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spookyserenades · 4 months ago

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Sanctity - Chapter One

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 22.8k

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

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

Next Chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was your task today, Joey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There is no way to know–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was your breakfast, Miss?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Negatively, sir?”

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

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

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

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

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

“How old…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Edmund?”

“Yes, child?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-wha–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Blood?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which documents are those?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Elaborate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come here, little girl.

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

Sit.

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

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

Sit down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are going to be calm while I do this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stay still, little girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Get up.

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

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

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

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kittyscupcakeandbunny · 3 months ago

Text

My BFF is a Vampire

18+

CRIMSON EYES 🩸

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: This story contains nsfw content (descriptive blood, gore, etc.) as well as sexual content. Mentions may include violence, self harm, attempt to suicide, consumption of alcohol and blood, male and male sexual content, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, blood play, death, description of injuries, themes of major horror/psychological horror and also explores obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. The story will contain aspects of the show Vampire Diaries and the BTS Wings era.

>If you are sensