, but possessive, and he inhales each time you exhale, as though he’s trying to suck the very warmth out of you. No man has kissed you the way Count Orlok kisses you, and the chill of the room disappears, snuffed out by the fire that rages in your lower abdomen. 

Your tongues collide with each other; you tasting his lifelessness, and him tasting your utterly intoxicating, vibrant liveliness. For a moment, the two of you stay intertwined at the mouth until he separates himself, smearing his mouth over the warmth of your neck. He hovers, pausing over your pulse. It thrums under his lips, and his hips urge into yours, indicating his hunger.

There is a shuffle, a rustling of clothing. You try to lift your head up to gaze between your bodies, but his hand holds you fast, pressing you against the pillow. The size of his hand is staggering; his palm underneath your chin, while the fingertips extend past your hairline, into the strands. You shudder again and whisper his name. He inhales as though he plans to speak, but doesn’t. 

The front of your nightgown falls apart, revealing your chest to him. With one hand covetously clutching your breast, his mouth opens between your breasts, the slithery coolness of his tongue gliding down along the length of your sternum. As the teeth puncture your flesh, your hands make fists on either side of your body, pulling the sheets into the confines of your palms. He enters you, in more ways than one, and you feel the steady tug of his mouth as he sucks the blood from your veins. Warmth pools in the cave of your stomach.

The fingers of his other hand crawl up your shoulder, and like a quill in ink, he dips the pads of his fingers into the hollow of your chest, coating them in your crimson essence. He smears the blood along your decollete, along the hem of your nightgown, tugging it harshly over your shoulder. The blood coats you in a flash of warmth, and then chill as it meets the cold air. 

His hips rut against yours as he drinks, the pulse of your blood matching the thrust of his hips. An ache starts in your neck, a slow pulling sensation that has your eyelids fluttering. He moves within you, his length penetrating as deeply as his sharpened teeth have. Your release is found amongst blood and groans and that same language which you understand, but do not speak. His tongue scrubs at your soft skin, lapping up the blood as it comes… as you do. 

The darkness is ever-looming, and as your aching cunt ebbs its throbbing, it settles down upon you. You let yourself fall backwards into the abyss, freely. It takes you, wrapping its arms around your tiny frame which is dwarfed by his stature. His mouth breaks free of your bloodied skin with a slick pop.  Into the softness of your skin, you hear him growl, ‘Mine.’ The feeling vibrates against your neck, and your lids flutter shut.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི His⋆♱⋆Affliction ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

snyopsis: The vampire Alucard finds an injured traveler at his doorsteps, and nurses her back to health. Though what happens during your recovery is woefully unexpected, but intrinsically welcomed.

tags: porn w/plot (rare for me lmao), he fell first but you fall harder type trope, yearning, pining, slow burn (i tried), passionate, penetration, cunnalingus, cum eating, fingering, hair pulling, marking, biting, bloodletting, creampie, praise, usuage of “darling”, “dear”, “da draga mea” (“yes my dear” in romanian). L bomb gets dropped bc yk what, hell yeah?, pathetic alucard bc absolutely yes

word count: 11.5k wowza

a/n: a true passion project i love you alucard THANK YOU @cosmicporos for helping me with ideas for this fic mwah and also @eridanusco for informally requesting LMAO. Also sorry i dont know how to end fics pls let me live guys pls i tried :(

(click the title for a playlist! I listened to it a billion times when writing this)

Sounds of a distance neigh grew closer and closer to the ear of the blonde dhampir- who sat desolate inside cold walls. Your loyal steed, galloped you to the tall castle doors, pacing back and forth, whining for attention until The Alucard finally came down and took your lumbering body inside, and your horse to the stable of course, he’s not a monster…as much as he beleive so.

After what seemed to feel like a coma, you open your eyes to the stinging rays of sunlight that pass your eyelids; Waking up to a room unfamiliar and a man even moreso.

Alucard sat in a wooden chair that smelled of the same cedar he tended the fire with.

As the scent and the sight hit your senses, you rustled up and back into the corner of the walls in a hurried panic.

Alucard's eyes widened a bit, surprised by your wake. He gently placed his occupying book down and slowly got up from the chair, holding his hands up as if to show you he meant no harm.

"Easy, easy now...calm down. You're safe."

“Who the hell are you-“ you question in fright at his fanged teeth.

He gave a slight frown, eyes shifting a bit as he studied you.

“This is my home, your wounds…you’ve been here just short of a day.”

He explained, keeping his distance to not further frighten you- pointing to your abdomen.

“You're- a vampire?!!”

He chuckled slightly, not amused by the fear in your eyes but understanding your reaction”

"Half vampire, actually” He went on, “But I mean you no harm, you have my word."

“You could be lying”.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of irritation in his voice at the accusation

"You'll have to trust me on that, won't you? If I wanted to hurt you, I could've done so long ago. You were passed out and bleeding on your horse's back."

Realization hit you, his arms crossing over his chest as you stay silent in protest.

"You were quite injured, I patched you up the best I could and kept you in this room to rest. Please allow me to heal you back to health completely.”

You stay in the corner of the bed with your hands clutched onto the thick fur blanket. You give him a nod, accepting his proposal, although reluctantly.

He nods back, sensing the fear and uncertainty radiating off of you but appreciative that you aren’t too stubborn.

"It would've been wrong to leave you to bleed out in the woods." He said, slowing returning to the fire and book.

“I didn’t know vampires had morality.” You retort, slipping out of your mouth without much thought.

He but only chuckles, you can almost hear his smile as he speaks, low and soft.

“I’ve had my share of…distasteful humans. But your horse made a good case for you, you know.”

You have to almost stop a smile- becoming more comfortable by the second with his seeming civility.

Not too comfortable, though, feeling the bandages around your waist.

He looks back and sees you touching them through your shirt.

“Can I see them?” He asks, walking closer to you now with a voice of concern.

You nod.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, being careful not to touch you unnecessarily, reaching out and gently unwrapping the bandages, his movements slow and deliberate as he revealed the wounds beneath.

You wince slightly at the cool air hitting your broken skin, your stomach flexing inwards and your lungs expanding.

He pauses for a moment as you flinch, his eyes flicking up to your face.

"I'm sorry, I'll be gentle," he says softly before continuing to unwrap the bandages, revealing the cuts and gashes on your body. His expression hardened again as he took in the extent of your injuries, his fingers tracing lightly over the wounds, gentle and steady.

“How do they feel?” He asks, taking all the bandages off and reaching to the nightstand for more.

“Fine” You reply.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? I can sense your emotions, you know. And you're not very good at hiding them."

You feel your brows contort into irritation, you dont even know what for- maybe your innate distrust.

"What, you're mad that I can read you so easily?" He replied with a smile, enjoying your annoyed expression a little more than he thought.

“It's a bit annoying…” You say, raising your brows, with a sprinkle of sass.

He smirked again, his lips playful.

"Well, I'm sorry if it's annoying. But you're quite expressive. It's hard not to notice when you look like that.”

“Like what-?” You retort.

“That.” He replies quickly, making you swallow your words.

You watch as he redresses your wounds, taking his time to wrap the bandages around your waist and stomach.

You take that time to look at his face more carefully than before- being this close to a vampire wasn’t something you think you’d live long enough to be able to observe like this.

You noticed his light amber hair, his yellow eyes and long lashes that gave him an epicene charm. You couldn’t keep your curious eyes from wandering over his features, he smelled like oud and iron.

When he was done, you looked out toward the open window, the sill swaying back and forth as the wind dance.

“How long will they take to heal?” You ask as you look back down at his hands.

"It depends. The wounds were quite severe, so it may take a while for them to fully close. The medicine should accelerate the healing process, but it's not instantaneous.”

“Okay- well, if it's fine i'll return to my town then by tomorrow.”

His expression shifted to surprise at your statement.

"You want to leave already? You're not fully healed yet, it's not safe for you to go back out there. They could open, get infection, you could get-“

“I don't wish to bother you any longer- you've already helped me enough.” You state. You’ve been quite wary about vampires- raised to practically believe they were spawns of hell itself.

He raised an eyebrow, his surprise quickly replaced by a hint of irritation

"Bother me? Nonsense. You're a guest in my home, and I don't intend to just let you wander off into danger when you're just as injured as when I found you.”

“It's still an inconvenience…”

He lets out an annoyed sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're insufferable, you know that?” It's not an inconvenience. You're my responsibility now, whether you like it or not.”

You let out an equally annoyed huff, but you don’t bother to object anymore, clearly stuck and indefensible.

“Fine”. You breathe out.

He gave you a firm nod, satisfied that you had agreed to stay.

"Good. You'll stay here until you're fully healed. I won't have you running off and getting yourself killed out there."

He watched you as you settled back into bed, his expression softening slightly

"I'll be back to check on you later. Try not to do anything reckless while I'm gone." He says, walking out the door.

“Wait!” You shout.

He pauses in the doorway, turning to look at you.

"Yes?"

“What’s your name?”

“Alucard”, is what you hear before the shut of the door.

You hear his descending footsteps on the floor of the castle, plopping your head back into the goosefeather pillows as you stared at the brick ceiling, trying to get comfortable again, as much as you could considering your circumstance.

Hours had passed, and sleep didn’t miss you on its way.

Alucard had come back to your room, opening it after not hearing any confirmation at his soft knocks.

He saw your sleeping state and moved quietly as to make sure sure not to disturb you, scanning over your form, taking note of your condition and whether you were in any pain or discomfort even if your unconsciousness.

He leaned over and placed a hand on your forehead, checking for a fever or sweats.

After making his observations, his eyes lingered on your hair, fingers carefully brushing against a few strands as he withdraws his hand.

He found himself captivated by the color and texture, a hint of curiosity flickering within as the sunlight filtered through the window and casted a warm glow over your skin, the smooth contours of your face and neck.

He looked at your physiognomy in almost jealously, envious of your humanness. The feeling of your warm skin coursing with blood that hadn’t yet gone through the process of death. He brushed his knuckle softly against your cheekbone but quickly removed it once he felt you slowly stir away.

You crack your eyes open and flutter your flashes as the setting sun pokes at your lids again.

“Is it evening already?”

He nods, his voice low and quiet, walking around the corners of the room to light the candles scattered around to offer some light before the moons arrival.

"Yes, it's getting late. You've been asleep for quite a while."

You let out a long drawn yawn and attempt to sit up near the headboard.

He watches, eyes tracking your every move. He can see the pain and stiffness in your movements, a pang of guilt tugging at him for not being able to do anything for you in that moment.

"Careful," he murmurs, voice taint with concern. "You're still injured, remember? You shouldn't be sitting up yet. Let your body heal."

“I can't just sleep all day.”

"Yes, you can”…He continues, trying to push through without the conversation. “You're still recovering. You need to take it easy and let your body heal itself. Sleeping is the best way to do that." He crosses his arms over his chest, a hint of frustration in his voice over your seemingly unmovable persistence.

You frown at his scolding, crossing your arms back.

"What's with the pout? You look like a petulant child."

You scoff, leaning your head back and mouth slightly agape.

“That's rude...”

He chuckles, a smirk growing at your response.

"Is it? I was merely stating the truth.

You're acting like a spoiled brat who doesn't want to listen to their caretaker."

“I'm just tired of sleeping so much...”

“Well I can’t just let you run around and frolick can I?”

You pout again, knowing he’s right but not wanting to agree out of…pettiness.

He shakes his head and sighs, “Stay here, I’ll bring you some food”.

“Yeah sure i’ll stay! No problem Doctor!” You say with fringed enthusiasm. “Can’t really go run and frolick can I…?” You mumble after.

“I heard that.” He says as he walks out, making you chuckle a bit.

As you wait, your stomach growls even more, wondering what kind of food you’ll be given. With all the wealth and luxury displayed in just the small portion of the castle you’ve been limited to witness- you had set your expectations high….unfortunately.

He comes back not more than an hour or so later- hair tied up in a low messy bun and what seems to be flour on his pants.

You see Alucard bring in a tray of a small loaf of bread and a bowl of what smelled like plain chicken stock, small floating pieces of carrot.

He sits down next to the bed, putting the tray on the edge of the bed before helping you sit up just a bit so you could eat.

You look at him and then the food- the silence and your inactive made him scoff.

“Are you hands broken all of a sudden? Do you need me to feed you?” He says bluntly, raising his brows in disbelief of your shamelessness.

You gave him a shrug and innocent expression smile- but he lets himself fall to your poorly executed manipulation.

He tears a piece of the what you can only imagine is some kind of buckwheat bun, as he dips it into the plain soup.

“Fattening me up so you can eat me?” You say as the soup soaked bread moves closer to your mouth.

He rolls his eyes and holds it closer to you to take a bite.

Before you open your mouth to accept the bread, you catch a wiff of the smell and…your head tilts away swiftly.

“Oh gods- you don’t even need to fatten me that’s gonna kill me first!” You say as you shake your head.

“What? Stop being dramatic. It’s just bread, here” He says, tilting your head back toward his face and the bread.

“Where did you get that? Did my horse produce it?!”

Alucard furrows his brows and scoffs.

“I made this…it took a while by the way.”

Your eyes widen- not knowing if you should be surprised and touched that he attempted to make you food or if you should be alarmed at how horribly it went.

“Oh…”

He sighs, “Is it really that bad..? What do you humans even eat besides bread and beer?”

You scoot back a bit, creating a good distance away from the bread.

“Is this- just chicken stock?” You ask, trying to find any kind of compliment to give him.

He looks at you deadpanned, and you have to stifle a smile.

“I should have gave that carrot to the damn horse…” He mumbled before getting up to leave with the tray.

“Wait wait!” You laugh as you protested, waving your arms back up to urge him to stay.

“I’ll try it…since you went out of your way.”

He sighs, giving you another chance and placing the tray back on your lap.

You have to gather more courage than you might have ever before- taking the same piece of bread he tore and counting your blessing before putting it into your mouth.

Truthfully- the chicken stock made it somewhat bearable, masking the stale like gummy texture of the bread…and swallowing it before it could bother you too much.

Alucard watched at the bedpost, arms crossed as he observed your expression.

You look up at him after the first bite, tilting your head back and forth and twisting your arm to try and say it wasn’t too aweful.

He lets outs a chuckle and sits back down on the chair; occupying his earlier read as he waits for you to finish your meal.

As soon as you’re finished, he glances at the empty bowl and plate, a hint of relief in his eyes

"You ate everything, good. It's important to keep your strength up while you're recovering."

You simply nod, not wishing you further frustrate him over his cooking inability.

"Get some rest now. You need it."

He takes the tray and turns to leave, but once again hesitates at the door, as if his body screams at him to stay longer than needed.

Looking back at you; his eyes roaming over your face as if committing it to memory.

“I never got your name, now that I think about it. I think I’d like to know what to address you as.”

You hesitate for a moment- but it’s the least you could offer, formality wise.

“Y/n.” You respond.

He replies in almost a whisper.

"Goodnight, Y/n." He smiles.

He won’t be going to bed anytime soon but he hopes your rest is committed.

“Goodnight, Alucard.”

Again is the shut of the door, and you know you won’t see him again til the next morning.

After he leaves the room, he stand in the hallway for a moment, lost in thought- he feels a heaviness in his chest at the sound of his name on your lips. It’s been a long time since anyone has said his name at all- nor with as much tenderness and void of disdain as the way in which you spoke it.

The next day comes, much like the last in its configuration, just as the next few would likely follow.

Alucard comes in and moves quietly around, tending to the small fire in the hearth and tidying up a bit around your room; keeping his movements soft and silent, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere while you sleep.

He notices the moment you start to stir, his eyes flickering towards your sleeping figure on the bed. He watches you wake, and a hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips as he watches you blink sleepily.

“Goodmorning”, you hear from the vampire, chuckling as he sees you stretch. “Sleep well?”.

You reply with a nod, yawning greatly before giving him a “Mhm”.

He feels a sense of relief wash over him, glad that you were able to get some restful sleep. Moving closer to the bed, his eyes scan over you for any signs of discomfort.

"That's good to hear. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

You shake my head, truthfully feeling much lighter than the previous day. You sit up so you can present your wounds to him.

He nods in approval, satisfied assurance while he steps closer to the bed until he sits on the edge, gently reaching out to examine your wounds, his fingers lightly brushing over the bandages that cover your injuries and unwrapping you.

"They're healing well. You're lucky you didn't sustain any serious damage."

He relays, his palms trailing down your sides as he tries to feel for any swelling, and you seem to find your throat a bit dry.

He can hear you gulp, and he reluctantly pulls his hands away and starts to wrap you with new bandages, rolling your shirt back down.

“Thank you”, you reply, trying to fill the empty space between you two, even if it’s just verbal.

He pauses for a moment, surprised by your words. He hadn't expected you to thank him, and the sincerity in your voice catches him off guard.

He clears his throat again, trying to maintain his demeanor.

"You don't need to thank me. I'm just doing what I can to ensure your recovery."

You smile and nod, impressed by his humbleness.

“Do you think, I can go outside now?

Maybe for a walk.” You ask.

He hesitates, considering your request. Youve been confined to the room for almost a week now, and the thought of you getting some sun wasn’t the worst.

"Hm...I suppose it would be good for you to get some fresh air. But only for a little while. You're still recovering, so you shouldn't push yourself too much."

You smile even wider, glad that he wasn’t cruel or unreasonable.

“Thank you, will you join me?” You offer.

He feels his brows contort with confusion, but he can't help the small smile that follows.

"Me? You want me to go with you?"

“Well i've never been to this part of the country- i’m not so used to it.

He chuckles softly, finding your naiveté endearing

"I see. Very well, I'll accompany you on your walk." He replies, coming back to the edge of the bed and helping you up, putting out his forearm for you to hold yourself up with- making sure you don't stumble or fall.

"Take it slow. You might be a bit unsteady at first."

You hold on tight, feeling your limbs finally stretch out after hours of laying down with not much breaks.

He watches you carefully, his eyes following your every move. He notices the warmth of your hands on his arm, gripping and clinging to him so tight, and the closeness of your body sends a current through his body- and he finds himself putting a bit more effort into trying to push down the strange feelings that are bubbling up inside him, because of you.

"Easy there. Don't push yourself too hard."

Once he makes note of your posture, he slowly releases your arm, though keeping a hand hovering nearby, just in case you need support.

“Do you happen to have any clothes?” You ask, wanting to get into something more fresh compared to your tattered and messy clothing.

"Yes, I think I do. Stay here.” He says, quickly moving out of the room to retrieve them and arriving again only minutes later with a neatly folded stack of garments in his arms.

He hands them to you, his eyes flickering over your figure as he does so.

"These should fit you. Let me know if they don't."

You take the small pile with both hands and go to the washroom of your familiar room to change.

Alucard waited patiently outside the door, his mind racing as he imaged you changing inside- hearing the rustling of fabric and wanting to ask if you needed help but he didn’t want to overstep- didn’t want to make you suspect anything more of it all.

Desperately he tried to push the thoughts down into the back of his head, but they keep creeping up, making his heart race and his palms sweat a bit.

When you emerged back out in the clothes he gave you, his eyes almost widened, a faint melancholy in his gaze.

“What…you look like you want to say something.” You ask.

He looks back into your eyes as he’s snapped out of his thoughts.

“Sorry- sorry…no you look fine. It’s just that” He rambled on, “The clothes belonged to my mother, they suite you.”

Your brows rise at the information and your stomach drops a bit- feeling sorrow for him in his dark undertones. But you stay silent.

“Alright”, he continues, draping a red scarf around your neck.

“Keep this on, it’s cold in the mornings.” He says as he pulls your hair up from the scarf and lays it behind your shoulders, fingers brushing your ears slightly as he stands much closer now.

You only nod, allowing him to open the door and lead you out of the room for the first time.

When you step out of your enclosure of a room, you feel the smooth velvet carpet rolling out into the deep hallways of the ancient castle, soothing the soles of your bare feet as you walk alongside Alucard, looking around at the ceilings and the fixtures that adorn the home.

He watches as you take in the grandeur of the castle, a hint of pride in his eyes. He’s lived here for so long, but he sometimes forgets how impressive it must look to outsiders

"It's a bit much, I know. But it's been in my family for generations."

“No, it’s beautiful. Really.” You assure, taking everything in as you finally get to explore the place you’ve been locked up in.

He smiles again at your words, feeling a small swell of warmth in his chest. Expecting you like most people to be intimidated or scared by the castle's size and antiquity, but he can tell you seem genuinely impressed by it.

"Thank you. My father, Dracula, had it built many years ago. He desired opulence." He says with cadence.

As he explains more of the building’s interior, you both finally reach a exit. You can hear the chirping of birds and the wind on the other side as if a portal to an unexplored grove were near.

Alucard pushes the heavy doors open, revealing the sprawling gardens outside. The morning sun is casting a warm golden glow over the landscape.

The gardens- a riot of color, with blooming flowers and lush greenery filling every inch of space.

He watched as you step out into the grass. He can't help but find the sight of you barefoot in the garden endearing, your toes sinking into the soft earth as you breathe in the sweet spring air.

You open your eyes and look up, appreciating the sky from below opposed to the window from a distance as to which you were forced to do for the past few days.

Alucard, though, doesn’t follow your gaze. He instead can't help but admire the way the sun catches in your hair, and on your skin, making you look like you're glowing. A second, much more beautiful sun.

He finds himself staring for a moment, mesmerized by your beauty.

He also notices the way you hold the shawl closer to your body, and he wonders if you're cold or if there's something else you're trying to hide. He tries to resist the urge to reach out and brush a stray strand of hair out of your face again, wanting to feel just an atom of your being, as if to merge them with his.

He step closer, concern etched on his face

"Are you cold?"

You look back at him, your brows contorted and a soft look of vulnerability on your face.

“A little”, you admit.

He sees the goosebumps emerged on your soft and sunkissed skin, and he frowns slightly.

He takes the coat off his back, and drapes it over your shoulders

"Here, this should help." He says as he pulls you closer to him, your shoulders rubbing up as he keeps the draped jacket close around you, a bit too big but enough to warm you.

You give him an appreciative smile, and he returns one right back.

He watches you return your eyes back on the scenery, his gaze softening as he sees the way you admire the beauty of the world around you.

He’s seen this view countless times before, smelled the same air and felt the same breeze pass him by. But somehow, it seems more vibrant with you here with him now.

“Would you like to go back inside now?” You ask.

He shakes his head, not wanting the moment to end just yet.

"Not yet. Let's stay out here a little longer. Is that okay?” He asks softly.

You nod, happy that he’s willing to indulge you in just a bit more time outside.

You can’t help but feel his eyes glancing to you every now and then- and you try to ignore the urge to get closer to him.

Not for warmth, or because of the cold, or anything other than the flickering need to be closer to him.

Something entirely separate, something entirely unfamiliar.

After another few minutes, you two decide to come back inside to prevent any possibility of you catching a cold.

Alucard shows you a few more hallways and rooms along the way, pointing them onto and providing a little history lesson every now and then, not wanting to bombard you with his entire lifetimes worth of stories. When you arrive back at your room, he watches you settle back into the bed. A strange mix of emotions swirling within him. he wants to stay with you, but he knows he should give you some space.

He lingers in the doorway for a moment before speaking up again.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be around."

You smile and nod, “Thank you”. You whisper.

“Of course. I'll be in the library if you need me." He hesitates for a moment, as if he wants to say something more, but then he turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the room, leaving the door open this time- as if inviting you to join him.

Maybe you’re just thinking too much into it.

As he sits down on the wooden library chairs, trying to concentrate on the book in his hand and the ink that sticks to his quill, his thoughts keep drifting back to you, wondering what you're doing in your room and if you're comfortable.

He can't shake the feeling that he's being drawn to you like a moth to a flame- in an inseparable trap he set himself. His affliction.

Lost in his own mind, he snaps out of it as he hears a knock at the library door. He looks up, setting his book down to calls out.

"Come in."

You hear his command, opening the tall doors and peaking your head in to find him.

He looks up as you enter the space, his eyes widening slightly as you approach closer and walk down the sparse steps- secretly trying to hide the fact that he was thinking about you just seconds ago.

"Ah, I wasn't expecting you so soon.

Is everything alright?" He asks, feeling his heart suddenly accelerate.

“Yeah, sorry” You reply, handing him back his jacket, “you just forgot this”.

As he takes the jacket from you, his finger brushing against yours for a brief moment that he curses himself for not keeping it a second longer.

He looks at it for a moment before looking back at you.

"Ah, thank you. I didn't realize I had left it behind." He says in a more hoarse tone than usual.

You chuckle and nod, “I also didn't realize.” You say in a lighthearted tone.

He chuckles softly in return, his eyes locked on yours- Acutely aware of the way your scent fills the air around him, intoxicating him with its sweetness.

"I suppose I was too distracted this morning to notice."

He finds it harder and harder to resist the urge to reach out to you, to pull you closer to him with each growing second.

You break the short lapse of silence, your eyes trailing down to the desk full of books and sheets of freshly inked script.

“Reading?”

He also glances at the books on the table, trying to compose himself.

"Ah, yes. I was just doing some light reading. and annotation. Trying to take my mind off things." He says before looking back at you, his gaze lingering on your face. H can feel the tension between you growing, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions

“What, uhm- kind of things?” You ask, immediately feeling as if you overstepped.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should be honest with you. but he can't bring himself to lie.

"You." He speaks.

You nod, understanding as you touch your wound on your side- Assuming he’s referring to your injuries, knowing how much he cares to treat you. Pushing away the initial thoughts of affection, not wanting to get your hopes up.

He nods, a small sigh escaping his lips. He conflicts with himself- wanting to tell you every preoccupied thought he’s had of you since the moment he found you on the back of his horse.

"Yes, that. And other things." He slips in quietly.

“You should rest, you’re not well enough to be up for so long.” He says a bit more sternly.

You furrow your brows a bit in unease, wishing he elaborated.

“Right.” You respond plainly.

He sees the disappointment in your eyes and immediately regrets his words. He didn't mean to push you away, but he's afraid of letting his guard down, of getting too close to you.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated with himself

"I just... I don't want you to overexert yourself."

“It’s fine-“ You reply quickly, not wanting to invest more emotional energy into the exchange, exiting the library and walking back to your room, each step heavy and unrelenting as if your body rejects being away from him.

He watches your back as you leave, his heart sinking at the sound of your steps descending in volume. He wants to call out to you, to tell you to stay, but the words stick in his throat like a lozenge.

He sits there for a moment, frozen in place, before cursing himself under his breath. He knows he's messed up, but he's not sure how to fix it just yet.

Alucard remains in the library, pacing back and forth restlessly, still. He can't focus on anything, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

He curses himself for being so awkward and aloof, for not being able to express his feelings properly even if they aren’t all fleshed out and appropriate.

He wants to follow you, to make things right, but he's afraid of what might happen if he does. So he stays in the library, brooding and frustrated, feeling more alone than ever.

You on the other hand, stay cooped up in your room. Equally frustrated- pacing around the bed unaware of how similar you both seem to cope.

You stay until the sun sets, wondering if he’ll show anytime soon to check up on you like he has been- angrily ruffled into the bedsheets as you almost wish you never went to the library, wishing you just left it at the peaceful garden walk from this morning.

“Fuck it?” You think to yourself, just go. “Just get up…walk over to him and figure it out? Right?” What even is there to figure, maybe, you were just overthinking.

You put your hand on the doorknob, resting before you swing it open.

As you prepare to take the first step out your eyes widen at the sight of him right infront of you with his hand raised.

He freezes in his tracks, surprised to see you standing in the doorway. He hadn't expected you to open the door just as he was about to knock, and his face looking more pale than before, somehow.

He looks at you, heart racing as he takes in the sight- feeling a mix of relief and nervousness, unsure of what to say or do next.

“…Hi.” You break the silence.

He swallows hard, his palms feeling clammy. He forces himself to speak, his voice sounding hoarse and awkward

"Hey. I was just coming to check on you." He drew on.

“I was also going to find you.” You confess.

He raises an eyebrow, surprised by your words. He hadn't expected you to be looking for him as well, his hopes rocking up.”

"Were you?"

“Yeah well- it's evening so I figured you'd want to check up on me again.” You sidetrack, dancing around the idea of anything else.

He nods, feeling a pang of guilt.

He had been avoiding you all day, and yet here you were, still thinking about him and his routine. Sure, he was too, but he hated the idea of burdening you with such heavy feelings in his care.

"Right, of course. I should've been more on top of it."

You nod, letting him into the room as you go to sit down on the bed as he follows you, his heart pounding in his chest. Why?

He can feel a tension between you two, one that’s been bubbling and thickening like a witches brew.

He tries to focus on the task at hand, but his mind keeps drifting to other things as he approaches you, his hand trying not to linger too long- prudent in his action.

He keeps his gaze clinical as he examines the wounds, rolling your shirt up and unwrapping the bandaged, but it's hard not to notice the softness of your skin beneath his fingers.

He gently touches the edges of the scars, his touch cautious as he checks for any signs of infection or irritation.

He’s aware of how close he is to you, how intimate the situation is, how for the past few days that he’s tried to ignore- scared of pushing himself onto you in any way.

He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and it's making it difficult for him to concentrate as he can see you watching him.

He glances up at you, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment.

“You look worried....”

He looks up at you again, his expression serious.

"It's just... the scars are still a bit red. I'm worried about infection."

You nod, your expression also turning more stone.

He frowns, his fingers tracing the edges of the scars lightly.

"I'll have to keep a closer eye on them. Make sure they don't get worse."

You nod, wincing slightly as he touches them.

He immediately stops touching the scars, his expression softening.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He whispers.

“It's okay- it just stings a little”. You assure.

But he still feels a pang of guilt at the thought of causing you pain, even if it was accidental.

"I'll try to be more careful. I just want to make sure they're healing properly." He goes on, feeling himself open up more- wanting to tell you just how much he cares.

He wraps you back up in new dressing, rolling your shirt down again and leaning down toward you.

“Hold onto me, I’ll help you up.” He says softly, putting his arms around your back as you wrap yours around the back of his neck, holding into him for support as he helps you up onto your feet without too much trouble.

For just a moment your chests press up- but soon letting go.

Alucard steps back, not wanting to cross any lines- but gods is his mind absolute chaos right now.

The feeling of your body closer than it’s ever been- the feeling of almost embracing you was too much for him to handle.

You clear your throat, leaning back against the bedpost, “Earlier today...in the library...”, you go on.

He perks back up, “Yes? What about it?”

“I'm sorry if i seemed too insistent, you probably wanted to be alone”…

He shakes his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Don't apologize. You didn't seem insistent at all. If anything, I found your curiosity endearing."

He sends you a smile, a softer look.

"And I must admit, it was nice to have some company in the library for once. I've been alone for so long that l've almost forgotten what it's like to talk to someone…”

You smile back, “Me too.”

He returns your easygoingness, “You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

“I'm not, it's making me feel better too.”

He chuckles, a bit deeper this time.

"I see. So you're not just a beautiful woman with a sharp mind, you're also honest."

“I hope to be”, you reply wittingly.

“Honesty is a rare quality, you know.

Most people will say anything to get what they want, or to avoid hurting your feelings. But you... you seem to speak your mind without a second thought…Especially about my bread.”

You roll your eyes place and scoff, “I’ll never hear the end of it from you.”

“I’m still hurt.” He says, feigning offense.

The two of you exchange a few more pleasantries, both reveling in the fact that your issues from earlier have been mended and quickly forgotten. Thankfully.

Alucard glances out the window, seeing the darkness of the night outside and hearing your yawn.

"It's late. You should probably get some rest, as much as I wish to keep talking.” He adds on quickly.

You nod, opening the door as he walks out into the doorway.

“Goodnight, dear.” He says politely.

You respond with a kiss on his cheek, quick and gentle.

“Goodnight.” You say with a soft smile, and and shut the door on his dumbfounded face.

He stands there for a moment, stunned by your unexpected kiss.

His hand comes up to touch the spot where your lips had been, a look of surprise and... something else on his face. He shakes his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as he turns and walks away, heading to his own room and recalling the experience with every step. He tries to tell himself that it was just a polite gesture, nothing more, but he can't help the way his heart flutters at the thought of your lips on his skin. He knows any semblance of sleep won’t be easy- not after your stunt.

You sleep deeply through the night and into first light, unable to hear Alucard knocking at your door.

He knocks a second time, a tray of breakfast food in his hands.

Upon your lack of response, he enters the room quietly, his eyes immediately going to your bed to check on your condition- smiling softly as he sees you still asleep, setting the tray of food on a nearby table.

He walks over to the bed, his footsteps light and quiet so as not to wake you. It’s almost noon, and he wants to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of extreme exhaustion- considering the irregular surplus of sleep.

He continues to watch your face- finding himself getting used to the peaceful sight of your sleeping form.

But he notices a look of distress on your face, becoming concerned. He sits down on the edge of the bed, observing intently, his eyes narrowing as he realizes you're having a nightmare of some sort.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should wake you up, but the conviction on your face convinces him to act.

"Hey...wake up." He gently shakes your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your terrors.

He watches as you rise up in a jerked motion- breathe quick and heavy, pupils dilated and expression that of terror.

He places a comforting hand on your back.

"Shh... it's okay. You're safe now. It was just a dream." He says as he rubs your back in soothing circles, his touch gentle and reassuring. He looks at you with concern, his eyes filled with worry

"You were having a nightmare... do you want to talk about it?"

“I don’t really remember it-“ You say in a defeated tone, more annoyed than anything.

"Okay. But if you do, I'm here to listen."

“Thank you”, you say with a faint smile, his hand now on your shoulder.

"Of course.“ He glances over at the tray of food he brought in.

"I brought you some breakfast. You should eat something. It’ll take your mind off it perhaps?”

You take the tray appreciatively, nodding but still disoriented.

He notices the slight change in your expression. He tilts his head slightly, studying your face.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a bit... dazed."

“Sorry- i'm just- still waking up”

He chuckles softly, amused by your sleepy state “It's alright. I understand."

He sits on the edge of the bed again, watching you pick up the food, satisfied that you're finally eating something.

He leans back against the headboard of the bed, content to just sit with you for a while.

"How are your wounds feeling today? Are they healing well?"

“Oh- yes I think so”, you say, putting the tray next to you and turning to face him, lifting your shirt up to let him examine them.

He runs his fingers gently over the healing cuts under your bandages, making sure they're not infected or still bleeding

"Good. They look like they're healing nicely. You'll probably be fully healed in a few more days."

“A few more days...alright”. You start to think to yourself, wondering what'll happen then- considering that you’ll have no need to stay here once you’re healthy.

He notices the look on your face, the slight furrow in your brow as you think to yourself. He lowers your shirt, his gaze fixed on you

"Is something wrong?”, he asks, getting closer to you as he tries to coax it out of you.

You simply shake your head.

He raises an eyebrow, not quite believing you. At all actually.

"You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?"

“I know…” You say, unconvincingly once again.

He reaches out and gently takes your hand in his, his touch gentle and comforting

"You can trust me, you know. I won't judge you. I swear it.” He says with a gentle expression.

“Yeah- yeah I know.” You say quickly, your face developing a rouge at his sudden act of affection. Or maybe it was just- care, a polite gesture of friendship.

You go back to eating your breakfast, slipping your hand out of his.

Even while enjoying your morning meal, your stomach is heavy with the residual feelings of your nightmare- frustration that you can’t seem to remember what made you feel so ill.

“Do you ever get nightmares?” You ask Alucard.

He looks to face you- a bit unprepared for your question but honest.

“At times, they seem more like recollections than fantasies of my mind.”

You furrow your brows, looking done at your food and playing around with it.

“I can’t remember what I was even dreaming about- but it’s a strange feeling.”

You go on, opening up about the discomfort of your body.

He frowns, feeling a mix of sympathy and concern for you. He pulls you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away from you."

You let out a surprised sound- hands hesitating to wrap around him.

He can feel your surprise, unrelenting. He holds you tightly against his chest, one hand gently stroking your hair

"It's okay," he murmurs softly.

"You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. Alright?”

You feel your brows scrunch up and your body lighten- as if he’s shared some room in his body for you to lay your afflictions bare. To take some of the pain from you and lock it away in himself.

With contemplation- you hug him back.

He holds you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head

"That's it," he murmurs. "Just relax. Let me hold you."

His words soothe you like a balm, mending together pensive feelings of melancholy you weren’t even aware of before.

You feel warm tears roll down your cheeks, sniffling before he gently rocking you back and forth as he tries to soothe you

"Shhh, it's okay. Let it all out," he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and compassion.

"I've got you," he continues.

You use every second to try and pull yourself up together- but he wraps around you close, holding you together as you fall apart in his arms.

He continues to whisper words of comfort, his voice low and soothing

"You're doing so well. Just keep breathing. In and out, that's it."

After a few minutes of much needed exhalations, you recover well in the vampires arms.

He feels a sense of relief wash over him as you relax against him. He gently tilts your chin up.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asks gently, his hand still stroking your hair.

You let out a cathartic sigh, nodding.

He cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently brushing away the tears from your face

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. You had me worried for a moment there."

“Sorry...I guess I just haven't had someone hug me a long time.”

He shakes his head, his hand still cupping your cheek.

"You have nothing to apologize for.

And don't ever apologize for needing comfort. Everyone needs a hug sometimes."

As you calm yourself more, Alucard decides to give you some space to recollect yourself, clearly needing it.

“I’ll give you some space. I’ll be in the library, if you need anything.” He reminds, before bidding you a goodbye after making sure you ate.

You take deep inhales and deeper exhales, your mind ringing with his voice guiding you through breathes.

The room becomes quiet and dark, you're left alone with your thoughts. The memory of Alucard's touch and his warm smile are all you can think about, and you can't help but wonder what he's doing right now- deciding it’s better to find out for yourself than wonder.

Alucard looks up as you enter the library.

He sets down the book he was reading and smiles softly.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

You smile and nod, walking closer.

"Come here," he says, patting the chair next to him. "You can keep me company."

You gladly take a seat, eyes roaming over the various books and sheets covering the desk- similar to yesterday’s spreads.

He notices how close your face is to his work. He closes the book, gently tapping your forehead with it.

"You're going to give yourself a headache if you keep reading like that," he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

You pout and rub your forehead.

“Rude…” You say in a whisper.

You scoot closer to get a better look at the writing, your elbows folding on top of the table.

As you observe the scripts, Alucard is more concerned with how beautiful you look- even when you’re concentrated, and he can't help but feel a pang of longing in his chest- quickly pushes those feelings aside, not wanting to ruin the moment with his own desires.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, noticing the pause of his writing and his gaze.

He blinks, realizing he's been caught staring. He quickly looks away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Ah, nothing," he says, trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

"Just lost in thought for a moment."

You nod, going back to watching him work, putting your head on his shoulder with the close proximity.

He freezes for a moment, completely caught off guard by your sudden closeness. He can feel the warmth of your body against his, and the scent of your hair filling his senses.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

He can feel your laughter vibrating through him, and it's a pleasant sensation.

"What's so funny, human?" he asks, playfully.

“Nothing, you've just….been on that page for a while. You can’t read can you? Tell me the truth.” You play around sarcastically.

He glances back down at the book, realizing that he's been staring at the same page for several minutes now, obviously at that.

He lets out a soft chuckle, embarrassed that he got so distracted by your presence once again, finding it to a troublesome, reoccurring issue.

"Ah, I guess I am a bit distracted," he admits, his gaze flickering back to you.

“No no it’s okay, lots of people can’t read you know. Don’t be embarrassed”, you continue with your nonsense joke.

You pretend to look around, your eyes going around left and right as he shakes his head.

He shuts the book, setting it aside and turning his full attention to you as he pushes it away.

He turns his body towards you.

"You're a distraction," he teases, poking your side gently.

“Hey!” You exclaim, “you invited me to sit here”, you digress, poking him back.

He chuckles and dips his finger in a small pool of ink, swiping it on your nose, making you backup a bit and give him more room for defense.

You gasp at the sudden cool touch of pigment- and run after him as he walks over quickly to the books nearby.

“This is not fair at all!” You exclaim, watching him dodge your attacks with ease.

“That seems like a personal issue, yes?” He says as he walks deeper into what seems like a maze of shelves.

As you get more and more competitive- you finally land a hit on him: a decently sized dab of ink landing on his cheek.

As it lands you run off- not wanting another hit of solvent somewhere on your face.

But of course…to your disadvantage, you can’t necessarily outrun a vampire.

Easily, he catches up to you- pinning you against the bookshelf. He stands over you, his body caging you in, as he holds up his finger- ready to mark you with another proof of failure.

"No escape now," he teases, his hand slowly and tauntingly smearing ink around your chin.

You roll your eyes and chuckle- the both of you breathless from the chase.

He can feel your small breathes mingle with his- noticing your chest pressed up against his.

He looks down at you, his eyes locking onto yours, and suddenly the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intense.

He rubs your bottom lip- except you don’t feel anymore ink rubbing into you, just the touch of his skin, his eyes glued to your supple lips as you look at his gaze.

“Alucard…?” You whisper softly.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes still glued to your flushed cheeks and the staggered breathe that escapes from your mouth.

“Hm?” He responds, finally flickering his eyes up to look at you.

“Yes dear?”

As your eyes lock, you feel a force that only pushes you to an immeasurable distance into him- and he responds immediately.

As if endless moments of pining finally meet its destiny- the kiss is tentative at first, a slow exploration of each other's mouths.

He takes his time, wanting to savor every moment of this, wanting to make sure that you're comfortable and enjoying it too.

Your arms wrap around each there- Alucards large frame pressing you into the bookcases behind you as his hands hold your sides- your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

He groans softly at your hands on him, your tongue meeting his in a heated dance. He's surprised by how easily you fall into rhythm with him, how well your bodies seem to fit together.

He revels in the sounds you're making, the way your body trembles against his. He descends his kisses to your cheek and then neck- feeling your pulse racing under his lips. He continues to kiss and nip at your neck, his fangs scraping gently against your skin as he moves down to your collarbone- the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin absolutely electric.

Your fingers grip slightly at his hair, running through them as he lavishes your shoulder with his sweet kisses.

Your body starts to arch into his touch. His hands on your sides tighten, holding you in place- his breath heavy as he starts to speak between kisses.

“Stop me…please, please stop me if you don’t want this…Stop me, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He pleads, kissing up to your ear as his other hand snakes up to hold the side of your neck, pulling his face to look at you again, his aureate eyes piercing into yours.

You let out deep breathes from your nose, swallowing the lumps in your throat as your half lidded eyes meet his, nodding just enough to assure him before diving back into his lips.

He groans again at the feeling of your lips, his grip on your thighs tightening. He presses his hips against yours, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jawline and to your neck once more. He can't resist the urge to mark you, his teeth meeting kisses and sucks at the sensitive flesh.

“Alucard-“ You interrupt.

He growls against your neck, his teeth almost sinking into your skin just enough to leave a mark

"Yes, my dear?" he murmurs, his voice low and yearnful.

“You….can drink, if you want to.” You go on softly, seeing his eyes flicker with an immediate importance.

He lets out a shaky breath, his control hanging by a thread. He can feel his fangs lengthening, his body practically vibrating with need as he gulps.

"You shouldn’t say such things to a dhampir," he growls, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your pulse point once more.

He can feel your heart racing, the scent of your blood is enough for him to go mad- the sound of your blood that pumps through your veins sounding like the perfect symphony.

"Last chance to change your mind, y/n.” He murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

You shake your head, holding his chin and tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I want to feel it…feel you.”

Your words cause his self-control to shatter. He can't hold back any longer, the need to taste your blood overpowering everything else, any sense of responsibility or moral compass gone- your declaration of want is all it takes.

He sinks his fangs into your neck, a deep moan rumbling in his chest as the taste of your blood hits his tongue. You feel the two long needles puncture your skin smoothly- the pain quickly subsiding as you feel his lips plant themselves on your skin and his breathe blows kisses over your skin over and over- his chest puffing out as he gets closer and more greedy.

You felt his hands clutching at your waist as if his fingerprints could weld onto your skin like iron.

The pain and pleasure mingled, creating a heady cocktail that clouded your senses.

The room spun around you, the world narrowing to the sensations of his fangs in your skin and the blood leaving you and nourishing him, his heart pounding in sync with your own.

You felt his hardened length, insistent, pressing against your thigh, a silent testament to the desire coursing through him while the taste of your blood intoxicates him- the taste like ambrosia, all while he can feel your body trembling against his, can hear the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips.

He can smell your arousal, the scent driving him wild with desire. He drinks deeply, his tongue lapping at the puncture wounds on your neck to encourage the flow of blood.

His grip on you almost bruising as he grinds against you-feeling himself losing control, his body acting on pure instinct as he takes what he needs from you, as if you were providing him with life force.

He finally pulls back, his fangs leaving your neck as he looks at you- your blood on his lips staining them as if he devoured a mound of cherries.

You smear the droplet across the corner of his lip- the red hue replacing what was once ink, pressing your lips onto his.

He moans into the kiss, his tongue tangling with

He carries you over to the nearest surface, which just so happens to be the desk you were just at. He sets you down on it, his body pressing against yours as he continues to kiss you hungrily and messily.

He chuckles against your lips, enjoying the way you groan as he pushes the books off the desk to make space for you. He lifts your hips slightly, grinding his hardness against you through the layers of fabric between you- growling in approval as you open your legs for him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he presses himself against you even more.

He nips at your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your chest as he begins to unbutton your shirt with deft fingers.

“May I?” He asks before completing removing it at your confirmation.

He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and leaving you exposed to him

"Gods, you're perfect," he murmurs, his hands moving to cup your breasts as he leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, your head tilting back as moans spills from your mouth- his tongue swirling around it before he gently nips at it with his teeth, the small remnants of your blood on his lips painting your chest in blotches.

His other hand moves to your other breast, his large hand almost completely covering it as he squeezes and kneads the soft flesh.

“Fuck-“ You groan, feeling his fingers tweaking at your sensitive buds while you feel him grinding even harder onto you his fingers trace patterns on your skin as he continues to worship your body.

Your fingers deftly unbutton his shirt, letting it fall open - his head perks back up to capture your lips once more.

Your hands trail down to his belt buckle.

He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your ear as he whispers

"Eager, are we?"

“Can you blame me…?”

"No," he murmurs. "Because I want you to be. I want you desperate and needy for me…burn for me, like I burn for you.” He groans against your ear, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and gripping your hips to toy with the hem of your skirt.

“Stay still”, he whispers, his voice much more playful now. “Let me check the rest of these wounds? Yes?” He mentions, slowly letting the tie of your skirt undo itself as he slides it down, humming in approval as you lift your hips for him.

His cold hands touch your bare skin and you almost flinch, but you welcome them.

“Draga mea…you’re stunning.” He groans, looking down to appreciate your skin under the moonlight seeping from the overhand windows of the library.

You feel the light seeping into your skin and more noticeably his hands becoming more

bold, more desperate, and daring. So are his kisses, descending down your neck to the valley of your breast, worshipping your skin as he kneels down to get on both knees while his face is met with your core- your cunt throbbing loud enough that his ears are sure to pick up on it.

He parts your thighs further, his hands gripping them tightly as he continues to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He's close enough now that you can feel his hot breath on your aching core, but he's deliberately avoiding touching you where you need it most.

“Alucard…please-“

He looks back up at you, cutting you off before you can beg.

“Adrian. I need you to call me that now.” He says, placing a kiss on your core through the fabric.

“Okay?” He adds, waiting for you to nod before he slips the fabric off and finally darts his tongue out to tease the sensitive skin just above your clit, smirking into your folds when he heard your breathe hitch.

He moves his tongue down slightly, tracing around your clit.

He can see how wet you are, your arousal dripping down, tasting it.

He starts to lap at your clit, his tongue swirling around it in tight circles before dipping down to tease your entrance as your moans spill out, hand tangles in the his hair, gripping his golden strands and making him groan into you, eyes darting up to meet yours- lost in the taste and scent of you, completely consumed by the desire to make you feel good.

You feel your hands gripping tighter, the heavy cinch in your abdomen ready to snap.

Minutes that felt like hours of him reverently pleasing you- you tremble and gasp.

He doubles down his efforts, his tongue and lips working even harder to push you over the edge. He can tell you're close, your body trembling and your breath coming in short gasps

“Adrian- I’m-!” You whine, your legs loosening their clasps around his face as you cum on his tongue.

He groans loudly as you cum, his tongue eagerly lapping up every drop of your release. He doesn't stop, continuing to lick and suck at your sensitive flesh even as you ride out your orgasm.

He finally pulls back, his face wet with your juices as he looks up at you. “You’re so beautiful when you cum. I want to make you do it over, and over.” He said, rising up to his feet- resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his breath

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his voice filled with raw emotion, lips brushing on your ear.

“What do I do to you?” You reply, pulling your head back to look up at him.

He gazes back down at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your innocent eyes. His hand cups your face, fingers tracing your supple face.

“You make me want things I never thought I could have. Things I don’t deserve." He admits, almost like confessing a sin to you, leaning in to kiss you again, pressing his lips against yours in a tender caress.

“I almost want to keep you here. Just for myself- look at how selfish you’ve made me, draga mea”. He speaks, a smooth accent painting his last words as he pecks kisses to your jaw, chuckling deeply as he feels your hands unbuckling his belt and letting it fall.

Both of your hands frantically pull at eachother- the innocent chuckles and soft kisses between the seconds it takes for him to undress and spread you apart- ready to give you the attention you need.

He positions himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. He looks into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and possessiveness

"Are you ready for me, love?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Are you ready to feel me inside you?"

“Yes- please, need more Adrian.” You plead.

He slowly pushes in, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate thrust.

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he watches your expression

"Relax for me, love," he murmurs, his hands stroking your thighs gently. "Let me in."

You nod, breathing in and out softly as he helps you and reassures you with soft words and gentle caresses.

“You’re doing so well, keep going for me. Breathe…Fuck- just like that.”

He can feel your body relaxing around him, allowing him to slide in further with each slow glide of his hips.

When he finally bottoms out, he feels your walls clenching down on him- making him bite down on his one lil til it bleeds.

The same blood hits your lips over and over on an tangle of kisses, his pace getting faster and more intense as he starts to lose himself inside you- his heart beating in sync with yours as he fucks you on the desk that starts to creak now.

“Fuck- it's so...” You groan, your stomach pooling with the same feeling just moments ago.

"So what, love?" he asks, his voice rough. "Tell me. Tell me how it feels. Tell me everything.”

You whine softly- felling each thrust hammer into you even deeper as he urges you to speak.

“So...fucking good...” You admit, wholeheartedly.

He shudders at your words, his cock twitching inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath hot against your skin

"My perfect little human," he groans, his hands roaming over your body- your walls tightening hearing him whisper to you.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" he whispers again, his voice low and seductive. "Being told how perfect you are? Hm?”

You can’t reply even if you wanted to- and you most urgently did. Only whines and moans escape your lips.

He chuckles, his smirk widening as he sees the effect his words have on you

"You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck. "So beautiful, so sweet. I wonder how many times I can make you cum tonight."

“So close- Adrian!”

He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your breathing ragged and uneven

“Come for me, darling” he whispers, his voice smooth and sickly sweetened. "I've got you. I'll take care of you."

You look up at him once more- your big pleading eyes grasping for a piece of his soul to gaze into.

Looking down at you again, his eyes meet yours. He's momentarily struck by the vulnerability and trust in your gaze, and it almost brings him to his knees completely.

"God, I love you," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion- almost as if he had no time to think before he spoke, as if it would change anything.

Your heart thumps, unable to tear your gaze away.

“A-Adrian-“ You moan out- his cock still pumping in and out of you and hitting every spot to make you cry out- ultimately making you spill all over him as you cum.

He lets out a shaky breathe feeling you release.

He’s never said those words out to anyone before, never dared to hope that he would ever feel this way at all.

He buries his face in your neck, his movements becoming more desperate as he clings to you, still going even as you’ve finished.

"Say it," he begs, his voice rough. "Please, say it. I need to hear it."

Your thighs twitch around his waist- overstimulated and sweaty, “love you…Adrian-! I love you…” You reply, clawing your nails at his back.

He groans into your neck, his own orgasm washing over him in a powerful wave.

"Oh, gods-" he gasps, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He holds you tightly, his body shaking, licking at the wounds he planted on your neck from earlier, wanting to taste the crimson of your being, just a little more.

As the blood draws, each drop hitting his senses, he knows he is binded tightly to a world he cannot live in without your presence. His Affliction.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[smartkookiee]

Vampire Boy || Ch.1 - jjk.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 𓆩♱𓆪 pairing: vampire!Jungkook x human!Reader (afab, she/her) 𓆩♱𓆪 content: 18+ explicit content, established relationship au 𓆩♱𓆪 chapter warning/tags: golden retriever vampire boyfriend jk, "27"jk 26 reader, vampire activities, blood drinking, fluff, some angst, SMUT, blood kink?? Oh they are so in love its disgusting, so much domesticity in this chapter, I love them I'm sobbing, VAMPIRE NEW YEARS, big gatsby like party, this party is crazy extravagant, like blood and money galore, little bit of gore this chapter (nothing serious), drinking, swearing, intoxication, crying, reader is a librarian, vampire history and vampire war, angsty moment for yoongi and monique, yoongi history, Jungkook really likes your blood, my own vampire rules??, Jungkook is so whipped, y/n is a little bit of a brat, they are soooo down bad for each other, vampire!Jimin, vampire!Jin, vampire!Hoseok, vampire!Yoongi, other vampire characters (the girlies) unprotected sex (Jungkook literally cannot get y/n pregnant), cream pie, fingering, dick riding, so much kissing, hickies (sort of), blood drinking during sex, god they cannot stay off each other like CHILL (lmao), discussion of feeding on animals and people, this chapter is LOOONNGGG but so fun and I loved writing it 𓆩♱𓆪word count: 23.8K 𓆩♱𓆪Series Masterlist𓆩♱𓆪 𓆩♱𓆪 Next Chapter𓆩♱𓆪 𓆩♱𓆪 PLAYLIST 𓆩♱𓆪 𓆩♱𓆪If you want to be added to the tag list comment on this post!! fic crossposted to ao3 𓆩♱𓆪a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO WAITED SO PATIENTLY FOR THIS. I HOPE THIS FIRST CHAPTER IS TO YOUR LIKING IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES NO YO DIDN'T<3 ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Fumbling with your keys, you tried to wedge them between your fingers, your pocketknife a reassuring weight in your other pocket. It was late, dark, and winter had a way of making everything eerily silent.

Tonight, you were in charge of closing the library. Your coworkers lived in opposite directions, leaving you to navigate the cold streets alone. Two routes lay before you: the long way, well-lit but littered with rowdy bar-goers and men who were a little too comfortable getting a little too close, or the shortcut through the dimly lit alley but was a straight shot to the other side. One was safer but full of potential annoyances; the other was just outright stupid.

Cold nipped at your exposed skin, and you shivered. You could already hear the noise from up the street and you didn’t have the energy to fight anyone off tonight. Nope. Not worth it tonight. You turned up the street and ducked into the alley, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself.

Quick and easy. No stopping. Don’t look at anything.

The sound of rain dripping from pipes and rooftops was all you could hear. It masked everything else, which, in hindsight, made it even worse because now you couldn’t hear what you were actively trying to keep an ear out for. Until—

Clang.

Could have been an animal but you knew better though. You could tell, someone was definitely behind you. As light on their feet as they were, you could pick out the steps they took. 

You reach into your pocket. Pulling out the knife. Slipping it open and gripping it tight in your hand. Not your best self defense weapon it works for a good scare. 

“All right let’s get this over with.” You mutter under your breath twisting around on your heel, the person was obscured, the darkness surrounding them. “Might as well show yourself.” 

The dark figure stepped out into the alleyway. Taking a wide stance, placing their hands on their hips. Superhero. You cocked an eyebrow before they spoke in a low rumbling tone, “I’m Batman.” 

Realization settled over you and all of your nerves faded away instantly. 

“Jungkook!” You whined. Folding your knife back up looking down and putting it back in your pocket. His presence appears next to you with a push of the wind around you. 

“Hi baby.” Jungkook snaked his arms around your waist pulling you into him. Kissing you on the cheek. Nudging his nose into your neck and breathing in deeply. Taking in all of your scent. “God you smell good.” 

This is Jungkook, your boyfriend, and evidently a vampire. 

“You know you scared the shit out of me?” You hit him in the shoulder, trying to shove him away but failing. His eyes were wide and his red irises dilated with intent. He had a shit eating grin plastered across his face as well as he pulled his face away from you. 

“I’m sorry. I seem to recall you promising me you wouldn’t cut through dark sketchy alleyways anymore.” He pouts but his tone was serious, you roll your eyes. You manage to pull yourself away and continue down the alley, Jungkook right on your tail. 

“I seem to recall you saying you wouldn’t check up on me like this after work.” You cross your arms over yourself preserving the warmth you had.

 “I was out and I was going to walk with you as a surprise! Then I saw you duck into the alleyway.” His hand looped through one of your arms and around your elbow, pulling it free from its fold. “This century has phones baby, I may be old but I know how it all works. Just call me next time you don’t feel safe.” 

You let out an annoyed sigh, knowing he’s right. “I know I know. It was stupid and I was just trying to make it back quick tonight. I know it was stupid.” 

“I just want you to get home in one piece please.” Jungkook whined, sliding his hand down to wrap his hand in yours. Cold fingertips enveloping your fingers. “I’m also not the only vampire in these parts”

“You’re all cold.” Holding his cold fingers between both of your paths to warm them up. You tease trying to lighten the mood and it seems to work some. A small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Mmm, well I have you now to warm me up.” Not that Jungkook could tell the difference but you definitely could. 

Vampires weren’t just ice cold like in the movies. Their temperature adapted to their surroundings like bottles of water. Fresh blood warmed them up, heaters helped, but they couldn’t actually feel the temperature. Jungkook made an effort to stay warm for you, though. You were hot blooded and having a boyfriend that stayed roughly 20 degrees colder, he tried to warm himself up just enough for you. 

Because of that, that’s how you noticed it; his fingers trembled slightly, which was definitely not a reaction to the cold air outside.

“You’re shaky.” You frowned, the quivering clear.

"...Just a little hungry." Jungkook shook his head, rolling his shoulders, as if he could shake off the craving, bury it beneath sheer willpower.

You frowned, your gaze flicking to his hands. "You get the shakes when you push it too far. You should go get something to eat. I’m sure there are some drunk guys back there you could snack on."

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. "It's fine. I'll eat when we get home."

But you knew better.

You knew the way his pupils dilated too wide the moment he saw you. How his gaze kept flickering to your throat, your wrist, anywhere he could hear it. Feel it. The steady, pulsing rhythm of your heartbeat drumming against his restraint.

Jungkook was careful, always careful. But hunger had a way of gnawing at even the most controlled instincts. You saw it in the way his jaw tensed, how his fingers flexed, how his breath stuttered just slightly every time you moved too close.

He was trying so hard to ignore it.

Trying not to listen to the blood rushing beneath your skin.

Trying not to stare.

“Just take some of mine tonight.” Your voice cut through the noise of your own blood. 

Jungkook perked up a little, eyes dilating further. “Really?” 

“Don’t get too excited, just a little bit. I still have to work tomorrow.” You smirked, dragging him along behind you.

Jungkook tilts his head, “You make it sound like I only see you as a blood bank or something.” He looks down to his feet and a pout on his lips. You stop his train of thought though and bring both of your hands to both of his cheeks.

“I’m teasing.” You rub his cheeks with your thumbs, the coldness seeping away with the warmth you present them. “Take what you need vampire boy. Are you going to sit here and act like you’re not excited about it?” 

He nods his head from side to side, chewing on his bottom lip. A hint of a fang peaking out. “Anything to do with you makes me excited.” 

“Don’t be gross.” You shove him again, but he doesn’t let you go. “Let’s get home and you can take what you need.” 

Jungkook hesitated but you had that determined look in your eyes. You weren’t going to let this go so easily, “Fine, but I’m having some other blood first!”

There was a certain giddiness in your steps now.“Oh I’m gonna sleep so good tonight.”

“That should not be the main reason to let me drink from you!” Jungkook protested and you dragged him along the streets swinging your connected hands. A small giggle falling from your lips.

You really didn’t mind when he drank off of you and you really did get the best sleep after since you would be literally drained. Jungkook never understood how you couldn’t really mind doing it but he didn’t find much he was surprised with you anymore. 

Your ability to just be so cool and casual about the vampire things sometimes still throws him off though. He also loved it that you were just so cool because a lot of people weren’t and have not been. You had a certain curiosity and willingness to learn. 

None of it scared you, it was actually cool to learn that vampires were real. Although you didn’t really initially believe it when Jungkook told you what he was. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Two and a half years ago.

Jungkook was extremely nervous. 

This was a conversation he had meant to have for a long time. A year, maybe longer. He always found reasons to delay it, to avoid it. It wasn’t going to be a problem telling you; he had gotten the go-ahead from everyone. Actually, he’d had it for over a year now, but their approval didn’t matter. What mattered was what came after he told you.

Were you going to freak out? Would you believe him? Would you be mad? 

A million different scenarios had run through his head all week about how this could go. The possibilities gnawed at him so deeply that he had unintentionally been avoiding you. Not responding to texts or calls as quickly. Avoiding hanging out or dates. It was entirely out of character. The longest the two of you had ever gone without seeing each other was five days, and that was only because of a vacation. Now, over a week had passed, and his silence was suffocating you.

You didn’t think anything was wrong but this sudden distance and silence from Jungkook was freaking you out. Had you done something or said something to make Jungkook mad? Did you do something that was upsetting? Was he just not feeling it anymore? You had broached the topic of moving in together recently and you wondered if that had made Jungkook uneasy.  Everything seemed fine up until now. Almost perfect even, then suddenly Jungkook had completely closed himself off. 

You were jumping to the worst conclusions, the biggest one, a break up. Which is what you had been emotionally preparing for. Jungkook was going to dump you and you would just have to deal with that. Easily, you could already feel this would be the biggest break up of your life. The both of you had already shared and done so much together, you couldn’t imagine giving yourself to someone else the same way. 

That’s when Jungkook said he wanted to come over tonight to talk about something, you were doing everything in your power to keep yourself composed. You had been shaking and anxious since you got the text. 

Even worse when you get the knock on the door. 

With your hands still shaking and your heart pounding in your ears. You twist the knob and pull the door open, Jungkook standing with a soft smile on his face standing in front of you. The smile disarming you slightly. 

“Hi.” You said, forcing a smile back as you tried to hide the storm brewing inside you.

“Hi baby.” Jungkook hesitates a step forward, but can sense some unease coming from you. “Can I come in?” 

You hadn’t realized that you hadn’t opened the door enough that he could enter. You clear your throat, “Yes… obviously.” You open the door and step to the side so he can come in. The pet name was a good sign but you are still on edge. 

As he walked in, the silence in your studio apartment felt deafening. Every creak of the floorboards, every breath you took, seemed to echo. You closed the door, the sound reverberating through the small space, amplifying the tension. Jungkook paused in the middle of the room, uncharacteristically quiet, his steps heavy with unspoken words.

You moved around him, trying to read his face. He looked tired and conflicted, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He avoided your gaze. With your anxiety spiking, you retreated to the bed, the only real place to sit in your tiny space. Perched on the edge, you gripped the blanket beneath you like a lifeline.

“You wanted to talk?” Your voice was a little hoarse. Feeling like your entire body was about to start shaking. 

Jungkook nodded, his fingers fidgeting as if searching for something to anchor him. “I… I don’t really know how to say this.” He began, pacing back and forth. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and now that I’m here, I… I don’t know how.”

The growing sense of dread in your chest felt unbearable. You couldn’t take it anymore. “If…” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. “If you’re just going to dump me, please don’t drag it out. Just say it.”

Jungkook's eyes widened for a moment, “What?” 

You look at him, seeing the visible confusion on his face. “That’s what this is right? You wanted to talk… and that typically means you want to end things.” 

“Y/N.” Jungkook starts but with a wave of your hand you cut him off. 

“No, it’s okay. If that’s what this is, it's fine, just please don’t make me wait to hear it.” You hadn’t realised but you were digging your fingers into your mattress now. So hard your knuckles had gone white.

Jungkook paused for a second before he laughed, tilting his head. Eyes sympathetic.  “Oh baby.” He comes over and kneels on the ground in front of you. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” You whine, his smile felt almost mocking now. 

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m not breaking up with you.” Jungkook sighs, he reaches and takes your hands in yours. Lacing your fingers together, “I love you, I don’t want to break up.” 

You stay silent, his face has returned to its familiar soft nature versus the stressed one a moment ago. He wasn’t lying. “What?” 

“We aren’t breaking up.” Jungkook kisses both of your hands, soothingly. Holding them close. Watching your face morph from concern to relaxation as his words settle in. “Why would you think that?”

You let out a heavy sigh you didn’t realize you were holding in, “Oh… is asked about moving in. I thought I had freaked you out or something and you were going to bolt.” 

Jungkook laughed some more, just a quiet laugh under his breath. “You really think asking me to move in together freaked me out? We basically live together already.” 

Your mouth falls into a pout, “I don’t know! You were all quiet and weird! I didn’t see you at all this week and you were barely talking to me!” You lay back on your bed, covering your face with your hands. Maybe you did jump to too many conclusions, but all the behavior this week was weird. 

Jungkook gets to his feets but lays down next to you on your bed. “I do have something to tell you and it is serious. I just didn’t know how I wanted to tell you yet so I didn’t want to talk to you until I figured out how I wanted to do it.” He rested his hand on your stomach, wanting to pull you closer but letting you stay where you were. 

You peak between your fingers to look at him. Jungkook's eyes are full of love only for you and no malicious intent behind them. “Is it going to give me a heart attack? Like the one you almost just gave me?” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “Might be confusing but hopefully no heart attack.” 

“Well tell me. I can handle basically any news now.” You both sit back up on your bed. You pull your legs under you so your legs are crossed together. 

Jungkook paused. Now he really had to face the music. You could tell whatever it was really was serious and probably wasn’t going to be easy. He just needed to do it. He just needed to rip the bandaid off and say it. Get it off his chest. There was no easy way, and he would spend a lifetime explaining if he needed to. 

“Okay.” He stayed quiet for a moment, “I-... shit this is hard.” 

You watched as he figured this out in his mind. You could tell he was really jumping through hoops. You, trying to break the tension, say, “You’re not pregnant right? I’m not ready to be a dad.”

You laugh at your own joke but Jungkook just rolls his eyes with a smile. Knowing you aren’t serious and just trying to make this easier. Jungkook continues, “This is serious!”

“Sorry. Take your time. You know you can tell me anything.” You say with sincerity, reaching a hand to rub his arm. 

“I know.” He nodded, “Everything… will be different. Everything will change.” 

“Okay, now you are really making me nervous.” You shift uncomfortably on the bed, you really hoped something wasn’t wrong. Like he was sick or something.

He looks between your eyes for a moment, the whole nature of the relationship you two had may just crumble in a moment. Everything that you knew would suddenly be unknown. That terrified him. He couldn’t predict what would happen next. He can say everything perfect and could be just right and still not know what you would say next. 

Just say it.

“I’m… I’m a vampire.” Jungkook whispers.

Your eyebrows knit together not fully hearing him, “What?”

Jungkook takes in a long long deep breath, meeting your eyes. “I’m a vampire.”

Silence fell over the room. Neither of you said a thing, you were just staring between Jungkook's eyes. Trying to find a lie. Trying to find a reason? Because this surely had to be a joke. He had to be joking. 

“Honey.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee for a moment. You reflexively pull it back. 

“Wow.” You say, a small shake to your head. A certain mistiness to your eyes. “I’ve heard a lot of excuses but this really takes the cake.” You stand up from the bed back facing to Jungkook. His face contorted into concern watching you. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Jungkook moves so he’s sitting on the side of the bed now. 

You turn around, clear hurt in your eyes. “You know it actually would have been kinder to just dump me versus saying something insane to get me to dump you. If that’s what you want then—”

Jungkook stands for a moment, pausing your train of thought. “I’m-I’m not lying though.” 

“Yeah, right. I’m a vampire. That’s rich.” You start laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Trying to overwhelm the pain forming in your chest. 

“Have I ever given you a reason to think I’m lying? Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me?” Jungkook steps toward you and you stand your ground. You don’t answer him but just shake your head. You looked angry and so he was thinking of anything he could do. “Why would I suddenly make up a wild story to get you to break up with me?” 

You let out a noise of annoyance,“Because you wanted an easy way out, I don’t know!” A small huff trailing behind your words. 

Jungkook places both of his hands on your shoulders, “Y/N this is real. I’m telling you the truth. I love you, I would never lie to you about something like this. I am… a vampire. I’m not trying to make an excuse, this is real.” His grip was tight on you, tighter than you had ever felt before. Unnaturally so.

Nothing in the way he was speaking seemed like a lie. No malice or farce, which was the part that was confusing you the most. It was completely sincere. As far as you had known he had never lied to you. That little voice of self preservation was still ringing in your mind though, telling you to get out. To run. “If… Well… Then… Then prove it.” 

“What?”

“If you’re a vampire then there are surely ways to prove it… So prove it.” You look into his eyes now. If he had any chance of saving this it was now, he had to show you everything or else you would be done. Which he was more than ready to do.

Jungkook’s mouth did move but you very distinctly heard him say, Okay. Like an echo inside your mind you almost couldn’t convince yourself he hadn’t just said it.

He brought his hands up to his eyes, pinching something, contacts. He took them from both eyes, pulling out a contact lens case from a pocket and placing them back in respectively. Jungkook lifted his head again to reveal not the dark brown ones you were so used to but ones that were a deep crimson. Could almost look brown in certain lights, but they were definitely red. Then Jungkook opened his mouth and you watched as two sets of fangs detracted down over where his k9’s were. Two long and what you could only imagine were incredibly sharp fangs.

Jungkook just took in your reaction, you blinked a few times standing in silence. No change in expression to show what you were thinking or feeling. The sweet boy you had come to know and love had transformed in front of your eyes. Although his new features seemed to initiate a fight or flight response in you, Jungkook could sense it. He tried to reach out to you but you flinched, just enough for him to notice. 

He wanted desperately to bring you closer, but he needed to let you take it all in.

“I know. It’s… a lot. I just couldn’t keep it a secret anymore—” 

“This is so cool!” Your face morphed into a look of complete fascination. Voice shooting up and octave. Your sudden change in demeanor threw Jungkook off, you took quick steps toward him and suddenly you were pushing him to sit on the bed again. You fingers swiftly move into his mouth holding his lips up away from his gums, inspecting his teeth. 

Jungkook sat dumbfounded and eyes wide for a moment, he wasn’t prepared nor expecting this kind of outburst. You were gripping onto each side of his head, Moving it from side to side so you could get a good look at them. They were pretty big and seemed to just come out of nowhere from the roof of his mouth. Completely replaced where his regular teeth were. They were pretty and almost seemed to fit him more naturally than his regular teeth. Your thumbs were still pulling at his lips revealing his gums, viewing where the fangs hide. 

“So these just retract and detract? Do you do it on command? Does it hurt?” You say as your lean your eyes close into his mouth viewing the anatomy. Jungkook stifled a laugh because he wasn’t really able to get words out with your thumbs in his mouth. You traced one of them with your thumbs, but accidentally pricked yourself on the end of it. “Okay, sharper than I thought.” 

The smell of your blood being so close to Jungkook's nose made his pupils dilate instantly, you watched it happen but Jungkook kept himself still. It was always a natural reaction to blood. 

“Careful.” Jungkook pushed your hands away while holding your wrists in his hands. “They hide up inside of my skull and I can do it on command. It doesn’t hurt anymore though.” 

“Show me again.” You smile, a small hint of anticipation lacing your voice. “Please?” 

Jungkook nods, opening his mouth. He releases one of your hands so you can push back his lip again with your thumb. As Jungkook pushes his fangs in and out of their place and you can visibly see how they move up and down. You were completely mesmerized by the action. Just watching his fangs seems to take their rightful place in his mouth. It was so weird to watch but also extremely fascinating. You let his lip go at a certain point once your curiosity had been satisfied. Jungkook traced the inside of his lips with his tongue to comfort the muscle that had been forced back.

You found your fascination had moved from his teeth back to his eyes. “You wore color contacts this whole time?” Your hands found their way to his cheeks, looking between his eyes. Tracing, with your eyes, the new unfamiliar color that lined them. These were his real eyes. 

“Can’t exactly walk around with red eyes without some suspicion or stares.” Jungkook smiled, he could relax again, placing his hands on the side of your body as you just observed him. No, inspected him, like you were in a lab. He didn’t mind, you could ask him anything and he will tell you whatever you want. 

You were still stuck on his eyes. They were such a dark red, velvety. They suited him well. The same ones you had looked at so many times but now you were actually seeing them. “They’re beautiful.” 

“Really?” His heart felt like it skipped a beat in his chest, your first complement of his true appearance.

“I love them. They’re… I don’t even have the words. They’re… you. This is you.” Because this is the first time you really were seeing him, seeing him for everything. You thought you knew him before but it was all complete now. 

“This is me.” Jungkook whispered, a weight finally being taken away from him. No more hiding. 

You just stand there quietly staring at him, imprinting this moment in your memory. Taking in every detail. But you couldn’t help but have a million different things also running through your mind. A million different questions and a million thoughts about what this means now. 

Jungkook could see you running through every question in your mind, just waiting for you to ask. He had nothing in his head though, nothing he wanted to think about. You were here, and you weren’t mad. You were here and you were excited. You were still here and you weren’t sending him away. 

“I have just… so many things I want to ask.” You rock a little bit on your feet. Anticipation eating you from the inside out. 

“Ask anything. I’ll tell you whatever you want.” Jungkook jumped on the end of your sentence, eager, insistent. He wanted to give you every answer. He would give you everything.

“Well… uhh… I don’t know. Um.” Your mind flipped through every vampire story you had ever heard, sifting through myths and legends, trying to figure out where to start. “Okay. Speed? Strength? Is that real, or just a fairy tale?”

“That’s all real.” Jungkook said without hesitation. “I’ve actually been faking straining when I pick up heavy things for you. It doesn’t feel like anything.” He shrugged, as if admitting to a harmless prank.

“Really? Show me!” Excitement bubbled up in your chest, making you bounce slightly on your heels.

Jungkook grinned, standing from the bed with a casual ease. He turned, scanning your apartment, his sharp gaze flicking over every object. His eyes landed on your massive wooden dresser. The one that had nearly killed you when you first moved in, requiring the help of two friends and a ridiculous amount of cursing just to get it through the door.

Without hesitation, Jungkook strode toward it. He crouched slightly, slipping both hands beneath the base, but there was no visible effort. No tensed muscles, no grunt of exertion; just an easy, almost lazy movement as he lifted it clean off the floor. The dresser, heavy enough to crush a human, might as well have been a stack of pillows in his grip.

“See?” He turned his head toward you, lifting it up and down a few times as if he were curling a dumbbell at the gym. He even tossed it lightly into the air, barely an inch, just enough to make your stomach lurch with the thought of it crashing down, before catching it again.

Your mouth fell open.

"Holy shit.”

Jungkook grinned and set the dresser back in place with an almost exaggerated gentleness, as if it were made of glass. His hands lingered on it for a moment before he turned back to you, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“This is so cool! I never have to lift anything ever again.” You said, your mind still struggling to process what you had just seen. “I’ll just have you do it.”

“Oh yeah?” He was suddenly in front of you, closing the space in an instant, his presence comforting despite what you thought vampires were supposed to be. “Am I your pack mule now?”

“Only for the really heavy stuff.” You teased, tilting your head up at him.

Jungkook chuckled, his fangs barely flashing as his smile grew. Then his hands came up, cupping your face with a gentleness that contradicted the sheer, terrifying strength you had just witnessed. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, grounding you in the moment.

“Ask me more.” He said, his voice softer now. “Please. I want to answer all of your questions. No matter how long it takes.” 

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

“This is just so insane. You really are… a vampire.” The words left your lips like an exhale, the weight of them heavy in the air.

Jungkook just smiled, his hands never leaving your face. “Yeah,” He murmured. “and you’re not scared.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation, one that made something deep inside you shift.

Because he was right. You weren’t scared. You were fascinated.

“For how long?” You asked, studying him carefully. “Are you actually twenty-seven?”

Jungkook’s lips pressed together for a moment. Then he shook his head, his eyes briefly flicking away before he forced himself to meet your gaze again. “I’m… much older.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. “How much older?”

“Five hundred and twenty-three.”

Silence.

Your mouth parted slightly, your mind struggling to wrap itself around the number. Five hundred. And twenty-three. Your eyes widened as the realization fully sank in, and before you could stop yourself, a small, disbelieving laugh bubbled out of you. You clapped your hands over your mouth.

“Oh my god.” Another breathy laugh. “You’re so old!”

Jungkook’s expression immediately twisted into one of betrayal, his brows knitting together. “Hey!”

You dropped your hands, grinning at his wounded look. “Cradle robber.”

“Stop.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t realize I was dating a man with both feet literally in the grave!”

“Y/N!” Jungkook groaned, his head dropping forward in exaggerated defeat. He pouted, lips forming the perfect shape of a complaint. You giggled, the sound light and unbothered, before reaching up to pull his face closer. You pressed small, playful kisses along his jaw, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose. Each one chasing away the wounded puppy look on his face. Replaced with a crooked smile. 

“I just needed to get it out! I promise it’s fine!” You laugh some more to Jungkook's dismay, but you settle for a moment and another thought creeps in. “Is that strange? You’ve seen the world change so many times.” You rub your hands up and down his arms in a soothing motion.

Jungkook’s hands found your waist, his thumbs brushing absentmindedly along your sides. “It’s funny… it’s just normal now.” His voice softened, more thoughtful. “I think I’ve liked this century the best so far. I miss certain things about the past, but I also don’t.” His dark eyes searched yours, as if debating whether to say more. “It’s exciting to see what will become of humans.”

A strange, quiet feeling settled over you. You couldn’t even begin to imagine it. Seeing wars begin and end. Cities rise and fall. Watching humanity evolve and adapt, century after century, while you remained unchanged.

You swallowed. “Are you the only one?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “No.”

You leaned in a little, your fingers tightening slightly on his arms. “How many are there?”

“In the world?” He tilted his head, considering the scope of your question.

“Sure.” You shrugged, though that wasn’t exactly what you meant.

He exhaled, brows furrowing as he thought. “Uhhh, maybe a few thousand? Not an exact number, but there are more than you’d think.”

“Huh. Anyone we know?” You narrow your eyes, already suspecting the answer. There’s no way Jungkook is the only one in your friend group.

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Yes.”

“Who?” You demand, your voice rising slightly.

“Jimin… and Jin… and Hobi.” Jungkook starts, then hesitates again, as if debating whether to continue.

“I knew it!” You leap to your feet, nearly toppling over in your excitement. Jungkook reaches out to steady you, his hands firm on your arms as you wobble on the uneven mattress. “The first time I met Jin, I was like, ‘If there’s anyone in this world who’s a vampire, it’s that guy!’”

Jungkook chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think he told me about that.”

Your enthusiasm falters for a moment. “Wait, told you? I don’t think I told anyone that.”

“Yeah… He read your thoughts.”

“What!” You exclaim, your voice jumping an octave.

“Yeah… we can read thoughts.” Jungkook admits, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Oh my god.” You collapse back onto the bed, your hands covering your face. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Why?” Jungkook leans over you, his face hovering above yours, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

You sit up on your elbows, glaring at him. “I’ve… not exactly had the purest thoughts about you… in the presence of our friends…” Jungkook lets his head drop with a laugh, his shoulders shaking. You groan and push him away with your foot against his chest. “This is mortifying! If any of them read my thoughts, they know what a freak I am!”

“I don’t think they need to read your thoughts to know that.” Jungkook teases, dodging your half-hearted kick.

“Jungkook!” You shout, grabbing a pillow from on your bed, throwing it at him.

“What!” He laughs, catching the pillow effortlessly. Then let it fall to the floor. 

“This is the worst part about all of this!” You wail, flopping back onto the bed. Your melodrama filling the room but it seems to not phase Jungkook whatsoever.

“No one cares!” He reassures you, sitting down beside you.

“I do!” You insist, covering your face again.

“If anyone would care, it might be Monique.” Jungkook adds casually, as if he wasn’t dropping another bombshell.

“What?” You bolt upright again, your eyes wide.

“Yeah… uhh, that was the other thing. Monique is a vampire too.”

“What?”

“Oh and your friend Rehna… also a vampire. Young but she’s one too.” 

“I think this may literally be too much information.” You mutter, staring aimlessly up at your ceiling. Your voice quieter now. “So has everyone just been laughing at me for not knowing?” 

“Not at all.” Jungkook says quickly, his tone soft. He lays down next to you and reaches an arm over you, pulling you into him. “They all love you. It’s just in our nature to hide what we are. It doesn’t always go well when humans find out.”

“Am I going to get in trouble for knowing?” You ask, turning your head to face him. A sudden worry creeping into your voice.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowns.

“Well, okay, not to reference movie vampires, but typically there are rules for telling humans. You either have to turn me, or kill me, or something. I don’t know.”

Jungkook blinked. Then, to your surprise, he laughed—a soft, rich sound that made the knot in your chest loosen just a little. He shook his head, “No. There are no rules or laws for what we do or who we tell. We have traditions, but no laws.”

“Okay, so I’m not going to get hunted down by, like, a vampire government now?” you ask, only half-joking.

“No. Maybe by other vampires, but that’s for food. You probably stink like me anyways, so no one will touch you.” Jungkook said it so casual as if he didn’t need to explain what that meant.

“I stink?” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, glaring at him.

“It’s more like a scent.” Jungkook explains, his voice softening. “Vampires have their own, and humans have their own.”

“Do I smell bad?” You ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Not at all.” Jungkook says, his voice dropping to a low. “To me, you smell amazing.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down and you shove his shoulder away from you in annoyance.

“Is that because I’m food? Technically?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes and no.” He admits. Rolling back your direction. “I’m in love with you, so I always want to be around you and near you. You also have the same blood type I did when I was human, so that draws me to you.”

“Well, at least I don’t smell bad.” You mutter, crossing your arms.

“Well, Hobi thinks you smell bad.” Jungkook adds with a grin. “You have his least favorite blood type.”

“Oh, well, that’s just great.” You reply dryly.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Jungkook reassures you. “It just means he’s less likely to snack on you.”

“Okay, wait.” You say, holding up a hand. “So you can smell blood, read minds, and have super strength and speed. Do you guys have other powers?”

“That’s where the differences start to come in.” Jungkook explains. “Every vampire has different skills beyond those. Some develop early, some with age and time, and some with practice.”

“What’s yours?” You ask, intrigued. He had to have something and you knew it had to be good.

“Mine is… sort of similar to a siren.” He says, his voice taking on a mysterious edge.

“Are sirens real too?” You press, leaning a bit too close, “Not the point, continue.” 

“I have to sing for it to work.” Jungkook hesitates for a moment but then explains. “It sort of casts a spell on the person I’m targeting. It’s mostly for luring in easy prey, but I can use it for other reasons too—alter memories, issue commands, or access knowledge about the person and their body. The person never remembers they’ve been affected by it afterward.”

You pause, a thought occurring to you. “Have you ever used it on me?”

Jungkook nods, his expression turning serious and he chewed on his lips for a moment.. “...Just once. It was on that trip we took months ago. I had to bring food for myself, and it was more than usual. More than would be easy to hide or explain. So I… used it to alter your memory of the food. Instead of blood bags, you remember regular food.”

You paused realizing the weight of what he was just telling you. Although a small occurrence, he had to alter a part of your memories. You think back on it and try to see if maybe you did remember anything different, the only other thing you really remember from that trip is Jungkook getting extreme food poisoning. 

“I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.” Jungkook continues, his voice tinged with guilt. “I wanted to stay… us a little longer because I was so afraid of how it would change things. I got so sick the night I did it because I felt so guilty. I promised when we started dating I would never use any of my powers on you…”

“How come?” You ask softly.

“Because… I knew whatever this was, it was… I don’t know. What we have is good… and is like one of the only good things I’ve found in a long time.” He says, his eyes locking onto yours. “I wanted it all to be real—no powers, no manipulation. Just me… and just you. No tricks.”

You both sit in silence looking at each other, before you completely breeze by his small moment of vulnerability. “You said you had food poisoning.” You recall, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It felt like it at the time.” Jungkook nods, thinking back on it. He really did get sick to his stomach. The guilt ade bringing all that blood almost a complete waste. “I felt so guilty because I never want to hide things from you. Ever.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that.” You say, reaching out to take his hand.

“No, you don’t need to apologize.” He squeezes your hand gently. “I just wish I’d told you sooner. If I’d known it would go this well, I probably would have told you in the first month.”

“I might have been scared in the first month.” You admit with a small laugh. “Might have run away out of self preservation.” 

“That’s why I waited.” He says, smiling softly. “But then I kept waiting and waiting for the right moment and I got more anxious.”

“Well… now I know.” You say, laying on your side next to him again. Your faces so close together, 

“Now you know.” He echoes, wrapping an arm around you.

“How do you eat? What do you eat? Human? Animal?” You ask after a moment, your curiosity resurfacing.

“Human blood and animal blood. Animal blood more often.” He explains. “Lots of vampires work at blood banks.”

“Wow, shocker.” you say dryly. “Vampires working with blood? Insane.”

“I know, news of the millennia.” Jungkook replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm as you both burst into laughter.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Present Day 

That felt like an entire lifetime ago now. 

Since then, you’d learned practically everything there was to know about vampires—the myths, the truths, the strange little quirks no one ever talked about. The things that were never written in books, never whispered in horror stories. Jungkook had been an open book from the moment he told you. Just the truth, plain and simple, dropped into conversation like he was telling you his favorite color.

At first, it had been surreal. The idea that vampires weren’t just creatures of fiction but real, living. Well, undead, beings who walked among humans undetected. That the man you had been falling in love with had walked through centuries, watched history unfold firsthand. It made your head spin. But never scary. Jungkook was still Jungkook. He still left wet towels on the bathroom floor. He still made the world’s worst coffee. He still held your hand in crowded places and kissed your forehead when you were too tired to function.

The only big difference in your relationship was that you couldn’t really eat together. For obvious reasons. 

Also the sun thing, not a huge problem like people think. They can be in the sun but if they don’t eat the same day they will die. They can be out longer the older they get. They don’t immediately disengage though.

You had barely scratched the surface even after all this time. 

After too long in the cold, the two of you finally reached your apartment. The moment you stepped onto your floor, you spotted something taped to the front door. Your name and Jungkook’s were written in elegant, swirling calligraphy, the gold ink shimmering under the hallway light.

“Already that time of year.” You plucked the envelope from the door, holding it up as Jungkook unlocked it.

He barely glanced at it before sighing. “We should ditch.”

You snorted. “Oh, I’m sure that’ll go over great. Centuries of tradition thrown out the window.”

“We could start our own tradition.” He offered, wiggling his eyebrows as he pushed the door open.

You shook your head, already slipping inside. “And when Jimin hunts us down and drags us there himself, then what?”

Jungkook grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, We run faster. More like he’ll run faster.

You ignored him, already peeling the envelope open. The paper was thick and luxurious—the kind that felt expensive—and it smelled faintly of pine, because of course Jimin thought of every last detail. The invitation itself was beautiful, decorated with intricate gold and green accents, the lettering impossibly flawless. Jimin never just sent invitations. He crafted them, turning them into little works of art.

Jimin’s Annual New Vampire Soirée.

The famed New Years party. 

You shrugged off your jacket, letting the day slip away with it, and—without needing to ask—Jungkook took it from you, hanging it neatly in the small coat closet by the door.

“I’ve attended just about every single one of these things.” He groaned, toeing off his shoes and trailing behind you. “I think he can live without us for one year.”

By every single one, he meant a few hundred.

“Oh, come on.” You teased, skimming the details. “It’s the only time we get to really dress up. I like you in a suit.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “That’s your main selling point?”

“Duh.” You smirk, it also gives you an excuse to wear something nice which is rare these days. “Because then I get to take it off after. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.” 

Jungkook sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Fine. But if Jimin ropes me into another game of charades, I’m taking you down with me.”

“Deal.”

You both round your way to the kitchen. Your place together was very nice, mostly funded by Jungkook. You had two bedrooms that stretched up a hallway, one for the two of you and one for a small office the two of you curated. A large and beautiful kitchen that is really only used by you. In a high building with beautiful views. 

You pull out a stool at the island. Jungkook pulling out a few bags of blood. They were donation bags like you would see at a blood drive. Which means he had elected to have human blood tonight vs animal. Jungkook didn’t really mind eating in front of you anymore. The first few weeks you two lived together you couldn’t stomach it, but now it was normal. 

You’d asked him before what it was like. Vampires could still eat real food but it doesn’t fill them up or provide the same benefits it does for humans. They need blood or they won’t survive. It’s food, like anything you eat. They have cravings for it and some taste better than others. Sometimes they needed it more often and sometimes they could go without it. Jungkook had recently been trying to go longer and longer without it but it had been proving difficult. He could usually feed once a week and be okay, but he’s been trying to push for two weeks. 

Who would have thought that having a human partner would make that difficult? 

Jungkook opened one of the pouches and he just sucked on the dispensing tube like it was a fruit pouch of some kind. The way he reacted made him act like it was delicious, you were always curious but knew it would not have the same effect for you. Would probably be gross or your body would naturally make you throw it up. Still, your curiosity always lingered. 

Jungkook noticed you staring at him out of the corner of his vision as he was looking at his phone and eating his meal. “You’re next, be patient.” He teased. 

“That’s not!… that’s not why I was staring at you. Can’t I just look at my boyfriend?” You cross your arms, putting up your fake defenses. 

“Always. You just look like you want to ask me something.” He turns his focus to you, still drink from the pouch. 

You pause for a moment, “What was it like the first time…?” 

“Eating?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever asked.” You lean on your elbows on the counter. 

It’s been quite some time but Jungkook does remember it. “It was warm… but sweet. Like candy but if the sugar high hit instantly. It was like I was taking my first breath.” 

“Was it weird?” 

“No… Strangely. It felt completely normal. Weird as it sounds. It was like my mind had completely rewired itself away from regular food. Blood was all I needed.” Jungkook shrugged, it really was night and day. One day he wanted human food and the next he couldn’t care less about it. 

“You weren’t afraid of it?” 

Jungkook nodded, “Of course… but unfortunately because of our nature you have to move past it quickly… You had to kill to eat. We didn’t have the convenience of having blood banks so we didn’t have to kill.” 

“I didn’t think about that… no preservation.” 

Jungkook eyed you for a moment. “What? Thinking about trying it?” He waved the pouch in your direction, the blood sloshing around in the bag making your stomach turn.

“Well most of the time you make it look good, so my mind wanders. I know it’ll be shit for me.” You rest your chin on one of your palms. Jungkook finished off one of the pouches. Teeth stained red and his pupils were no longer dilated like before. Which was the usual once his hunger had been satisfied.

Jungkook smiles, swiping his bottom lip to catch a drop of blood. He starts on the second one, drinking this one much faster than the first. You can tell he doesn’t like it very much from the face he makes. He rounds his way around the counter, to you. Behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he drank. One of his arms snaking around you. Your back pressed into his chest. 

Although the packs were cold, Jungkook’s body heats up just a little bit when eating. Making him almost feel human. 

“Bad?” You ask as he sets down the second pack on the counter. His tongue poked out his cheeks as he wiped his teeth clean of the bitter taste. 

“Just bitter. Not great.” Jungkook’s sighs wrapping his other arm around you now. His nose is buried into your neck now. 

“You know where I know there will be really good blood?” You muse and Jungkook just rolls his eyes. “Jimin’s party.” 

“I’d still rather spend my time with you.” He places a kiss right on your jaw where your neck meets. “Alone.” 

“Hmm maybe next time.” You rest the side of your head against his. You both rocked from side to side slightly. “Plus you get to have me all the time.” 

“I know I know.” He places another kiss further down your neck. His grip is tightening around you. 

Jungkook was barely listening though, your steady heartbeat was pounding in his ear. Yes he had quenched his thirst quite a bit but he still needed yours. The fact that you had his same blood type made it incredibly difficult to resist on days when he was especially hungry because your blood is all he would want. If only he could feed off of you whenever he wanted and it wouldn't kill you quickly. Still, he could hear the pulsing vein in your neck calling out for him. He was usually pretty good about blocking out this kind of thing around you but tonight was especially difficult.  

“Just do it.” You whisper, you can feel him getting anxious and a little twitchy. You knew he wanted to eat. “Go ahead.” 

Jungkook shakes his head, “Not yet.” 

“Jungkook, you and I both know you haven’t eaten enough.” You pull out of his grip and twist around in your seat to look at him. “Free meal might as well be written on my forehead.” 

“Better not be. I’m the only one allowed to eat from you.” He smiled, both of his hands running up and down your thighs now. 

Before you could get a word in, his lips were on yours. One of his hands coming up to cup your jaw. The kiss has a certain intensity to it and you match Jungkook’s energy in kind. His tongue sliding into your mouth and your taste buds being met with a iron like flavor. A little off putting at first but you push past it. It wasn’t the first time you had tasted the aftermath of a feeding before. 

When you were first dating Jungkook would wash his mouth out pretty good before he would see you so that it wouldn’t happen. Not exactly easy to explain why he tastes like his mouth was bleeding when making out. 

Your hands found their way to the bottom of his shirt and your hands glided up his abdomen. Warm hands meeting cold skin. Your legs widen to let him stand between them. You were leaning back against the counter, the corner digging into your back some but you didn’t mind. Jungkook’s hand on your jaw moves it’s way to the back of your neck and into your hair. He gives it a light tug which elicits a small sound from you. A small whine which is exactly what he wanted 

You break away from him for a second, breathless. “Jungkook… You have to eat.”

Jungkook kisses you again, a little sloppier this time. Before pulling back, “Not yet my love.” He mumbles against your skin kissing his way down your throat, his other hand tracing the inside of your thigh.

You sigh in content leaning into him, “Y-You get a little intense when you’re like this though.”

 Jungkook pulls back away from you, kissing you again. Soft and sweet. Before breaking away. “I’m alright. I just missed you so I want to have my way with you now.” 

“Oh is that right?” You tilt your head to the side, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “You know you see me everyday?” 

“It’s not enough.” Jungkook whispers, and kisses you again. 

You bring your hands up to either side of his cheeks and drink him in. “You’re cheesy.” You mumble against his lips. 

Jungkook brings both of his hands down and tucks them underneath you to lift you from the stool. The sudden motion makes you yelp. “You love it.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You say nonchalantly like you were trying to play it off. Jungkook just rolls his eyes, keeping a tight grip on you. 

Before you could think, your body was pressed into Jungkook's. As the kitchen and hall blurred past your vision as if you were in a car. Jungkook ran the both of you into your bedroom. Your hair instantaneously a mess around your face.

“Jungkook!” You whined, he let you fall from his grip onto the bed. You immediately smoothed your hair away from your face. “I hate when you do that.” 

Jungkook is standing at the end of your bed, pulling his shirt over the top of his head. “I have a few ways I can make it up to you.” 

“I hope so.” You bite down on your bottom lip but a huge smile still on your face. Jungkook couldn’t help but find you absolutely intoxicating. 

Jungkook kneels in front of the bed, “God you’re beautiful.”

His hands climbed their way up your thighs and under your shirt to help lift it over your head in a swift motion. Discarding it to the floor. Your hands come down to unbutton your pants and Jungook slides them off of your legs. Jungkook with ease, pulling your hips to the end of the bed. Although to Jungkook it felt like nothing. Anytime he moved you you could tell the strength he held. It was clear that he was intentionally holding back. 

Jungkook’s face came down between your legs, kissing his way up your left thigh. You watch him for a moment, you could see his eyes dilate for a second and a hint of his fangs grow from his mouth. In that instant one of his fangs punctured the skin of your thigh. 

You gasp in surprise. A little blood escaped before Jungkook licks over the wound, closing it again. Jungkook's eyes closed and his breath raged. Your blood is like ecstasy on his tongue.

“Honey, a little warning next time.” You pout.

“Sorry baby.” He looks up to you with this puppy dog expression. “I just needed a taste.” 

“Okay, it just hurts. Easier on the neck. I’m used to it.” You bring your hand down to rub his cheek. He turns his face to kiss your palm. 

“So you’re saying I need to bite you more places more often.” He smirks and you just hum. 

“Sounds good to me.” You giggle and Jungkook's face softens. A look more of adoration.

“Whatever you want, pretty.” His head dips back down between your legs. You lay back on the bed. Jungkook hooking your underwear in between his teeth and pulling it down your legs.

He presses a feather light kiss to your clit before kissing all the way up your stomach, then chest, and then kissing you on the mouth. Sliding his tongue into your mouth with ease. Jungkook's fingers were wasting no time before he was rubbing your clit with one of his hands. Slow and tantalizing circles. You bit down on Jungkook’s lip pulling it back before letting him fall back into place. 

“I’m supposed to do that.” Jungkook fake whined, his fingers tracing the outside of your entrance which was dripping. Waiting for him to touch you. 

“Whoops.” You bring your arm to rest above your head. “Instructions unclear.” 

He kisses you again, before pulling away to kiss and then suck on your neck. Not feeding, just sucking to give you a regular old hickey. Taking two of his fingers to and sliding them deep into your dripping pussy. Reaching and curling his fingers to touch that spongy spot inside you that can easily make you cum. 

“Fuck just like that.” You moan, your eyes screwing shut. Your knees coming up in reaction to the pleasure. Jungkook moved to a different spot on your neck and left another barely visible mark. He had seen you cum and had you exactly like this hundreds of times now but he still could not get enough. He pulled away from you to look down at you again.

But sex was always a little complicated. Your blood moving and your heart pounding is almost deafening. Especially today he was still hungry and his mind still reeled with needing your blood. Spinning as he could hear the blood in your body pumping quickly with every quickened breath you took because of every touch he gave you. He hadn’t even realised, his fangs had reappeared in his mouth. He was beginning to drool. 

You open your eyes again and you see it. He was dazed, eyes completely dilated again. “Jungkook.” You say, tracing in line down his face. “Come back here.” 

Jungkook closed his eyes,  shaking his head. His fangs returned back in his mouth. Eyes returning to normal. “Sorry baby.” 

He pulls his fingers out and begins to rub your clit from side to side. You were getting close quickly, but you needed a little more. 

“You didn’t eat enough.” You raise an eyebrow to him. 

“I thought I did.” He rests his forehead against your, your breathing mingling with your lips so close together. “Not enough I guess.” 

You give him a quick peck on the lips before pulling back slightly. “Just a little longer honey.” You moan. You both knew if he drank from you now, the night ends here because you will be too dizzy and too tired to continue. 

“I’m fine, my love. You just focus on cumming on my fingers just how I like.” Jungkook leans up and away from you, connecting his mouth with one of your nipples. Licking around the bud, sucking and slowly pushing you closer to the edge. 

“Jungkook.” You moan, and Jungkook dips his fingers back between your legs. Pumping them in and out of you relentlessly. Wanting to get you over the edge, and blocking anything else out. 

Jungkook pulls his mouth away from you. His teeth chatter from hunger instinctually and he has to shake his head back to a normal state. He was so hard inside of his pants he could have cum just like this. “Oh you’re doing so good.” 

“God I need you to fuck me.” You whine, grinding your hips into Jungkook’s hand. He follows along with your rhythm, and continues to fuck you with his fingers. It really was not enough for you.

“Oh yeah? How bad?” 

“I’m serious please fuck me Jungkook.” You bring your hands up under his shoulders and around his back, digging your nails into him. 

“Fuck.” He exhaled, “I really want to make you cum like this though.” 

“Please baby, I need it. Please please please.” Between each please you kiss him. Jungkook chasing after your mouth after every kiss. Both of your hearts pounding in his ears, dancing together as one. 

“Yes… Yes, whatever you want.” Jungkook, with some hesitation retreats from you. His hand pulls out of you and you let out a small moan but know it’ll be replaced soon. Jungkook stands and begins to discard his pants and then his boxers with little time.

You stand up and kiss him again, before spinning the both of you around and sitting him on the bed. He was fully erected and you honestly needed to fuck him badly. You wanted him to fill up every inch of you. Your eagerness surprises him a little as you rest your hands on each of his shoulders. Adjusting your hips on either side of his. 

Jungkook just watches you eyes wide. His red eyes were dilated almost to black. You waste no time lining up your entrance with his tip, sinking down onto it slowly. Letting him slowly fill you up. Jungkook takes in a sharp breath leaning back on his hands while you sink down onto him. The two of you had no need for protection, from what it sounded like from many accounts. Jungkook couldn’t get you pregnant no matter how hard you tried.

Jungkook's eyes close tight, and his grip on the blanket next to him was evident. One of his hands comes to grip on your hip forcing you to bottom out on him. His grip was too tight, “Ease up.” You place your hand on top of his like you need to pull him back to earth. 

“Sorry.” He moans, his head falling to the side. His dick tucked perfectly inside you and his head twitching slightly almost driving you insane. “God you feel so good, fuck.”

You hum, and lift your hips on top of him. A moan falling past your lips, “Oh yes.” 

You create a slow rhythm between the two of you. Your hips rising slowly up and down on his cock. His dick rubbing up against that same spot inside you and your high building all over again. Jungkook is now able to get some relief. He was still having a hard time though. He was still just focussing on your neck. 

You could see it all over his face, his fangs were slowly peeking out again. His mouth was slack and eyes all fucked out. He was hungry and you were mostly just teasing him at this point. A small punishment for not eating enough. 

“Oh are you hungry?” You lift yourself up and sit yourself back down onto him again. 

Jungkook let’s out a gasp as he nods, “Yes.” 

“Hmm,” You sit up, Jungkook's dick dragging inside you tantalizing. “You lied to me. Said you were fine, but look at you.” 

“I’m sorry baby. I… I just… please.” He begs, a cross between desire and ferality written on his face. You sit your hips back down onto him, a moan falling from the both of you. You needed to toe this line carefully, but it was always a little fun when you got too. 

You loved seeing Jungkook getting so desperate for you, in more ways than one. He did it to you all the time and so you reveled in the time you got to do it to him. 

You continue to tease, you tone playful, “I don’t think you deserve my blood now.”

“Oh god please no.” Jungkook’s hands come up to either side of your face, desperation in his voice. Trying to pull you closer but enough slack given so you can hold yourself away. “Beautiful that’s not funny, don’t play with me right now.” 

“No. You said you were fine and you’re about to lose it.. All over my blood.” You lift your hips up and sit back down onto him again. “Shame.” 

“Please let me drink from you. Please just a little bit.” Jungkook's voice became slightly hoarse and he was fidgeting under you in desperation. Making his dick move inside and you had to do your best to not just cum all over him right now.

You place your hands on top of his that are rested on either side of your face. Pulling them away. “Ask nicely.” 

“Please. Oh my love please let me taste you.” He conceded, he was totally out of it. You had gotten what you wanted and it was so hot. 

His eyes sparkling under the light that only creeps in through the window of your room. You don’t move anymore. You kiss both of his hands before  letting them go. You tilt your head to the left side to present your neck. Jungkook, although starving, takes gentle care of you. One hand coming back to hold your opposite cheek, the other around your back. Keeping you in place. You close your eyes waiting for him to make his move. 

Jungkook’s fangs were fully exposed, his senses were completely filled with you. He licks a line over the spot where he is going to puncture before he sinks both of his teeth into your neck. Straight into the vein. The pain is cold and needle-like before it is gone but the side of your face and neck feels completely numb. Then Jungkook starts to drink, you can feel your heart begin to quicken. As the blood seeps out from you through the new holes in your neck. Jungkook drinks slowly to make sure he can tell how much he is taking. 

You remember the first time it happened, it hurt a lot. You felt like you could feel life draining out of you. Now it no longer hurts and has become more of an intimate act for the two of  you. Jungkook was always endlessly careful about how much he took. Never more than a blood bag's worth. It was difficult because of how good you tasted, you weren’t only the love of his life but the best meal he had in his time of being a vampire. 

Jungkook’s grip on your head was tight so you couldn't easily slip away, but after a moment, Jungkook loosened his grip and you could tell he was done. You had kept your eyes closed. Usually you got pretty dizzy during this so you always closed your eyes.  Jungkook with some force pulled himself away from you. His face came into view. His mouth was covered in your blood and it was dripping down his chin, teeth also stained red once again. His fangs detract back into his mouth. He was out of breath. 

Your eyes were tired, as you leaned forward on his shoulder. “Fuck me. That never gets old.” Jungkook sigh. Jungkook leans back in to lick over the spot to close the wounds. A stray drop of blood had made its way down your neck and collarbone. Jungkook wasted no time in licking it’s trail back up your neck. Cleaning it away for you. 

You kiss his forehead because it didn’t really do it for you to taste your own blood. “It can’t be that good.” 

“Oh trust me, it is.” Jungkook shifts his hips under you, his dick nudges slightly inside you. You gasp and Jungkook is finally actually able to enjoy your pleasure instead of hearing your blood pound in your ears. 

You lift our hips up and down on top of him again, his cock bottoming out inside your again and you both moan. Before you can continue though, Jungkook lifts you off of him and flips the two of you back over so you’re on your back. He does this to your surprise. 

“Now I can fuck you like I want.” Jungkook leans away from you and strokes his cock a few times before pressing it to your entrance. Swirling it around. You widen you legs so that he can have better access, you needed him to fuck you bad. Before you got to tired to do so. 

Jungkook guides his dick inside of you again. 

“Yes!” You groan, wrapping your arms around his neck, as Jungkook picks up his speed and he rocks his hips into your. The slapping of your skin echoing in the room. 

“That’s right baby. Cream my cock.” Jungkook groans as he continues to rock into you. The dizziness was hitting you but you didn’t care, you could feel your climax coming. 

“Fuck I’m so close Jungkook.” You groan, grinding your hips into his each time he makes contact with yours. Jungkook was kissing all around your neck, encouraging your high. He wanted you to cum so bad, getting to eat from you and then make you cum. He couldn’t think of anything better. 

Jungkook's body had become warm again, eating straight from you had that effect. You loved it when it happened, made you wonder if he was this warm when he was human too. 

“Cum for me baby, please please cum all over me.” Jungkook begged into your ear. Jungkook thrusted a few more times, his tip dragging against your g spot and you were cumming undone. Walls squeezing his cock as your cum began to cover him. 

Your walls squeezing around him as he fucked himself into you. “Oh fuck yes. God you feel so good.” 

With a few more pumps Jungkook was coming undone and cumming inside you. His cum filling up your cunt as he continued to fuck into you. Your cum and his mixing together. Jungkook thrust a few more times before coming to a stop. He slid himself out of you and his cum spilling out of your throbbing pussy. He wanted to kiss you but he had your dried blood all around his mouth. 

You were pretty dizzy, having an orgasm in the midst of losing a pint of blood wasn’t a super easy combination. Jungkook slid into your bathroom, closing the door so he could flick the light on. You covered your face with with your arms anyways, not sure if you would really be able to sit up without difficulty. After a moment Jungkook returned, he had gotten a new pair of boxers and his face was all cleaned up now. With a blink of the eye he had zipped out of the room and then zipped back in, you could feel the air shift with the speed he was going. 

He removed one of your arms from your face. A smile on his face as you open your eyes to look at him. 

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up.” He kissed you, his skin was cold again. Taking one of your hands and helping you sit up. What you hadn’t noticed is he brought back with him some juice, and another towel that was warm to clean you up. What you didn’t really notice was how you were also covered in your own dried blood. Jungkook may have taken a bit too much since he was a little sloppy with it. 

“I’m really dizzy.” Which was mild but was almost headache inducing. 

Jungkook nods, grabbing the juice he has placed on the ground next to him. “I know. I got you this and you need to drink it.” 

He places the cup in your hand. You drink it all down pretty quickly, you probably should have also eaten something when you got home. Would have made this a little easier but whatever. Wasn’t your first rodeo but Jungkook worried every single time. He helped you clean up after you are comfortable moving. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your next day at work was alright but you were,  in fact, exhausted. 

You were filing books away, running on two coffees, but you still felt like you were going to need another. You worked as a librarian with one of the largest Libraries in the city that had some of the oldest works, so this was your typical day in and out. You had spent a good part of your morning also restoring old books. Now you were doing some mundane tasks that needed to be finished. Luckily you would be leaving soon and early.

Your friend, Rehna, who was also your colleague, had rounded her way around the corner in your aisle to find you. She had roped you into an afternoon of shopping to find a new outfit for Jimin’s party. It was only two days away, the invite was fresh but Jimin had confirmed with you months ago that you and Jungkook would be in attendance. Much to Jungkook’s complaints. 

Rehna is also a vampire.

She was the youngest of the group. She was only turned 8 years ago. She’s technically 30 but she was 23 when she turned. She’s told you her story before, she was turned on accident. She was attacked by a vampire, she ended up biting him back and she swallowed enough blood to make her turn. Apparently it didn’t take much. You actually met her before you met any of the others. She was a vampire then but she was running around on her own. She only knew of Jungkook and the others through Jimin’s parties but never hung out with them until you and Jungkook started seeing each other. 

“Please tell me you’re almost done. I’m bored and I’m ready to find something perfect.”

“I would have thought you found something already.” You say, the theme was Bejeweled. Which was incredibly vague but you think you had the idea. “Honestly anything shimmery or shiny will probably work.” 

“Yeah but you know these parties are basically red carpet events.” 

“You just want to win the outfit contest this year.” She had entered and had yet to win the competition for the last few years you were in attendance. 

Her smirk turned wicked. "Damn right I do. This is my year." She lifted a finger in a dramatic flourish. "Now hurry up."

Before you could argue, the stack of books you were holding suddenly lifted out of your arms and flew onto the shelves, slotting themselves into place with eerie precision.

"Rehna." You groaned.

She grinned, brushing imaginary dust off her hands. "Oh, look at that, you’re done! Time to go!"

"Damn vampire powers." You muttered, crossing your arms.

You were annoyingly jealous that she could move things with her mind. Would make your life much easier as it certainly makes hers. She usually wouldn’t use it so openly but she really wanted to get out of here.

“I have a feeling you won’t have to complain about them for too much longer.” Rehna jokes but realizes her mouth was getting ahead of her mind. 

“What?” You say, luckily you were a bit distracted and didn’t hear what she said. 

You blinked, but before you could question her, she quickly threw an arm around your shoulders, steering you toward the employee room. "So, how’s Jungkook? Still annoying?"

You roll your eyes, “Jungkook is fine.” 

“He doesn’t come around here as much as he used too.” She sighs. She was actually glad. 

“He’s been busy lately, there’s always some new business with Jin these days. Today Jimin has roped him into something for the party.” You both enter the employee room and you both begin to gather your things. 

“Oh how exciting. To be honest I’m fine with him not coming around. He always leaves his stink all around here.” She shivers at the thought, Jungkook and Rehna weren’t enemies by any means. If anything they were basically like siblings at this point but if he was the annoying brother she only cared to see at family gatherings. 

“He can’t smell that bad.” You throw your bag over your shoulder. 

“Believe me. He does.” She groans, it was a vampire thing. From how Jimin has described it to you it’s not very strong, it’s just subtle but some vampires don’t like others smell. Rehna really did not care for Jungkook’s scent.

“Anyways, I’m assuming Jimin will have him roped into party prep all day. Makes it easy since it’s just at Jin’s manor and not like in a cave on the side of a mountain or something.” You explain, which is exactly what he had done last year. 

“Ugh but the best parties are always the ones he throws in some random obscure place.” She pouted. 

“I almost lost my toes because of the cold, and none of you produced any body heat so you were no help.” You moan, thinking about it. Most of the night was very fun but by the end of it you felt like your feet were going to fall off because the cold hurt them so badly. Evidently when vampires hold a party inside a mountain in the middle of winter, cold doesn’t factor into their plans.

As you grabbed your bag, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling you. But with Rehna, that wasn’t unusual.

And honestly? You were too tired to press her on it.

“Well it’ll still be grand no matter where it’s at. Jimin will make sure of that.”  

Because this party—this event—was the biggest night of the year.

Not just for vampires. For everyone.

Jimin’s soirée was a spectacle, something out of a gothic dream. It was more than a party—it was a gathering of the undead, an annual tradition that had carried on for centuries. Carried on because of Jimin. A night of indulgence and excess, of laughter and celebration. Vampires from all over the region attended, their grudges and rivalries put aside in favor of revelry. A silent truce held for one evening, upheld by nothing more than ancient tradition and the promise of a damn good time.

The venue changed every year, always extravagant, always hidden in plain sight. An old mansion, a repurposed cathedral, a secret ballroom tucked beneath the city. Chandeliers dripped with candlelight, casting golden glows against dark velvet walls. Music floated through the air; classical waltzes and modern remixes alike, played by musicians who had honed their craft for centuries. The scent of aged wine and fresh blood filled every corner, mingling with the faint traces of perfume and cologne.

But the real attraction, the thing that drew vampires from all over, was the blood.

It was a feast unlike any other.

Vampires brought their finest. Aged blood, stored in crystal decanters like fine whiskey. Fresh blood, bottled and sealed, each one labeled with its origin. Rare types, unique flavors, collected over years. Some brought exotic blends, infused with herbs and spices, creating something akin to mulled wine but richer, more intoxicating.

And it wasn’t just about drinking. It was about history. Vampires exchanged stories, sharing memories of the humans they once knew, the lives they once lived. They brought gifts, rare artifacts, and trinkets from centuries past. Some fought for sport, showcasing inhuman strength with friendly duels that blurred the line between violence and performance art. Others danced, moving with a grace that defied physics, their bodies fluid and weightless.

It was decadent. It was breathtaking.

And you got to witness all of it.

Human’s being in attendance wasn’t unusual. The situation that you and Jungkook had was not unusual. There were other vampires that had human partners and they would bring them along as well. Not all of them stayed human, the first year you went just about every human there you had met was either turned or had broken up with their vampire counterpart by the time the next party rolled around.

Human’s who weren’t the partners of vampires weren’t permitted though, or those who weren’t deeply entangled in their world. There is one man who is a sixth generation banker who is invited to these parties because he is in charge of the finances of a handful of wealthy vampires. His name is Larry. Nice guy.

Your continuation in being a human, although you and Jungkook had seemed to be attached by the hip, had brewed a curiosity in everyone. Although it wasn’t frowned upon or strange, it did feel like it to everyone else. Especially amongst Jungkook’s own coven. 

“Jungkook, to the left! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!”

Jimin’s voice rang through the grand ballroom, exasperation thick in his tone. The cavernous space was in chaos—drapes of deep sapphire, shimmering crystal fixtures, and layers upon layers of bejeweled decorations yet to be placed. At the center of it all, precariously balanced on a tall ladder, was Jungkook, attempting to hang a string of decorative jewels exactly where Jimin wanted.

Or, at least, close enough.

“I can’t go any more left!” Jungkook snapped, gripping the ladder with one hand and holding the jewels with the other. “If you want it so precise, why don’t you climb up here and do it yourself?”

“I’m busy!” Jimin shot back, crossing his arms as if he were personally burdened by the weight of this entire production. “I have a million things to oversee, and you’re up there messing around!”

Jungkook let out an aggravated sigh and simply hung the jewels where he stood, ignoring Jimin’s frantic gesturing.

Jimin flailed. “That is not where I told you to—”

“Too bad! I’m getting down.” Jungkook climbed down the ladder, dropping to the floor with ease. “If you care that much, do it yourself.”

Jimin threw his arms in the air. “I swear—”

“If you two are going to fight, at least take it to the living room.” Jin’s voice interrupted, smooth and composed as ever. He strolled into the ballroom with a book in one hand, scribbling notes with the other. “I don’t need you breaking another chandelier.”

“He’s ruining my vision.” Jimin huffed. Jungkook leaning against the ladder, annoyance all over his face.

Jin barely looked up. “Isn’t there an actual decorator running around here somewhere? I thought you hired someone?”

Jimin scoffed. “I did… But Jungkook’s here, so why not make him useful?”

Jin chuckled, thoroughly entertained, while Jungkook remained unimpressed. He had come here to talk to Jin about something else entirely, yet somehow, he had been roped into helping Jimin with decorations. The entire house was alive with movement—hired help rushing around, carefully placing extravagant decorations that now stretched through every corridor.

“I would’ve rather helped with literally anything else.” Jungkook muttered, stepping beside Jimin and bumping his shoulder.

Jimin huffed, shoving him back just slightly. “Well, too bad, because I needed you.”

Jin finally took a good look around the ballroom, his sharp eyes scanning the shimmering spectacle before him. It was hard to surprise Jin, but even he seemed impressed. “Damn, Jimin. You’ve seriously outdone yourself.”

Jungkook had to admit—the room was stunning. Sparkles in every corner, a perfect blend of opulence and elegance. Everything dripped with wealth, which, knowing Jimin, was always the plan. You were going to eat it up.

“Three hundred-plus of these gatherings, and you still manage to come up with new ideas.” Jungkook teased.

Jimin shot him a smug glance. “I’ve only gotten better at it over the years. Trust me, I’ve got plenty more party ideas left in me.”

Jungkook smirked. “Great. You can plan any party I ever throw.”

Jimin’s eyes lit up. “Promise?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Yes. Not that that’ll happen anytime soon.”

Jin, who had been silently observing, suddenly looked intrigued. “Oh? That sounded like a hint at something.”

Jungkook frowned slightly, glancing between the two of them. “A hint at what?”

“Oh, please.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “We’re all counting down the days until you and Y/N finally get hitched.”

Getting married to a vampire was a little different. A vampire marrying another vampire was more about declaring a companion. Some vampires do have the traditional ceremony but it wasn’t like the celebration that a human marriage was because vampires who wed other vampires is more of a casual affair. “Getting Married” was usually a term for vampires with human partners. 

Jungkook choked on his own breath, “We aren’t getting married.” 

“Why not, it’s been years. I figured it would have happened after you told her about us. You basically kiss the ground she walks on anyways.” Jimin smirks, trying to poke fun but a tone of seriousness was behind the remark. 

“You’ve been together for five years now and you haven’t asked?” Jin asked, he couldn’t help himself. He too was curious when the two of you would be getting married. 

“We haven’t talked about it.” Jungkook admitted, quietly. Almost looking like a kicked puppy or that he was going to get in trouble.

Jin and Jimin both pause for a moment, Jin raises a brow to Jungkook. “Seriously?”

Jungkook shakes his head. It actually never really came up, Jungkook was actually quite nervous to broach the topic. It was very serious and it’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, in fact he did. Just not in the way everyone thinks he would be thinking about it. He was more waiting for you to bring it up.

Jimin suddenly grabbed Jungkook by the ear, dragging him down to his level. “I cannot believe you haven’t talked about it. How could you not?”

“Ow—Jimin!” Jungkook swatted him away, freeing himself from his grip. He rubbed his ear with a glare. “I have thought about it, but it’s not that simple! We’ve talked about, like… regular marriage, but not about this.”

Jin tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “What’s the big deal? It’s completely normal. Happens all the time.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “Because I have no idea if that’s what she even wants.”

Jimin sighed dramatically before smacking Jungkook’s shoulder. “Seems like something you should talk about!”

Jungkook shot him a look, but Jimin just grinned. Ever since you had come into their lives, Jimin had immediately taken to you—he adored you. And whenever Jungkook did anything that seemed remotely questionable, Jimin was always the first to go to bat for you.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. The weight of their words settled uncomfortably in his chest. This wasn’t just a marriage proposal. This was forever. Asking you to marry him wasn’t just about rings and vows—it meant asking you to give up your humanity. 

To turn. To be like him.

The thought alone sent a storm of memories crashing through Jungkook’s mind, memories laced with pain, fear, and the irreversible consequences of a choice that could never be undone. He had buried them deep, locked them away where they couldn’t touch him. But now, under the scrutiny of his closest friends, the weight of it all pressed down on his chest like a boulder.

“The time isn’t right.” He muttered, voice tight.

Jimin stopped mid-step, turned on his heel, and without a second thought, kicked Jungkook square in the ass.

Jungkook stumbled forward, catching himself before he could completely lose balance. His glare shot daggers. “Hey!”

Jimin didn’t even flinch. “You deserved that.”

“I’m with him on that one.” Jin chimed in, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Right time? What kind of answer is that? You love her. I don’t even need to invade your thoughts to know that.”

A sly grin spread across Jimin’s face. I am invading your thoughts, his voice echoed smugly in Jungkook’s head. “And I know that’s a bullshit answer.”

Jungkook tensed, jaw clenching as he focused for a split second and then shut Jimin out of his mind. The vampire in front of him blinked, looking mildly offended before pouting.

Jungkook’s voice came out flat. “Come on. Is it really that hard to guess why I’m hesitant?”

Jin and Jimin exchanged glances before answering in unison. “Yes.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.”

The air in the room shifted. He glanced around at the staff still buzzing through the ballroom, adjusting final decorations, moving chairs into perfect alignment. Not here. Not where curious ears might overhear things that didn’t concern them.

So instead, he let his thoughts slip past the surface and invaded theirs.

A beat of silence.

Jin and Jimin went still as the realization settled in, Jungkook’s memories bleeding into their awareness like ink spilled across a pristine surface. Their postures changed and Jin’s amusement faded into something serious, Jimin’s cocky demeanor softened.

Jungkook. Jin projected, his mind brushing against his friend’s like a whisper in the dark.  There’s such a slim chance of that happening.

Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the polished floor beneath him. You can’t promise that. You remember how bad it got.

A flicker of something unreadable passed through Jin’s face.

Jimin cut in, his mind pressing against theirs like a sharp rod. That was a special case. This is different.

Jungkook shook his head, tension crawling up his spine. None of us know that. It would be my blood this time. It could have the same effect… or worse.

Jimin stepped forward, placing both hands firmly on Jungkook’s shoulders, his touch grounding, his presence warm despite the centuries he had spent as something cold. His voice was softer now, even in Jungkook’s head. Alright… I feel bad for giving you a hard time. But, Jungkook, everything is fine now. This could be something beautiful.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, flexing his fingers, trying to shake out the unease tightening in his chest.

Every time he let himself think about turning you, the same anxiety gripped him like a vice.

Jungkook's mind brushed past there's one more time, Or it could all be for nothing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It had been a few days since that conversation.

Jungkook had done everything in his power to shove the topic out of his mind, burying it beneath the routine of everyday life. He convinced himself there was no need to bring it up, not until you did first. It had to be something you wanted, so he saw no need for him to have that conversation until you wanted too. 

And Jungkook—true to his word—never invaded your thoughts. Never once slipped into your mind the way he so easily did with the others.

But right now? God, how he wished he could.

Because as he sat on the edge of the tub, watching you flit between the closet and bathroom, he had no idea what you thought about any of it.

It was New Year’s Eve.

The scent of your perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the faint traces of soap and fabric softener from your clothes. You were wearing nothing fancy yet, just sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Your hair half-done, your makeup barely started because you kept getting distracted. One minute you were digging through your jewelry, the next you were redoing your eyebrows, and now you were standing in front of the mirror, testing two different pairs of earrings.

Jungkook hadn’t even started putting himself together. He sat there, in slacks and a button-up with the top few buttons left open. But he wasn’t thinking about the party.

He was thinking about you.

And apparently, he was staring too hard because you turned toward him, arching a brow.

“What’s going on inside there?” You took a step closer and poked his forehead, snapping him from his daze.

Jungkook blinked, tilting his head up at you with an easy smile. “I’m thinking about you.”

Your face lit up, playful and teasing. “Oh yeah? What about me?” Turning back to the mirror to continue what you were doing.

Jungkook leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you through the mirror. “How much I love you.”

Your expression twisted into disgust. “Gross.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head as he stood up and closed the space between you. “You’re gross.”

Before you could retort, he draped himself over you, resting his chin on your shoulder. Watching as you meticulously filled in your brows. You let out a small huff of concentration, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to finally get them right.

Jungkook’s hands found your waist, wrapping around you with ease, pulling you flush against him.

“Jungkook.” You warned as you reached for your mascara. Unable to reach it as Jungkook pulls you a step back. You hand pathetically waving in the air for it. He started to sway you side to side, his grip tightening just enough to throw you off balance. “Jungkook.”

“We can be a little late.” He murmured against your neck, pressing a slow kiss to the spot where your shoulder met your neck.

You exhaled sharply. “No, no, no. You do this every time.” Laughing, you pried his arms off of you and spun around, poking him in the chest. “I don’t want to miss anything! I like these parties, you know.”

Jungkook just grinned, all mischievous and smug, before leaning down and stealing a quick kiss from your lips. “You always fall for it, though.”

You turned back to the mirror, rolling your eyes as you reached for your brush. “Yeah, like a sucker! Not this time.”

Jungkook stepped in close again, this time pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hands landed on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing slow circles as he watched you apply your mascara with careful precision.

“You’re just so cute.” He hummed, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. “I can’t help it.”

“How about you finish getting ready or something?” You quipped, flicking your gaze to him through the mirror. Waving your hand to shew him away.

You knew what he was trying to do. You also knew exactly what would happen if you gave in; your makeup smudged, your hair ruined, a twenty-minute delay at best. This year you were determined to get there at a reasonable time. 

“Fine. We both know it’s going to take me like five seconds to get ready though.” Jungkook strolls away from you, you could hear some frantic shuffling in the closet, before Jungkook appears seconds later. 

Dark green, nearly black, pinstripe three-piece suit hugged his frame perfectly, the crispness of his dress shirt stark against his inky tattoos. His hair somehow effortlessly tousled yet perfectly styled, made it seem as if he’d walked straight out of a magazine spread.

Jungkook threw his arms out with a smug grin. “See? All done.”

“Show off.” You pout, as you continue what you’re doing. 

Jungkook just chuckled, sauntering over and perching himself back down on the edge of the tub, legs spread, shoulders relaxed—taunting. He didn’t say anything, but the amusement in his eyes told you everything. Suddenly his voice invades and echoing through your mind. 

Am I distracting you yet?

You pointedly ignored him.

Though, you could still feel him watching you, and if you let yourself think about it too much, you knew you’d never finish getting ready. Because deep down, you knew he’d rather spend the night tangled up with you, alone, than go to this party at all.

After a little while, you finally finished your makeup and got dressed emerging in a similarly colored dark green silk gown that was beaded intricately with some beads that dangle off the gown like droplets. With some movement of the dress you sparkled under the light.  An off the shoulder classic, very old hollywood.

As you stepped out, Jungkook’s head snapped up.

His gaze slowly dragged over you, taking in every detail, his lips parting slightly before he let out a low whistle.

You grinned, twirling slightly to show off the full effect.

Jungkook stood again and crossed the space between you in a few strides. He leaned back against the bathroom sink, looking you up and down with something just shy of awe.

 “Hey you got something right here.” 

You look at him confused, then back in the mirror, “What? Where?” You frantically look over your face. 

He reached out, with his pointer finger and thumb, tilting your chin toward him. “Hmm… right here.”

Before you could react, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek. You let out a soft laugh, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wow.”

Jungkook merely shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh—wait. One more.”

Before you could question him, he leaned in again, this time pressing an equally slow kiss to your other cheek.

“Had to get that one.” He murmured, lips brushing against your skin. “Or the whole outfit would’ve been ruined.”

“Oh I’m sure.” You nod, your eyes racking over him now.  A familiar glow filling your whole chest. Jungkook took your hand in his. Pulling you out of the bathroom.

“Come on, sucker, we’ve got a party to go to.”

“Awe come on. You’re the one who said we could be late.” You tease with a small laugh falling off your lips. 

The two of you wasted no more time leaving, knowing full well that if you lingered any longer, you wouldn’t be stepping foot outside the apartment for days.

Jin’s manor was a short drive out of the city, nestled beyond the reach of streetlights and skyscrapers, surrounded by acres of untouched wilderness. The grand estate stood like a relic of another time—imposing yet elegant, its dark stone exterior bathed in the silver glow of the moon.

Despite its remote location, the manor was alive with energy. As Jungkook pulled up the winding driveway, you could already hear the faint hum of music drifting from within, an undertone to the laughter and clinking of glasses.

Jin’s home was more than just a lavish estate; it was the heart of their coven, a sanctuary that housed centuries of history. Ancient relics, preserved documents, and books bound in timeworn leather lined the vast library that stretched across one wings of the house. Jin had graciously allowed you to explore it before, though even after countless hours buried in those tomes, you had barely made a dent in its secrets. Centuries of vampire lore lived here, and it was precisely that allure that had made Jimin so adamant about hosting the party at the manor this year.

When you and Jungkook arrived, the massive double doors were already open, held by two eerily still gentlemen dressed in midnight-black suits. Their expressions were unreadable, their gazes sharp but unmoving.

You barely spared them a glance before stepping inside, though a part of you wondered—were they vampires? Or just illusions, elegant puppets crafted by Jimin’s magic? It wouldn’t be the first time he had conjured something like this for dramatic effect.

The moment you crossed the threshold, you were swallowed by opulence.

The vast entrance hall was bathed in a dazzling glow, every inch of the ceiling and walls adorned with sparkling gemstones, strung together like constellations. The light from the grand chandelier refracted off the stones, casting glittering reflections across the marble floors, creating an illusion of stardust swirling through the air.

It was breathtaking.

The energy in the room was magnetic—guests, both vampire and human, dressed in the finest silks and velvets, mingled effortlessly. Laughter and music wove through the air like silk threads, wrapping around you as you took it all in.

You leaned into Jungkook, who had an iron glad grip on your waste since entering the house. “Remind me to tell Jimin there could have been more glitter.” 

Jungkook laughed, “I know he really over did it this time.” 

“No!” You wave your hand dismissing him, “It's fantastic this is stuff you really only read about.” 

And it was.

The sheer extravagance of the event was unlike anything you had ever seen. The caterers, gliding through the crowd, were dressed almost as exquisitely as the guests themselves, adorned in dark silks with golden accents, carrying trays of crystal glasses filled with deep, crimson liquid. Blood. Some trays held what you assumed was champagne, meant for the few humans—like yourself—who had been granted entry to this ethereal gathering.

The walls shimmered with illusions, flickering images of dazzling courtiers and celestial phenomena. The ceiling above transformed into a starry sky that seemed almost real, galaxies swirling and constellations twinkling in slow, mesmerizing motion.

Jungkook dragged you along as you basked in every intricate detail, his hand firm yet patient as he guided you toward the grand staircase that led up to the main ballroom.

At the foot of the stairs, Jin and Jimin stood poised like royalty, greeting each guest as they arrived. Jin was immaculate in a deep burgundy ensemble that complimented his yellow eyes, exuding effortless authority, while Jimin—never one to be outshined—was a vision in icy silver, his entire look designed to catch the light and demand attention. Jimin had also bleached his hair back to blonde to seemingly match his outfit. All making his red eyes shine brighter.

Guests arrived behind you in a steady stream, some carrying elegantly wrapped gifts, others presenting cases of unknown offerings—rare wines, expensive liquors, or perhaps something even more elusive.

“Oh a vision in green.”

Jimin’s voice was warm and teasing as he extended a hand toward you, taking yours with effortless grace and placing a chaste kiss to the back of it. His lips curled into a knowing smile as he straightened, eyes flickering with mischief.

“Jimin, this is truly something else.” Your gaze swept across the dazzling room once more, still in awe of how something so grand, so utterly enchanting, could exist completely hidden from the rest of the world.

“You flatter me.” He hummed, tilting his head slightly. “Jungkook helped a lot in getting some of these decorations, so he deserves some credit.”

Jimin shot a wink in Jungkook’s direction, though you caught the slight twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips—no doubt remembering the near disaster that had almost cost them an entire ballroom and possibly Jungkook’s head in the process.

“Well, I can’t wait to see what else you have planned for the night.” You bounced on your heels, excitement thrumming through you.

Jimin, ever the opportunist, wasted no time looping his arm through yours, effectively pulling you closer. He leaned slightly around you, peering at Jungkook, who was momentarily engaged in quiet conversation with Jin.

“Can I steal her away?”

Jungkook’s brows lifted, gaze flicking between the two of you with mild suspicion. “Already? We haven’t even gotten a drink.”

“I promise to bring her back before midnight!” Jimin didn’t even wait for a response before whisking you away, your shoes clicking against the marble steps as you struggled to match his pace.

You barely managed to wave at Jungkook, who remained at the foot of the stairs, watching you go with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. But the moment your eyes met, his softened, comforted by the unfiltered excitement on your face.

Jimin led you straight into the ballroom—an even grander spectacle than the entrance hall.

A massive Phantom of the Opera-style chandelier hung from the center of the vaulted ceiling, illuminated by shifting technicolor light that cast mesmerizing reflections onto the polished floor. Rhinestone streamers draped across the ceiling like cascading waterfalls, shimmering under the glow. The same illusionary night sky from the main hall continued here, except now, the constellations moved, twinkling and rearranging themselves in intricate patterns, like a cosmic dance only the stars understood.

The music was rich and full-bodied, played live by a band on a raised stage at the far end of the room. Couples twirled on the dance floor in elegant, sweeping motions, lost in the rhythm of the night. Along the walls, guests gathered in small clusters, glasses in hand, some already deep into their drinks, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the space like a carefully orchestrated melody.

“Monique! I got her!” Jimin called out suddenly, his voice cutting through the lively chatter.

A woman with cascading dark curls turned at the sound of his voice, her deep purple gown clinging to her frame as she pivoted effortlessly. The backless design of her dress only added to her commanding presence, and as she lifted a delicate crystal glass to her lips, the deep red stain left behind told you exactly what she’d been drinking. Her hair curly and draped around her in effortless elegance. Orange eyes shining under the lights.

Monique.

She was one of Jin’s closest confidantes and Yoongi’s wife—212 years old, sharp as a dagger, and the resident doctor who could mend almost any injury, supernatural or otherwise. She was a force of nature in her own right. You could only imagine what Yoongi was like if she was like this, you had never had the pleasure of meeting him. Just heard stories. 

At the sight of you, her face lit up. “Darling!” she cheered, her voice smooth as silk yet edged with a teasing warmth.

She closed the distance between you in an instant, placing affectionate kisses on both of your cheeks before pulling back to admire you fully.

“My God, you look gorgeous.” You gave her a once-over in return, a slow grin tugging at your lips.

“Right?” She lifted her arms and gave a twirl, letting the deep purple silk of her gown fan out elegantly before settling back into place. “Always ready to impress.”

“And I am.” Without hesitation, you linked your arm through hers, Jimin still holding onto your other side, the three of you now moving as an exclusive little trio through the glittering expanse of the ballroom. The energy in the room crackled—laughter, conversation, the clink of glasses, and the distant hum of the live band blending seamlessly together.

“So, what have I missed so far?” You asked, glancing between them.

Monique took a slow sip from her glass, the deep red liquid staining her lips like crushed roses. When she pulled back, her eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Nothing at all, darling. The party has just begun.”

There was something reassuring in her tone, but you didn’t miss the way her grip on you remained firm. Protective.

These gatherings were grand, extravagant, and, by all means, safe—but that never stopped the occasional stray vampire from giving in to temptation. You were painfully, unmistakably human, and your scent had already caught the attention of several guests. Their gazes lingered just a second too long, their smiles just a bit too sharp. Monique, ever perceptive, had already positioned herself between you and a few of the more curious onlookers, a subtle yet deliberate message—this one is not yours to touch.

“With you here, my dear, I can actually get things started.” Jimin mused, flashing you a grin before gracefully slipping out of your grasp.

Your eyes followed him as he moved through the ballroom like a phantom, effortless and commanding. Without a single spoken request, guests instinctively parted for him, creating space at the center of the grand hall. The shift was immediate, the energy in the room tightening like a drawn bowstring. A hushed murmur rippled through the crowd, and then, as if bewitched, the music began to die down.

Jimin turned on his heel, his expression slipping from playful to regal in an instant. When he spoke, his voice carried through the room, smooth as silk yet impossible to ignore.

“Undead and undesired.” He began, the corners of his lips curling mischievously. “Welcome to the greatest night of your lives.”

A round of applause echoed through the hall, accompanied by knowing laughter from those familiar with his theatrics. He soaked in the attention, allowing just the right amount of dramatic pause before continuing.

“I am your glorious host for this evening.” He declared, his arms spreading wide as if embracing the entire room. “You’ve heard me say it all before the universe made earth, then man, and then the vampire.” A rounding sound of hisses left everyone in the room, a large display of teeth and intimidation. “And we have many great things in store for you tonight—stories that will haunt your dreams, performances that will leave you breathless, and blood that will keep you satisfied until the end of time… or at least until my next party.”

More laughter, the atmosphere growing lighter, though the air remained charged with anticipation.

“Please, enjoy yourselves.” Jimin’s gaze flickered over the crowd, his smirk deepening. “Indulge as much as you wish. Tonight, we feast, we dance, and we are one with the night.” 

With a spin and swish of his finger, the illusion that was once on the ceiling dripped down to the floor. Making it appear as if instead of walking on marble everyone was walking on the night sky. The illusion also seemed to envelope Jimin and his hair turned black and his suit went from silver to a midnight blue. The chandelier above shimmered, the illusionary constellations shifting in a dazzling display. The band struck up a new tune, rich and decadent, and just like that, the night was set into motion once more.

Monique exhaled beside you, shaking her head with a fond chuckle. “That boy was born to put on a show.”

“He does it rather well if I do say so.” You say, grabbing a champagne off of a tray that passes by you. Taking a sip, and of course Jimin had gotten a very nice quality champagne for this affair. You would probably be responsible for drinking two of the bottles.

“Where’s your boy?” Monique glances around the room seeing if she can spot Jungkook herself. 

“Jimin dragged me away before he could follow. He’ll find us.” You said, taking another sip.

The music in the air swelled as a performance took center stage, dancers twirling in perfect synchrony, their movements almost hypnotic. The glittering lights overhead cast shifting patterns across the floor, and Jimin had once again disappeared, likely off to greet more guests.

“I have no doubt he’ll find us soon. You two start to implode when away from each other too long.” She teased, squeezing your arm. 

“That may be a little true.” You giggle, sipping your champagne. 

“It’s sweet. You’re really great for him. I’ve always thought that.” She hums, which was true. She has told you many times over the years how great she thinks the two of you are. She was the most encouraging of the relationship in the beginning before Jungook told everyone he was dating a human. 

“What about you?” You asked, tilting your head curiously. “Where is this mysterious Yoongi I’ve heard about for years?”

You’d expected a flippant response, maybe even an exasperated sigh, but instead, a flicker of something serious crossed Monique’s face. It was so quick, you almost missed it but not quite. She schooled her features almost instantly, her smirk returning as she glanced behind you.

“Speaking of your lovesick puppy.” She raises her glass to Jungkook who was coming in your direction. 

You turn to look at him, a smile on his face. “Five seconds in this place, and they steal you from me.” He said, immediately reaching for your free hand.

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I think they like me better than you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I think you’re right.” Then, glancing toward Monique, he added, “Hey, Mon.” 

“Jungkook.” She tipped her glass in his direction. “Happy New Year. Get yourself a drink.” Without waiting for a response, she snagged a goblet off another passing tray and handed it to him.

He accepted it with a nod. “Happy New Year. Planning to steal her from me again?” He teased, resting his head lightly against yours.

“No I’ll let you have her back… for now.”  Monique’s smile remained in place, but something in her tone shifted slightly. You caught it again, that same momentary change in her expression. And then, just like that, she was stepping away, disappearing into the crowd.

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice.

“Where do you want to start?” Jungkook leaned in close to your ear. “Dancing, gambling, making out in the bathroom. I like the last one but that’s me.” 

You smile, hitting him in the chest, “We need at least two more drinks before we can do that.” 

“Boo, you’re no fun.” He clinks his glass against yours, “Guess I need to start.” 

You stop him before he takes a sip, “Hold on, one more kiss before you have iron mouth the rest of the mouth.”

He smiles, leaning in and giving you a lingering kiss. Wanting more but not really wanting to stick his tongue down your throat in front of all these people. 

With that, the night raged on, a whirlwind of movement and sound. You and Jungkook drifted from room to room, immersed in stories that spanned centuries. Some vampires were impossibly old, their gazes heavy with history, while others were younger, still burning with the reckless energy of newfound immortality. There were dazzling performances—some manipulating fire with a flick of their fingers, others bending shadows into eerie, shifting forms. Illusions warped reality before your eyes, grand halls transforming in an instant, blurring the line between what was real and what was merely a trick of power.

The night reached its peak with a fencing match and sleek steel flashing under candlelight, footwork so precise it looked more like choreography than combat. The duelists struck with deadly accuracy, piercing and slashing in ways that would have been fatal to any human. But here, wounds were shrugged off, blades pulled from chests without so much as a grimace before the fight resumed. Laughter and applause rippled through the crowd, the energy of the gathering growing wilder as midnight loomed. Blood flowed freely, whether in ornate goblets or from the eager mouths of those who had abandoned restraint.  

Jungkook and you got separated at some point. You had found Rehna amongst the chaos though. 

You both were now in a drawing room which was hosting the outfit competition. Waiting for the results to be read allowed. Rehna had her hands clamped tight around yours, almost painfully but you knew she was excited. Hoseok was the hosting vampire for this year’s competition.

“Second place goes too,” He opened up the small envelope, “The vampire Rehna.”

You let go of her hand and start clapping yours and join in cheers from other vampires as she walks on stage to accept her award. She was happy but you could tell she was a little bitter about not getting first. She rejoins you as the winner gets their prize. 

“Hey that was a tough call, I mean that girl who got first literally had made her dress in the 18th century… you can’t beat that.” You try to comfort her, but she picks herself up quickly. 

“Starting tomorrow we are planning my outfit for next year. That first place is mine.” She nods, gripping onto her small trophy so tight that it seemed to bend underneath her grip. 

“Hey, the top three get to take home some really nice bottles of blood. Why don’t we go pick yours out?” You say pulling her past other guests to leave the drawing room. 

You both make your way back into the heart of the house where you pass some tall French  doors that lead to a balcony area. Some vampires were smoking and other vampires leaning casually and others in deep discussion. You almost think nothing of it before you catch a glimpse of Monique standing outside alone. It makes you stop in your tracks. Rehna noticing your pause. 

“You alright?” She raises an eyebrow to you, trying to see what you see. 

You wave for her to continue on, “You go ahead. I’ll find you later.” 

She wants to pry but nods and continues as you turn to head out onto the balcony. The view of the estate just looked over the woods that spanned one side of the house. You could see the stars pretty clearly out here and it would be a lovely spot to sit and think. You understand why Monique may be finding solace here. You couldn’t help if you said something wrong to her earlier. She usually would be enjoying the festivities but was here… alone. Having that same look on her face that you saw earlier. 

The cold air bites against your skin, sharp and unwelcome, but you push past the discomfort and step closer to Monique. The moonlight catches in her dark eyes, and there’s something distant in her expression, a weight you can’t quite name.

"Care for some company?" You offer, your voice light despite the strange tension in the air.

She turns toward you with a soft, practiced smile. "Oh, darling. Having a good night?"

"So far, yes," You admit, swaying slightly as warmth buzzes through your limbs. "I’m a little tipsy, to be honest." You giggle, the edges of your amusement blurring under the influence, and Monique’s smile lingers, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Are you alright? You don’t seem as festive as you usually are at these things." You press, watching her closely.

She hums, a quiet acknowledgment, then exhales slowly. "I’m alright. Still having a good time, I promise. Just… some old memories getting kicked up."

"Was it something I said earlier? I’m sorry if I—"

She cuts you off with a small shake of her head. "No, not at all. I already knew I was going to feel this way tonight. It has nothing to do with you."

You study her, unconvinced. "Well, then what is it? I’m pretty good at listening. Even if I don’t always understand all the vampire stuff." You shrug, trying to offer levity.

A flicker of hesitation crosses her face, but then she sighs, her gaze flicking away. "It’s… Yoongi."

Your head tilts slightly. "The famous and elusive husband?"

The name lingers in the air between you. You’ve heard plenty about Yoongi. Whispers of a sharp mind, a man who seemed to exist only in the stories others told. You’d assumed he was simply away, a researcher, a traveler always chasing something beyond your reach. Whenever the subject arose, the conversation had a way of dissolving into something else, slipping through your fingers before you could grasp any real details. The way everyone spoke about him made it feel like he was still here.

Just hidden, just unseen.

"Yes…" Monique’s voice is quieter now, careful. "Has Jungkook talked about him much?"

"Here and there.” You admit. "The subject always seems to get dropped pretty quickly, though. I’ve heard plenty of stories from everyone else. I’ve always wanted to meet him, but it feels like… like he’s never around."

A pause. "Makes sense.” She murmurs, gaze flickering as if she’s choosing her words with precision. "Well, they were very close… Are close. Come with me."

She nods her head back inside and she takes your hand before you can ask anything else, fingers cool and firm as she pulls you through the party.

She grabs two more glasses which you assume is for herself. She leads you down two flights of stairs, away from the pulse of the party, the sounds fading into a distant echo. The air grows cooler, the flickering light from the sconces casting elongated shadows on the stone walls. You recognize this path and its one that leads to the cellars, a place you’ve rarely ventured. Few people come down here during these gatherings. It feels… separate, untouched by the revelry above.

“This feels like I'm being set up to be sacrificed or something.” You joke, trying to lighten the eerie atmosphere.

Monique lets out a laugh, her voice rich and amused. “Weird place to sacrifice you, considering there are over two hundred vampires upstairs.”

“True.” You admit, though the further she leads you, the less sure you are about anything. The air shifts, turning cooler, denser. The house above is lavish, but down here, it feels ancient. The stone walls, though well-lit, seem to close in the deeper you go.

There’s a shift in Monique’s expression, something amused yet knowing. “Oh, also, your boyfriend is trying to find you. He’s calling out.”

You groan. “How bad?”

“Pretty drunk.”

“Oh no.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. “He probably drank that mulled blood stuff. He waits all year for it.”

Monique smirks. “He’s going to be a handful when you get back.”

Great. You were already preparing for a very clingy, very intoxicated Jungkook draping himself over you the moment you surfaced from… whatever this was. But for now, Monique’s grip on your wrist is firm, leading you deeper into the underground corridors.

Eventually, you reach a narrow hallway lined with locked doors. Some have glass doors, showing carefully preserved artifacts displayed in temperature-controlled rooms and historical relics, no doubt, kept safe from time and age. Others bear plaques reading “Archives.” You recognize the setup from the old library you used to work at, except this was older, untouched by time in a way that made your stomach twist.

Monique stops at the last door. It’s heavier than the others, its dark wood carved with intricate patterns, a symbol you don’t recognize etched into the center. Without hesitation, she opens it.

The room inside is cold. Silent. The flickering lights barely reach the high ceilings, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The walls are lined with plaques, names etched in silver, and beneath them, urns carefully placed in recessed alcoves. It looks like a crypt, and the air feels thick with something unspoken.

But what catches your attention isn’t the room itself—it’s the statue at the very end.

It’s life-sized, eerily detailed. A man, frozen mid-motion, his body twisted as if recoiling from something unseen. His expression is caught between defiance and fear, lips slightly parted, eyes wide. He’s propped up with supports, standing atop a pedestal, carved in a military-style uniform.

You hesitate near the doorway, the weight of the space pressing down on you. Monique, however, steps forward, placing one of the glasses of blood on the pedestal’s edge with deliberate care. Then she turns to you, her gaze unreadable.

“Y/N,” She says softly, her voice carrying through the quiet, “meet Yoongi.”

You blink. Once. Twice.

Your gaze flicks between her and the statue, confusion settling into your bones. “What?”

She looks at the figure, then back at you. “This is Yoongi.” She lifts a hand toward the frozen man, as if introducing him formally.

You take a cautious step forward. “I’m confused.”

“There’s a long story here, but this…” Monique exhales, her expression tightening. “This is my husband. This is why you’ve never met him.”

A sharp chill slides down your spine. You glance at the room again, at the plaques, at the urns. Your stomach twists. “Did… D-Did he die?”

Monique shakes her head, her voice dropping to something nearly inaudible. “That would be easier.”

You step closer, standing beside her now. She’s staring at the statue like it might move, like it might suddenly exhale and return to her after years of silence. You don’t interrupt. After a long moment, she takes a deep breath. “How much has Jungkook told you about… vampire powers? Our history?”

You shake your head slightly. “Jungkook’s told me details here and there. I’ve asked a lot of questions, but honestly… it still feels like I’ve barely scratched the surface even after two years.”

Monique hums in acknowledgment. “It’s complicated.” She says, nodding. “As you know, we all have the speed, the strength, the mind reading… but beyond that, we each develop our own abilities. When a vampire has the power to manipulate something, and I mean truly change it, the only one who can undo that power is the one who cast it in the first place.”

A small pause echos between you. You watch as she seems to make a decision, deciding to tell a different story. 

She continues, voice distant. “I met Yoongi at the beginning of the 19th century. My sister and I had just moved to England, escaping a war that wasn’t ours. My father had connections and secured us a comfortable life through distant relatives. It was exciting but suddenly, we had titles, dowries, invitations to every ball. For a young woman, it was everything society told me I should want.” She lets out a quiet laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Yoongi was a Viscount at the time.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Really?”

“They were having fun with it.” A small smirk touches her lips, as if recalling something fond. “Anyway, Yoongi was highly sought after that season. He had wealth, he was gorgeous, and he had absolutely no intention of marrying.”

You can’t help but smile. “So how did you get his attention?”

Monique’s smirk widens, her gaze flicking to the statue. “It’s a classic story. Boy meets girl. Girl spills wine on him in front of everyone.”

You wince. “Oh no.”

“It was mortifying.” Monique shakes her head at the memory, a soft, wistful laugh escaping her lips. “I spent days trying to make it right, sending notes, trying to find a way to replace his coat. Apologizing over and over, but he didn’t care in the slightest. He actually found it amusing how much care I placed in a simple dress shirt.”

She falls silent then, her eyes locked onto Yoongi’s frozen form, as if trapped in the past alongside him. The weight of her grief settles over the room like a thick fog, making the air heavy, pressing against your chest. 

“So then what?” You ask gently, urging her on.

“He started coming around more often. We became fast friends, though he never officially courted me. It all just… fell into place. One day, I realized I couldn’t help how I felt. Except he beat me to it. Probably read my mind or something.” Shaking her head with pursed lips, “It was easy, natural… until he had to tell me about the vampire part.”

“How did he do it?”

“He just blurted it out.” She huffs a small laugh, the memory clearly amusing in hindsight. “He wasn’t dramatic about it, didn’t sugarcoat it,  just said it. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t care if I knew. He was so sure I wouldn’t blink twice over it. And he was right. I didn’t.” She shrugs. “I had no idea before that. They were very good at keeping themselves hidden back then.”

You shift your weight slightly, glancing again at the statue, at the way Yoongi’s body is posed. “Then he asked you to marry him?”

Monique exhales a long breath, her fingers tightening around the glass she holds. “Yoongi was actually afraid to ask me to marry him. Vampires asking for a human’s hand in marriage is a big deal. You are asking this person to be with you for eternity. It meant Yoongi was asking to turn me, turn into a vampire. Now he had little hesitation about it, for a long time, but he was terrified of what it meant. Of taking something from me. My humanity, my chance at a ‘normal’ life. He worried about things like children, about whether I would resent the decision later.” She shakes her head. “But I never wanted children. I watched my mother have five boys and knew early on that that life wasn’t for me.”

“So what did you say when he finally asked?”

A soft, nostalgic smile curves her lips. “I told him there was nothing I wanted more. That the idea of forever with him didn’t scare me. That  it excited me.” Her gaze flickers with warmth, but only for a moment before the sadness creeps back in. “He was so surprised by my willingness. But for me, it was the easiest decision in the world. That I would willingly die for him.” 

Silence hangs between you for a beat before you press further. “So then… how… when did this happen?”

Monique’s expression shifts, her voice quieter now. “It happened during World War One. Humans weren’t the only ones at war. There was a war between vampires, too. A lot of vampire men were drafted into the human armies, fighting not just humans, but each other. And the women… we fought our own battles in the shadows, deep in the forests.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “No matter how powerful we think we are, war finds a way to break everyone.”

Your stomach knots at the implication.

“One night, Yoongi and Jin were on patrol for their unit when they were ambushed by a squad of enemy vampires. They had no idea what kind of abilities these vampires had, but they were outnumbered. Jin managed to take down two of them, but he got badly injured in the process. Yoongi, was trying to get Jin out, trying to protect him. And then…” She swallows hard, her eyes drifting back to the statue. “One of them petrified him.”

“Oh no.”

She nods. “Turned to stone instantly.” Her fingers clenched into fists. “Jungkook and Hoseok found Jin, barely alive, but by the time they got there, it was too late. The vampire who did this to him was gone. No trace. No way to track them.” She exhales sharply. “They brought Yoongi back like this… and he’s been this way ever since.”

A cold chill creeps up your spine as you stare at Yoongi’s statue. The idea that he isn’t dead but that he’s still in there, trapped, unable to move, unable to speak—makes your skin crawl.

“You haven’t found the vampire who did this? Even after all this time?” You whisper.

Monique’s jaw tightens, and when she speaks, her voice is edged with something far more dangerous than sadness.

“No.”

Her lips press together before she exhales sharply. “It’s possible they’re dead. But it doesn’t undo the effect.” Her voice wavers, frustration and grief laced together in a fragile thread. “It’s almost ironic. Yoongi spend most of his life dedicated to understanding vampires better. Yoongi spent centuries researching vampire abilities, collecting books, studying cases, trying to understand all the different powers we possess… and yet, even with all his research, we still don’t have an answer.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “So he’s just… like this. Until we find a way to undo it.”

Your throat tightens. “Mon… I’m so sorry.” A small tear escaping one of your eyes. The grief that escapes her overwhelming you.

She shakes her head. “No need to apologize.” She reaches over, wiping your tear away. “And no need for tears.” 

“But—I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“It’s…” She hesitates. “It’s painful. I have to keep living in the hopes we find something… For the first few years, I wasn’t—I was just existing. A shell of myself, searching for answers, desperate for anything that could fix this. I hunted for that vampire for what felt like forever. We had leads, rumors about others with similar abilities, but they always led to dead ends.”

You swallow, glancing back at Yoongi’s unmoving figure. “You know… Can he hear us?”

Monique exhales slowly. “We don’t know. We all talk to him regardless, just in case. We tell him about the world, about what’s happening, about us. We try to keep him filled in… but honestly?” Her voice wavers. “A part of me hopes he can hear us. But another part of me hopes he can’t. That he hasn’t been sitting here, awake, for more than a hundred years, unable to move, unable to speak.”

Your eyes widen at the realization, he could be awake. “Oh my god. I hadn’t even thought about that.”

Monique’s eyes soften, but there’s an unbearable weight behind them. “Yeah… so today is hard. It’s supposed to be a celebration, but how do I celebrate without the person I want most? Sometimes it feels like he died. The grief comes and goes, like waves, crashing when I least expect it.”

“I don’t know… I’m sorry.” You murmur.

She meets your gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. “I hope we can find something.” She sighs, rolling the stem of her glass between her fingers. “But at least we live in a lasting age of peace now. Vampires have worked hard to bridge the gaps between us. We won’t have to fight like that again. We lost so many—so many were sacrificed.”

She pauses, then continues. “We’ve had vampires come from all over, trying to help. Some of them were Yoongi’s friends, people he helped in their time of need. But no matter how many have tried…” She gestures toward him, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re still here.”

You hesitate, glancing around the dimly lit space. “Why is he down here? Why not up at the party, where people can pay their respects?”

Monique’s jaw tightens. “Because in the ‘90s, some drunk idiot broke off his left arm.”

Your eyes widen. “Shit.”

She nods, and now that you look closer, you can see the faint lines where the repair was made. Just below the shoulder.

“After that, we decided Yoongi couldn’t be displayed at the parties anymore. It was too dangerous. Too much risk.”

Your chest tightens at the thought. “That’s awful.”

She hums, staring at her glass before tipping it slightly in the direction of the other drink she brought down. “That’s why I bring this.” She  says softly. “It’s for him. So he can still celebrate. I always come down here on this night. I spend the New Year with him.”

Your heart aches at the quiet devotion in her voice. “That’s… so sad.”

Monique shakes her head, offering you the ghost of a smile. “No sadness tonight. It’s a night of celebration.” She reaches out, squeezing your hand gently. “You should go back up. I’ll be okay. Now that you’ve finally met Yoongi.”

“Well it was lovely to meet you Yoongi.” You nod towards him looking back to her, “I  don’t mind staying.”

“You have so much to celebrate.” She gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Go be with everyone. Celebrate into the night. It’s close to midnight, and I’ve kept you long enough.”

You open your mouth to protest, but at that moment—

Baby. Baby, where are you?

Jungkook’s voice echoes in your mind, petulant and needy. He sounds whiny, which means he’s definitely had a few too many drinks. If you don’t go find him, he’s liable to start running through the halls, searching for you like a lovesick idiot.

You sigh, amused. “I’ll come say goodbye before we leave.”

Monique nods, her expression warm but tired. “Okay.”

With one last glance at Yoongi’s frozen form, you turn and head back up to the party—leaving Monique to her vigil, her love for him unwavering even after a century of waiting.

With a heavy heart and a mind full of tangled thoughts, you ascend the stairs, leaving behind the weight of Monique and Yoongi’s story. Their tragedy lingers in your chest, an ache that refuses to settle. She’s been waiting, searching, for him, for a way to bring him back. The sorrow in her voice clings to you, and as much as you wish you could do something, anything, to help… you know there’s nothing.

The party is still in full swing as you step back into the throng of people. Laughter echoes through the grand halls, music thrums beneath your feet, and the faint scent of spilled champagne lingers in the air. You weave your way through the crowd, your mind distracted as you search for Jungkook.

He could be anywhere by now, lost in the sea of guests. You sigh, dodging a pair of unsteady dancers and taking note of the slight destruction left in the wake of too much drinking—Jimin is going to love that.

“Oh, Jungkook, where are you?” You murmur to yourself, scanning the faces around you.

If only you had some supernatural ability to read minds, to pull his thoughts from the noise and find him in an instant instead of aimlessly wandering.

You slip into a quieter hallway, peeking into rooms as you pass, hoping to spot him. Nothing. It’s almost comical—he’s likely looking for you too, both of you just barely missing each other in the chaos.

Meanwhile, Jungkook has been trapped for the past hour listening to Jimin’s annual rant about how he should have won a gold medal in the 1972 Winter Olympics. He tells the story every single year, growing more bitter with time. Jungkook, slouched on a couch with his head hanging over the back, has all but tuned him out, using what little cognitive function he has left to search for your mind instead.

It’s proving difficult.

He’s six—no, seven drinks in. His limbs feel heavy, his mind hazy.

His eyes are closed when he feels it, a soft press of lips against his forehead. His red eyes blink open, vision blurry before it sharpens, landing on you. You’re smiling down at him, hands braced on either side of his head, warmth radiating from your touch.

“My love.” You say and Jungkook hums. A drunken smile on his face. Unbeknownst to him you had left a lipstick march on his forehead. In his search for him, you took a pause to reapply it.

“You found me.” He sighs. You kiss hip lips, a little awkward since his head was upside down. Leaving another stain on his lips. Then another on both of his cheeks. Another on his nose. All leaving lipstick stains behind.

“Now you look perfect.” You laugh at your work, Jungkook still unaware of what you had done. You pull out your phone to take a picture. It would be a good one to show him later. 

“I need to tell you a secret.” He says staring up at you while you stare at the picture.

“Yeah?” You look at him and he curls his finger gesturing for you to come closer. You lean your head close to his mouth. 

“I’m a vampire.” He whispers. Then, with a chuckle, he giggles at himself.

You snort, pulling back to look at him properly. “Oh my god, I had no idea.”

He waves for you to come close again and you comply, “I also really want to rip that dress off with my teeth.” 

“Hot, maybe another time.” You whisper to him. Standing back up straight. Jungkook hoists himself off of the couch. Walking past you with a smug grin on his face as he leaves the room. 

Follow me. His voice calls back to you in your mind.

You trail after him as he just keeps on walking through the house, stumbling a little but mostly keeping himself up right. You stay close behind, he manages to swiftly grab another glass for himself and for you. He caught a quick glimpse of himself in a mirror and gave you a knowing look. You just shrug your shoulders like you had no idea what you had done. 

 Before he veers down another hallway, which was technically off limits to other party members. You knew this wing, this is where the library was. Which is exactly where Jungkook ducked into. Things that were old but could be safely kept out in the open for those to look at regularly were kept here. It was a beautiful collection that Jin had curated over the years. Some works you would never find in any parts of the world. It didn’t shield from the rest of the sounds of the party but it was much quieter. Only a lamp was left on so the light in here was dark. 

“No Jin will actually kill us if he sees we brought drinks in here!” You protest staying a foot outside the door while Jungkook stands inside. 

“He’ll never know, plus he likes you so he would never get mad at you.” 

“Jungkook it’s almost midnight, we'll miss the countdown.” 

“We can have our own.” 

“But-“

“Come here.” He grabs your hand pulling you into the room anyways. Closing the door behind the both of you. “I just want one moment just with you.” 

He sets the glasses down on one of the side tables. Taking your hand again. Pulling you into him. You don’t protest him letting yourself fall into his arms. 

It was just a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment. The hum of the music outside filled in the void as your mind was flooded. Your chest was so full and so warm because you just loved Jungkook so much. Your mind still wandered. Thinking about something like what happened to Yoongi and Monique… you couldn’t imagine. How would you even handle that kind of thing if it was you two. She’s been waiting for over a hundred years now. 

They only got a small piece of forever together. 

You felt every word she said about Yoongi because it’s all the same things you felt for Jungkook. You would go searching the world for something to fix him. To bring him back to you. You would do anything. 

You would die for him. 

Your thoughts are interrupted. The sounds of people outside begin to countdown from 30. 

“So what do you want in the new year?” You ask him, your arms hugging tighter around Jungkook.

He thought for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, “Never hear Jimin’s Olympic story ever again. I lived it… I already know what happened.” 

You laugh, “Be serious.” 

20.

“Fine. I don’t need anything. I have everything I want already.” 

“Everything? That’s a lot.” 

“I know.” 

15.

Jungkook leans close to your ear. “What about you? What do you want for the new year?” 

“I think I want to have everything… I don’t have it quite yet.” 

“What do you mean?” 

10.

“I just…” The words caught in your throat because you had wanted it for much longer than you were willing to voice. You had thought about it since the day he told you but you weren’t sure if you were ready.

“What is it?” 

“I want more than this Jungkook… I want forever.” 

5.

“What are you saying?” 

4.

“I want you. I want our life. I don’t think I was ready to talk about it before but I want it now…” 

“Y/N.”

2.

1.

“I want to be like you... I want you to turn me into a vampire.” 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

a/n: woof this is a long one, I hope you enjoyed!! Let me know your thoughts plssssssss... I will try to have the next part out as soon as possible but enjoy this for now <3

𓆩♱𓆪 Next Chapter

Taglist!: @lilacstellar @london-dreamer71 @pitchblack0309 @dna-black-and-blue @uniquesuitcasegothcop @fancypeacepersona @whoisnanda04 @starlight-1010 @yooniepot @myjungkookthighs @inkedkoos @rrosiitas @spideyjimin @ahgasegotarmy116 @destenyofficial @taekrve @agustverse @jungkookswifeeeeeee @superstarfishsandwich @kooeuphoria @bdlyanne @candyshin00 @littlegirlmin @jimineepaboya @rklve @https-mei @littlegirlmin @m00njinnie @yoongisgirl69 @adoresjjk @dieforkoo @kookoo-kachoo @ukndtwme @livi101ful @mimi1097 @mrsjohnnysuh @heebear @xsyruhh @somehowukook

[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

Sanctity Masterlist

Sanctity Playlist

TO JOIN THE TAGLIST PLEASE CLICK HERE!

Ko-fi 💜

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!

[pinkberrytea]

Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion.

Memento mori—Remember you must die. Enveloped in memories of her death, the Vampire Ascendant watches his darling consort as she slumbers, lost in dreams of blood and mist. Life is short, and shortly it will end; death comes quickly and respects no one. To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning.

An exploration of Astarion’s character and his relationship with his Dark Consort following the ascension, from a softer perspective.

Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 6.2k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: thank you for reading! this is my first time dabbling in creative writing, and of course my first attempt at smut fiction, but still, i hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable. i would like to dedicate this work to the lovely @locallegume, who was a huge source of inspiration, and also to hismostbelovedspawn over on reddit, for being always so incredibly kind and supportive. i love you guys!

( part 2 here ) ( part 3 here )

tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; mildly dubious consent; creampie; fluff & angst; emotional sex; dry humping; possessive behavior; somnophilia; orgasm edging; piv sex

The beginning of the morning twilight is Astarion’s favorite time of the day, for it feels at once ephemeral and infinite. The wistful silence, broken only by the still timid chirping of the waking birds; the royal blue-colored sky, tinged with specks of the purples and violets of the dawn; the chilly morning breeze, gently rustling the flowers in the garden, pushing the still forming dewdrops off their petals and onto the ground; you, slumbering beside him, pale skin reflecting the dim light of the fading moon, rosy lips slightly parted. Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only.

Astarion finds it curious, how you seem to completely lose yourself in your dreams, yet he is also greatly perturbed by the notion that there is a part of you that he is still unable to access, to dominate. It feels unnatural, not to be able to control this elusive slice of your essence, but having ever only tranced, it also mystifies him that you’d voluntarily give up your consciousness each night. You were after all ever the trusting fool—from the moment you met, he had lied to you, manipulated you countless times, and each time you fell for it, standing by his side even when the world screamed at you not to. And even now, you give yourself to him, unquestioningly, unconditionally. In all the long years of his existence, there had been none like you, and there never will be again. None as trusting, none as kind, and he both hates and loves you for it. The very notion of you extending your kindness to anyone other than him is infuriating, and makes him want to take it for himself, put it in a glass dome and hide it away in a place where only he can bask in its warmth. He thinks he is owed that, at least; yours was the only hand that ever reached out to him, so he is justified in not wanting to share.

You shift slightly in your sleep, and a lock of your hair that had been trapped underneath one of your arms falls onto your chest. After eyeing it for a moment, Astarion reaches out for the tresses and grasps them between his fingers. Bringing them close to his nose, he takes in your scent, that is now also his. It smells comforting, familiar—it smells like home. The corner of his lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile, and he closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The hushed shroud of the early hours acts as a cloak, under which he is granted a brief respite, a rare chance to let himself be gentle, be kind. Just as you become entirely vulnerable before him in your slumber, he too exposes the soft underbelly of his feelings for you; that chaotic, intoxicating brew, a messy blend of passion, guilt, hurt, longing, and love, endless and unrelenting love.

He brings his elegant fingers close to your face, and ever so gently glides their soft pads across the cold, velvety smooth skin of your cheek. Your long lashes flutter slightly, tickling the sensitive area under your eyes as he lowers the digits to brush the plump of your lips. He admires you for a short moment, taking in your image—his pretty consort, so beautiful, so frail, so foolishly devoted to him. Oh how lucky he is, to have you who would do anything for him by his side; his most precious treasure, the reason why his long dead heart beats inside his chest once more. He grasps your chin, delicately tilting your head upward to face him, and tenderly presses his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your chest, fingers softly caressing the pebbled peak of your exposed breast, his touch so faint that his skin barely comes into contact with yours. As much as Astarion enjoys asserting his dominance over you, making you kneel before him, seeing the dejected yet submissive expression on your pretty face whenever he decides to make a show of his power, it is these moments he values the most. In your intimacy, he may treat you gently, tenderly, and in your state of unconsciousness, by morning his loving touches will be but a hazy memory, securing your place below, but close beside him, from where you shall never leave for as long as he draws breath—which he can now only do thanks to you.

His fingers on your nipple leave it alone for a moment to close around your breast, giving it a soft, gentle squeeze. Moving quietly so as not to wake you, he slides his right leg under yours and presses it against the back of your knee, creating a space between your thighs as he pushes them apart, where he then nests himself, climbing on top of you.

“Astarion…” when you softly whisper his name, his half-smile widens into a grin; how reassuring it is, to know you belong to him even in your dreams. He lowers his head to plant a kiss on the delicate skin of the curve of your neck, and his lips brush against the two small indentations disrupting the otherwise pristine smoothness of your flesh. Instinctively, he brings his hand to the back of your right shoulder, his long fingers blindly searching for the matching set of bite marks. The last of the three pairs adorns your left wrist, for which reason he will ever so often take your hand in his, only to lovingly kiss it and turn it around so he can admire the evidence of his proudest feat—having sired you.

“Oh my love, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Astarion coos, holding your head gently against his bare chest, fingers tangled in your hair as you writhe and squirm in his arms, empty and glassy eyes lost in a hollow stare, seeing nothing but darkness, endless darkness. The expression on your face is at once delirious and vacant—mouth agape and fists clenched, pupils blown wide, eyelashes wet with tears and a thin string of drool coming out from the corner of your lip and trickling down your chin. At least for tonight, you are lost to him, and as he winces at the still foreign sensation of the loud, vigorous throbbing in his head, your own fading heartbeat softens, dying down into nothingness. And right as it is about to fall perpetually silent, he lets his fangs pierce his own tongue, drawing droplets of now living blood; bringing your face close to his, he presses his thumb to your lower lip, and covers your mouth with his.

He loses himself in the memory for a moment, as he so often does. Your peaceful, serene expression stands in stark contrast to the one that had been etched on your face on that fateful night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet still he remembers the pain, the agony, the relentless fear building up in his stomach as your body contorted and tears glistened in your vacant eyes. Never had Astarion been more afraid of anything than he’d been of losing you, and by his hand no less. Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion. You only ever questioned him about what had happened on the evening of your turning once, but it mattered not how many times you asked, for he would never fully disclose the raw truth—how he had cradled you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in your ears, kissing away your tears; how he had picked you up as you lost consciousness and carried you to your bed, where he would then tuck you in so very tenderly, so very gently, softly patting your hair and holding your hand, sharing his warmth with you as you lost your own; how he would patiently wait by your side, watching as the color slowly drained from your face, his stomach sinking at the thought of you never waking again—only for you to then slowly open your eyes, their hue now a rich crimson, much like his own. No, he would never again allow himself to be so weak, for he was supposed to be your warden, your liege. This pathetic side of him was to be ever hidden from you, only rearing its ugly head during the brief, sleepy moments preceding the crack of dawn.

With his lips still pressed against your skin, Astarion starts peppering kisses down your neck, on the hollows of your collarbone and across your sternum, his hand on your breast fondling it gently, the other still tracing the bite marks on your shoulder. His still clothed hips start lazily, almost imperceptibly rocking back and forth, lightly grinding against your naked thighs; thinking back to the night when he made you his almost inevitably causes blood to rush to his groin, and his body starts unconsciously seeking the sweet relief of the friction between his hardening erection and your supple skin. He moves his hand on your breast to grasp your nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing it. You involuntarily buck your hips in response, which amuses him greatly as he continues playing with the tender nub. A soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging and emboldening his attentions as they drift away from your clavicle towards your chest. He plants gentle kisses on the plump of your bosom, using his teeth to pull at your nightgown and drag it down, exposing your clothed breast to the chilly morning air. You shiver, and he smiles against your skin, pressing his lips to the valleys of your ribs, the softness of your lower belly, and finally to your bare crotch. With his face so close to your swollen sex, the sweet scent of your essence now intoxicates his senses. He stands back for a moment to admire how it glistens in the faint glow of the moonlight, so deliciously inviting, as your juices start building up and collecting in-between your folds.

Feeling his breath caressing the sensitive skin of your core, you finally start to slowly regain consciousness. Once his arousals were returned to him, Astarion would make a habit of waking up during the night at various times to bury his cock in you, so it takes you but a moment to gather your bearings. Either out of mischievousness or curiosity, you play coy at first, pretending to be asleep still. His soft lips briefly come into contact with your engorged bud, sending shock waves through your body, and you are barely able to keep yourself from letting out a yelp, although you can’t prevent your skin from becoming covered with goosebumps. When his tongue pokes out of his mouth to give it a tentative lick, you know you won’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. He feels your body tense up, and slightly raises his head to look at you from his position between your legs with half-lidded, lascivious eyes, dilated pupils partially covering the ruby hue of his irises. You’re unsure if he has already caught on to your little ruse, so you try staying as still as possible, which proves difficult with his face so close to your cunt.

After what seems like an eternity he decides to continue, lapping at your clit again and then sliding his tongue downwards, burying it between your folds. He presses it against the outer edge of your entrance, squeezing slick out of you, and as he savors your essence, he can’t help but think that while its sweet tanginess does not compare to the coppery, velvety richness of the crimson in your veins—nothing ever will, for his is the blood that courses through them—it may well be the second best thing he has ever tasted. Gliding his tongue upwards once more, he uses it to gently massage the raw bundle of nerves crowning your mound, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with your fluids between it and your twitching cunt, which then dribbles down onto your thighs. Placing a hand on each side of your hips, he pulls you closer to him, and the shift causes his fangs to graze the sensitive skin of your folds, in response to which your eyes water and you clutch the silk sheets under you both. Taking no notice of your desperate reaction, he continues swirling his tongue up and down your wetness, gently sucking on the tender skin, eagerly eating you up as if you were a full-course meal served especially for him, just begging to be ravished.

You feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and at this rate it won’t be long before you are brought to the edge. Momentarily forgetting the fact that you are supposed to be pretending to be asleep as you lose yourself in the crescendo of your release, you arch your back, leaning on your elbows to support your weight, and as soon as you do, he mercilessly pulls away from you, leaving your dripping core empty and aching. Eyes closed still, you let out a soft mewl in protest, which you regret as soon it leaves your lips, for once Astarion notices your desperation, you are done for.

Still unsure if he has already perceived your awakened state or if he believes your body to be involuntarily reacting to his touch, you dare not produce any further sounds. Having cruelly left your throbbing arousal unattended, his tongue now glides its way up your stomach, leaving a glistening wet mess in its wake. Upon reaching your chest, his lips latch onto your left breast, your perked nub fitting perfectly inside his mouth. He sucks on it ever so tenderly, teasing it with a pointed tongue and lightly scraping the squishy surrounding flesh with his fangs. One of his hands leaves its place on your hip and finds its way between your legs, and you let out a sigh of relief when you feel a long, elegant finger ghosting over your clit. The other hand slides further down to the curve of your ass, and his blunt nails dig into your soft skin, giving it a firm squeeze.

The pad of the wandering digit finally presses down onto the engorged flesh of your reddened knot, massaging it leisurely in circular patterns, and another finger suddenly slides between your folds, parting them gently. Unable to contain yourself, you roll your hips into his hand, which you soon learn is a grave mistake as he tightens his grip on your ass, applying such pressure that come morning, bruises are certain to form on the pale skin, which he will then tenderly kiss better while looking apologetically at you from under thick lashes; and you will forgive him, as you always do. Lifting his head up from your now rouged, swollen nipple, he readjusts his position above you, using his body weight to pin you down and hold you in place. He lets go of your ass, firmly grasping at your jaw with his newly freed hand, and even from behind closed eyes you can feel the intensity of his gaze. This does not bode well, and try as you might you cannot ignore the sickening pinch in the pit of your stomach as his eyes scrutinize every inch of your face—has he noticed? Is a punishment in order? Will he deny you your release?

“Open up, darling. Your mouth.” The commanding tone with which Astarion vocalizes the otherwise unassuming words is all it takes to placate your erratic thoughts, and obeying is for you as natural as breathing—or it would be, if you were still alive. Once you do as he says, you feel his thumb pressing on your lower lip, forcing it further down. He slides the digit inside your mouth, gagging you slightly, and your lips instinctively close around it. “Good girl,” he purrs, and encouraged by the tenderness of his praise, you start lightly sucking on it, coating it with saliva. For a short moment, he becomes entranced by the feeling of your wet tongue massaging his skin, and his mind wanders to the thought of your plump lips wrapped tightly around his cock. This prompts him to once again start bucking his hips, rubbing the now obvious bulge underneath his pants against your stomach, but this time his rhythm is much more frantic, more desperate.

Relief washes over you as you feel the fingers still in your mound resume their fondling, the one on your clit now applying greater pressure, handling it much less gently, yet just as skillfully, his knowledge of all the ins and outs of your body having always been something he prided himself on. The other makes its way down from its place between your folds, plunging into you as soon as it reaches your entrance. Your body jerks in response, and your moan is muffled by his thumb in your mouth—when he then plunges another, stretching you open without giving you time to adjust, you involuntarily bite down on the digit gagging you, sinking your fangs into his flesh. He grimaces, and you can tell you have hit an artery, because the flow of the thick, hot blood running down your throat is alarmingly heavy. However, rather than pulling away, he lets you drink, curling his fingers inside you and massaging the tight walls of your cunt with his knuckles. The rich taste of his crimson lingering in your tongue and spreading inside your body, mixing with yours within your veins and making them pulsate with life—pure, raw, vibrating life—works as a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening all your senses, and the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers is all it takes for you to come undone on his hand, muscles spasming and clenching around the digits, coating them in the sweet nectar of your release.

Just as you reach your climax, Astarion’s own teeth sink into the indentations marking the otherwise smooth skin of your neck. You instinctively cock your head to the side to grant him more access, letting him feed on you as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, sucking on his thumb still. His blood flows from him to you and then back to him, and the sheer intimacy of it brings you so close together that it’s as if you have merged into one single being. You can no longer tell where you end and he begins, as your minds touch and mesh and then untangle again, in a sensual, chaotic dance, where you both sway to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And while the connection lasts, his emotions rush through you and yours through him, rendering words meaningless as the everlasting adoration, the inebriating, all-consuming love you share, no matter how tainted, is laid bare before you, in all its wickedness and allure.

“Fear not: you are mine.”

You finally open your eyes, letting go of his thumb, and as the fog from the afterglow subsides you notice his fingers remain inside you still, gliding effortlessly up and down your twitching walls, which are now lubricated with slick and come; your skin tingles from the overstimulation, but the sensation is not unwelcome. With the hand you have just freed, he holds your head in place while he continues to feed, and you both stay like this for a while, his fingers buried inside your cunt and his fangs in your neck, where they rightfully belong. His little grunts as he drinks from you and the feeling of his hardened cock pressed flush against your stomach rekindle the ache between your legs, causing the living blood now coursing through your veins to flow to your tender core.

Having drank to his heart’s content, Astarion pulls away from you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness as both his fangs and fingers leave your body. No longer plagued by the perpetual, agonizing hollowness of vampiric hunger, his only reason for feeding on you still is the invigorating thrill of your taste on his tongue and your blood pulsating in his arteries; you were his first, after all, having offered him the greatest gift of them all when you had no good reason to. Killing you on the evening he first revealed his true nature had never been out of the question, and it puzzles him still why you would willingly surrender this sanguine gift to a vampire stalking you in the night—a pitiful creature, hiding in the shadows, with murderous intent and offering you nothing but pain and misery. He is reminded of your foolishness and naïveté every time he sinks his fangs into your soft flesh, and the familiarity of it is oddly comforting to him.

Not bothering to wipe the red smear on his chin, he brings his hand up to your mouth once more, only this time his digits are covered in your juices. A single look into his crimson eyes, clouded with lust, tells you all you need to know, and you eagerly obey the silent order, wrapping your lips around his fingers.

“Ever so obedient, aren’t you, my sweet?” His honeyed words and impish smile send shivers down your spine, and unable to talk as your tongue flicks and swirls, lapping at your own sticky essence, you look up at him through your lashes with coquettish demureness; his pretty little spawn, always so good to him, so docile, so devoted. The very sight of you makes his cock twitch with desire. “I do find it charming when you play your darling little games. Mostly because you are awful at them. You did know I was aware the entire time, didn’t you?,” although his smile widens, there is a hint of danger in his voice, “That you were awake.”

As his blood within you rushes to your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears, Astarion’s expression darkens, and the lust in his eyes grows wilder, more desperate. There is something endlessly enticing about how bashful and girlish you look with your face hot and flushed with his crimson, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and it makes him want to devour you whole. He abruptly slides his fingers out of your mouth, and the glistening string of your fluids that forms between your lips and his digits breaks off as he uses that same hand to grab your neck and bring your face close to his. Once you are mere inches apart, he stops for a moment, the proximity between you such that you can feel his long lashes brushing against your skin and see the flecks in different shades of red swimming in his irises. The stillness in the air makes you acutely aware of the sound of his heartbeat, and it paradoxically both comforts and torments you. Such is the nature of your relationship; yearning and sorrow, worship and regret, lust and greed. The duality of it is not lost to you, but you’re past the point of coming up with justifications, for it is far too late for redemption. You made your choice, he made his, and now his burden is yours to bear. It matters not if outsiders looking in cannot make sense of it, as the bond between you was never meant to be understood by anyone else—however ugly and twisted it may be perceived by those around you, it is undeniably a bond of love, one you are willing to protect even if it costs you everything.

“Until the world falls down.”

When he finally closes the distance between you and crashes his mouth into yours, your mind is wiped clean of any semblance of coherent thought and your senses are filled with nothing but him—his scent, his warmth, his taste. He hungrily parts your lips with his tongue as soon as your skin touches his, your teeth clicking in his desperation, and his grip on your neck tightens. You feel tears well up in your eyes, some spilling through your lashes and rolling down your cheeks, your repressed emotions overflowing as you lose yourself in the fierce intensity of his kiss. You want him, you need him, you hate him; you love him, oh how dearly you love him, more than life itself. He explores the inside of your mouth, wantonly, passionately, only stopping to suck on your bottom lip, nipping it with his fangs and lapping at the droplets of blood blooming from the punctured flesh. Once he pulls away, gasping for air, you are both a disheveled mess, lips swollen and bruised and red. Not yet letting go of you, his fingers wrapped around your throat still, he guides your head back down, laying it on the soft feather pillow, only to then straighten up his torso, hand on your neck holding you in place and darkened eyes looking down upon you. From your position below him, he looks ethereal, almost godly, as the moon casts a pale halo around his frame, shining its light on the naked skin of his upper body.

He holds this position for a while, silently studying your face, and as he does, his intense gaze seems to gradually soften, mellowing out into almost tenderness. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin lessen, and then cease completely as he frees you, raising his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb traces the trail of dried tears, and you lean into his soothing touch, eyes wettening once more. Taking notice of this, he leans back down and brushes his lips against the teardrops threatening to escape from your lashes, drying them before they fall.

“Shh, my darling, hush.” The softness in Astarion’s voice and the gentleness of his caresses as he runs his fingers through your hair are all you ever yearned for, all you ever needed, and yet with every touch your chest tightens and you feel a pang of loneliness and guilt tugging at your unbeating heart, for this is what you want, but not what you deserve. You failed him, just as he failed the others, and your regrets bind you together for eternity as the thread of your fate entangles with his in a constricting embrace—so is it too greedy, to let yourself be selfish and indulge in his warmth before the sun rises? Is even someone as broken and wicked as you allowed a moment of reprieve, however brief? You know not the answer to these questions, nor do you think you ever will. All you know is that there’s nowhere else you want to be but in his arms, no matter how much it hurts, for you’ll endure the pain as long as you are by his side.

“Kiss me,” you quietly plead, your supplication barely a whisper, prompting him to pull away slightly to look into your eyes. He takes a moment to try and read your expression, his gaze sharp, inquisitive, stripping you off all your defenses and laying you bare before him. A short time passes, and without saying a word, he lowers his head down again, lips brushing against yours, their pillowy softness and the taste of your blood still lingering on his skin shrouding your mind in a white fog. You raise both of your arms and wrap them around his neck, bringing him closer as your mouth matches his movements, the desperation of before now manifesting more tenderly, more lovingly, but just as intensely. One of his hands remains on your cheek as he kisses you, and with the other, he finally unlaces his pants, freeing his neglected erection, which by now is slick from the precome leaking from its engorged head. The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both.

Feeling his hardness against your thigh, you readily comply, spreading your legs apart. You need this just as much as he does; to be one with him, carnally, for your souls have long merged, and there is no you without him just as there is no him without you. As he lines up with your entrance, his lips leave yours and he presses your foreheads together, staring into your eyes with reassuring tenderness. You feel the tip of his cockhead flush against your dripping sex—the reddened, puffed up skin feels warm, and thinking of how it is swollen from his blood in your veins is all it takes for him to finally snap and give into his desires. He slides inside of you in a single thrust, the wetness from your juices facilitating his entry as he stretches your walls to accommodate his large size. You try to bite back a whimper, your eyes once again tingling and prickling with the promise of tears as one of your hands finds its way to the back of his head and your fingers become entangled in his silvery curls. Not moving immediately, he waits a while, giving you time to adjust. You revel in the familiar feeling of his cock stuffed inside your core, the pain and warmth of it, and you wonder if he too can find comfort nowhere else but in your flesh, as it is only when filled with him that you are able to hold together the broken pieces of your descended mind.

The hand that had been cupping your cheek now rests on your waist as he moves his head to nuzzle the curve of your neck, taking in your scent. Ever so slowly he starts rolling his hips back and forth, planting gentle kisses on the delicate skin where his fangs had been buried just moments ago, now stained with patches of dried blood. You close your eyes, still trying to hold back the tears, hugging him as tightly as you can, or as tightly as he’ll let you. His pace is at first languid, sensual, allowing you to feel the entirety of him as he massages your aching, tender walls, still sensitive and spasming from your orgasm. He grunts in your ear, prompting you to start undulating your own hips, doing your best to match his rhythm. Emboldened by this, he moves his hands down to grab your ass, tilting your pelvis up and pulling you closer to him. Just as desperate to feel him as deeply as physically possible, you wrap your legs around his midriff, allowing him to reach the innermost parts of your throbbing cunt. When the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy skin of your cervix, your gut tightens and you cry out for him, unable to contain yourself.

“Astarion…”

The sound of his name in your lips, so very eager, so very sweet, is all the encouragement he needs, and the once languid movements give way to more vigorous pounding, the lewd sound of smacking flesh echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he snaps his hips and buries himself deeper inside your aching core. Your body rocks in rhythm with his thrusts, the tears in your eyes finally escaping your lashes and running down your face, a chaotic culmination of all the pleasure, all the hurt, all the desire and all the devotion brewing deep inside your heart as your raging feelings come to a boil. No one can understand, no one will understand—and yet, as he fucks you senseless in the early hours, pumping his cock in and out of you with lascivious abandon, none of it matters. You hold him even closer, pressing your squishy breasts flush against the sweaty, glistening skin of his chest. He moans at the sensation, intensifying his pace and using his hands on your ass to tilt your pelvis higher, pushing your folded legs, which are still wrapped around him, as close to your upper body as your flexibility will allow it. You feel the muscles in your thighs stretching and burning, but this only excites you further, and the soft whimpers leaving your lips escalate in frequency and loudness alike.

As he continues pounding into you, Astarion’s kisses on your neck become more passionate, more heated, going from pecks, to licking, to sucking, until eventually he gives in and once again sinks his fangs into the bruised flesh. You mewl faintly and your grip on his hair tightens, in response to which he bites down on you harder, nails raking across the skin of your ass as his thrusts grow fiercer, more violent. The message immediately gets through to you—the cheeky little spawn must know her place—so you obediently let go of his curls, although your digits remain entangled in them still; yet he does not slow down his pace, ramming into you with such force that you are afraid you will have trouble walking once he is finished. Mercifully, one of his hands leaves its place on your ass to hover above your swollen clit, which twitches desperately as his cock resurfaces and then disappears again inside your cunt. He grasps it between two deft fingers, massaging the engorged bundle of nerves as a reward for your obedience, and that is all it takes for tension to again start building up in your groin.

“You have given me everything.”

His digits on your tender bud; your blood running down his throat; his cock slamming into you, stretching open your tight walls—you are so very close to climaxing again, and yet you don’t want the moment to end; you don’t want morning to come, breaking the spell and robbing your lover from you, as it always so cruelly does. The tragic inevitability of it is however unaffected by the infinitude of your existence, a gift that was also bequeathed to you by him, and enveloped by the ice-cold embrace of the memories of your death, your body comes alive as you are pushed over the edge, your twitching cunt fluttering and contracting around him, creaming and squirting your sweet juices all over his length.

As you slump back and go limp is his arms, Astarion unlatches his mouth from your neck and props up his torso to marvel at your image as you bask in the glory of your release—so maddeningly beautiful, cheeks and plump lips flushed bright pink with what remains of his lifeblood within you; his consort, his spawn, his to use as he pleases, his and nobody else’s. While he continues fucking you through your orgasm, all you can hear are his low moans and grunts and the squelching sounds of your wetness as he ruts into you with ever increasing furor. You can tell he is also close by the way he holds your hips with both of his hands, pushing his own against them with almost vicious ferocity while you remain slumped on the headboard, tits bouncing cutely with every thrust. The daylight seeping through the curtains now brightens up the room, and as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, you notice how handsome he looks illuminated by the gentle glow of the rising sun, sweat beading his temple and dripping down his chin and nose.

“Gods…” he groans, voice raspy with lust, and with one final push he empties himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his seed, which feels thick and warm flooding your tender walls. Still panting and sucking in sharp breaths, he falls on top of you, not bothering to pull his cock out of your still spasming cunt, chest flush against yours and head burrowed in the crook of your neck. Spillover runs down your thighs and soaks into the wrinkled sheets, but neither of you bother cleaning it up, the resulting stain surely to give the maids good reason to blush later.

You bring a hand up to his silky curls once more, gently running your fingers through them as you feel the calming thumping of his slowing heartbeat vibrating against your cold skin. As the dawn finally breaks over the still sleeping city, signaling the beginning of a new day in your undead life—for better or for worse—you find comfort in the warmth of his flesh and the sound of his ragged breathing as it gradually steadies. All your suffering, all your pain; if even your death is required to bring him to life, then so be it. He will live for the both of you, and you will love him for it. Forever—for good.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 9 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 11k oof

A/N: HELLO GUYS!!!! Ooof I rushed to finish this one and it got SO FUCKING LOOONG. It took a little longer than expected, but as I said on Tumblr, my pregnant sister was hospitalized this week. Not only did I accompany her hospitalization but I was also not in the mood to write lol but everything is fine now! She was discharged and the baby is safe. My lil niece wanted to be a pisces real bad for some reason lmaooo not yet bbygirl stay there a little longer 🤚 Also!!!!! Dear reader Em made this incredible art of Ruby!! I got so shocked what 😭😭 someone was willing to make art of a fic of mine?? That's so cool!! Ruby looks so hot in their interpretation!! EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU EM 🫂🫂🫂 @anesthesia-4rizzle Anyways, let me shut up this chapter is already long enough lol Enjoy!! <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

The scepter was lifeless yet again when you took it in your hands.

You didn’t really want to, scared of it starting to burn once again. Now that adrenaline had completely ran off, you understood that Alucard was right; you had, in fact, some sort of fever. Your forehead was covered by a thin layer of sweat and you felt unexpectedly hot, given the chilly night air. Your limbs also felt strangely weak as if you’d done some tiring exercise.

And your chest…

You remembered how your chest – your heart – seemed to burn with these three dead vampires, too. Burning you from within.

You wondered if you’d have burned with them if you kept holding it for much longer.

To your great relief, nothing strange happened when you touched the scepter again. It was exactly on the same spot you had dropped it.

Alucard knelt down near the burnt bodies. Smoke still steamed from them. He had a deep, serious frown in his face.

“Did you read the inscriptions of the scepter out loud?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No.” You looked down as Alucard got up and approached you again. “I didn’t do anything. I was just… scared. And angry.”

Alucard observed the scepter with the same frown. He touched the sun symbol softly.

“It’s still warm.” He mumbled to himself. “This scepter, for some reason, seems to be reacting to your feelings.”

You lifted your gaze to his face for the first time in a surprised expression.

That made a lot of sense.

You were frightened when you first held it. Your head was running with similar intense emotions when this strange reaction happened again. Maybe he was right… the scepter needed to be fueled by strong emotions to release its magic, whatever it was. Perhaps it didn’t even need to be you specifically, but anyone going through something similar.

You inhaled before asking – and Heavens, were you tired of asking this same question over and over again:

“Do you have any idea of what might’ve happened?”

You weren’t brave enough to look down at the corpses again, but Alucard got the message.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment; his shoulders dropped a bit as he crossed his arms. He looked frustrated.

“I hate not knowing what’s happening as much as you do,” he confessed. “But this doesn’t feel like Speaker magic, although we’ll have to check with a real Speaker before jumping to conclusions. And it’s not fire, either.” He pressed his lips together in a thoughtful expression. “It is Sun. The scepter either has the ability to somehow store sunlight, or it can replicate it.”

You nodded. There was no other explanation: the vampires burned as if they were, indeed, standing under the sunlight. You had seen Richter’s fire magic; although it was unnaturally blue, his flames weren’t different from regular fire. They burned, but they didn’t provide light as much as the scepter did at that moment.

Alucard held his chin. He looked at nowhere in particular.

“Sekhmet is the daughter of the Egyptian Sun god, Amun-Ra. She’s related to the Sun in many ways.”

You looked down at the scepter again.

“Do you think this belonged to her?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It doesn’t look Egyptian. You didn’t find it at the Egyptian gallery, either. Though it might not mean much, since the palace wasn’t all too well organized.” He dropped his arms to the sides of his body once again. “Didn’t you say you were translating the writings to our alphabet? Can I have a look at it?”

You hesitated.

The paper was safely folded and stored inside the pocket of your vest. It was the first thing you took from the floor as soon as you stepped into the alley. You wrote it with the intention of Alucard reading it in the first place.

And yet – you didn’t want to show it anymore. At least not at that moment.

Your mind was burning, and it had nothing to do with magic this time. You were overwhelmed by a number of different things; the strong emotions you felt, this new discovery involving the scepter, the sheer frustration of not knowing exactly was going on with you…

...And the hug. Heavens, the hug.

You had stopped crying. Adrenaline had ran off. Now you could think with clarity – and the more you thought about the intimacy you shared with Alucard mere minutes ago, the more embarrassed you felt. Not because you didn’t like it… well, perhaps you felt this way because you liked it. 

Why were you feeling that way? It wasn’t the first time Alucard witnessed your vulnerability first hand. Oh… in fact, that was the reason. He had witnessed this vulnerability too many times in the span of 24 hours.

You felt weak. You felt like a nuisance. You felt like a child that had to be taken care of constantly.

That is not how you wanted Alucard – or anyone for that matter – to perceive you. But how could that be different when all you did the entire time you’d met them was getting hurt?

You desperately needed to avert his attention elsewhere. You needed him to stop looking at you for a moment, to focus somewhere else; you wanted to slide away from his view, to be nothing but an afterthought at the back of his mind. His gentle gaze burned. His soft touch burned. His scent which already permeated your clothes burned. Everything about him burned.

It burned in a different way than it did with Drolta or Erzsebet, however – because you didn’t hate him. Not at all. Alucard had shown nothing but respect and worry towards you.

And yet, it burned anyway, was overwhelming anyway, and that was disorienting. That was scary. You didn’t feel like you had the right to like it.

So you avoided his gaze once again and held the scepter tightly.

“Did everything go well with the Revolutionary Commune?” You asked in a quiet voice.

“...Yes,” Alucard clearly did not understand why you changed subjects so suddenly.

You nodded. “So I think this can wait for now. Can’t it?”

Alucard hesitated once again. “Ruby…”

“Please.” You reunited all of your will to not sound fragile anymore. You were tired of being fragile. “Erzsebet and her army are coming to Paris. This entire city needs to prepare. I know you already wasted way too much time with me. We should focus on what’s more important now.”

“You’re not a waste of time, Ruby.”

Your heart tightened.

Please, don’t be so kind to me. Don’t make me feel this way right now.

“B-But I’m right anyway. You know I’m right. Whatever is going on with me or this scepter – it’s not relevant anymore, not now that they retrieved the mummy.”

He kept silent for long seconds, which made you hold your breath with apprehension. Finally, Alucard sighed.

“Alright. We should go.” You almost sighed in relief. “Their headquarters have plenty of accommodations where you can rest in–“

“No!”

You finally looked at him again. You didn’t expect to blurt that out like this, but it escaped anyway. Alucard quirked one eyebrow up. You already felt heat creep in your cheeks.

“I don’t want to rest, I want to help. I’m not tired.”

He tilted his head to the side only slightly. A tiny, not-so-focused part of your brain remarked that this little quirk of his made him look like a curious owl. “You haven’t slept properly in three days and you have a high fever.”

“You haven’t slept, either. And the fever’s cooling down.” Why did they still insist in worrying about your physical condition? You shook your leg impatiently. “There must be something I can do, right? Anything.”

Anything to stop me from thinking about my healing condition and my unknown past and this strange scepter and my fear of being taken by Drolta again and remembering my old scars and to stop myself from wishing you’d hug me again right now and never let me go.

Alucard didn’t look sure about that yet.

You felt apprehensive and nervous and impatient.

You scooped the floor with your eyes quickly. Stepping away for a moment, you grabbed something on the floor before running towards him again.

You lifted the red string to his eye level.

“Do you still have yours?”

Alucard blinked. Then, he let another tired sigh and… smiled. That tiny smile he let slip when he thought you were acting funny.

He took his piece of red string from inside his coat.

“Care to help?”

You leaned the scepter on your chest, letting it go for a while, and took the string in your hands. You tied it around his right wrist while remembering that he could tie it himself very well – he had shown he could before – but chose to ask for help anyway and- well I guess this doesn’t mean anything.

Alucard tied your red string around your right wrist, too.

He held it softly for a second longer than necessary.

“If you feel anything strange, let me know.” Alucard asked. You nodded.

“I will.”

He patted your shoulder softly. “Come on.”

You followed him shortly, relieved that he wasn’t looking at you anymore – and, at the same time, desperately wishing he was. 

In less than two hours, the peaceful Parisian night descended into chaos.

Multiple guards ran through the streets on horseback, spreading the warning in loud voices, awakening the citizens from their sleep. Windows and doors were opened, confused and dazed heads peeking from them, trying to understand what was happening. The urgency of their voices made hearts beat faster and apprehension fill the air. Husbands locked their wives inside their houses; mothers tried to calm down their scared children.

Their message was clear: every healthy man was being summoned to defend the city. 

Soon, the Place de la Concorde was packed with a confused crowd. They wore a strange mix of pajamas and coats to protect them from the chilly night air; most faces, still puffy from sleep. Confused and anxious conversations hovered over the crowd. Mere hours ago, the last king of France had been executed on that same square. The platform of the guillotine was still set up. No one expected that another historical – and apocalyptical – event would unravel so soon.

At last, Robespierre stood up on the platform, and the entire crowd went silent. You didn’t know exactly who that man was, but he was certainly very respected. 

“My brothers and sisters,” he started, his voice rising over any other. “I summoned you all here tonight to bring appalling news. Yesterday, we won one more battle against the monarchy that chained us under their feet for years. Today, we face another great enemy. Our city is being threatened by foreign forces that want to lock us in chains once again…”

You doubted this Robespierre had any idea of who Erszebet Bathory truly was, but he wasn’t far from the truth… at least when it came down to you. The most positive side of you hoped the Vampire Messiah would forget about you now that she retrieved Sekhmet’s mummy (as morbid and wrong as it sounded), but another part of you was almost certain that she wouldn’t… be it for a plausible reason or her plain possessiveness over you. Erzsebet didn’t like to lose anything. She was like a spoiled kid who never let go of her favorite toy… and you’d been Erzsebet’s favorite toy for as long as you could remember.

You zoned out for a moment, not paying attention to much of Robespierre’s speech. Every pair of eyes was focused on him. Men and women, curious teenagers, homeless children – in fact, there were homeless people of all ages… their eyes filled with growing apprehension and fear of the menace the man on the platform described. If Erzsebet and her court succeeded, there were little chances of hope for them. Erzsebet would rejoice in their fear. She would bathe in the blood spilled. She would murder the ones she deemed unattractive and feed on the women she deemed attractive; she would “share” with her court. She would turn the ones she deemed worthy into vampires against their will. The men would either serve as entertainment or as slaves for manpower. Then, the ones that survived would learn to not fight and not scream and not cry. 

You knew the patterns very well.

No one should go through any of that. As much as you wished peace for yourself, as much as the incoming battle frightened you – the mere idea of being anywhere near Erzsebet or Drotla again and the understanding that they could and would take you back if everyone failed made your limbs go cold -, there was another feeling growing within you, too.

Anger.

It had always been there. Every second in Erzsebet’s presence was torture. You never respected her. You never felt any sympathy for her. You never thought she had any sort of quality at all. You knew that there was a time when your quarters were a literal cell in her palace’s underground, your clothes were rags, your food was just bread and water if there was any food at all. When you became docile and Erzsebet granted you privileges – a proper room, good food, beautiful gowns and jewels, compliments and compliments – your anger towards her did not decrease one bit. You never felt blessed or thankful over any of those “privileges”. 

You were always so busy trying to simply survive the torture that this fire didn’t have time to spread. Three days away from them was all it took for it to burn in every corner of your soul. 

You weren’t just angry. No, you hated her. Hated them. Every vampire from her court was as awful as her. You hated their smell and you hated how they had no respect for human life and you hated their pompous attires and parties and you hated the fact that you had to sit and watch as they killed hundreds of innocent humans in front of you, not having the power to do anything to stop them.

They had to pay.

You weren’t as strong as Annette or Richter or Alucard. You didn’t even know how to hold a bayonet or wield a sword. And yet, if there was anything you could do to help these people defeat her army, then you would. 

“…We will not subject to anyone who wants to imprison us!” Robespierre boasted. The crowd cheered; fear and apprehension were replaced by rage and motivation in front of your eyes as the man’s speech progressed. Fists raised in the air, screams and whistles of support popped here and there. “We will not allow any self proclaimed queen to sit on a throne atop of us again! We will not allow anyone to take our liberty away from us!”

Robespierre made a long pause, eyeing the crowd in all directions. It seemed that everyone held their breaths in anticipation.

Then – he raised his fist in the air.

“This self proclaimed queen will feel the taste of our iron and the weight of our freedom! Woe to the one that stands in our way. We will fight!”

The crowd exploded in cheers. 

More and more fists raised in the air, mirroring their leader. Vive la Révolution!, they chanted. 

You had to admit – Robespierre was great at giving speeches. You felt motivated yourself.

A sigh by your side caught your attention.

Alucard didn’t look very impressed. His golden eyes were as hard as stone. Underneath the severity of his expression, you also saw a slight hint of annoyance.

“What’s the problem?” You asked hesitantly. 

Alucard took a second to answer. He narrowed his eyes.

“I just don’t appreciate hypocrisy.” It didn’t look like he wanted to elaborate on that statement. “Come. We have to act before the heat of the speech vanishes.”

Indeed – the “heat” of the speech spread like true fire through the city, being carried by anyone that witnessed it. The Revolutionary Army took the lead, its generals reuniting to trace defensive strategies. 

And yet, none of these generals seemed to have the same level of authority Alucard had.

You watched from the back of the room, almost hidden (yes, you said you wanted to help, but at that moment you were the only woman present in the middle of soldiers and that was quite uncomfortable because you attracted a lot of attention for some reason) as all these generals listened to anything Alucard had to say. You didn’t know exactly what the white-haired vampire had done to gain their respect so quickly, but apparently, his first introduction left quite the impression.

Alucard was soft spoken. He didn’t raise his voice in any moment, keeping the same usual quiet but deep and husky tone – and that seemed to be much more effective than screaming, because it forced everyone else to be quiet. Whenever he spoke up, silence filled the room. It seemed no one had the courage to argue with him, though everything Alucard proposed was highly intelligent and you’d have to be a fool to disagree.

You doubted any of these men had been in the presence of a vampire before. Probably never talked to one, at least. However, it seemed that everyone understood that they weren’t talking to a simple man. Standing in the middle of these humans, it became even more clear how Alucard stood out, and not just in appearance. That was the intellect and way of speaking of a person that had lived much, much longer than the human brain could process. It seemed that everyone could feel it, even if they didn’t know Alucard’s true age. He exuded quiet authority, unyielding and highly intelligent. Once again, it reminded you of a mountain. It is silent, has been there for thousands of years; no one can move it.

Alucard looked very noble.

You remembered Richter’s words at the forest. Well, he does look like a prince.

You were glad his attention wasn’t upon you at that moment. You wouldn’t have been able to hide your awe very well if it was.

Around an hour later, the soldiers left the building to spread the strategies. What they needed the most, counting on the collaboration of every citizen:

Salt.

A lot of salt.

Sacks, boxes and buckets of salt were brought to the streets. The army provided weapons – swords, knives, rifles, gunpowder, bayonets and even cannons which were carried to the entries of the city. Every weapon should be wiped with salt.

You busied yourself with that.

Without asking permission, you knelt down in front of a crate full of swords, pulled a bucket of salt closer and started the process of applying salt to the blades. Then, you put the “salted” ones into another empty crate.

It was an obvious task, but it ended up calling more attention than you expected… maybe because, again, there weren’t many other women around the headquarters of the Revolutionary Commune. Most women and children were being led to the outskirts of the city or locked inside houses that had basements as part of the evacuation tactics. You vehemently ignored the looks sent in your direction and just kept working.

Some moments later, you noticed that a young man started imitating you. He sat on the sidewalk and took a crate of weapons himself.

And then another man joined.

And then an older woman.

You heard her husband try to shush her back home, but she sent him an annoyed look.

“I won’t sit down and watch everyone fight. If there’s something I can do, then I’ll do it.” She retorted. He wasn’t brave enough to argue with her any further.

You were glad someone else shared this feeling.

It seemed to awaken some sort of camaraderie in that street, at least. Before, only the men that intended to fight were busy with the preparations. Then, you started to notice more people joining in; women and elders. They brought water, food, fruits, helped carrying crates from place to place. 

Hours went by. You busied yourself with many other tasks after all the weapons were ready. The situation was beyond serious, but it was… nice. It was nice to be so busy doing something that you didn’t notice hours passing by. It was nice to help others. It was nice to not feel so useless for once. Under imprisonment, you didn’t have much to do other than sleeping. You weren’t used to this feeling of being so focused on a task that you could somehow brush your worries to the farthest corner of your mind, at least for some hours.

The sky got clear, but there was still much to be done. You only stopped for some minutes to eat an apple before going back to work.

“Aren’t you tired, mademoiselle?” One of the soldiers asked. He was probably around Richter’s age, which made you remember him and hope he was safe – but the similarities stopped there. This boy, Henri, was shorter and not even close to being as muscular as the Belmont. Curly ginger hair fell over his forehead; his fair skin was peppered by freckles. 

“I’m fine. Thank you for worrying,” you dismissed politely.

“Are you sure?” Another young soldier asked; his name was… Charles? Yes, you thought that was it. His hair was black and he was a tiny bit taller than Henri. “You’ve been working the entire night, mademoiselle. You should rest.”

“I don’t get tired easily,” you dismissed again, smiling awkwardly.

“Do you want water? Do you want to eat?” Another soldier asked… what was his name? You didn’t remember this one. “Please, if you need anything at all, let me know.”

“L-Let me know, too,” Henri, the ginger, intervened. Why did he send this other soldier a slightly annoyed look? “Actually, I asked her first.”

“And? I’m just worried about mademoiselle’s well being.” 

“I am more worried than you are.”

“I doubt it.”

You slipped away from them quietly before they could notice.

Well.

The men here seemed to be very eager to protect you.

All the attention you were receiving was awkward. You weren’t used to so many people wanting to talk to you. Especially not men. Erzsebet never let any men get too close to you for some reason. The guards that kept your quarters and dragged you to places weren’t allowed to talk to you.

These soldiers were… nice in an odd way.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to consider the intentions behind their kindness, because every time you looked at them, you thought of how low their chances of survival were.

You knew Erzsebet’s forces. She had many powerful vampires under her control, not to mention the night creatures. The Vampire Messiah herself was enough of a threat; whenever she summoned Sekhmet, it seemed that air got heavier, as if the atmosphere around her submitted to her power. You couldn’t even imagine how powerful she would be after reuniting with the second half of her soul…

The human forces, on the other hand…

A bunch of civilians wearing soldier uniforms didn’t make them real soldiers. And in between the soldiers, there were barely any warriors. Warriors have expertise in real battle. Warriors carry in their eyes and in their postures the readiness to kill – not because they like it, but because they understand that in order to keep, sometimes you have to take. A real warrior is easily spotted in a crowd.

Other than Alucard? There were barely any.

You doubted many of these men had ever killed a chicken, let alone a vampire.

You tried to be positive, but it was impossible as you distributed more uniforms on the street and analyzed the “soldiers”. A big line was formed in front of you. Smiley man after smiley man. You handed them the uniforms, trying to smile back, but it was quite impossible. Not muscular enough. Not enough callouses. This man is frightened. This man has no idea what he’s getting himself into. This man has awful posture. This man won’t last a second in the battlefield. This man… why did he wink at me?

It was so, so bad.

Maybe if the city had time to actually prepare, to reunite a real army instead of counting on its citizens last minute… maybe they’d have a chance then. Hell, you were trying to be positive, trying to not be frightened, but it was getting hard…

The sound of someone cleaning their throat caught your attention.

You lifted your gaze once again to an unknown man. He was short, wore simple clothes and had a lot of hair missing… but a kind smile adorned his features – kinder than most of the men that stood in front of you, actually.

You forced yourself to smile back and handed him another uniform. The man took it in his hands and inhaled.

“Mademoiselle,” he started, and it somehow caught the attention of the other men that stood nearby. None of them had really spoken to you, just resigning themselves to saying ‘thank you’ and leaving the line. “Y-Your efforts into helping all of us and your kind smile will be what fuels my courage in the battle to come.”

Completely taken by surprise, you froze and stared at him for some seconds.

“Uh… thank you,” your smile got awkward again. Why was everyone looking at you? That wasn’t very comfortable. “I-I mean– I am glad to be an incentive for you to fight, b-but your biggest motive should be to protect your freedom, isn’t it?”

The man got speechless for some reason.

Oh. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

You already felt your fingers shaking and your heart beating faster with embarrassment–

“Beautiful!”

What?

Another man behind in line said loudly. Why were his eyes glowing as he looked at you?

“Beautiful words!” He started clapping.

What?

“You are right, mademoiselle! What encouraging words!” Another man boasted.

“We are fighting for the liberty of our country!”

“Vive la Révolution!”

And then they were all chanting with their fists in the air.

You stood there with your mouth opened, not understanding what the hell just happened. Beautiful words? Weren’t you stating the obvious? You just wanted to take his attention away from you. Why did they all get so excited all of sudden?

What was wrong with these men?

But then, a familiar voice caught your attention, making you forget about the entire embarrassing situation completely.

Richter’s voice.

You turned around to see him and Annette approaching at fast steps.

Immediate relief washed over your body.

You looked around. The line was still pretty long… oh! There was Henri. You waved at him, and the boy approached like an excited puppy. “Would you take my place? Thank you,” you didn’t wait for him to reply, however, not did you notice that the other men waiting in line didn’t really like that you ran away from your position.

You met each other on the sidewalk.

“Are you guys okay? Did you get hurt?” You blurted out immediately as soon as you got close enough. Both of them looked tired, but other than that, no injuries.

“How are you asking that?” Richter seemed to be in disbelief. “Last time we saw you, you were bleeding to death. Are you okay?”

You instinctively looked down at your own body and extended your arms, as if to show them that there were no wounds.

“I’ve healed,” you said with simplicity. Because it was that simple, and you didn’t understand why they didn’t understand that yet.

It didn’t seem to ease any of Annette’s guilt.

That was what you wanted the least.

The girl in yellow dropped her shoulders, the corners of her mouth turned downwards.

“I am so sorry, Ruby,” her voice was somewhat shy. “Because of me, you got hurt. I… I should’ve been more careful…”

She looked up at you again when you rested your hand on her shoulder hesitantly.

You weren’t good with physical touch, but that seemed appropriate at the moment.

“That’s not what happened.” You started in a calm voice. In fact, that was the most level headed you’ve ever heard yourself… where was that coming from? “I jumped in front of you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I did it. There’s nothing to feel guilty about.”

Annette seemed a bit surprised by your actions. Well, you were surprised, too. But it seemed to ease whatever she was feeling, even if just a bit; she managed to offer you a tiny smile.

Richter put his hands on each side of his waist and looked around with a frown. “The city is in chaos. What happened?”

“Robespierre called for all citizens to join battalions in their neighborhoods.”

This new voice startled you slightly.

You hadn’t noticed Alucard approaching. You knew he was close – in fact, he stood somewhere around you the entire time; Alucard himself was too busy, but he was always somewhere in your field of view, although you didn’t really interact the entire time.

“Legions of volunteers are taking positions around the city,” he concluded. It was interesting how his voice became just a tiny bit less dull now compared to when he talked to soldiers or other unknown people.

“Do you think they’re ready for what’s coming?” Richter asked.

Alucard hesitated.

You exchanged a knowing look.

They weren’t. He knew it. You knew it. But… that was all you had for now.

He looked back at Richter with his eyebrows slightly turned upwards. “...An impassioned speech can make even the weakest man believe he’s brave.”

There was no better way to describe the current situation.

Richter and Annette eyed each other. The Belmont boy seemed to hesitate for a moment and cleared his throat as if building up courage – and then you remembered that the last time he saw Alucard, they weren’t exactly on good terms.

“So… I know things didn’t work out at the Louvre, but maybe all isn’t lost.”

Alucard quirked one eyebrow up. You held your breath in anticipation.

“I have a plan, and I think it’s going to work,” it was Annette’s turn to speak.

“If we work together,” Richter concluded.

The white-haired vampire observed them in silence for some moments, while the three of you looked at him in anticipation back.

Finally, he closed his eyes for a moment and nodded.

“Very well. What’s your plan?”

The Tailleur de Jordan was a small establishment you had hidden your scepter the night before, just two streets away from there. As the citizens were being evacuated, places like that were empty and ready to use. It would be perfect for what Annette needed to do – though it immediately filled you with worry.

“That was what the spirits were trying to tell you?” You asked.

Annette nodded. “...I believe so. It’s difficult to be certain about anything, but this is the best chance we have.” Alucard unlocked the door and stepped aside. Annette walked in first. “This will do,” she stated after a quick look.

The tailor shop was small. It had a couple of chairs, a large windowsill, a table, a desk, cabinets filled with all types of fabric in multiple colors, threads, needles, scissors… it had somewhat of a cozy atmosphere. You hoped whoever owned it was somewhere safe – and you hoped they’d survive the incoming battle to take this place back.

As the two men pushed furniture from the center of the room, you rushed to find Annette some chalk. When you turned around to hand it to her, she was eyeing the scepter with curiosity. It was leaning on a table in the corner of the room, exactly where you left it.

She looked at you with one quirked eyebrow.

“...It’s hard to explain,” you said.

Annette shrugged and took the white chalk from your hand.

She knelt on the floor and started to draw an intricate symbol you’d never seen before. It resembled a fleur de lis, though it was much more complicated. After she finished, she put the chalk aside and sat in front of it with crossed legs.

Then, she took a deep breath.

“My soul may be away from my body for a while,” she explained quietly.

Richter folded a piece of fabric and placed it behind her, offering Annette a gentle smile, before sitting by her side on the floor.

“Just in case.”

She reciprocated his smile.

You sat down on a chair in the corner of the room beside the scepter, watching the entire scene in silence. Alucard stood near them in the other side of it.

Annette looked down again. For the first time, you saw a hint of fear in her eyes… and you felt fear for her, too. She was going to walk into a path where no one could follow or help her. She’d be truly alone in this – and if she failed, then you’d really have no chance. You already knew the “army” out there was hopeless.

“Cécile always warns that our souls mustn’t get lost in the spirit world,” she explained in that same quiet tone.

“What happens if they do?” Alucard asked.

“...I will never wake up.”

Richter gasped.

He rested his hand over hers. And then… it was happening again. That intimacy they shared that made you feel like an intruder. It seemed that, in these moments, they were alone – but in a delicate, pure way; it wasn’t as if they were ignoring you and Alucard. They were simply… too lost in each other to care about anything else.

It was beautiful to witness, in a way.

“We’ll be here. Don’t be afraid.” Richter’s voice was barely a whisper. “Maybe it’ll help you find your way back.”

They exchanged a final sweet look before the Belmont moved away.

Annette inhaled deeply. She pressed her hands together in a praying position and closed her eyes before chanting something in a language you didn’t understand.

She chanted a few times. Her voice got slower. She opened her eyes – but they seemed empty.

“Annette?” Richter called.

She stopped talking. Her body stopped moving. Her chest moved almost imperceptibly – the calm breathing of someone asleep. Her eyes were opened, but she wasn’t seeing anything anymore.

Her soul was gone.

It was a chilling sight to witness.

Richter held her hand. He knew she wasn’t there anymore, but he kept repeating “I’ll be here” anyway.

The care he had for her was deeper than you first assumed…

You crossed your arms and rested your back on the chair. It wasn’t going to be a fast process. So… there was nothing you could do but wait.

Wait…

And wait.

A part of Sekhmet’s soul must be in the spirit world, Annette had explained. If I find it and retrieve it, we may have a chance.

A third part of Sekhmet’s soul…

If Annette was right, than it’s impossible that Drolta didn’t know about it already. She was the goddess’ priestess, after all. Could it be that she tried to retrieve this third part of Sekhmet’s soul before? Maybe it was impossible for her, as it was a spiritual journey, not physical. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t succeed and kept looking for Sekhmet’s mummy.

Time went by. Minutes turned to an hour. Richter walked from side to side nervously, biting his nails, while you and Alucard didn’t move or talk at all. After a few more minutes, Alucard approached and leaned on the wall beside you with his arms crossed.

“You should try to sleep for now.”

You looked up at him and shook your head.

“I’m not sleepy.”

He sent a side eye at your blatant lie. “I’ll repeat it. You haven’t slept properly in almost four days.”

“You haven’t slept at all in almost four days, either.”

“And I can keep awake for much longer. How about you?”

...You’d never been awake for this long, actually. He got you.

You sighed and crossed your arms, sinking in the chair even more. “I don’t want to sleep. What if something important happens?”

“He won’t be quiet about it. You’ll wake up in no time,” Alucard said jokingly.

“I heard that,” Richter almost pouted. It seems he didn’t really like when both of you chuckled at him.

You dropped your voice to a whisper, hoping Richter wouldn’t hear you from the other side of the room.

“Don’t be mean to him.”

Alucard paused.

You had the strong impression he wanted to roll his eyes but held himself back. The white-haired vampire sighed and tilted his head to the side.

“I won’t if you sleep for a bit.”

It was your turn to let a deep sigh. “No promises.”

“No promises on my part, either.”

He sent you a last lighthearted look, the hint of a smile on his lips, before walking back to the windowsill.

The thing is, your eyelids were heavy. But you genuinely didn’t want to miss anything. One week ago, your life was basically a long, confusing sleep; it was the first time you’d been awake for so long, experiencing so many new things – good and bad – and it was the first time your mind was so clear. No memory lapses, no confusion; you knew where you were all the time, there were no blank spaces in between events. You didn’t want it to go away. If Alucard could keep awake for much longer, you could too, right? Maybe your brain would heal the sleep. Maybe if you pushed a little longer you wouldn’t feel tired anymore–

Pitch black.

“Come back here!”

You run around the alleys after that little rat. Heavens, why does ??? have to be so disobedient?! Although he’s screaming, you’re pretty sure he likes being chased like this. He loves pissing you off for some reason.

But his legs are much shorter than yours, and without much effort, you grab him by the collar.

??? looks at you with the round eyes of a scared pup.

“What are you doing here?!” You hiss, crouching down to get to his eye level and holding him by both arms. “I told you over a hundred times, you’re not allowed inside!”

“I was curious!”

“I don’t care!” ??? shrieks at your loud reprimands. You can’t bring yourself to soften; he has to understand that his actions have consequences once and for all. “There are places you’re not allowed to get in! Do you want me to get into trouble because of you?!”

??? crosses his arms and looks down, pouting. “I-I just wanted someone to play with!”

You huff and roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You have plenty of friends. You can’t fool me with that.” He sticks his tongue out at you; you ruffle his hair violently in return. “Go back home right now. And if I catch you here again, I’ll hang you by your feet and let you dry in the sun like a peace of meat. Did you understand?!”

“You’re annoying! I hate you!”

??? runs off. You gasp out loud, outraged.

“I’ll kill you when I get home!”

You woke up with a soft gasp.

For some seconds, you were completely disoriented. You blinked several times, trying to understand what was happening.

Oh.

You were exactly on the same spot as before. Sitting on the wooden chair. A long, soft fabric was put over your body, serving as a blanket.

...You ended up sleeping, after all.

And for a long time.

You knew it not only because your body ached from sleeping while sitting in a hard wooden chair – your neck was especially painful –, but because the Sun was gone. Judging by the height of the moon in the sky, it was already a little over midnight. It brightly illuminated the entire tailor shop through the large window, bathing it in silver light; one candle was lit over the desk, but it wasn’t really necessary.

You massaged your neck, frowning, and looked to your right side. Richter was sleeping over the desk right beside you, snoring softly and drooling a bit. It made you chuckle. Annette hadn’t moved a centimeter. You wondered if she’d feel pain when she “came back”; not moving for so many hours, not drinking water or eating…

“You should sleep a bit more.”

Alucard’s quiet voice reached your ears and immediately made you shiver… for some reason. He was being quieter than usual as to not wake Richter up or disturb Annette.

The white-haired vampire was comfortably sitting on the windowsill with his arms crossed, one of his legs over the wooden platform. The usual serenity adorned his features. Moonlight bathed him directly through the window, making his hair look like strands of pure braided silver. His long eyelashes cast a soft shadow over his golden eyes.

You rubbed your eyes and forehead. Of course, you were trying to brush the sleep away, but you also were trying to pretend his sole image didn’t make your stomach feel funny.

“I already slept too much,” you whispered back.

Alucard observed you in silence for some seconds. He pointed at something with his finger; a basket with some apples right beside Richter’s head.

Sure. You needed to eat. You haven’t had lunch at all. You held one of the apples and took a bite.

You munched in silence for some moments.

A silent battle took place within you.

You… wanted to approach him. You hadn’t really talked the entire day, too busy in your tasks to have a moment – and as stupid as it was because, well, he’d been near you the entire time, you… missed him. But you didn’t know if you should approach him at all. What if Alucard didn’t want to be disturbed? There was no reason for you to leave your spot in the room.

The hesitance only got worse because now, every time you looked at him, you remembered the hug. It was so comforting at that moment… why did you feel so embarrassed of yourself about it now? Alucard took the initiative to hug you first. There was nothing wrong with that, was it? Wasn’t it common for friends to hug each other? Well, you never had a friend before, you couldn’t tell if it was true...

Were you his friend in the first place? Did Alucard consider you a friend?

The truth is… you felt that something shifted in your “relationship” with him since that hug, even if it was all just in your head. You couldn’t tell exactly what. Maybe you were acting like a fool. Alucard probably didn’t stop to think about it even once.

You took another bite.

Alucard wouldn’t be mean to you, would he? He hadn’t been until that point. Not even once. So, why were you hesitating?

You gulped and got up from the chair.

Still holding the blanket, you crossed the room, tip toeing to not make much noise. Your eyes were glued on Annette’s immobile figure, both because you didn’t want to touch her by accident and because you didn’t want to make eye contact with Alucard yet. You knew he was watching you.

You sat on the other side of the windowsill, facing him. As the window was large, it was a considerable distance, which made the situation a bit less awkward for you. You put both legs over the windowsill and brought your knees close to your body, covering them with the blanket.

The only sound filling the room was of Richter’s soft snoring and your quiet munching.

It was peaceful. You didn’t expect you’d feel any peace in the hours that preceded the hell that would unleash upon the city. It was even a bit ironic how beautiful the moon looked that night.

After finishing eating the apple, you placed the stem aside and stayed in silence for some more minutes.

It took courage to speak up.

“Do you think they still need help out there?” Your voice was quiet.

Alucard didn’t take his eyes off the window.

“We already did everything we could to help them.” His deep, husky voice sounded even more soothing than usual for some reason. It was truly admirable how relaxed he could be in that moment, considering what awaited you in the near future. “They have all the instructions. They’ll know what to do.”

It was kind of him to include you in this. Your “help” wasn’t as significant as his; Alucard not only gave instructions, but led the entire defensive strategy. But you decided not to feel bad about that… not at that moment.

You put your hands over your knees and adjusted your posture a bit better.

“...Can I ask you something?”

Alucard turned his gaze to you for the first time, nodding.

“What did you mean back there at the square? When you said you don’t appreciate hypocrisy?”

The white-haired vampire exhaled softly; his expression got a tiny bit tense. You were under the impression he was expecting you to ask something else…

“That whole speech about liberty.” He started. His voice became more serious, a slight hint of annoyance once again. “It’s all surface level, you see. Very selfish. They talk about fighting for freedom whilst still keeping colonies under their power, refusing to let them be independent.” Alucard’s eyes landed on Annette. “Annette’s home country, Saint-Domingue, is one of these colonies. They are currently battling for independence over there. Annette herself was a slave; she had to fight for her own freedom.”

You widened your eyes and immediately looked at her as well.

Annette used to be a slave?!

Suddenly – many things about her started to make sense. The mark on her right hand… her words to you at the forest; “I understand how you feel”, she said. “Those people… they keep haunting you. On your sleep, or even when you’re awake”, she said.

“To be truly freed is to not be afraid.”

You tightened your hands on the blanket. Annette… she really could understand you better than anyone else. And she still came to this country to fight for the people that wouldn’t fight for her…

“Why did she even agree to help them?” You wondered in disbelief.

“She understands that Erzsebet will become a much bigger menace to the whole world if she’s not stopped in time.” Alucard tightened his eyes. “The people of France, like Richter and Maria, aren’t wrong for fighting against the monarchy. But it’s the leaderships of the Revolution that are hypocrites. If it’s not liberty for all, then it’s no liberty at all.”

You looked at Annette again.

She was so much stronger than you imagined… not only because she was a powerful witch or because she was, at that moment, wandering alone in the spirit world; Annette had a noble soul. She was strong enough to overcome her fears and fight for herself.

You wondered if you’d be like her one day.

You wanted to be like her.

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

Well… if you wanted to be like her, you’d have to overcome your fears, too. And your hesitancy.

You hugged your own legs and stared at the fabric of the blanket, gathering the courage to speak these next words out loud. If you spoke them, they would become more real. A part of you was scared of that fact.

“I… I think I have a son.”

Alucard immediately whipped his head at your whispered confession.

Although he was visibly surprised, he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

“...Or a brother. I’m not sure.”

The white-haired vampire narrowed his eyes; he was the one that seemed to hesitate now, choosing his words carefully. “What makes you think that?”

You scratched your head nervously and frowned. “This dream I just had. I barely ever dream about anything… my sleep is usually empty. B-But I dreamed of this little boy that looks like me and…”

And I loved him.

I loved the little boy I saw in my dream with all my heart. I missed him the moment I opened my eyes and realized he wasn’t real.

You gulped, passed your hand over your face again. “Or maybe I’m still emotional over what happened to Oliver. I don’t know.” You shook your head, immediately feeling regret and embarrassment for admitting something so personal. Why would Alucard want to know about that anyway? “F-Forget about it. Just a dream, right? I guess it’s not important…”

“If it’s important to you, then it’s important.” Alucard held his chin and looked down, pensive. “Perhaps your memories are coming back in the form of dreams.”

It was a bit amazing how Alucard could reassure you with a blank expression on his face – as if he didn’t understand the impact his words had on you. You looked down at your knees again, that familiar heat already increasing on the back of your neck and cheeks.

“I-Is it common?” You tried to act like his words didn’t make you feel even more emotional.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell. I’ve… never suffered of memory loss before.” He shrugged. “But the mind works in mysterious ways, especially if we consider that your memories might’ve been taken away by magic.”

You exhaled and grabbed some strands of hair at the top of your head nervously again, as if trying to forcefully grab a memory from your brain.

“Why can’t I remember relevant things? Or at least straightforward things?” You whined to yourself. “Small, useless things come to me, but nothing that could help me find out who I am.”

Alucard leaned forward slightly, seeming interested.

“What type of things do you remember?” He asked softly.

You hummed.

“...I can’t call these things memories. They’re more like… things I know. Like…” You pressed your lips together. “I know the difference between a poisonous mushroom and an edible one. No one taught me that, I just know it. Or… there’s many animals I know of, though I don’t remember ever seeing them before. And…”

You looked out the window towards the sky. Alucard watched you with curiosity.

You pointed towards a specific star.

“That’s Mars.” Alucard looked subtly surprised. “Right in the middle of the Gemini constellation. Pollux, Castor…” You searched for something else in the sky. “And there… Betelgeuse, Bellatrix... the Orion constellation. And right over there–“ You pointed a bit downwards. “That’s Jupiter, in the middle of Taurus. And that star right beside it… it’s…” Your frown deepened and you hummed, trying to remember its name. “It’s…”

“Aldebaran.”

You looked back at Alucard.

He had the tiniest of the smiles on his lips.

“Yes. Aldebaran.” You confirmed, unable to hide your tiny smile that mirrored his.

“That’s why you look at the night sky so much? You were remembering?”

Oh.

You didn’t know Alucard paid attention to that.

You averted your gaze from his, trying to hide your shyness. “M-My point is: why do I remember these small things, and nothing more relevant… like where do I come from or my real name?”

Alucard leaned his back on the wall once more and looked out the window. You watched as serenity took the lead over his features again – being accompanied by quiet sorrow. That was new. You hadn’t seen him show an expression like that before.

...He looked quite vulnerable at that moment.

“My father… was many things,” he began, which immediately surprised you and locked all your attention over him. Alucard was finally letting one more piece of information about him; these moments were rare. You cherished them deeply. His voice was featherlight, mirroring the quiet vulnerability of his expression. “A scholar, a philosopher, an alchemist… and he was also an astronomer. He was passionate about the stars.”

A small sad smile appeared on his lips.

That was another new expression.

That was the same man that led an entire room full of generals with unyielding authority; the same man you’d seen kill vampires ruthlessly. A real warrior. And yet, at that moment, locked inside this small tailor shop with no more witnesses other than you, Alucard was letting himself be fragile for a moment.

Perhaps it was inappropriate of you to think this way – but at that moment, with the silver moonlight kissing his saddened image, he had never looked more beautiful.

The intricate paintings you’d seen at the Louvre did not compare to him.

“He taught me all about it when I was a child,” Alucard continued softly. “Constellations. Comets. Planets… I never forgot any of it.” He closed his eyes for a moment before looking down. “What I mean with that is… I don’t really use this knowledge in my life other than to know the seasons of the year. Some magicians are benefited by the positions of celestial bodies, but they don’t affect the type of magic I use. And yet…” He finally looked up at you again. “This knowledge isn’t small or useless to me; because it was taught by someone I loved.”

For some reason, you felt your heart ache at his words.

Of course, you understood what he meant; he was trying to help, to change your perspective, to not deem that your simple “knowledge” was useless. However, what you noticed the most was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the quiet longing. You remembered, once again, the fact that Alucard was centuries old. Still, he visibly talked about his father with some sort of affection. Longing.

...He’d been missing someone for centuries?

But you remembered, once again, that his father was Dracula. The name that evoked primal fear in you; the vampire that, according to Richter, almost wiped out mankind. He must’ve been as dangerous as Erzsebet or even worse. Even so, Alucard seemed to miss him… it made the whole situation so much more painful.

Did Alucard have to kill someone he loved…?

Why did it make you so sad?

Maybe it wasn’t that serious to him; maybe it was a scar that had already healed long ago. Maybe you were being too emotional again. But the simple idea of Alucard having to go through something so horrible ached. You… you wished there was something you could do for him. If you could comfort him the way he comforted you so many times.

...You wondered if he’d mind if you came closer. If he’d be surprised if you draped your arms around his shoulders; if he’d push you away if you made him rest his head on your chest, the same way he did to you yesterday. You wondered if he’d appreciate if you held him like that; if he’d like if you caressed his hair, tangling your fingers on his silvery strands. You… you wondered if it would make him feel a bit better. If he’d sigh, if he would cage his arms around your waist and reciprocate it.

You didn’t just wonder it; you craved it. Because as much as his touch and his gaze and his eyes burned, you craved that burn. It wouldn’t hurt you – at least, not in the ways you were used to.

It was scary.

If you were a little more brave, you would’ve moved. You would’ve made your imagination come true.

...But once again, you were reminded that there wasn’t time for any of that.

You felt a cold shiver run your spine, which immediately snapped you out of your trance. What surprised you, however, is that you weren’t the only one; Alucard also frowned and immediately straightened his posture, putting both feet on the floor again.

Both of you turned to Annette.

Both of you watched in quiet shock when she started to float in the air, keeping her meditation position.

Both of you stood up.

“...Is this normal?” You whispered.

“I don’t know.” He whispered back.

“What do we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“I should wake–“

“No.” Alucard held your arm softly before you took one more step. “Let the boy sleep. There’s nothing he can do, either. He’ll just be even more stressed.”

You gulped and nodded, sitting on the windowsill again and hoping that whatever battle Annette was facing, she’d be strong enough to win.

Hours went by. The sun raised in the sky again – and with him, apprehension beyond words.

Before, Richter was the only one walking from side to side and biting nails; now, you felt like a pile of anxiety yourself, watching as Annette didn’t send any sign that she was close to coming back. Two hours ago, she had gasped for a moment as if she was underwater; after that, her expression went back to being blank and she stopped levitating, her body slowly getting down on the floor again.

No more reactions after that.

The streets were packed with soldiers once more. You looked out the window and back to her nervously. What if she got lost in the spirit world? What if she never came back?

Even Alucard was beginning to show hints of anxiety. He chose to stay in the same spot by the window, but his eyes wandered outside as well. He had taken responsibility over the entire operation, after all. Despite what he said past night, you knew he also worried for everyone.

You stopped beside him with crossed arms. Richter couldn’t stay still for a moment. The three of you watched Annette in silence.

You didn’t want Richter to hear your question. Hell, you didn’t want to voice that yourself – but it had to be asked at some point.

“Alucard, what if… what if she…” you whispered; yet, you weren’t brave enough to finish that sentence.

What if she doesn’t make it?

Alucard understood anyway.

“We’ll fight.” He replied with simplicity. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

You closed your eyes for a moment. Annette never coming back… Erzsebet possessing the true power of Sekhmet… all the unprepared soldiers out there… you were experiencing the worst case scenario. You wished there was something else you could do. Anything to help her.

Minutes went by. Minutes. Minutes…

You… started to feel a strange weakness in the pit of your stomach.

Your legs felt wobbly. It wasn’t due to hunger or anxiety this time; you knew it. This sensation was familiar – albeit much weaker than the other times you had felt it.

You gasped and turned around to face the window.

“No.” You whispered in disbelief.

Alucard and Richter were surprised by your sudden reaction; then, they focused on the window as well.

On the sky.

The sun was beginning to be covered by a shadow.

Slowly, the sky got a sickening red color as the eclipse progressed; sunlight was starting to vanish. You heard rushed voices and screams out there, people running on the streets, locking themselves inside their homes, soldiers yelling orders. A sentiment of fear grew almost palpable over the whole city.

Alucard’s suspicions were right.

With the second half of Sekhmet’s soul, Erzsebet did not need you anymore to summon an eclipse.

You already knew he was most certainly right, but you foolishly tried to be positive. Maybe she won’t be able to summon an eclipse anyway.

All your thin hopes were shattered.

It was impossible to ease your aching heart or calm your shaking hands. The eclipse was the bad omen that indicated her approach. Was Erzsebet close by already? Was her army marching near the borders of Paris?

You couldn’t take your eyes off the window anymore or shut your loud mind – and that’s why you didn’t notice Richter calling Annette behind you.

Suddenly – heat.

You turned around in a jump in time to see Annette being involved in golden light.

Richter was sent flying back and hit his back against a cabinet. Wind made everyone’s clothes and hair sway; you had to protect your eyes with your arm to not be blinded. It became hot hot hot hot inside the atelier; you felt goosebumps roam your skin, your stomach drop, a certain dizziness – the effects of standing near so much power.

Finally – the light diminished. You put your arm down slowly and opened your eyes.

A shocked gasp escaped past your lips.

Annette levitated in the air some centimeters away from the floor; her hair suddenly got longer, her braids cascading over her shoulders like a beautiful lion’s mane. She wore an ancient Egyptian red attire adorned with details in gold. Her closed eyes were painted with blue and red kohl. She had a golden aura around her; the temperature inside the atelier increased significantly.

She carried so much power that the air trembled.

“...Annette?” Richter called hesitantly – but you already knew, and he knew as well, that this wasn’t Annette anymore.

“Where is she?” she spoke; her voice was distorted – beyond her normal voice, there was another female voice speaking upon it, too.

Annette finally opened her eyes. They looked like ponds of pure melted gold; her pupils, vertical like a cat’s.

“Where is this Erzsebet?” she demanded with the authority of a queen.

No… not a queen. A goddess.

Annette wasn’t in front of you anymore. Sekhmet was.

It made all the tiny hairs in your arms and at the back of your neck raise; your breath got difficult. This sensation was familiar – you had witnessed Erzsebet being possessed by Sekhmet’s power before. And yet, it felt slightly different now. The fear wasn’t accompanied by menace or cruelty. It felt more like witnessing a raging tornado coming towards you.

Annette had succeeded.

Great, this was great. Your chances in battle increased significantly with such a powerful ally; more importantly, Annette was alive. Maybe the goddess had possessed her body for a while, but it meant that her consciousness was still there somehow, maybe watching everything in the back of her mind…

Annette– Sekhmet extended her arms, watching everything with a high chin.

“My three souls must be rejoined and the cosmic balance restored,” she said in that same chilling, proud tone. “Though this mortal vessel might be too fragile for the souls of a god.”

Richter tightened his fists; sweat dripped down his temples. You’d never seen him look so worried as in that moment. The Belmont boy stepped forward.

“We will lead you to her. Erzsebet is coming to this city.”

Sekhmet did not show any reaction. It was a bit unsettling to see Annette’s face carrying that ferocious, yet soulless expression–

But then, she laid eyes on you for the first time.

Her gaze was piercing. It made you feel exposed for some reason; as if she was able to see inside of you, inside your soul.

Her eyes scanned your face, then laid on your chest for some moments.

Sekhmet frowned like a feral cat.

It was the first facial expression she showed.

“She must not be close to me.”

You froze in place, absolutely speechless.

W...What?!

Both Alucard and Richter looked from Sekhmet to you rapidly, as shocked as you. What did she mean? Why couldn’t you be close to her? She– She didn’t like you? Did it have anything to do with your involvement with Erzsebet? What was the problem?!

“Don’t make me repeat myself, human,” Sekhmet hissed again, this time addressing Richter; the tailor shop trembled at her anger. Alucard was the only one that didn’t flinch or move. “Where is this Erzsebet?! Lead me to her!”

Richter looked back at you one more time, sending you an apologetic look. The goddess was impatient – and it wasn’t a good idea to make her wait, especially while she inhabited Annette’s body. No one had any idea if it’d be harmful for her to be possessed for so long.

The Belmont boy gulped and walked towards the door, unlocking it and walking out. Sekhmet followed him, levitating out of the atelier.

You stood there, shell-shocked, not knowing how to react.

Alucard’s touch took you out of that state.

He put both hands over your shoulders, blocking the sight of the floating goddess out there and forcing you to lock all of your attention on him. Severity weighed on his features; he had an accentuated frown, his jaw was tightened. And yet, he somehow still looked down at you with care.

“It’d already be best for you to keep out of sight,” his tone indicated that he was not willing to debate this.

You tightened your fists, your shoulders dropped. You knew he was right regardless of Sekhmet’s demand. You knew you didn’t know how to wield a sword or a rifle; you knew you’d be useless in battle. You weren’t a powerful magician or a warrior like these two. You weren’t even like the civilians in uniforms out there – they’d be more useful than you.

But even so… even so…

Alucard cupped your cheek softly.

Maybe it was the fact that you weren’t in panic as you were before that made his gesture burn right away. It burned burned burned much more than Sekhmet’s hot power out there; it spread warmth through your body, made your chest tighten. Heavens, it burned so much; his caring gaze, his gentle touch, his sweet smell… everything burned–

But oh god – how you wanted to burn in this fire.

The rushed voices and steps out there got muffled. It seemed that time itself slowed down for a moment while you looked into each other’s eyes.

“I’ve failed you two times before,” Alucard said in a smooth, yet determined tone; his thumb caressed your cheek gently. “I promise I won’t fail you again. Erzsebet and Drolta won’t get anywhere near you.”

You didn’t know what to answer.

Alucard was the first person to ever stand up for you; the first person to ever protect you, to make you feel safe. Yes, maybe you were being too emotional. Maybe you were letting your emotions take the lead instead of sanity. But how could you not feel this affection towards him in situations like this?

You believed him. You trusted him.

You nodded.

Alucard managed to offer you a small smile. He let go of your cheek and held your wrist softly, passing his finger over the red string. He still wore his.

“Remember.” He patted his finger over it. You nodded yet again.

When Alucard stepped back, the world started moving at the normal pace again. The noises became clear. The city was loud now – and you felt incredibly cold.

He sent you a last significant gaze before turning around and leaving the atelier, closing the door behind him.

And then – you were alone.

Minutes went by. You walked from side to side with crossed arms. The city was painted in an eerie red hue due to the eclipse; you saw many soldiers running through the window. You tried to calm down, control your breathing, focus on a single thing– but fuck, you couldn’t. Not anymore.

You hoped Alucard, Richter and Annette were safe – especially Annette. You hoped everything would get solved fast so the goddess could leave her body. You hoped Richter would find the strength to fight. You hoped Alucard would succeed in his strategy. You hoped the civilians out there, courageously wearing uniforms and standing up to fight for their families, would survive; as many as possible, at least.

You hoped there was something you could do.

You sat on the windowsill and leaned your head on both hands, gripping your hair nervously. You couldn’t help but shake. You knew Alucard was right; you didn’t want to get hurt or to cross ways with Drolta or Erzsebet. He was being rational. He was correct.

But even so… even so–

Your thoughts got interrupted by the sound of an explosion.

The floor shook. Multiple screams echoed in the night, followed by shots. More explosions – these were somewhere near, probably a few streets away; you heard more distant explosions too. Cannons being ignited.

The battle had started.

You got up again, unable to control your anxiety. More screams more shots more explosions more earthquakes. The sky lightened up with different colors – blue and red and yellow – for a few seconds. Your heart raced, sweat already covered your forehead, your fingers trembled. Pure chaos had unleashed upon the city.

Erzsebet and Drolta were somewhere out there fighting.

This perception frightened you, made you want to dig a hole on the ground and hide there forever. You couldn’t be seen or caught by them – death felt like a more merciful future, but you couldn’t die, and that was the problem.

At the same time, another feeling increased. Burned.

Anger.

And urgency.

Everyone was fighting out there. Everyone was contributing somehow, putting their lives on the line. Humans against vampires and night creatures; they were much more courageous than you were. All of them were risking their fragile mortal lives. You were reminded of how easy it is for a human to die – while you, with this strange healing condition, were hidden there, too scared to get hurt.

You were tired of feeling useless and even more tired of feeling scared.

Fuck, there should be something you could do! Anything actually useful. You held your head again, once more hating your stupid empty brain, wishing you could find a relevant memory despite what Alucard said before–

Your eyes stopped on the scepter.

It was in the corner of the room exactly were you left it. You weren’t brave enough to touch it again.

You stood there and stared at it.

Explosions. Screams. Earthquakes. Shots. Multiple steps. Everything had a red tone to it. You kept your eyes locked on the golden artifact, the symbol of the sun; you stared and stared and stared and–

You remembered.

Once again – it wasn’t exactly a memory. It was more of a feeling; a knowledge. The scepter seems to be reacting to your feelings, Alucard said that time. It shone and burned the three vampires alive as if they were standing under the sun.

You somehow caused this reaction.

And at that moment, something deep within you told you that you could make that again.

You could make it bigger.

Your fists tightened. You gulped and straightened your posture.

Alucard told you to keep out of sight. Sekhmet said you shouldn’t be near her.

But you looked out the window and saw these soldiers running with rifles in hand; the fragility of their lives didn’t stop them from fighting. Maybe there was something you could do. Maybe you could help them somehow in a truly effective way.

You crossed the room and held the scepter; it was cold, lifeless. You’d find a way to make it work again – you had too. You stood in front of the door, your hand hovering over the doorknob. It was shaking.

You closed your eyes for a moment.

You were scared. You were frightened.

But Annette’s voice echoed in the back of your mind:

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You opened your eyes, turned the doorknob and ran out of the atelier shop – stepping into the red chaos.

[fanfics-with-coffee]

Wants

More ramblings of an insomniac, still not proofread but i wanna throw this out here. We're back on our smut roll as well!

No one really cared what Astarion wanted or didn't want to do. He'd stopped resisting at some point, just letting whomever had higher status overrule him even when it came to his own body. But you, you didn't do that. You never asked him to do something he didn't want. So he asked himself; what did he want? You. He wanted you. Could he have you?

Genre: Smut Pairing: Astarion x (fem)reader Kinks: PiV, little bit of orgasm control, biting, marking, dirty talk Words: 7400+ Need something to listen to? This is what I listened to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XkxtmnNB3RI55o414xpdx?si=ef01f7ab913f4a26

Astarion wouldn’t say that you liked him per se, it’s doubtful you even enjoyed his company unlike how you enjoyed the company of say Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet you couldn’t possibly dislike him either, after all; who let’s a vampire drink from them if you didn’t at least tolerate him. 

“Is he yours? He’s quite handsome, that can’t be a coincidence, you know how to pick them.” Her eyes scanned him, a smile tugging at her lips as he seemed to evaluate his very existence.

“...You mean Astarion? I didn’t pick him, he’s here ‘cus he wants to be. Besides, if I knew him beforehand it’s doubtful I’d pick him anyways.” You replied, arms crossed over your chest.

“Hah! You’re funny, well he’s clearly under your command anyways. Won’t you let me borrow him? I’ve always wanted to be bitten by a vampire you see…” She drew closer, her eyes still looking him up and down. Nausea grew in his belly, his throat closing up.

Astarion wouldn’t say he liked you either per se, you didn’t make yourself the most personable exactly. You were blunt, which he enjoyed, as long as it wasn’t directed at him. Yet you weren’t afraid to speak your mind when he tried to play with you. Every and all attempts to get under your skin was answered with distinct indifference, not full rejection but without skipping a beat you continued whatever line of thought you had started. The most he could pull from you was the occasional laugh at his antics, mocking his clearly practiced recitals of lines he’d used dozens of times on hundreds of other people. You often replied with your own dry sense of humor. Sometimes though, he could swear that your cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but it was hard to tell since these few times were also those when you promptly turned your face away from him, suddenly a lot more interested in a bird or bush. And if he pushed, you were suddenly convinced you heard Karlach break something or Gale needing help with supper. He considered giving up, treating you with the same distance he kept to the other companions, yet you always seemed to gravitate back to his tent, to the spot next to him or simply to wherever he was. He wouldn’t say he liked you, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company.

“Well, I’m a spawn technically so you know, not a true vampire.” He managed to keep his voice light and comical, a half-hearted attempt at dissuading her, to keep her hands to herself. “Besides, I think I’d like to keep my teeth to myself this time.”

“Mh… Well no matter, you’re pretty enough to make it an overseeable difference. But I didn’t ask you, spawn.” The word was an insult. “I was talking to your commander here, or is it master? I can make it worth your while.”

The bite in your words and the general lack of give to his pushing and pulling gave him a weird sense of comfort. He could spew whatever lines he’d used before, chewed up and spit back out over and over again and you just… moved past them. You were bored by them, but not by him. He felt comfortable telling you about Cazador, about his scars, both physical and mental. You’d never gone too deep, but you had listened and you hadn’t let it color the way you treated him. There was a certain respect to the way you kept him at a distance, he couldn’t trap you under his thumb even if he tried. Yet you stayed besides him.

“Why in the nine hells are you asking me? I told you, I don’t own him, he can do whatever he wants. Mostly anyways. But he seems to be disinterested in whatever you’re offering so.” You didn’t spare him a glance, instead keeping your eyes on the drow woman. You were cautious too.

“Tsk, well if you’re unwilling to barter, I guess I’ll just have to go directly to the source.” She looked annoyed for a second before putting a face of seduction, temptation. She sensually moved her hair away from her neck, draping it over her opposing shoulder and tilting it towards him. She began to walk closer. Astarion could feel panic rise in him, instinctually taking a step back, unsure of what to do. “Come on, spawn, isn’t this what you were born to do? Feed?”

And when he was desperate, hungry and weak that night in the forest, his first instinct was to feed from you. Not because he hated you, far from it. But because he respected you and because he knew that if you found out; you might not judge. He hadn’t been careful enough when he hovered over you, accidentally waking you from your slumber. He had scrambled, fearing that this was it for him. He had slipped up and now any and all trust he had accumulated, though perhaps unfounded, would be wasted and he’d be banished if not worse. Yet you understood. He doesn’t know why, but it seemed like you did. And that night you let him feed from you, despite the pain it undoubtedly caused. And in the morning, you pretended like nothing had happened, like last night was as peaceful as all the others.

Maybe he did like you, just a little bit. You’d at least earned that much. But he had done nothing to earn that same sentiment. 

Yet…

“One step closer to him and I will be the one to spill your blood instead. He said he didn’t want you or whatever it is you’re offering.” 

You had taken a single step to place yourself between the woman and Astarion, keeping her from getting any closer to him. It was doubtful that you’d actually do anything against her in the very center of Absolutist territory. But he wasn’t certain, the way you firmly placed your feet on the ground and the way he could see your muscles tense beneath your armor from this far away told him that you just might. There’s the distinct tension of magic in the air, crackling just beneath the surface of the weave but enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. It lasts only a brief moment before the drow relents.

“Fine, do as you wish. What use do you have for a vampire that won’t even do something as simple and natural as bite a willing victim? Even if he is a spawn.”

“What reasons I have for keeping him around is none of your damn business. Now did you have anything more interesting to say or are we done here?”

There was nothing else you needed from her and as quickly as things had escalated, it had passed. It was still a couple hours before you decided to call it a day and lead them back to the camp to plan your next move and eat dinner. Astarion hadn’t brought up what had happened with Araj the whole time, yet it kept replaying in his head. If he could dream, he would’ve assumed this was the pleasant relief of sleep. But it wasn’t, you had stood up for him. Not only that, you had kept him from doing something he would regret, because he knows that if you hadn’t stepped in or even asked him to do it… He would’ve. Weak willed as he was after all the times he had broken his own boundaries for others. 

Night in the Shadowlands was somehow darker than the days, despite the lack of sun no matter the time. And as if the darkness could swallow any sound, silence lingered in the camp. Everyone either occupied with their own issues or idly putting their hands to work managing their gear. Astarion had wandered away from his tent and from the campfire, safe thanks to the pixie’s blessing and comforted in the shadows. It was a sense of familiarity that was bittersweet after todays events. 

The air was cold, the breeze rustling the blood red leaves of the few trees that could survive this darkness. The temperature didn’t bother him, he had long ago forgotten how cool the nights got. He could smell the dampness of the earth and of the rotting trees, the smoke of the campfire a vague note beneath it all. He surely smelled of smoke as well, it stuck to his clothes and hair despite how much he tried to cover it. ‘Rugged’ had never been a good look on him, he much preferred the sweet notes of incense and wine. But the worries of everyday issues were forgotten as he let himself fill his lungs with the fresh air.

Crack

The sounds of footsteps brought him back to the moment and he quickly turned around, the thought of a shadow cursed boar or harper still a relevant danger. Instead he was met with a friendly face. A friendly frowning face.

“What are you doing out here? You didn’t even bring a torch or anything, no one knew where you had gone.” You stopped a few meters away from him, half expecting to be able to return to the warmth and glow of the campsite since you had found the lost vampire. A light cantrip had been cast on the crossbow you kept strapped to your back, you always kept it within reach.

“Oh it’s just you, hah I thought I was about to be ambushed for a second. Were you looking for me? Awh you even asked the others where I was, how cute.” He teased, giving you a playful smile before turning his back to you once again. He heard you sigh before your footsteps grew closer.

“You shouldn’t wander off while we’re here.” Your words held no weight, you knew you couldn’t stop him if he was to actually wander away from camp. They were more like an attempt to keep any guilty conscious from getting to you if he did get hurt. But he still liked the thought that you might actually have been worried. “...Are you looking for something to feed on?”

“Around these parts? Gods no, I wouldn’t even touch a dead squirrel with a ten foot pole around here, not after that damned raven. I’ve accepted that I’ll just have to make do until we’re in sunnier parts.” He could feel his stomach writhe at the thought of something to dig his fangs into. He knew you had let him feed from you before but he had never been the one to ask, it’d feel like breaking an unspoken rule.

“Makes sense, those things came out of nowhere. Even the corpses have been cursed…” There's a pause and hesitation to you, an abnormality in your conversations. “Why didn’t you drink from the drow?”

He knew you’d ask, yet his face grimaced at the mere thought of her and her blood.

“Bah, she’s a blood alchemist, who knows what kind of stuff is running through her blood? I’m sure I wouldn’t be allowed to keep anything down if I drank from her.” He quickly recovered from the unintentional show of genuine disgust. “Besides, what’s the fun in a willing victim?” He turned his head to look at your face finally, putting on another playful smile and hoping you’ll take his joke as a response.

You don’t. Instead you cross your arms and raise your eyebrows ever so slightly at him, waiting for the real response. He’s unwilling to give it and instead looks away, gazing down into the valley beneath the cliff you both stood on. 

“C’mon, give me a real answer Astarion.” You lightly bounced your shoulder against his, the casual touch a surprise but not an unwelcomed one.

“Ah, you always have to dig your nose into things, don’t you… Fine, I simply didn’t want to. But that’s no reason to turn down whatever aid she might’ve had…”

“It’s as good a reason as any.”

Silence.

You hadn’t judged him. You just… took his choice at face value. Did you really nearly spill blood on the floor of Moonrise towers simply because he didn’t want to bite her?

“That’s it?”

“...What? Is there another reason you didn’t want to? You should’ve just told me from the beginning then, but go on.”

It’s almost funny how seemingly clueless you are. A dry laugh escapes him.

“No, it’s true. I simply didn’t want to. But you’re just so casual about it! Who knows what kind of powers she could’ve given us? But you decided to threaten her instead, it’s highly unlikely she’ll sell us as much as a health potion or even an antidote from now on.” He waves his hands around, frustrated by your seeming lack of care.

“You said no.” You shrugged.

“I-” He pauses, dumbfounded. “I said no… I didn’t want to bite her and you respected that… You even stood up to her for me, even though you don’t like me. I just can’t seem to understand you.”

You suddenly look just as confused as he did a moment ago, turning to fully face him for the first time since you joined him in the dark.

“...Who in the hells said I didn’t like you?”

“Well… Well no one said it, but I mean it’s not like you enjoy my company. It’s obvious everytime we talk. You don’t even give me as much as a smile when I tell you you’re beautiful, and when I try to playfully ask you to bed you just mock me. Yet you always come wandering over to me and so I try again, I mean why else would you want to talk to me? I may not be a mindreader, darling, but you’re sort of sending mixed signals here. I thought we just acted on the basis of respect here.”

Did you want him to try harder? Or stop fully with his advances? He really didn’t know what you wanted.

“I… Well…” In the darkness, with you backlit by your crossbow, he might be mistaken but there seems to be a blush creeping onto your features. “Didn’t you ever think that maybe I just don’t know how to respond?”

Oh.

Oh.

Aren’t you just adorable? Smugness builds in his chest and he opens his mouth, about to speak but you’re quicker.

“Besides, it’s obvious you’re just a flirt and I… I didn’t like being so affected by someone who isn’t serious. It’s embarrassing falling for something that's so fake, so practiced. So I ignored the flirting, I knew it was just lighthearted fun after all.  And I still like you outside of the compliments and teasing.” You hold your crossed arms even tighter together, unable to look at him. Instead you watch the slow fog rolling across the barren land. Your face lit by the soft glow of the moon just above Last Light Inn.

Astarion hadn’t even had the thought that you simply hovered around him because you… liked him. It was such a simple answer and yet it would’ve been the last thing he could’ve guessed. 

He liked you too.

A lot.

A lot more than he had previously allowed himself to feel. Could he even allow it now? What if he had ruined his chances of something more than… than what already was. The status quo had grown comfortable, predictable.

“I see…”

It’s all he can say. He can see that it wasn’t what you had hoped he’d say even if you weren’t looking at him.

A moment passes in silence.

There’s a look on your face suddenly, it looks almost pained or embarrassed, maybe it was both but just as quickly as it had flashed over your features it was gone. You let out a sigh and let your arms fall to the side, turning away from the outlook, clearly about to leave.

“Well that was… the worst. Anyways, I’m heading back to camp. Take your time, I’ll make sure there's supper left for you when you come back.”

Astarion realizes in a heartbeat that he was allowed to want something more.

You don’t even get one step away from where you stood before a hand grabs your arm with unnatural speed, holding you back from moving any further away. You nearly jump out of your skin by the motion, staring at the rogue. His face and eyes now lit by your crossbow, his eyes are wide as he watches you like prey. A shiver runs up your spine, he’d never looked at you like this before.

“Earlier today, when Araj asked you to let me bite her, you said I could do whatever I wanted.” His eyes don’t leave yours and there's something about their intensity that makes your cheeks heat up.

“Mostly, anyways…” You repeat what you had told Araj.

That seems to have been all the confirmation Astarion needed, suddenly closing the gap between you as he takes a step closer and pulls you into him. You catch yourself on him, the sudden movement taking you by pure surprise. Before you can register what has happened properly, his other hand has grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger with a firm grip and tilted your head up to face his. His unnaturally cool breath hits your lips as he’s leaned in, inches from yours but he stopped there. You’re trapped in his presence, it’s overwhelming in a way you always tried to avoid. But you wouldn’t dare move now, afraid to ruin whatever was happening.

“Then I want to kiss you…” His words are low, soft even.

“...I’d like that…”

In an instant his lips hit yours, soft and velvety. They feel just like you had thought so many times when you’d watched him talk. They’re cool compared to yours, something you hadn’t thought about but it somehow made everything feel so much more alive. Every soft stroke of his lips against yours was vivid as they parted and pushed up against each other, over and over again. The hand that had grabbed your face had smoothly slid to the back of your head, making sure he had you where he wanted you. The other hand had left your arm and was pulling your body against his, keeping you as close as he could physically keep you.

Astarion pushed into your body with a want, a need and a hunger you hadn’t ever seen him exhibit before.

He pulled away from your lips too soon. You didn’t realize how much you needed air before it filled your lungs abruptly in a labored breath.

In the glow of the moon and your makeshift light you could see his face. He was smiling at you, his fangs just barely peeking out from behind his lips. His eyes weren’t as wide anymore, instead crinkled at the edges from his smile but the look of predator remained in them still. He needed you.

“You taste divine, my dear.” You try to scoff, the comment was stupid in relation to simple kisses after all. But you don’t get much of a chance to react to his flirtatious attitude before he’s leaned back in, this time hovering over your neck with his mouth. His nose nudges the underside of your ear as he keeps your head still with the hand still firmly holding the back of your neck.

“But I want to taste your blood, if you’ll let me.”

Goosebumps spread down your arms and your breath catches in your throat. The hidden meaning of what he’s asking of you isn’t lost, not after today’s events. He wants your vulnerability, your submission, your blood. You had always been the one to tell him when he could feed from you, now he’s asking directly to do so. He wants to see your trust in him. That even when he’s a starving animal, he won’t hurt you, won’t take more than he needs. 

And he wants to show you how much he wants you.

His teeth graze over the soft skin of your neck, waiting for you to give him the sign. You nod.

His teeth pierce your skin, familiar pain shoots from the bite. You clench your teeth for a second before you relax, letting out a shaky breath. The pain dulls with his hands slowly starting to roam your body, one carefully tangling in your hair as he brings it up. He takes a soft grasp on it, using it to meaningfully guide your head to the side and giving him more space to drink from you. You don’t provide any resistance, all hesitations towards his advances were being washed away with each wave of pleasure and pain.

There’s no rush to him, no tension as he takes his time to enjoy you. Instead of the usual controlled and precise way he usually fed from you, when you both believed it to simply be an act of survival. Now he lets his tongue lap over the wound, the odd feeling of your hot blood and his cool tongue intermingling against your skin. He momentarily leaves the spot to kiss up your neck, intentionally letting your blood drip down and leave a trail as you shudder from the pleasure. His body is still firmly pushed against yours, his free hand carefully sneaking under your shirt to push against your bare skin. He’s pulling you against him and you've realized there's a rhythm to it, a slow and teasing tact to his grinding. It feels good, being so enveloped in him. When he feels ready again, he dips down to lick up the strip of scarlet that had formed, finishing with an open mouth kiss back where he started. The sharp inhale you make is punctuated by a soft moan, giving away your feelings and you realize you’ve been caught enjoying this maybe a little too much.

Embarrassment burns through you as Astarion pulls back to watch your face, a chuckle rumbling in his chest and spilling out between his lips, putting fuel to your fire.

“Now wasn’t that just adorable, I never expected you to make such cute sounds. Why haven’t you let me hear those when I’ve fed from you before?” He’s messing with you, a playfully mean glint to his eyes.

“You know why.” You say defiantly.

“Maybe…” He pretends to think about it, leaning back into you to place soft kisses along your jawline. The hand in your hair keeps you in place as he does. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“It feels good… this time…” You whisper but you know he’s heard you by the way you feel him smile against your skin.

“Is that so? I didn’t know you were such a masochist but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, who else would be so turned on by being bitten by a vampire.” He mocks you, the way he laughs leading to even more embarrassment and frustration coursing through your body. Partially by the way his laugh makes desire shoot right to your core.

He’s mean but it somehow turns you on even more, though you’d never tell him that. This is what you were trying to avoid after all, being so easily wrapped around his finger and put under his control. A part of you is still fighting his control and you try to step on his foot as payback.

Your foot only hits soft dirt as he quickly moves his own. Suddenly the grip in your hair is tightened and he pulls your head back further, forcing you to stare into his eyes directly. You’re scared that you were going to be met with anger or even hurt over your sudden and involuntary rejection. Yet all you’re met with is delight when you look into his eyes, his heavy breathing filling the night air with the smell of blood. 

“There it is, I always did enjoy the way you pushed back. I was worried you’d have gone soft on me.” He seemed ecstatic by your actions and you flushed again, he really did like it. “But just to make sure, darling… What do you want?”

For a moment you’re frozen, your head spinning from everything happening and partially from the blood loss. Not to mention the blood that had pooled somewhere further below. Yet worry brewed in the back of your mind and without thinking you blurted something out.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

You needed to know that this was what he wanted, despite him having taken the main lead, you wanted to make sure he had an out and that your own desires wouldn’t shackle him too.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re too considerate. But I strongly believe we want the same thing right now.”

“I want you.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think again and Astarion drank them up like wine spilled from the bottle.

“That’s what I thought,” he kisses you again, the taste of iron still fresh on his lips. “I want you too, afterall.”

His kisses distract you as his skillful fingers leave your hair and skin, instead grabbing the buckle of the crossbow holster that was strapped across your chest. He can't seem to keep his mouth quiet while he does it though, not that you should expect Astarion to be able to keep his mouth from running.

“I want you below me, I want to hear you gasp and cry out in pleasure…” He’s breathless, wrangling the strap of leather over your head, mindlessly chucking the crossbow somewhere nearby. The light still reaches you two, if just barely. Darkness claws it’s way closer, you pray it’s enough to keep you hidden away from wandering companions who wonder where you’ve gone. “I want you exposed and naked, darling, I want to dig my teeth into places only you and I will see.”

His fingers dig the rest of your tucked shirt out of your pants, his nails pleasantly scratching against your skin as he grabs bunches of the fabric and pull it up over your head as well. The cold air is suddenly intruding on your warm skin and you gasp. Astarion is quick to place his lips onto the newly exposed skin, placing kisses across your collarbone and to your shoulder.

“I want to feel your warmth against me, I want you to take me as you dig your nails into my back. I want to push you down just to feel you push back.” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as his own hands grab your behind, using the leverage to once again pull you in close. You can feel the hardness that had grown between his legs. He keeps going, talking in a daze in between the kisses. You don’t know if he’s drunk on your blood or just aroused, maybe it’s a combination of the two. He’s grown warmer to the touch thanks as your blood reinvigorates him. “I want you to feel me, feel every thrust as I ruin you. I want to tease you until you cry, I want to punish you for holding back on me this whole time. I want you to feel what you’ve done to me.”

You don’t get a moment to respond to him, you don’t even know what you could say. He takes your hand in his as he helps you both lower yourselves to the ground, the grass tickling the palm of your hand as you find purchase. He pushes himself over you, his knees firmly placed between your thighs, still holding your hand to push you down until you're laying below him.

“I want you to want me, just as I am.”

There’s a vulnerability to his voice and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he takes a moment to take you in. You look up at him, his white curls a little more messy than when you arrived and his lips a little more flushed. The moon is still high in the sky and though not as bright as usual, it’s enough to shine down on him and he looks… Ethereal. 

You take the pause in the flow to heave yourself forwards, pushing back and he lets himself fall back to sit on his knees as you kiss him again, slightly surprised. 

“I do, Astarion, gods be damned I do.”

You can’t take it anymore, he’s still fully dressed and you're desperate to see more of him and tired of being the only one exposed. Your hands grab at his shirt, messily working it out of his pants with a furrowed brow. A smile grows on his face and he laughs at your clumsiness before deciding to help you out. It only takes a moment for his own shirt to be discarded in the grass somewhere nearby. 

“You’re so forwards, did I really rile you up so much? I thought you didn’t like it when I ran my mou-” You interrupt him with a forceful kiss and he doesn’t hesitate to lean into it. Your hands finally touch his bare chest, letting your nails lightly scratch his skin as you run them further down. You feel him shudder.

“I like hearing you talk and you can run your mouth for hours but…” Your breaths are heavy as your hands reach his thighs, softly grabbing his legs. “I need you to touch me while you do it…” You’re trying to be bold but the desperation seeps through your voice and you look up at him through your eyelashes, unable to fully face him.

“Shit… Aren’t you just perfect? Who am I to deny you what you need…” He gives in to you, pushing you back enough to let him untie the lacing on your pants. It only takes a moment of shuffling until he’s rather expertly slid your pants off of you, leaving you in your undergarments. His hands grab your knees and part them enough for him to settle back inbtween them before they slide up your thighs. You're already working on the lacing at the front of your bra, pulling and tugging on the ribbons hurriedly. It gets even harder when Astarion decides he wants to taste you again, his lips finding your neck and hungrily licking for the taste your blood as left. He’s sucking hard enough that you’re rather certain there will be a bruise in the morning but you don’t care enough to reprimand him now. 

“Having some issues there, darling?” He teases as he feels you continue to loosen your bra, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

“No, it’s fine, ah! There, I got it!” You finally get it loose enough to pull over your head but Astarion doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you’ve managed to get it above your chest, his mouth has found your breast and taken a nipple inbetween his lips. Your reaction is instantaneous as you arch your back into him with a loud gasp, your arms freezing above your head with the bra still tangled between them. 

His cold tongue swirls around the bud skillfully and you're sure you can almost feel his fangs grazing against the sensitive skin. You're unable to keep quiet and even when you purse your lips together, the sounds betray you. But Astarion prides himself on his multitasking, one hand finally reaching below the edge of your panties. You’re already drenched thanks to his previous actions.

“My-my, you’re soaked. How often have you imagined this? Everytime you’ve let me feed from you? Everytime we’ve been alone together? Or just when I’ve put the thought in your head, hm?” His fingers slide between your wet lips, slowly spreading them as a finger found and began to circle your clit, not quite touching it.

“It’s not like tha- ah!” He doesn’t let you finish, instead taking the moment you opened your mouth to slide two fingers into you, curling them ever so slightly.

“What did you say?” He mocked confusion, continuing to slowly thrust his fingers into you.

“I… I haven’t…” You manage to get out between moans and heavy breaths, your brain going into overdrive trying to focus on what you’re saying. Astarion clicks his tongue and suddenly his free hand has pinched your nipple inbetween two fingers and his thrusting has gotten quicker.

“Lying is a sin, didn’t you know that my dear? Are you afraid of hurting me? Here I was, hoping you’d think of me daily. The thought of you touching yourself just because of my bite would simply delight me.” He rolls your nipple inbetween his fingers and you can’t think anymore, all you can do is roll your hips against his hand and writhe underneath him. “Come on, confess to me, beautiful.”

“I…” You struggle to formulate any sentence but his attention doesn’t falter, instead he looks like a cat whose playing with a mouse. He shifts his body so your leg hooks over his thigh, pushing further up as he keeps pumping his finger into you. The new angle lets him hit that spot you can never quite reach yourself. The closer you get to formulating words, the quicker he goes until the lewd sound of his hand hitting your soaked pussy is all that can be heard. You’re getting so close. “Fuck- I have, I-I’m sorry-”

Suddenly he laughs, loudly and with a sharp edge of ridicule. His hand slows to a near stop, simply pushing and curling his finger as he grinds the palm of his hand into your clit, keeping you close to that edge of cumming. You’re dazed and confused when you look at him, why is he laughing?

“Oh you are simply a riot, you sweet thing.” He smiles too kindly as he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing. He leans back as he sucks your juices from his fingers and push yourself up on your hands.

“Did I say something wrong?” You’re nearly panicked, worried you messed up and told him too much.

“No, no, not at all. The opposite actually.” He gives you a grin that clearly shows off his fangs.

“T-then why..?”

“You were close to cumming on my fingers, right?”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Huh? W-what, why?” Your brain is still hazy and you can’t think straight, his confusing answer didn’t make it easier for you either.

“Simply didn’t want you to.” You consider that maybe you did this to yourself, teaching him the power of simply refusing. You wanted him to have agency, but in this very moment you also wanted to cum. You wanted him to want you to cum. You can only guess that you looked especially conflicted because you were pulled from your thoughts by Astarions laugh again. When you look over to him, he’s untying the lace of his own pants. “Okay, no, I didn’t want you to cum on my hand because I want you to cum on my dick, simple as that actually.”

“Oh you’re such an asshole…” You mutter under your breath but his grin tells you he heard you as he pushes his pants and underwear down his legs. You take the moment to pull your own panties off.

“Ah, did you want to cum at all tonight, pet?” He threatens playfully as he finds his place between your legs but whatever reply you had died in your throat as your eyes land on his cock. You had imagined it before yet embarrassment had kept you from thinking of any details, yet there it was. Hovering over you, Astarion used one hand to hold himself up, the other softly tracing up your thigh as he took in your reaction and in turn observed your beauty. You laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable. Trusting and turned on. Just like he had wanted you. “Hm? Cat’s got your tongue? Come on now…”

He leaned in, kissing your lips once before once again lavishing the skin of your neck in open mouth kisses and playful nips that had you jolting under him. His cock just barely rested on your pussy lips as he slowly and softly moved back and forth.

“Fuck… Ah…” You sigh in pleasure but it’s not enough to satisfy Astarions ever growing need to embarrass you.

“Words, darling, use them. What do you want?” he whispered against your skin, pressing his cock further into the softness of your cunt with the base of his thumb, slowly fucking the space between you and his hand. Your slick coats him and he can’t help but sigh in relief. “Tell me, or I’ll just use you like this until I cum and leave you as you are.” It’s a threat without any truth, but it’s enough to push you to speak up.

“Maybe you should just… Shut up and fuck me, Astarion.” Your hand grips his hair, pulling it enough to guide his head back up to meet your eyes. The spark of your rebellion to his teasing thrills him to no end. “I want you to fuck me, is what I’m saying.”

Lips and teeth and tongue suddenly clash as he presses his mouth to yours. It’s messy and rough, you bite his lip and he moans. Your arms wrap around his neck. He finally guides himself to your opening and pushes the tip in. You both shiver, momentarily pulling away to whimper. And then all at once, Astarion pushes the rest of himself into your heat and you feel divine. You're forced to pull away and the feeling makes you drop your head back as you take a sudden, sharp inhale. Pleasure crashes over you and just as you feel like you can recover, Astarion is already ahead of you and starts to thrust. Whatever recovery you thought you could get is quickly washed away as moans and whimpers are all the things you can utter in that moment. His desire and desperation can be felt in the pace he quickly falls into, his mouth finding your breast once again but this time his earlier control seems to be gone. He bites into the soft flesh, his fangs sinking into your skin and you gasp. The pain and pleasure is overwhelming, the signals getting mixed up and all you know is that he feels good.

You lost count after the first three bite marks Astarion leaves on your body, you weren’t even sure if all of them broke skin or would leave any marks but surely some were. The thought crossed you, of meeting your companions when morning light comes and the view of the marks up and down your neck. And you, who had worked so hard to keep your attraction to Astarion pushed so far down, suddenly it’d be obvious you’d become his plaything. And yet the thought made you clench around Astarions cock, ecstasy taking over whatever shame you had just felt. 

Your peak was quickly building back up, and you repositioned your arms to grab around his shoulders and up his back. Letting your nails dig into his marble skin just like he had wanted.

“Hah, to believe you’d take me so well… Especially after all that grandstanding about- hah, fuck… not falling for the sweet things I say.” The smugness in his voice was annoying yet you felt your core tighten even harder at them. You dug your nails even harder into his back in response and you felt him stutter in his pace, a pleasured whimper slipping out from under his breath. “Shit,  yeah just like that, sweet girl.”

Of course he’d like it. You hide your face in his neck, unable to do anything else. You’re getting so close again.

A hand pushes inbetween you two as Astarion slips his thumb where you two are connected. He quickly finds your clit and presses down.

“Come on, I want you to cum on my cock… I want to push you over the edge, watch you cry out in pleasure…” You’re both dazed as he starts to rub your clit. Your back curves and you gasp, letting go of Astarion as you push your hands into the grass over your head, gripping it. “That’s it, cum for me, beautiful.” 

The last thing you register is his smile and his fangs glinting in the moonlight as you finally tip over the edge. You're flooded with white, hot pleasure as you screw your eyes close and arch your back off of the ground. Astarion doesn’t stop, his thumb relentless as he rubs you through your orgasm. He’s pounding into you, fast and rough but as you keep clenching around him he can feel how he’s losing himself. You’re still riding your high when his hands hit the ground on either side of your head and you can barely register his face as it hovers above you. He’s breathtaking, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows scrunched together. You see his white eyelashes as he closes his eyes, fully focusing on how good you feel around him. His pace becomes an uneven mess fueled by a frenzy and his feral need for you. Each hit of his cock against your inside sends another intense wave of pleasure bordering on pain and you take it, whimpering.

And as he pushes into you as far as he can the scales finally tip and he cums, flooding your insides with his cum. You can feel the pulsing inside you as he collapses over you, you both breathing heavy and slowly coming back down from your highs. 

It takes a minute before you're both in any condition to move, using the little energy you had gathered to roll over to your sides, facing one another. There's a comfortable silence as you let whatever happened to tonight soak in. Astarion is carefully watching your face, looking at the myriad of marks he’d left on your neck without even thinking. He never left marks usually, the proof of the nights spent with others made him nauseous. But his brain had been telling him that he should… that he needed to. He wanted you, after all. Reaching out with his hand, he carefully traced one of the bite marks. Your eyes suddenly widened.

“By the gods- What in the hells am I going to tell Shadowheart…” You groaned and hid your face in your hands. Astarion raised an eyebrow.

“...Was there something between you two I had just missed? Cus in that case I might not be able to come back to camp for a while.” He joked.

“No, no not that. I had just… mentioned to her that I wasn’t falling for your stupid flirting and how it was obvious you liked to fuck around and I just… Didn’t want that to be me. I’m pretty sure I called you annoying as well.”

Astarion once again laughed at you, the fact that you would both be facing a very judgemental Shadowheart was very amusing to him. He’d rub it in her face if he could, but the hickeys and bitemarks on your neck was probably enough.

“But now that is me… Ugh.”

“... You know I didn’t bed you just because I could, right?” Astarion spoke up, awkward in his approach.

“Well yeah the whole ‘I want you’ thing was pretty consistent. But what do you want with me?” And there was that straightforwardness he always found a little intimidating.

“I… I don’t know, but I want you. That’s all I know.” He studied your face before turning to lay on his back and look into the starless night. “Do I have to choose what that means now?”

“...No. Just… Tell me when you know I guess.” You shrug and turn to look at the sky as well. 

“Can I want you to come closer?” Astarion spoke into the night, his voice barely heard over the breeze in the trees.

You don’t answer, just shuffle closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He smiles, it felt nice having someone close even after you were… done.

“Though we shouldn’t stay here too long, I’m pretty sure I have grass up my ass crack and it’s colder than the hells out here. Sorry but you don’t exactly help either.”

“Oh aren’t you just charming, didn’t you ever learn some manners?” You both laugh and the shadowlands feel a little less… bleak, at least for tonight.

[ryemackerel]

“matt.”

“Yeah?”

“you’re a dumbass. hope you know that. (smooch)”

Redraw of an old TomMatt piece from March 2024 :-] Jesus christ their designs changed a LOT since then.

I debated whether to use 2SEATER, Some, or Rapp Snitch Knishes because my god I love their themes so much. TomMatt playlist my beloved.

My favorite ship in the world, and I’ve not once even thought of a headcanon duo name for them. So I just call them Blurple for now until I can find something HAHA. I love you TomMatt.

They’re both huge dumbasses. Matt is a literal magnet to Tom and she loves clinging onto him so much. Tom lives for physical affection, and even though he PRETENDS to be completely indifferent to it, he literally LIVES for being held by Matt.

You put these two in the same room and they’ll never let each other go. They love being dumb and silly around each other. You have very energetic hyperactive vampire man and very quiet and huggable hermit.

Sometimes Matt can bring up a million topics all at once, change topics every 5 seconds, and Tom is just completely quiet, listening to all of it and going “uh huh” “cool” “okay” HAVSHSAAHGA

I just had this thought as well while drawing them but. they kind of remind me of guitar dads. Mfs who are autistic as hell about band shit, and I can see in the good Future timeline they’d probably look like guitar dads too LOL.

[sanakimohara]

[ BOUND BY BLOOD ] - H. H.

master lists <> + CHRISTMAS EVENT: day two (n/a yet)

pairing: Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: A seductive vampire who has been watching you for centuries finally reveals himself. As Hyunjin pulls you deeper into his world of immortality, the line between love and obsession begins to blur.

date: December 21st 2024

playlist:

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + BLOOD KINK + ORAL + LOTS OF EXPOSITION + MENTIONS OF WITCHCRAFT & PAGAN HOLIDAY + EXTENSIVE PINING

Yule is more than a concession of sacred days ending in immense celebration. You knew of this from a very tender age, of course.

Your mother impressed upon you how vastly more important it was than any other festivity held throughout the year in your small village. A place nestled in the rocky edges of the St. Romanov mountains, just below the everlasting castle at the very top of the harsh scenery. In a dreary land, everyone would be just the same—sulking like the grey, cold clouds that hung high above, even in mid-summer, and bitter like the bark of the evergreen trees and pines occupying the surrounding woods. Many who lived far and near the little ancient plot began to whisper of its strangely happy and content inhabitants centuries before books made of linen and leather were being traded for secrets on the land they lived on.

Some talked of how women resembled eerily beautiful statues on a winter's night. Others told tales of men who never seemed to age past their prime but nearly always perished under terrible circumstances, whether in secret or for all to behold. You were born to a family who pressed truth into these oh-so-beguiled wise tales made up by outsiders. Yet, that was natural within a family littered with witches and warlocks of every kind.

Young and blessed with slow aging and graceful wisdom, your mother and father took it upon themselves to grant you a moderately lavish life within the strangely quaint village. You went without very little, and whatever your kind heart desired was promptly given. Your demure features disarmed many, growing enchanting as you neared the age of two centuries, looking nothing past the age of two bright decades. One might call it luck -especially living in a jagged and whimsical place. But many who lived beyond called it witchcraft at its finest point -the undead's evil doing.

You paid the assumptions no mind. Content with living a life in your studies of the dark arts under the teachings of your nearly pestering and frazzled mother and her less distracted and elated partner -your father. To some extent, he was a patriarch of the town, never fully taking on the title of its Baron and never desiring to when asked. He helped people experiencing poverty, aided people in need, and advised those who did have a hand in village affairs. On the other hand, your mother saw to the population's superstitions and unusual ailments and guarded their shaken resolves with practiced and refined magik. You had undoubtedly become their most prized offering to the masses. A beauty many could behold but could never understand being kept so hidden away at your family estate.

In turn, you were plagued with loneliness that could only be ailed by knowledge of the arts for so long. Years shifted into another half a decade of unbound youth and restrained confidence for you. Thinking of another century in such a state made your heartache and your head spin with sound worry. The terror struck you at family dinner in the dining hall, and you nearly opened your mouth to suggest an alternative to your parents. However, you were halted in a speech by your ever-so-live mother, who'd been unable to stop smiling since you stepped foot into the candlelit room behind your father's usual late arrival.

"I have grand news for you, my dear!" she beamed, and you perked up in your seat in interest. "Mother?...' you cautiously egged her on, sipping from the blackened wine glass set before your plate of half-finished food. She waited to hear you swallow your blackberry wine before glancing at your oddly silent father. "I and your Papa have a gift for you...well, a surprise, to be more specific."

Please, Mother of Darkness, do not let it be another grimoire. I've already filled in four others.

You prayed to the powers that be in a single silent breath, glancing between them as they observed you. "Oh...please do tell me of it. You know how little patience I have for surprises." The sweetest smile crossed your face, pulled tight by subtle anxiety and held there by a need to seem mildly normal about the implications of receiving a new and unknown gift.

Yet, it fell into a quivering line as your mother excitedly spilled her heart out for you to hear.

"We have found you a match, and he is rather eager about it. More than we are if my senses ring true!"

The light wave of shock that gripped you dissipated into relief. A hot flush rushed through d your veins like a flame catching the edge of fresh linen. Any other woman being told of a secure match might feel her heart turned to icey malice, but all you could taste was wild freedom being attained without much fight.

And you couldn't be happier to have it.

Who this match was and why he was so eager to be one with you was another mystery for different times. Now, you wanted a moment to relish in a world to be discovered outside the village you'd known an entire lifetime and mask that joy from the two beings who gave you such power over life as if their announcement hadn't changed a thing in your reeling mind.

With a deep and steadying breath, you replied, "How fortunate. I look forward to beginning our union."

Your mother nodded, sipping wine while your father grumbled a phrase of contentment. She offered you an all-too-tender smile, her bright gaze sparking as you tilted your head in curiosity. "Is there something more you'd like to tell me, Mother?"

She sighed, humming melodically, then set her glass down to speak again, her tone genuinely matter-of-fact.

"You'll be traveling to meet him at his estate within a fortnight."

This wasn't unexpected, yet hearing it aloud stirred a peculiar thrill within you, an undeniable pull toward the unknown that lay waiting.

The fortnight came within a whirlwind of a day. Your belongings were packed and shipped off early at noon, and your father blessed and sealed your treasures an hour before your departure. Your mother sent you off with genuine gifts of goodwill and more excellent fortune, refusing to speak on the mysterious author more than she already had -which only gave you a semblance of a surname from which to paint a picture of him.

Hwang.

It was all you'd know of him until the moon reached its height and your horse-drawn carriage stopped in the gravel walkway in front of his glaringly cold estate. You imagined his features, charm, voice, and sway over those within his power. Sketching his imaginations in a tattered leather-bound grimoire and writing earnest anecdotes of goodwill under each one. You wrote and drew until your hand ached, glad to see the semblance of a large mansion coming into view far across a snow-touched meadow.

The book snapped shut as you refined your focus on the blatantly grand estate. Your mother had called it magnificent when describing where this Hwang hailed from, but she left out the fair detail of how larger-than-life it seemed, with its gardens packed with mere hundreds of people.

A party.

A celebration.

An honoring of Yule.

You had never, ever seen such a large and lavish gathering. Granted, your mother and father never threw one as grand as the one you witnessed now from afar, but the edge of awe was still present as you observed it. People -men, women, the moderately young, and the wise old roamed about.

Some wore masks of gleaming gold, amber, and cherry red. Others wore black veils and cashmere shawls. Everyone in attendance held prestigious looks from afar, dressed in sacred colors starkly contrasting with the pure white snow coating the grounds.

Candles and lanterns were lit to perfection, leaking light into the moonlit night and casting a golden white glow on those who swayed beneath and through them. Shadows danced as many grabbed for waltz partners. A quartet strummed at their instruments and rang their bells into the air. Laughter and speech leaked into the music, piercing the sky.

It was life.

It was passion.

It was beautiful to see.

You ached to join the fun. Think of it constantly, even as the carriage stops at the steps leading straight to the heavy dark oak wood doors carved with the face of Medusa and sealed shut with iron wrought doubles of the letter 'H' leading straight to your new home.

With the help of a kind footman and the relief of a soft gasp, you took tentative steps to the top of the staircase, undeterred by the ice under your heeled boots and the gentle crunch of snow under your every movement. With a step left, the doors creaked open for you, a sudden chill wrapping around you before a steady warmth replaced it. You stopped short, unaffordable of the sudden eeriness, but perplexed to see not a soul standing behind the door.

"Mother of the moon.." you whispered in timid amusement, gazing up at the white sphere gleaming down on your clocked form before allowing its energy to steady your shaken nerves. When your mind could focus again, you bit the inside of your left cheek, slipping into the estate's front doors with a quiet huff, passing by the eyes of Medusa with a solemn smile of thanks.

The doors slammed shut as your feet hit the marble floor inside, loudly clicking its locks with finality as you spared them a final glance before sauntering further into the massive household. The small palace was lit, and not a corner was left cold or void, but not a life in your sight. It seemed as if the tree outside was merely a dreamscape and a phantom of reality within the world you stood in now - a wonderous opener to the spectacle within your suitor's less-than-humble abode. You reached another set of winding staircases. The embroidered carpet gently glistened under an amber-lit chandelier, never seeming to stain your wet footprints and littered with mistletoe, pine, fresh herbs, and trimmed garland. It was neat chaos at its finest, but what took your breath away was the line of blackened roses lining the center. Their thrones were pricked clean off, and their stems meticulously swirled in on themselves and tied off in an alternation of crimson red and deep violet silk ribbons. "How strange..." you thought aloud, pricking one from the warm floor, examining it until its petals were paled compared to the folded letter hidden underneath it.

It simply read in practiced well, done calligraphy,

"My Dearest Love,

The hour is late, and the world outside lies shrouded in slumber, save for me and my kin—ever wakeful, ever longing. I have watched you from the shadows, not with the eyes of a stranger, but with the gaze of a soul tethered to yours by threads spun long before this life. You do not yet know me, but I have known you for an eternity, each passing moment a cruel reminder of my yearning to claim what fate has promised me.

I am writing to you now, my beloved, because our meeting is near. The winter moon will shine brightest on the eve of the year's final breath, casting its silvery veil upon the snow-laden earth. In that sacred hour, I shall come to you. Do not fear the chill in the air or the stillness accompanying my presence. Know that every step I take toward you is born of reverence and an unyielding desire to protect, cherish, and love.

You may wonder why I have chosen you among all others, why I dare to speak of binding our lives together in the sacred vow of marriage. The truth is as eternal as the stars: I did not choose you. Though it beats no longer, my heart has always belonged to you. In your laughter, I hear the echo of joy I have long since forgotten; in your gaze, I see a light that pierces the veil of my darkness. You are the warmth my cold existence craves, the embodiment of all that is pure and eternal.

For centuries, I have wandered through this world, untouched by its beauty and unmoved by its offerings. Yet, the barren void within me stirred from the moment I beheld you, even from afar. My soul cursed as it is, recognized in you its redemption—a love that transcends time, a light strong enough to shatter even the deepest shadows.

I write this letter not to frighten you but to offer you a choice. When we meet, you will see me as I truly am. My nature, my curse—it is not one I would impose upon you without consent. But if your heart, as I suspect, already beats in harmony with mine, I ask for your hand, trust, and love. Together, we will defy the passage of time, weaving a tapestry of eternity that no force can unravel.

Await me on the night of our destined meeting. Do not despair the hour, for it shall mark the beginning of a love that poets and dreamers could only hope to capture. I shall kneel before you, not as a creature of the night, but as a man who has waited lifetimes to call you his own.

Until then, my love, guard your heart, for it is already mine. And know that no force on this earth, nor in the heavens above, could keep me from you.

Yours eternally,

Hyunjin..."

A weight lingered over your shoulders as his name slipped past your lips like pure honey. As if it were planned to happen, and for one explicable reason or another, he had pined for it to be that way on this very night. You pieced things together in the moment it took you to realize them. Every night since your 118th risi, you'd felt a presence -not nearly a calling- but something tethered to your existence. Had that been him for all these years? Watching over you in the smallest of moments. Moving when you moved. Listening when you spoke. Caring when it seemed no one else could. Being there when you felt further trapped in an unintentional isolation.

Were the sharp and bloodborne eyes trailing every move in glimpses of mirrors.?Was he the lurking shadow hovering above your own in the light of a single candle? Was he the one leaving gifts of your desire at the foot of your bed? Each one left with no note or card of recognition but instead wrapped neatly and meant for you to find and enjoy. Wasthee soft chill of breath you felt through the coldest nights? Twinged with a peculiar warmth and steadily streaming against the crook of your neck and behind the shell of your ear.

You thought of the possibilities, fueled by a deep curiosity and security, as you followed the trail of roses left along the ststastaircathrough staircase-through rooTandyandy stopped at a particular door on the second floor, previously leading through the tre right-wing amenities before the abr.aWithhith one big push of both your hands, you revealed what lay within the last unlocked room.

A man, dressed in fine clothing with a more captivating charmed beauty to match, stood before you in a moment of tensed admiration.

He seemed to hold in a breath, lips pressed into a slow-growing smile of recognition as his eyes scanned you in familiarity. Your heart thumped twice its normal speed as he did, and your feet shifted closer to each other as his gaze halted on your flushing face. "He-Hello..." you muttered, unsure what else to say and completely startled to see another person standing in the emptied estate.

Hyunjin did not hold your lack of recognition and frazzled greeting against you; he accepted them. I expect much worse, and he was glad those assumptions did not come to fruition upon your timely arrival.

He found the words to speak and the will to be heard when you took a half-nervous step back, shuffling closer to the doorway in a plain attempt to close it shut if prompted to. "You're quite alright. I've been waiting for you for some time now, so I would like you to stay even if it's for a moment..."

The cadence of his words and the gentle tone of his voice sounded the same as the whisper within your most common dreams. It was healing, charming, sweet, and meant to cause delirium to anyone who heard it without warning. You unconsciously paired it with the letter you'd found. Gripping it in your right hands, your mind collected subtle connections.

This had to be him.

Your allusive and eager suitor?...

"Hwang...Hyunjin..."

"That is my full name, yes..." he jested a bit, treading carefully through your observation of him. However, when your stare found him again, you seemed neither displeased nor perplexed.

"Are you to be my match, then? " you asked, hoping his answer would satisfy your growing uncertainties.

He nodded, nibbling at his lush bottom lip for a split second of tension relief. Then, you noticed his edged canines glinting in the soft light filling the room. Your heart jumped, but your breath slowed at the minuscule sight.

You'd gotten yourself a walking undead of your own, it seems.

Hyunjin's quick eyes caught yours wondering towards his mouth, fixated on the slip-upphe'ddd ma unconsciously but nowhere near frightened or frazzled by the reveal. It eased his rare nerves and allowed him to speak more freely as you inched further into the room to get a closer look at him. "I know stepping into this new life may be very odd to you now, but as I explained in the letter-"

"I've read it twice since my arrival..." you confess in one uttered breath, unable to keep smiling softly at him, "You're a lovely admirer and a gifted writer by all means..." You paused, unsure what to call him and afraid you'd begun to ramble, seeing his head lower at your words. However, Hyunjin flashed a charmed grin your way after half a moment. His pale cheeks flushed a tinge of rouge you thought was a trick of the light. How could someone so confident in their presence be so easily flustered? The answer was beyond you, but it was a question you cherished watching him watch you from across the room.

His smile fell to a slight smirk, eyes cutting to the side for a moment before he spoke again, "You are one charming doll... do you know that?" He chuckled, and you shrugged, eyeing him as he wandered closer with steady strides. "I've been told otherwise..." you confess in a whisper, accepting bated breath as he flows above the top of your head.

A pull surged in your chest, urging you forward into his immobile warmth and drawing your head up at an angle so his face remained inches from your own. Hyunjin stared back, eyes downcast in jaded concern as you hid a coy smile. "Wel, my love, they don't know you as I do."

He spoke of your intentional grace and earned your trust. He is unafraid to let you witness the flicker of vulnerability behind his maroon irises.

It was then that you knew what he thought of you, how he felt, with only your eyes to capture him.

A life to live in the eternity he found himself in.

One year came and went in the Hwang estate; in that time, you'd grown to love hearing that surname replace your own. Hyunjin was far more than a dashing husband and far better than any other living man you had encounteredHisis obsession with you was infinite and dedicated. It showed in every little thing he did for you and was present in every intimate interaction you had with him - even if he took each one no further than a heated kiss and a passing touch of his cold hands over your warmer flesh.

There were times it drove you mad.

His withholding of passion in fear of harming you during such acts was maddening, to say the very least. Sleeping with him had begun to be the only thing you could think of. You are noo longer able to keep such thoughts within the confines of your still-separated rooms during the dead of night and are frazzled by the visceral need to feel him take you.

He knew of your struggles but never acknowledged them. Hell-bent on sticking to his version of affection for as long as possible and undeterred by your subtle begging far longer than you had expected him to be.

That is until the very night you met him came around again.

Sweat shined your skin from the heat of the broiling water you sank into only moments ago. Herbs, spices sprinkled, and citrus shreds floated to the top of the scented bath. It was a relief to feel each component working into your tired body and slowly bringing life back into it as moments of solace trickled into a calm, quiet passage.

Finally, you could rest and not answer another question about decorations, food to serve partygoers of the evening, or what musical set to be played throughout the night. Taking on the task of planning for the Hwang household Yule was tedious and meticulous. Every detail was meant to be perfect, just as you had seen upon your arrival a year prior, but against Hyunjin's well-meant wishes, you took on the assignment with vigor for perfection.

It was overwhelming in all aspects, but you'd done it to the best of your ability, and now you wanted nothing more than to relax before the celebration began. The guests slowly showed themselves.

Your eyelids lowered, fully closing as the hot water sank deeper into your skin—the smell of fresfragranceses swept under your nose in gentle wafts. For a while,nt the world went utterly sti, ll, and you could hear the wind and snow softly blowing outside; your lonely peace was dissolved as a tender kiss was placed at the of your head by familiar lips.

"My love..." Hyunjin greeted you humbly, and you returned the sentiment by peeking your eyes at him. "My prince..."

He smiled at the neverending nickname you'd decided long ago to give him. You held his lingering gaze, tracing the lift of his lips as he leaned in to place a meaningful kiss against your lips. Your hands floated from the water, gently cupping his face as his lips pressed into yours. They were tinted with red wine and the lingering taste of iron blood, but you paid the bitterness no mind, delving for something more profound as he trailed a hand through your damp hair and brushed back the strands sticking to your flushed cheeks.

A fire stirred in your stomach, spiraling as the swipe of his tongue over your own melted the taste of him into your senses. Hyunjin pressed to shift backward, understanding the intensity of your exchange, but had no room to do so as your freshly manicured nails gently dug into the skin of his unblemished face. He stayed still, falling into a pattern of returning slow and wet kisses with you in the quiet of the large washroom. You hummed at his intentional sweetness to please you, smiling as he tilted your head back to rest on his thigh, your right hand cupping your chin firmly as his left raked through your hair and massaged the roots at your scalp. A trickle of drool seeped past your lips, tainted with blood a moment later, as he bit down on your inner lower lip with the tip of a fang. You whined softly as the sudden and short infliction of pain pleasured that he took joy in marking you in such a discreet place and was not timid about savoring the reward of your blood on his tongue, but the mix of elation didn't last long. Hyunjin snapped away from your lips, pressing loving kisses to them as you frowned and whimpered from the loss of connection. "Please do not torture me..." you huffed, legs closing instinctively to put pressure on the throbbing heat between them.

“Don’t…do this to me, “ you repeat yourself, stirring into a fever as his touch on your jaw slid to cup and caress the side of your face as if to lull you back to sanity.

He failed, a rare thing to happen, but something he couldn’t help as you stared up at him with the most unforgiving and pleading stare. “Please…” you utter to him, bottom lip catching between your teeth as his eyes settle across your body in a languid dance. His gaze stops at your chest -barely hidden in the cream-filled water, and you’re tempted to slip out of the bath and let him have a full view if it’ll coax him to give what you so desperately want from him.

Hyunjin needs no further persuasion than a flicker of sadness and disappointment in your eyes. You’re prepared to handle your growing frustration of heat alone and hope it will be done by the time guests arrive, but a simple phrase from him shatters your ideas of doing so.

“You’ve waited long and well enough.”

The sound of praise in his tone has you turning in the water to face him like an excited mutt being given a treat. Your smile returns, and your hands fall to rest on his thigh. “You won’t back down from me?…” You ask out of fear he will, knowing his quick change of mind could be fickle and turned again if you weren’t careful with your intent. Hyunjin stifled a chuckle, unbothered by your eagerness and thrilled to see you smiling at him brightly again.

That generous lift of your lips always made his cock twitch to life no matter when, where, or why it happened.

It was such a curse to him that even now, he failed to think straight enough as you rose a bit more from Luke's warm water to press a slow kiss to his parted lips. The cherry stain on your lips seeped onto his tongue, your tongue slow and delicate against his, steadily licking into his mouth a sweet confidence. He swallowed your noises, smothering them with nips and licks before easing your mouth open for a singular line of his spit to slide down your tongue. You purred at the feeling, sinking into the water a bit as he stood up and spat straight into your throat as if he owned it.

Because he did…and you adored him for it.

“Come with me…” Hyunjin grunted against your ear, not caring about the mess made, as he wrapped a strengthened arm around your waist to pull you from the cold bathwater. You helped lousy in excitement as he did, completely fine with being tossed over his shoulder like a sack of packed sugar cane. “I wasn’t finished bathing-!” You start to scold him despite not having the heart or right mind to mean anything by it, but a tender prick of his fangs to the flesh of your thighs startles you into a fit of giggles.

“And I don’t care anymore, my love…”

“Ca…c…can’t…” you choked on your words, falling to pieces as Hyunjin laid his head between your legs, hair sheened with sweat as your fingers traveled through and gripped every strand it touched tight. “Third time a charm,” he muttered, all too focused on the task in front of him and unbothered by your shaking thighs and rolling hips. “N-no..” you protested in half-sought agony, unsure if he’d even heard you when he earned another shout of his name with a slow and deliberate swipe of his tongue pressed flat to your entrance. He let the wet muscle rest there for a second, nudging it into your creamy walls inch by inch until you tugged at his hair and groaned in pleasurable despair at the feeling.

He added to the pattern, tracing the inner folds of your cunt and circling your bundle of nerves in repetitive motions. You quivered every time, leaking cum onto the fresh linen, and overstimulated in every sense you had left.

Hyunjin groaned loudly, with a collared shirt falling from his broad shoulders and your legs lazily hanging over them. A tug in your hips brought your scented body an inch closer to his face before he buried himself in your cunt again. Licking, searching, and finding exactly what he wanted. You squirmed and tossed above him, gripping at anything soft and mailable to have a steadying grip, but you couldn’t sit still or stay calm. Hyunjin wouldn’t have it any other way, sinking his fangs into your plush thighs and the soft skin just above your left knee to keep you on edge.

“N-ngh ugh….ah! Ah! Hy-Hyunjin…” you called for his attention, on the of unraveling, feeling his lips wrap around and suckle on your clit generously before his tongue went right back to exploring your insides in a practiced dance. He refused to settle down, looking up at you through fallen strands of dark and damp hair and devouring you with intent as your moans climbed to new octave before a scream tore from your throat at a final flick of his skilled tongue.

It nearly hurt how fast and how intensely he’d thrown you over the edge. A third instance is not more straightforward than the first two; a fourth is meant to top it all off immediately. You panted, feeling wild and shaken but unable to care as a buzzing heat flooded through your veins and leaked onto the sheets in arousal. It stained the soft fabric, your inner thighs -painting the darkened marks he’d left and smearing the trickles of blood he’d caused with small bites, and coated the bottom half of his face as he raised to hover above you.

You caught him in a delirious kiss, too tired to sit up and lock him in your arms but glad he felt no desire for you to do it. Hyunjin caved into you, letting your hands wander over his skin, across his shoulders, down his back, around his waist, and stopping right where his heart should beat in his toned chest.

There wasn’t a throb of life left in him, and you trusted that he saw yours as valuable enough to change.

One day…but not yet…

He answered your lingering question without a word, peppering the corner of your upturned lips with gentle kisses and soft sighs you returned. Your legs remained parted, allowing his free hand to lazily touch and spread your slick along the expanse of your cunt. “Such a pretty little flower for me…so sweet…and so,” he trailed off, nudging your head to the side to sink his teeth into your heated neck, drawing blood and a pleased moan from you as he took slow sips of your blood.

“Soft…” he finished.

His fingers plunged deep into your core, stretching the gummy walls within in slender but tasteful thrusts. You shook from the contrasting actions he was committing. Awed at how full he made you feel despite draining you in the same breath.

Was this the true love of an undead man?

Does the obsession of another once alive come back to life?

You hadn’t the slightest clue to answer both inquires, fixated on watching his fingers pump into your soaked entrance as your head spinning from the lack of blood beginning to take effect. Hyunjin refrained from sucking you dry, driven mad by the taste of you no matter how he got it, but aware of your limits as part of the living. Still, he detached from your neck with a soft and crisp sound, focused on pulling another climax from you.

You were on the verge of another, lashes fluttering as the syllables of his name faded into breathy gasps as your high tiptoed closer, but the slow drag of his fingers from your cunt slowed it to a standstill. “No..!” You yelp in disbelief, ready to shed tears if this was his way of putting a stop to your feigning for him, but your disappointment was short-lived and replaced with pleasant surprise as he shifted to kneel on the soiled sheets between your spread legs.

You watched in particular excitement as he stared you down, rolling his neck once to release tension in it, and licked the remaining droplets of your blood from the corner of his lips while reaching to undo the confines of his trousers. He said nothing as you marveled at the sight of his cock. Your face flushed a bit as he brought it into your view with his large hand wrapped around its inches more considerable length. You refused to speak a word, having imagined the sight of his cock more than once before, but speechless at its true nature being revealed.

Thick, full of stock, and neatly groomed.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of it -merely glancing up at Hyunjin in awe when he leaned forward to press the length of it against your sensitive folds, but shifting your gaze right back to it as he passed over your folds.

“Oh!…mmm..” you shuddered into a gasp and fell into a moan at the sensation. Your insides flipped and twisted, eager to know if his cock could reach new places you’d never forget. Hyunjin clicked his tongue, sparing a glance downward between your bodies before lowering his head to rest against yours, hips set back slightly to prod the tip of his length to your aching entrance. You whined, prepared for the stretch but intolerant of his ever-waning patience. “We’ll miss our first guests if we continue like this…” He hummed, sensing approaching carriages and steeds from afar in the low blizzard rousing the night air. You cup his face, eyes set on his as your lips curl into a coy smile. “Let them wait…Let them wonder where we are the whole night if that’s what must be done..”

He raised a brow, licking his lips while his cock inched into your untouched entrance, watching the fall of your smile into a small ‘o’ shape as he did so. “Your wish is my command, Lady Hwang..”

A/N: I’m sick so this is late but it’s a double feature (Changbin is next)

Other links: Tik Tok + Discord + Instagram

TAG LIST 🖤: @halfwinterhalfuniverse 🖤 @eastjonowhere 🖤 @whatudowhennooneseesyou 🖤 @skz-dorms 🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

🗣️ Credits to Creator 💜

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

mean it

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

summary: based off of mean it by lauv <3

tags/warnings: reader is angry at seungmin, seungmin is vulnerable (wowwww)

a/n: hi guys <3 this isn't enough, i know, but im doing my best <3 i haven't been feeling my best lately (mentally) i'll get pt 3 of its okay, im okay soon <333

masterlist

The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white through the rain-splattered window. You sat in the passenger seat, hands curled in your lap, your heart heavy with a question you weren't sure you wanted to ask.

Seungmin gripped the steering wheel loosely, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but you knew he felt it too—the weight of something unspoken settling between you like a fog neither of you wanted to clear.

"Do you even mean it?" you finally whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the radio.

Seungmin’s fingers tensed for the briefest moment before he let out a sigh. "Mean what?" He knew what, but he wanted you to say it.

You swallowed, turning to look at him. "When you say you care. When you say you miss me." Your voice cracked at the last part, betraying the way your heart clenched inside your chest. "Or do you just say it because you think it's what I want to hear?"

The car slowed as he pulled into an empty parking lot, the rain tapping against the windshield like impatient fingers. He turned toward you, his expression unreadable in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

"Is that what you think? That I don't mean it?" His voice was softer now, but there was something else in it—hurt, maybe.

You looked away, exhaling shakily. "I don’t know. You’re always busy, and when you do have time, it feels like you’re somewhere else. Like you’re saying all the right things, but they don’t feel… real."

Silence stretched between you, the kind that made your chest tighten with the possibility that maybe, this was it. Maybe you were right. Maybe he didn't mean it.

But then, Seungmin reached out, his fingers hesitating before they curled around yours. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I know I haven’t been good at showing it, but that doesn't mean I don't care. It doesn’t mean I don’t—"

He stopped himself, biting his lip. The vulnerability in his eyes made something inside you waver.

You wanted to believe him. So badly.

"Then show me, Seungmin," you whispered. "Because I can’t keep guessing."

He nodded, determination flickering in his gaze. "Okay," he said, squeezing your hand. "Let me prove it."

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, he really did mean it.

hope yall enjoyed <3

today's writing playlist....

(they long to be) close to you by the carpenters, toxic by britney spears, can't take my eyes off you by the boys town gang, campus by vampire weekend, heartris by niziU, mama said by kickflip, umm great by kickflip, hot to go! by chappell roan, pink pony club by chappell roan, casual by chappell roan, femininomen by chappell roan, sunroof by nicky youre, hell n back by bakar, yoga by bbno$ and rebecca black

*bold is explicit*

my playlist

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

VERYYYY friendly warning to those who vote naur 😇

[doumadono]

III - THE WITNESS

Summary: the most loyal hunters of the Sangreal, Toga and Kurogiri, brought unsettling news to the vampire king, All For One, and his hair, Tomura Shigaraki — Dabi had slaughtered a group of low-tier vampires but spared a human

Warnings: mentions of blood, vampires, mentions of vampire Dabi, vampire Shigaraki, vampire AFO, vampire Toga, vampire Kurogiri

WCT: circa 2k

𖥸 SANGREAL - previous chapter 𖥸 chapter IV 𖥸 SANGREAL - playlist 𖥸 MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The Sangreal Fortress stood as a monument to power, carved from obsidian and iron, its jagged spires stretching into the ashen sky like claws, looming over the ruins of Tokyo. The air reeked of decay and death — the scent of old blood soaked into stone like the faint, lingering screams of those who had been dragged here and never left.

Inside, beyond the endless corridors of vaulted ceilings and blackened torches, past the marble halls stained with years of spilled life, at the very heart of the Sangreal’s rule, stood the throne room.

It was vast, cathedral-like, with towering walls etched with ancient sigils that pulsed faintly in the dim, crimson light of the torches lining the chamber. At the farthest end, raised upon a platform of polished obsidian, sat the throne — a grotesque structure of human bones, bound together by sinew. Skulls, spines, femurs, ribs, all of them preserved with unnatural perfection. It was a monument to dominance, to cruelty.

And upon it sat All For One.

He lounged, one leg bent, the other draped over the armrest, fingers tapping idly against the golden chalice in his grasp. Blood. Dark, rich, fragrant. Fresh. It clung to the edges as he swirled it absently, watching the slow, thick movement of the liquid as if considering its very essence.

He was a king of monsters, indulging in his throne of corpses.

At his right, Tomura Shigaraki slumped lazily in his own throne — a smaller, twisted thing made of jagged black stone, positioned just slightly lower than All For One’s own. His clawed fingers tapped idly against the armrest, head tilted, disinterest written in the slouch of his posture. His white hair, messy and unkempt, barely shielded the sharp, irritated gleam in his crimson eyes.

All for One didn’t look up when the doors to the throne room groaned open, but he felt them enter.

Two of his most trusted Hunters.

Kurogiri moved first — calm, composed, his presence as cold and formless as the mist that swirled from his body. Always efficient. Always exact.

Himiko Toga was not.

She strode forward with a skip in her step, fingers curling at her sides, eyes bright with something twisted as she approached. The scent of old blood clung to her like perfume.

All For One did not speak. He merely tilted his head, waiting.

It was Kurogiri who spoke first. “My Lord, we have an unfortunate matter to report.”

All for One took another slow sip from his chalice. “Then report.”

Kurogiri’s voice remained even. “A group of low class vampires was found slaughtered in the Dregs of Musutafu. Not just killed — burned. Reduced to nothing but charred husks.”

Silence settled like dust.

AFO finally lowered the chalice, tapping his fingers against the rim. “And?”

Toga’s lips twisted into a sharp grin, though there was no true amusement in it. “Oh, and you’ll want to hear this one, my lord,” she purred. “Dabi’s been a very bad boy as of lately.”

Shigaraki, who had been half-listening, exhaled heavily through his nose, tipping his head back against the stone wall behind him. “Tch. Again? What did he do this time?” His fingers twitched restlessly against his knee as he improved his position.

All For One’s expression didn’t change.

Kurogiri straightened. “We have reason to believe he was responsible for the massacre of that vampire hunting pack.”

AFO let the weight of that information settle before he glanced to his right.

Tomura sat there, half-sprawled, his body slumped in that lazy, careless way of his. Both legs slung over the armrest, nails tapping against the hilt of the obsidian dagger he was busy with. He looked bored.

Tomura let out a long, slow sigh, tilting his head slightly. “Tch. He probably just went feral. He must be starving.”

AFO raised a brow.

Tomura continued, waving a hand vaguely. “You know how he is. Stubborn little bastard doesn’t drink enough. If he’s not feeding properly, the hunger’s gonna mess with his head sooner or later.”

Toga pouted dramatically. “Boooring answer, Tomura-kun.”

Shigaraki didn’t even look at her. “It’s the most obvious answer.”

All For One was silent for a moment, considering the possibility. 

Dabi had always been a controlled wildfire when he was in the Sangreal — dangerous, but predictable in his fury. The thought of him slipping entirely into mindless hunger was possible.

“That would be the logical assumption,” the king of vampires admitted. “And yet, that is not what troubles you.” His gaze flicked toward Kurogiri. “You wouldn’t have come all this way just to tell me that a failed Hunter snapped.”

Kurogiri’s mist shifted. “No, master.”

Toga beamed. “We have a witness, my lord!”

That caught All For One’s attention. His grip on his chalice tightened slightly.

Even Tomura’s brows lifted slightly.

“A witness?” All For One repeated, voice silky, yet edged with quiet menace.

Kurogiri gave a short nod. “One of these low-class leeches managed to crawl away before getting torched. He saw everything.”

AFO considered for only a fraction of a second before lifting one clawed hand in a slow gesture. “Bring them in.”

Toga clapped her hands together, practically bouncing as she turned toward the guards stationed at the far end of the throne room. “Oh, this is gonna be fun!”

The massive doors groaned open again, and a pair of black-armored enforcers dragged in a wretched figure, shoving them onto the cold marble floor.

The vampire was pathetic. Gaunt, frail, its skin stretched thin over jagged bones, as if it hadn’t fed in weeks. Feral, sure, but too weak to be truly dangerous. The last scraps of what had once been a predator.

The vampire trembled, bowing its head so low it nearly touched the floor, refusing to meet All For One’s gaze.

AFO let the silence stretch.

Then, in a voice that was both bored and utterly commanding, he said, “Speak.”

The vampire shuddered violently, lips twitching as if they didn’t want to form words. But one of the guards behind them pressed a sharp blade against their back, and the creature flinched, choking out a panicked rasp.

“I-it was him,” they stammered. “The— the blue fire— it was Dabi. I swear!”

All For One’s expression did not change. He had already known that much.

“But…” The vampire swallowed thickly, trembling. “B-but he didn’t—”

The low class vampire hesitated.

Tomura’s boredom vanished in an instant. “But what?” he demanded. “Speak, for fuck’s sake.”

The vampire shuddered. “He… he didn’t kill everyone.”

All For One’s fingers tightened around the chalice. “What do you mean?” His voice was deceptively calm.

The vampire squeezed their eyes shut, trembling harder. “H-he saved one. A human. He saved her from me and my friends.”

The words rippled through the room like a shockwave.

Tomura sat up straight, interest sparking in his red gaze. “Bullshit,” the vampire prince scoffed. 

Even AFO went still, his expression unreadable, his mind calculating.

Toga grinned widely. “Now isn’t that interesting, my lord?”

The vampire nodded fervently, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. “Y-yes! I swear, it’s the truth, she was a human female! He fought off my comrades, each one of us no match for him. And instead of draining her, like he should have, he left her alive. Alive! And he took her somewhere!” Their eyes darted around as if expecting the very walls to collapse in on him for uttering such a thing.

All For One’s claws tapped against his throne.

That was not expected.

Shigaraki clicked his tongue. “A starving Hunter spares a human girl?” He scoffed, slumping back into his seat. “That doesn’t add up.”

All For One set his chalice down onto the armrest of his throne, the blood within it barely disturbed. “Kurogiri.” 

“Yes, my lord?”

“Do we have any records on this girl?”

Kurogiri’s mist shifted uneasily as his response was immediate. “None.”

All For One exhaled slowly, considering, before rising from his throne. His tall, imposing frame cast a long shadow across the polished bones at his feet.

Toga and Kurogiri immediately bowed lower.

Tomura only tilted his head, eyes sharp. “What now, father?”

AFO’s voice was smooth as silk, heavy as death. “We need more answers.”

Toga tilted her head, golden eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she dared to look at her master. “Or maybe…” Her voice dripped with a conspiratorial undertone, “Maybe she isn’t just some random girl.”

All For One’s crimson gaze flickered toward Kurogiri. “Tell Overhaul we are going to visit his facility.”

Kurogiri gave a short bow. “Of course, my lord.”

The vampire kneeling on the floor barely dared to breathe.

All For One turned to Tomura next. “You’re coming with me, my son,” the vampire king stated simply.

“Oh, come on.” Tomura’s head tilted back, a groan scraping at the back of his throat. “Do I really have to go?” His eyes rolled. “Tch. Why not send Toga? Or Kurogiri? Or literally anyone else?”

All For One didn’t blink. “You are my heir. This is mandatory.”

Shigaraki’s jaw tightened, his fingers twitching against the hilt of his dagger. “Tch. Overhaul thinks too much of himself.” His voice was laced with venom, his disgust clear. “Always acts like he’s the smartest in the room, when really, he’s just a glorified butcher with a god complex. I don’t need to waste my time listening to his bullshit.”

All For One finally moved. He straightened, his presence suddenly heavier, his aura stretching over the room like an eclipse blocking out the last rays of light.

“You will go,” the master said, his voice cutting through the chamber like a cold, sharp blade. “Because Overhaul is powerful,” he continued, patient but firm. “Because he is ambitious. Because, given the opportunity, he would tear down everything I built and remake it in his own image.” The vampire king leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to something almost mockingly gentle. “And you, my heir, will one day sit upon this throne. You must learn to command creatures like him. You must learn how to keep them in their place.”

Shigaraki scowled. He hated when All For One talked like this — as if everything had already been decided for him, as if he were some sucker being given a lesson. His teeth ground together, frustration clawing up his spine. For a moment, Shigaraki debated pushing further. His frustration twisted through him, his hatred for Overhaul bubbling just beneath his skin.

But he wasn’t stupid. When All For One gave an order, it was law. And because deep down, he knew his master was right.

Shigaraki knew Overhaul was dangerous. Too smart for his own good. Too bold, too confident. If left unchecked, he would become a problem.

“You may take a Nomu with you,” All For One added.

A Nomu. A true beast of Sangreal. One of the enhanced creations. A weapon born from blood and suffering, stripped of humanity, driven only by hunger and command.

Shigaraki’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, the prospect more tempting than he cared to admit. 

Even Overhaul wouldn’t be stupid enough to test his patience if he had a Nomu standing at his back.

Tomura let out a slow, sharp exhale, running a hand through his messy white hair. His nails raked against his scalp, but finally, begrudgingly, he uttered, “Fine. But don’t expect me to be polite.”

A trace of amusement curled beneath All For One’s mask of detachment. “I would never.”

There was no triumph in All For One's tone. No satisfaction. Because, in the end, his word had never been up for debate.

taglist:

@redlipstic @alexandhisstuff @pixelcafe-network @crystalwolfblog @fancymoonreview @feral-kittykat @grossograsso @arthurbristow @thewildgardensstuff @violet-forgetmenot @tiny-roki-todoroki @jjksimp3579 @dabislittlemouse @lura-valentine @imidarogerson @bakugoscunny @chaoticpeanuteagle @misafiryanki @dagger-dragger @shonen-brainrot @unhinged-bratty-boy @indignant-alpaca @jake-lockley-vengeance @greaterheart @pridefulbakugou @leven-and-ashley @roast-toast @sahhuban @irkedpomeranian @within-eyesight @isabeauwolf

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[trumpkinhotboy]

I’ll keep an eye on you

pairing: jacob black x reader

type: not requested

genre: a bit spooky, but mostly fluffy and comforting vibes

warnings: mention of blood and being chased after (but nothing too intense)

word count: ~ 2K

requests: open! for twilight wolfpack, narnia and harry potter

a/n: honestly, i’m really excited about this fic. i think it’s very sweet and comforting :3 my brain is bubbling with so many ideas lately so expect new pieces from me in the close future hehe. also if you have any requests feel free to message me!!

i recommend listening to a Twilight Comfort playlist while reading this. Hope you enjoyy <33

part II part III

*gif is not mine!!

summary: After the reader survives an encounter with a vampire, they are still haunted by the memories of it. Luckily, they have a caring and protective friend who is always ready to ensure they feel safe and cared for, even in the middle of the night.

Wrong place, wrong time.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to erase the terrible images invading your brain. For a week now, they have been omnipresent, taking up all the space in your mind. They are the center and focal point of your thoughts for days on end. As you open them again, your vision adjusts to the darkness just enough for your gaze to fall on a strange form crouched in the corner of your bedroom. You could swear it’s alive. Swear it’s stalking you.

You jump out of your bed to turn your nightlamp on. Your heart feels like it might spring out of your chest of its own accord. Your breath is short, and for a moment, you think you’ll never be able to take one that will actually get air in your system.

The menacing form in the corner turned out to be a pile of dirty clothes, but you knew that. Since that day, you feel irrational and paranoid. Everything feels like a threat, and you are now constantly looking over your shoulder, paying close attention to any suspicious sound or absence of it. You’ve talked about it with Harry Clearwater when you unexpectedly met at the Reservation one day. You did not hear him coming, and he had set his heavy hand on your shoulder to get your attention. Which resulted in a glass shattering scream for you and a bad fright for the poor man. As he invited you in for a calming cup of tea, you unloaded the weight on your shoulder to him. It felt good to talk about it, knowing you could never do so with your dad and your friends. He assured you that it unfortunately was a very normal reaction from your nervous system. You had faced the world's most dangerous predator and had survived it without a single scratch. Of course it would take some time for your traumatized brain to go back to normal. You could never take credit for the fact that you even had a chance to go back to normal, and would never attempt to do so. Knowing very well that without Paul, Jared, and Embry’s arrival, you would not have lived to talk about this encounter.

When you focus and let your mind drift off, you can live the event again, as if you were back in time. The paralyzing fear, the blood in your veins feeling like icy water. There was nothing to be done against a creature like that. You remember the horror you felt as everything became silent around you. You were headed to Emily's cabin, a simple, straightforward walk through the woods. The birds suddenly stopped singing, even the soft wind had died down. The forest knew it was in the presence of something truly horrible and had seemed to hold its breath, along with every creature. The color of its eyes was like in every legend you had been told; crimson red, like fresh blood. Not one ounce of humanity in those orbs, just a bottomless pit of cruelty and hunger. The worst thing was the pull you remember feeling for a split second toward that monster. You knew it was its sole purpose, but felt embarrassed you had fallen for it. Shivers crawled down your spine as you recalled its ethereal and hypnotizing appearance. It’s like you can hear again the faint swooshing sound it made as it sprang towards you. You remember sending out a quick prayer to literally any entity who would be listening right now, but the blow never came. Next thing you knew, three giant beasts tackled it to the ground, gnarling and dismembering it in a matter of seconds.

You open your eyes and shake your head to try and physically get those horrible memories outside of your skull. You lay back in bed, anxiously watching every corner of your room for some sign of danger. You left the light open, you knew there was no chance you could fall asleep without it. You tucked yourself back in bed and tried to calm your breathing. You tried every technique you knew, hoping sleep would grace you with its embrace, but nothing worked.

You look back at the clock after a while. 1:15 am. It was too late for you to get out of bed, and morning was still so far away. You had school the next day and knew that if you spent one more night without sleeping, you wouldn’t be able to explain to your teachers why you dozed off again in their class without them calling your father.

In a last effort, you tried thinking about reassuring and comforting things. Curiously enough, one kept coming back to mind. A giant wolf, its fur a multitude of shades of brown and red. Its eyes were sweet and reassuring, containing a particular warmth. You looked at your phone, hesitating, but remembered his voice: “If there’s absolutely anything, call me okay?”

And so you did.

Twenty minutes later, you got a text. You quietly walked to your window, glad to see Jacob’s familiar shape outside your house. He was standing next to a tree, representing for once a friendly and reassuring shadow in the night.

He spoke quietly. “Having trouble sleeping?”

You nodded, a bit ashamed to admit such an infantile fear. Although, deep inside, you knew there was nothing childish about being afraid of the monster you had been warned about as a child, once you had come face to face with it.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I'd totally understand if you'd rather not stay. I mean it's late and you need to sleep. I don't know what I was thinking…”

“Don't be ridiculous." he cut you off. "I’m already here. And once you’ve been asleep for a long time, I’ll go home and catch up on my beauty sleep, okay?”

You knew it wouldn’t take much convincing from him, there was no point in lying. You needed him. You needed the reassurance and sense of security he always brought you.

"If you're sure then… but Jake. You won't leave too soon uh?"

You heard his low chuckle in the distance.

“I promise.”

You slowly and quietly closed your window. The last thing you would want is for your father to wake up and see Jacob standing below your window. You looked back outside, only to see a giant russet wolf had replaced your tall friend. He was standing under the covers of the woods. Forks was a tranquil little city, but you could never be too careful. He gave you a quick nod, encouraging you to go back to bed. You sent him a little thumbs up before heading to your fort of blankets and pillows.

As stupid as it might have seemed, you did feel a thousand times better knowing that Jacob was right outside, watching over you like a guardian angel. To your surprise, sleep quickly came to you, and you fell into its black hole without any resistance.

//

You’re in a dark forest, running and running and running. You can’t breathe, your hands are bloody, everything hurts. All you can hear is an echoing, cold, cruel laugh. You trip over a root and fall. Something is rushing through the dark woods, coming at you. You get back up and run in the opposite direction, but it feels like you’re not getting any further, like you're running in place. You scream for help, calling out for Jacob, Paul, Embry, Jared, ANYONE, HELP ME. But no one answers, you’re alone, and you’re about to die a horrible death. You trip once more, your leg hurts like hell, there’s no point trying to get up again. You turn around to try and decipher who, what, is running after you. Suddenly, in the dark void of the night, all you can see is that horrifying pair of bloodthirsty eyes. You let out one last scream as it sinks its teeth into your skin. //

“Y/n, y/n, wake up! It’s okay I’m here, Y/n!”

You try to run out of bed but feel a strong pair of arms holding you back. The embrace is warm and smells familiar, but you’re not controlling your limbs anymore. Your whole body is in flight mode. Luckily, the thing (person?) holding you back is strong enough to withstand it, and even though you try as hard as you can to run away, your feet aren't even touching the ground anymore.

“Y/nn, Y/n, shhh. It’s okay, I’m here, it’s me. It’s Jacob.”

You focus on the reassuring tone of the voice and try to convince yourself you're not in the woods anymore. You can see your surroundings poorly illuminated by your little mushroom night light. You're in your room, you’re safe, you’re okay.

Your breathing is still fast and shallow. You blink a few times. Sometimes, the vision surrounding you is one of the cold woods. On other, it's the familiar vision of your room. You slowly turn to face your friend’s face. His brows are furrowed, and his traits have worry written on them in bold letters. He scans you, not quite letting go of your body. Too scared you might start screaming and running again.

“Jake?” “Yes, hi. Welcome back. You really scared me there Y/n.” “What- what are you doing in here? What happened?” Your tone is feeble, and you feel exhausted. You look around once more, afraid this might be some other kind of twisted and terrifying nightmare.

“Am I still dreaming?” You dare to ask. “No, you are awake. We’re in your room. You asked me to come to keep an eye on you, remember?”

You nod, still unsure. What if this was a dream inside a dream? What if the warm limbs of your friend suddenly turned ice cold? What if you looked at him and his eyes turned red, fangs slightly poking his lips?

He can see doubt dancing in your eyes. You don't trust him, or yourself. He holds up his palms towards you, trusting you won't bolt and run.

“See for yourself. I’m real, you can touch me.”

You reach a hesitating finger, carefully poking his own. Seems real enough, feels real. It's warm, the skin is wonderfully tanned, familiar. You’ve seen those hands at work a thousand times. You know them by heart. You poke his cheek, and he gives you a tender smile.

“Convinced?”

You nod once more, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, as your legs start to shake. That's the thing about dreams, isn’t it? Even if it’s only happening inside your head, your body reacts to it as if it were actually living it. You look at your hands, feeling reminiscent of the pain as if you did scorch them in the woods.

He interrupts your thoughts with a low and soft voice. “Come back in bed. I’ll tuck you in.”

He wraps your hands with his huge ones. They’re warm and feel incredibly good. You let him guide you back to your toasty blankets, but instead of leaving, he takes a spot next to you, shielding you from the window.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a timid voice. “I’m keeping an eye on you, dummy.” Your feet are poking from under the covers. You move to offer him a bit of coverage, but he declines. He is already hot enough as he is, although he can’t deny that his heart seemed to grow a size or two at the kind gesture.

You wait a minute before asking how he ended up in your room. You're not sure you want to know, but curiosity wins over embarrassment.

His expression darkens for a second before he starts talking. “I was just keeping guard outside when I heard a noise. You were calling for me… I didn’t even think, I just got in. You were twitching in your bed. I tried to calm you down, I didn't want it to wake up Charlie, but nothing would do. I was about to forcefully wake you, but you ran out of bed and woke up by yourself.”

“Oh.” You finally let after a few seconds of silence.

“Yup.”

Unconsciously, you're not sure, he took ahold of your hand and lightly played with your fingers. He finally lifted his gaze from your joined hands to look at you, all caring and reassuring. You slide in closer to him. All you want is to feel his comforting warmth and maybe offer him as much as you can too. You feel so bad for worrying him so much. He opens up his arms and cradles you in a bear hug. He won't say it out loud, but he's also in dire need of comfort.

You match your breathing to him, and for the first time in a little while, you’re not scared, not even a little bit. If only you could stay like this forever.

After a few minutes of silence, in which you almost fell asleep, you hear him whisper.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I should have been there. I should have protected you. I’m so sorry, you don't even know.”

“It’s not your fault Jake.” You mumble, and realize you're telling the truth. These are more than empty words. Never has it crossed your mind that this might have been his fault.

“It partially is, if I didn’t drag you into all this you might have been far away. Safe, away from monsters most people don't even know exist."

“I chose to follow you into this Jake. I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of the most horrifying experiences of my life, but it was not your fault. Please get that idea out of your head, okay? I’ll get over it. I guess I just need some time, as Harry said.”

You feel almost fully awake again. He nods, but you know you haven't convinced him. The look on his face is one of guilt, one you've come to know more and more since you learned about his secret. He mindlessly played with a feather poking out of your duvet, avoiding your gaze. Once again, you realized how mature he looked, while still being so young. Too young to carry such heavy burdens. You wanted to hammer the idea out of his thick skull, but you knew there was nothing to do about it tonight. Jacob felt responsible for what happened to you, and convincing him of the opposite would take some time.

Your eyes focused on his tanned skin, and you suddenly became hyper-aware that he was in your bed while only wearing his jeans short.

You inched away of him. “Uhm, want a shirt? I’m sorry, I didn't even think that, since you were in your wolf form, you uh… wouldn’t have one?” You let out an awkward laugh. You were used to seeing him like this, but it was different when you were both lying in bed together in a space that felt so intimate.

“That's nice of you Y/n, but I don't think I'd actually fit into one of your shirts.” He snickers as you get up. You're still wrapped in a blanket as you forage in the pile of clothes next to your bed. You get out of it with a dark cotton t-shirt in hand. It's humongous for you, but you know it will fit Jake like a glove. Probably because it is one of his own.

“There, dummy.” You hand him the t-shirt before jumping back in bed to wrap yourself properly, like a human burrito.

He looks at the piece of clothing and then at you for a good 10 seconds. “You still have this?”

He genuinely looks surprised, but his expression seems mixed with a hint of… satisfaction?

You nod, your nose and eyes being the only part of your anatomy still out of the blankets. You still remember the day he lent you that shirt when you had been caught in the rain at La Push. You never returned it to him, loving the way the gigantic piece of clothing felt on you.

He didn't add anything else before putting the shirt on. “It smells a lot like you.” He adds, a slight tremor in his voice.

“That might be because I wear it a lot to sleep.” You shamefully admit. Your words are nothing more than a whisper, but you know he didn’t have any trouble hearing them. You pull the covers even higher, trying to hide the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Is that so?” He's smugly smirking. No doubt anymore that he is satisfied with that new piece of information, which makes you want to crawl even further under the covers.

You mutter a quick 'dumbass' before turning away from him. He chuckled before grabbing and pulling you on his broad chest like you weighted nothing more than a feather. You and Jake have always been comfortable with physical touch, but you feel like this is special. You have never done this before. Fine the circumstances were a bit peculiar, but that did not keep you from relishing in the warmth he diffused in waves. You didn't even bother to fake protest. This, is all you need, and you will not be foolish enough to ruin the moment. He wiggles even closer, and you can feel his chest come flush with your back through the layers of blankets. He rests his chin on the crown of your head before lightly stroking the side of his full cheek on your hair.

“Little human burrito.” He mutters. His voice is barely a whisper. Its husky tone makes you shiver. “I’ll watch over you, now go back to sleep.”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Fresh Blood | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings:

Word Count: 6382

A/N: This may be one of my favorite episodes I’ve ever written. I hope you guys love it as much as I loved writing it!!!

Also this gif i'm nutting. goodbye.

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“I’m just trying to figure out what you’re looking for here, Sam,” you explained as he paced around the room. You sat calmly on yours and Dean’s shared motel bed. 

“I thought I was pretty clear about it, (Y/N), I just want Dean to actually give a fuck about himself,” Sam continued. 

You sighed and shook your head. “You and me both. But that was not the impression you were giving either of us. I think his apology was completely warranted, and your reaction was completely dickish.” 

The brunet scoffed. “Of course, you’re on his side. Even though he’s leaving you here, to0.”

“See! That! Right there! That makes us think you want an apology from him. So are you angry at him for dying or angry at him for trying to enjoy what little he’s got left?” you replied pointedly.

Your phone rang, breaking the conversation between you and Sam. “Hello?”

“Hello, darling,” Bela cooed through the phone. “Where are you?”

“Why do you wanna know?” you asked, skeptical. 

“C’mon, I thought we established a rapport with each other. Don’t you trust me?” she replied flippantly. 

“No,” you scoffed. “So, again, why do you wanna know?”

“Was curious if you were nearby. Maybe we could have that girl talk you suggested,” she replied easily.

You still weren’t sure if you trusted her, but against your better judgment, you told her anyway. 

“That’s too bad,” she said. “Nowhere near me. Thanks anyway, love. And thank you again for saving me.” She hung up.

You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it questioningly. Bela had been a bit too pleasant, and something in you was screaming red flags at you. Even still, you pushed the feeling aside. 

Sam looked at you strangely. “Who was that?”

“Bela,” you replied, still slightly zoned out while the wheels in your head turned. “She asked where we were. Sure that won’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

***

The current town you were blowing through was home to a nest of vampires you were there to wipe out. It seemed like a standard hunt, but when was it ever with the Winchesters?

In front of you, Dean moved his flashlight over to a pool of blood on the ground of the dark alleyway. Worriedly, you and the brothers rushed toward the man whose blood was spilling out profusely. 

Fortunately, he was still conscious, and you immediately took the handkerchief out of your jacket pocket to start packing his wound. “Sam, call an ambulance,” you ordered.

“Where is she? Where'd she go?!” Dean questioned frantically. 

The man gestured vaguely down the alley, and the older brother set off down it. While you continued to try and stop the bleeding from the man’s bite wound and keep him conscious and calm, you heard Dean yell, “Smell that?! Come and get it!”

“Oh, Dean, you idiot,” you shook your head without stopping your work, knowing he’d done something stupid trying to get the vampire’s attention. 

“That's right. Come on. I smell good, don't I? I taste even better.”

You bit your lip at Dean’s taunting words, unfortunately being reminded of how good he did actually taste in the midst of your chaotic situation. 

“Come on! Free lunch!” your partner continued yelling. 

“Ambulance is on its way,” Sam told you. “Probably five minutes out.”

“Then we’d better be gone before they get here.” You looked down at the man. The bleeding had begun to slow, and he looked less panicked. “I don’t wanna leave you here, dude, but I’m gonna have to. You gonna be okay?”

He took the handkerchief from you and kept it firmly on his wound before offering a confused smile and a thumbs-up. 

You smiled down at him and pushed up off the floor. 

“Cutting it a little close, don’t you think?” you heard Sam telling Dean further down the alleyway. 

“What’d you do, you idiot?” you asked, strutting up to the boys. You then noticed Dean holding his neck, and his arm was bleeding. “Oh, Jesus— Dean!”

“Just chum in the water, sweetheart. Worked, didn't it?” the older brother smirked at you. He looked down at his undoubtedly pulsing arm. “Ow,” he whined.

“C’mon,” you said. “Let’s getcha back to the motel room and take the undead chick with us.”

Sam hoisted the vampire over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. “Let’s go.”

***

The petite, blonde vampire sat in the center of the dingy room tied to a chair. The morning sun was beginning to rise, and Sam had leaned the mattresses against the windows to block anyone from seeing into the room. Meanwhile, you were helping Dean get cleaned up. 

He sat on the last unoccupied chair beside the table in the corner. You stood next to him, carefully cleaning the wound on his neck. He hissed through his teeth as you wiped around it. “Baby, if you keep flinching, it’s gonna take even longer,” you said. 

“It fuckin’ hurts,” he whined. 

“Yeah, well, it was your bright idea to let Lady Nosferatu bite you in the neck,” you replied. 

“Lady who?” he questioned. 

“Dude— nevermind,” you snickered. When you had the gauze pad secured to his still slightly bleeding neck, you moved to address his arm. You kneeled in front of him, and Dean immediately had a wide smirk on his face. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Nothin’, just… looks like you’re about to give me head,” he snickered. 

“Dean!” you squeaked, smacking the inside of his muscular, thick thigh lightly. “Sorry, Sam.”

“It’s fine!” Sam immediately responded, and his reaction told you that he simply didn’t want to acknowledge his brother’s crudeness. 

You giggled and continued your work before you scolded, “Why’d you cut your arm so deep, you dumbass? I’m gonna have to stitch it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, next time, I’ll bring my scalpel and only cut three-fourths of an inch down,” Dean snarked. 

“That’s actually too deep,” you replied. “Dermis has the blood; only, like, three millimeters under the top layer of skin.”

“Well, excuse me, professor— Fuck!” he cursed when you stuck the needle through his arm to begin stitching it up. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you joked. 

“It hurts,” he replied, whining a little.

“Again, maybe don’t go baitin’ Jaws,” you snarked. 

His arm would tense every once in a while, but he stayed relatively quiet while you finished your work. 

“All done,” you said when you’d finished wrapping the wound in a bandage. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. Dean leaned down and tilted your chin up with his fingers to kiss you gently. 

You smiled against his lips, but the smile faded when you heard the vampire start shifting behind you. 

Immediately, Dean was all business. It was both terrifying and a huge turn-on when he “flipped the switch,” so to speak. “You with us?”

Dean questioned, leaning over the vampire who still had blood dripping from her mouth.

The girl woke up fully and struggled against her bonds.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. You're not going anywhere,” the older Winchester taunted. 

You sat where Dean had while you patched him up and crossed your legs and arms, staring intimidatingly. 

“Where's your nest?” Sam asked the vampire.

“What?” she replied, looking confused.

“Your nest,” you said as if it was obvious. “Where the rest of you freaks hang out.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she began to cry. “Please! I don't feel good.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, well, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot worse if we give you another shot of dead man's blood,” Dean hissed. 

“Just let me go,” the blonde begged.

Sam laughed. “Yeah, you know we can't do that.”

“I'm telling you the truth. I'm just... I took something. I'm freaking out! I don't know what's going on!” she cried. 

That seemed to change Sam’s approach to her. “You took something?”

“Yes! I can't... come down. I just want to come down,” she whined. 

“What's your name?” Sam asked.

“Lucy,” she responded, sniffling. “Please, just let me go.”

“Alright, Lucy, how about this?” Sam started. “If you tell us what happened, we'll let you go.”

“You will?” She looked over to you and Dean. Dean nodded insincerely, but you remained unmoving. 

“Uh, I don't really... um, it's, it's not that clear. I was at Spider,” Lucy explained. “The club, on Jefferson. And there was this guy... he was buying me drinks.”

“This guy... what's he look like?” Sam pressed.

“He was old, like thirty. He had brown hair, a leather jacket... uh, Deacon or Dixon or something. Said he was a dealer... he had something for me.”

“Something?” prompted Dean.

“Something new. ‘Better than anything you've ever tried.’ He put a few drops in my drink.”

“Was the drug red and thick?” you deadpanned. 

She nodded, and Sam hung his head in disbelief. 

“Well, genius move there. That was vampire blood he dosed you with,” Dean said, almost cold. 

“What?” Lucy squeaked. 

“Yeah, you just took a big steamin' shot of the nastiest virus out there,” Dean responded.

“You're crazy! He gave me roofies or something! No... The next thing I know, we're at his place, and he says he's gonna get me something to eat, just wait. But I get so hungry,” she whined. 

Dean moved behind your chair as he asked, “So you busted out?” 

Lucy nodded. “But it won't wear off... whatever he gave me?”

“Lights are too bright? Sunshine hurt your skin?” you said.

“Yeah... And smells. And I can... hear blood pumping!” she cried. 

“Well, I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your blood's never pumping again,” Dean explained. 

Lucy shook her head. “Not mine. Yours. I can hear a heart beating from half a block away. I just want it to stop.”

Sam looked sympathetic, and you were having a difficult time hating the girl at that moment. It was reminding you of the case with Gordon where your world was turned upside-down.

“Alright, listen, Wavy Gravy,” Dean jested, “It's not going to stop. You've already killed two people, almost three.”

The blonde sobbed, “No, I couldn't. No! I was hallucinating!”

“You killed them, alright?” Dean growled. “We've been following a sloppy trail of corpses, and it leads straight to you.”

“No. No, it wasn't real! It was the drug! Please! Please, you have to help me!”

Sam jerked his head at you and Dean, making you step out of the room. 

“No, no,” she wailed as you walked out.

“Poor girl,” said Sam when you entered the next room. 

“We don't have a choice,” Dean reminded him. 

Sam sighed, but ultimately nodded at you. On his cue, you took your machete back into the room with Lucy. 

“No… please!” she begged as you approached her. 

Almost completely devoid of emotion, you swung your machete at her neck and took her head off in one clean cut. Her head thumped to the ground beside you, and your stomach dropped slightly. 

Before you could spend too much time contemplating the morality of what you’d just done, you ordered the boys to start helping you dispose of her. You cleaned the blood off from around her mouth and closed her eyes in an attempt to give her a properly respectful funeral. Thankfully, Sam and Dean didn’t question the fact that you wanted to give her a hunter's funeral and helped you set up the pyre in the middle of the woods. 

“You okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently while Lucy’s body burned. 

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Wrong place, wrong time, and that could’ve been me.” You shook your head and took a deep breath, forcing your emotions aside. “Well, we did her a favor. At least she won’t be a blood junkie for the rest of forever.” You turned and headed back to the car, leaving both the boys behind. 

***

That night, you and the Winchesters headed to Spider, the bar that Lucy told you about. Thinking about that poor girl was beginning to make you feel sick. What was making you even sicker was watching Dean have to flirt with beautiful girls for information. You knew he was just doing his job, but it was getting under your skin watching them eye him wantonly and trail their manicured nails up his arm. Girls were approaching Sam, too, and he was barely entertaining any of them. The sight of his discomfort made you giggle. You chose to hang back against the wall with a drink in your hand. Although, at this moment, you definitely would’ve preferred a joint. 

Dean soon rejoined you against the wall, and you giggled at the uncomfortable shiver he exaggerated when he approached you. 

“What, flirting’s not your thing anymore?” you teased, although his answer was going to serve as a bit of a test.

“Nah, not with anyone else,” he replied. “Not since you.”

You smiled lopsidedly. “Find out anything useful?”

“Nope,” he replied. “That was a big, fat waste of time.”

“Awesome.”

Sam came up to you and Dean next, mirroring Dean’s uncomfortable shiver. 

“How’d it go, Casanova?” you jeered, and Sam glared at you. 

“Not great,” he replied, beginning to lead you out of the bar. “I don’t get it, though. Three blondes have gone missing, including Lucy, all last sighted here. I'm telling you, this is the hunting ground. What I can’t figure out is where the hell he—”

“You mean that guy?” you asked, pointing to a thirty-something-year-old man ducking into an alley with his arm around a pretty blonde. 

Sam looked at you concernedly, and the three of you ran after the guy and the blonde. 

“You ready, sweetie?” the man asked, voice becoming louder as you approached. “One taste of this; you'll never be the same.”

Dean charged him before he could drug the girl and clocked him squarely across the jaw. 

“Get out of here,” you told the girl, who looked startled. “Go, go!”

She listened to you and ran back toward the bar. A sickening thud had you turning back around to see Dean lying on the ground against a brick wall. The vampire had cut and run. 

“Dean!” you cried. 

“I'm good,” he groaned as you helped him up. “Come on.”

You ran after the vampire, and as you turned the corner, you came face to face with Gordon and the man that had tried to kill Sam you’d called Willem Dafoe. 

Gordon raised his gun, and you took the opportunity to sprint behind cars parked nearby to dodge the flying bullets. You pulled the brothers behind a brick wall one of the cars was parked next to and attempted to catch your breath. 

“Alright. Run,” Dean ordered you and Sam. “I'll draw them off.”

“What?!” you and Sam hissed simultaneously. Sam’s, “No, you're crazy!” and your, “No fucking way, Dean!” followed him out of the alley. You watched in horror as Dean jumped onto a car across the street from you and narrowly missed being hit by a bullet whizzing past him. Your breath released when he pulled himself over a second-story parking lot entrance, and you nodded at Sam to head down the alley further before Gordon or his friend could find you here. 

***

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you spat. “As soon as he gets back here, he’s fucking dead.”

Sam paced between the two beds while you sat angrily at the table in the motel room, flipping your knife anxiously.

“There you are!” Sam exclaimed when his brother burst through the door. 

“Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice,” Dean replied at complete ease.

You stood, face set dangerously in anger and almost daring Dean to say something to set you off even further. “Couldn’t even call us to tell us you were okay?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you continued to chastise him. “Great fucking going, by the way, runnin’ into the line of fire.”

“Well, what can I say? I'm a bad-ass.” 

You were floored at Dean’s blatant disregard of your concern and anger. His disrespect was definitely getting him closer and closer to the doghouse with each passing second. 

“So, I guess Gordon's out of jail,” Dean mentioned casually.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. You know, how the hell did he know where to find us?” Sam asked. 

Through your anger, it dawned on you. You became even further enraged. “Bela.” Before the Winchesters could make a comment, you pulled out your phone and called her. 

“Hello, darling.” You could almost hear the smile in Bela’s voice as she spoke. 

“Got something to tell me, lover?” you mockingly replied. 

“There was something, actually,” she said. “Gordon Walker paid me to tell him where you were.”

You hummed through gritted teeth. 

“Well, he had a gun on me. What else was I supposed to do?” she laughed uncomfortably. 

“Pick up the damn phone after he’s gone,” you answered, voice uncomfortably calm.

“I did fully intend to call, I just got a bit sidetracked,” she rushed out, still trying to maintain her cool and failing miserably. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was such a big deal. After all, there are three of you and one of him.”

“There were two of them, but thanks for playin’,” you remarked. 

“Oh.” You heard a shift in her tone, but you were too angry to care. 

“Listen to me closely,” you began. “If I make it out of this alive, the first fucking thing I’m gonna do is kill you.”

“You’re not serious!” she protested.

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” you responded, your voice still eerily calm. 

“(Y/N)—”

“Goodbye, Bela.” You snapped your phone shut. When you’d hung up, you took a deep breath. Your brief moment of solace was disrupted by Dean.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

To even your own surprise, you laughed; hard. You felt insane yourself, but you were so angry, you couldn’t speak. When you’d calmed down enough to talk, you hissed, “Do you think I’m fucking okay?!”

“No, I just—”

You steeled yourself. “No. We’ll talk about this later,” you asserted, and Dean snapped his mouth shut obediently. “For now, we gotta track a vamp.”

“First things first,” Dean began trepidatiously, trying not to set you off again.

“Gordon,” you nodded. 

“About that. When we find him, or if he finds us…” the older brother trailed off. “Well, I'm just saying, he's not leaving us a whole lot of options.”

Calmly, Sam stated, “Yeah, I know. We've got to kill him.”

“Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like—” he gave his best impersonation of his younger brother’s whiny voice, “ ‘No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong’.”

Sam shrugged. “No, I'm done. I mean, Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead... or till he is.”

Your phone rang, and you scowled at it when you read the caller ID. “What?!”

“I don't like it when people hold grudges against me,” Bela started, “and more to the point, I'd rather you didn't kill me, so I went ahead and found Gordon's exact location for you.”

“You're a hundred miles away. How the hell did you—”

“Hello? Purveyor of powerful occult objects?” she remarked. “I used a talking board to contact the other side.”

“And?” you prompted. 

“Warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“One more thing. The spirit had a message for you. ‘Leave town, run like hell, and whatever you do, don't go after Gordon.’ For whatever that's worth,” Bela told you before hanging up. 

You considered her words carefully and told the boys what you’d heard.

Dean, who’d been sharpening his machete, stowed the weapon in his duffel bag and immediately headed out of the door. You and Sam followed his lead. Despite the little sleep you’d been getting and the long night ahead, you felt wide awake. 

***

You were on even higher alert when you arrived at the building Bela had described. As a precaution, you and Dean grabbed machetes and handguns. Sam stayed behind you with his own gun, and the three of you carefully entered the warehouse. 

You heard what sounded like crying coming from down the stairs near the entrance, and you motioned for Sam and Dean to follow you. 

As the room below came into view, you were stunned to see the vampire you’d been looking for kneeling; surrounded by the bodies of young girls with their heads having been ripped manually from their bodies. About a dozen blonde and bloodied heads lay scattered mercilessly across the floor, and despite your years of experience, your stomach turned at the sight. 

“Go ahead,” the vampire encouraged, unmoving. “Do it. Kill me.”

“What happened here?” Sam asked him. 

“Gordon Walker,” he sniffed. “I never should have brought a hunter here. Never. I just... I just wanted some kind of revenge. Stupid... exposing him to my family.”

“Oh, yeah, you're such a family man,” Dean couldn’t help but remark. 

The vampire paused for a tense moment. “You don't understand.”

“I don't want to understand, you son of—”

The vampire cut him off, standing and crying out, “I was desperate! You ever felt desperate?”

You turned to see Dean with that infuriatingly unreadable expression on his face. 

“I've lost everyone I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?” he said, approaching you. 

You tightened your grip on your machete.

Despite how the vampire’s words were clearly beginning to affect him, Dean snarkily replied, “Well, there's Hell.”

“I wasn't thinking. I just... I didn't care anymore. Do you know it's like when you just don't give a damn? It's like... it's like being dead already.” He looked down at your machete. “So just go ahead. Do it.” 

Sam was bent over, inspecting the heads of the girls that lay on the floor. “Dean. Head wasn't cut off, it was ripped off. With someone's bare hands. Dixon, what did you do to Gordon?”

Dixon didn’t respond for a moment. 

“He asked you a question,” you stated firmly. 

“I turned him,” was Dixon’s immediate reply. 

You dropped your head in frustration before immediately recovering and swiping Dixon’s head clean off. 

***

When both boys had gone to bed, you snuck out to the Impala wrapped in a hoodie and sweatpants. Illuminated only by the moon and a singular streetlight across from your rural motel, you rolled a joint sitting on the trunk and staring up at the sky. As the smoke filled your lungs, you fought back your rising emotions. 

A few minutes later, Dean walked up beside you. He stared straight ahead, as did you. “You should get some sleep,” Dean instructed.

You remained unmoving and took another hit of your joint. Your long inhale and exhale was making Dean nervous for your response; you could practically feel his anxiety radiating off him despite how he tried to hide it. “I’ll sleep when I know I’m not losing both of you,” you finally replied quietly.

He scoffed, and you saw him drop his head to the side out of the corner of your eye. “What do you mean, you’re not losing—”

“You took a big fucking risk, Dean,” you cut him off. “You’re getting more and more reckless.”

“It’s a dangerous gig, (Y/N),” he argued, voice steely. “We all take risks every once in a while.”

“Risks is different than attempted suicide, dude,” you replied.

“When’s the last time Sam or I jumped in front of two firing guns?”

“That’s just ‘cause you guys are pussies—”

“No, dammit!” You stood and threw your joint to the ground, stamping it out. You turned to him for the first time in your conversation. “I am so tired of your crap! Do you know what it feels like to watch you take greater, dumber risks than you already normally do because you know you have an expiration date?! Why are you acting like you want to rush it? Because you and I both know you’re terrified—”

“You don’t know that,” Dean shook his head, brows drawn together and jaw clenched in anger.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “Because I know you. And I love you. And—” your voice broke, but you pushed through the angry tears, “selfishly, I don’t wanna lose the little bit of time I have left with you because you’re on some… kamikaze trip or whatever.”

Dean stared down at you, and you stared back despite the tears steadily sliding down your cheeks. After a moment, he pulled you into his chest and rested his head on top of yours. You wrapped your arms around him and deeply inhaled his scent. Dean kissed the top of your head, and you sighed contentedly. 

“Please don’t make this harder for me,” you begged him. “Please.” You pulled away from him and gingerly touched his cheek. “And don’t give up on my boy just yet, okay?”

Dean nodded and kissed your palm. You figured he hadn’t spoken in a while because he was choking back tears of his own that were now beginning to slip down his cheeks.

“And when you’re scared, talk to me. Please. Please, just talk to me,” you implored. “I know you say you’re not good at the ‘touchy-feely’ or whatever, but you don’t have to do this alone. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, voice rough with emotion. 

You pulled his face down to yours and kissed him gently, savoring the way Dean’s lips felt against yours; soft and pillowy in contrast to the rough stubble in your hands given he hadn’t shaved in a few days. When you pulled away, he kept you close to him by your waist. “Talk to me, baby. I’m here for you always. Even when you’re gone,” you said. “I… I don’t know what it’s like down there. But if you can talk, talk to me. Tell me what it’s like. Tell me when it hurts and when you’re scared. Because you are never alone.”

Dean rested his forehead against yours and shut his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you,” he murmured. 

You tilted your chin up and kissed the tip of his nose. “You didn’t have to do anything. You deserve love, Dee. Just for simply being you.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, his voice conveying every bit of brokenness he was feeling. 

Dean was averting his eyes from your face, but you returned your hands to either side of his face and made him look at you. “Because you are the most… loving man I have ever met.”

When he shook his head and tried to look away, you kept him in his place. 

“No, look at me,” you continued tearfully. “Remember when I told you I didn’t know what love felt like? ‘Cause of my parents and all that?”

Dean nodded. 

“I know what it feels like now. Because of you,” you told him, an emotional smile tugging on the corners of your lips. “You… are changing me. For the better. And I’m gonna tell you something stupid and cliche—”

“Oh, god—” he groaned, chuckling.

“—so just brace yourself, okay?” you laughed, sniffling. “To know you is to love you. I’m dead serious. And I know you don’t believe me. I know you see yourself, like… like a weapon. The way your dad raised you…” you shook your head, feeling yourself become angry that Dean was raised similarly to you. “I mean, he pretty much trained you to hate yourself. But you are so much more than what he made you believe you are.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” you continued. “I mean, I’m fucking pissed at you for throwing yourself in the line of fire, but I know why you do it. Because you love me. And you love Sam. And as much as it infuriates me, you’d rather die than watch Sam or I do so.” You snorted, “I mean, that’s why we’re in this deal situation to begin with, right?” pulling a chuckle from Dean. 

“So can you do something for me?” you asked.

“Anything if it’ll get you to shut up,” he smirked, and you knew it was because he couldn’t handle much more verbal affection. 

“Start treating you the way I see you,” you said. “Like… treat yourself like you matter. ‘Cause you do. And I love you.”

His face was contorted in a confusing mix of discomfort from the onslaught of affirmation, love for you, and what seemed like pride in hearing you talk about him like that. 

“Can you do that for me?” you asked. 

Dean nodded. “I’ll try.”

***

The next night, you and the boys were regrouping in the motel room following having searched the city for Gordon all day long. A little over two hours ago, you’d returned from getting new phones for you and the brothers in an attempt to avoid Gordon tracking you through the SIM cards on your original devices, and it seemed the two boys had a deep conversation while you were gone. For that, you were thankful; the two had needed to hash it out for a while now. 

Much to your surprise, your phone rang. 

“You've had that phone two hours, (Y/N),” Sam said, confused. “Who'd you give the number to?”

“Nobody,” you replied, mirroring his surprise. “Hello?” you answered the phone. 

“Hi, sweetie.”

You turned to the boys and put your phone on speaker. “How’d you get this number?” you asked, stepping back from the phone as if Gordon could jump out and hurt you through it. 

“Your scent's all over the cellphone store,” Gordon explained. He seemed to realize you had put him on speaker. “Gotta tell you, Dean, your girl smells good. Of course, I can't smell her now. Where are you?”

Dean’s jaw clenched in fury, and he spat, “Well, I guess you'll just have to find us, won't you.”

“I’d rather you come to me,” Gordon replied smoothly. 

“What's the matter, Gordo? You're not afraid of us, are you? We're just sitting here. Bring it on!” Dean challenged. 

“I don't think so.” 

Then, you heard the voice of a woman crying through the phone. 

Your eyes widened slightly in fear for the girl, and Gordon shushed the girl on the other end of the line. “Factory on riverside off the turnpike. Be here in twenty minutes, or the girl dies.”

“Gordon, let the girl go,” Dean asserted. “Bye, Dean,” Gordon said.

“Gordon!” Dean yelled, stopping him from hanging up the call. “Don't do this. You don't kill innocent people. You're still a hunter.”

“No,” he chuckled coldly. “I'm a monster.” And with that, he hung up. 

***

“I’m gonna waste that fucker, I swear,” you growled as you helped Sam and Dean untie the girl Gordon had kidnapped. 

“Hey, we got you,” Sam told her. “Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here.” He gave her a few instructions to begin leading her out of the factory. 

The woman sobbed, and the poor thing could barely walk. Dean cradled her in his arms, instructing you and Sam to stay close. Unfortunately, the two of you were not close enough. A door slid closed from above, cutting you and Sam off from Dean. 

“Sam!” Dean yelled. “(Y/N)!”

“Dean!” you cried, pushing at the door. 

Sam pounded the door in frustration. You gave it one final kick, which you knew was pointless, but it helped to get a little anger out. 

“Both of you; be careful!” Dean instructed through the door. 

Then, the lights went out. 

“Sam!” you called through the darkness. 

“Right here!” 

You followed his voice till you were back-to-back with him, the two of you trying your best to get your bearings in the dark. 

“Sorry, sweetie, didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this,” Gordon spoke through the darkness, his voice still hauntingly even as ever. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you hissed. 

“Gordon! You got me where you want me. You might as well come out and fight!” Sam asserted. 

Suddenly, Gordon’s voice seemed to be between your and Sam’s head. “I'm right here, Sam.”

The two of you swished your machetes, the two hitting each other and igniting sparks for a brief moment. 

“What's the matter, Sammy?” Gordon chuckled. 

“So, this is really the way you want to do it, huh?” Sam taunted despite his growing anxiety. 

“Damn right I do,” Gordon snarled. “You have no idea what I faced to get here. I lost everything. My life. But it's worth it, 'cause I'm finally gonna kill the most dangerous thing I ever hunted. You're not human, Sam.”

“Look who's talking,” you replied.

“You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer.” Gordon’s voice sounded like it was coming from every direction.

“Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice,” Sam said, back still pressed to yours. 

“I don't,” Gordon responded. 

“Yes you do, Gordon. You didn't kill that girl.”

“No, I didn't. I did something much, much worse.” You could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” you cursed. 

“Remember what happened the last time you talked bad about my mother, (Y/N)?” the vampire taunted, voice sounding in front of you. 

You swiped at the darkness, but Gordon was too fast for you. 

“I got to hand it to you, Sam,” Gordon began. “You got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna… as soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds. Killing you, and killing myself.”

“You fucker!” you charged right where you’d nailed Gordon’s voice down as emanating from as he spoke, and you tried to swipe at him. Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get to Gordon fast enough. He sent you flying through the door you’d been separated from Dean by, and you collapsed to the floor in a painful heap. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean cried. 

“I’m fine!” you yelled back, trying your best to brush it off. Your whole body hurt like hell, but you would not be useless in this fight. You grabbed your machete just in time to see Gordon fling Sam across the room. 

Dean aimed the Colt at Gordon’s head, but Gordon wheeled around to grab Dean’s arm. He threw your partner against the wall and pinned him, sinking his teeth into Dean’s neck. 

“No!” you screamed, throwing yourself at Gordon. You managed to get your arm around his neck and pull him to the ground with you. Much to your chagrin, Gordon recovered quickly, and he immediately tried to get a bite in at your neck. With an almost delighted smile, you slashed at Gordon’s head. It rolled away from you, and the rest of Gordon’s body slumped to the ground next to you. 

You didn’t take more than a moment to catch your breath before you staggered to your feet to help your boys. 

Sam was still in a heap on the floor trying to catch his breath, and Dean clutched his neck in pain. Despite the pain in your own body, you staggered toward Sam to help him up. The two of you groaned as you did so, and he threw an arm around your shoulders for support. Dean staggered to you, too, and the three of you stumbled off; each trying to support the other’s weight.

***

Somewhere between cities, Dean pulled off to the side of the road due to a rattling noise coming from under the hood and worked away at it. Meanwhile, you took three beers out of the cooler. You passed one to Dean when you’d opened it for him, and Sam sat on the lid of the cooler while he drank his. 

“Thanks,” Dean smiled lopsidedly at you. 

“Figure out what's making that rattle?” the younger brother asked. 

“Not yet. Give me a box wrench, would you?” 

Sam rifled through the toolbox and handed it to his sibling. 

Dean thanked him but paused, looking thoughtful. “Sam,” he said. 

“Wrong one?” 

“No, no, no, come here for a second.”

Sam looked confused, but he got up and leaned under the hood with Dean. 

You looked on, a smile pulling at your lips, and you replaced Sam on the cooler’s lid. 

“This rattle could be a couple of things. I'm thinking it's an out-of-tune carb,” Dean began to explain, gesturing to something within the car you couldn’t see. 

Sam still looked confused. “Okay.” “Alright, see this thing?” Dean gestured to something else. “It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench.”

Sam did so. 

“Alright, you with me so far?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads.”

“Very good,” Dean nodded. “Now this is your intake manifold, okay, and on top of it?” He paused, looking at Sam expectantly. Sam smiled, trying to remember. “It's, uh, uh, a carburetor.”

Dean nodded, repeating the word. “Very good.”

“What's with the auto shop?” Sam asked. 

Dean held out the socket wrench to Sam, ignoring his question. 

“What, you don't mean you want—” 

Dean cut his brother off. “Yeah, I do. You fix it.”

“Dean, you barely let me drive this thing.”

The older man shrugged. “Well, it's time. You should know how to fix it. You're gonna need to know these things for the future.”

Your heart clenched at Dean’s admission. 

“And besides, that's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?” he continued. 

Sam nodded and took the wrench, swallowing down a little emotion. Even still, he leaned under the hood and started unscrewing. 

Dean gestured for you to stand. He took your place on the cooler and patted his thigh. Happily, you perched atop it, and the two of you watched Sam. 

Dean took a sip of his beer, lazily stroking your hip. “Put your shoulder into it,” he instructed Sam.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld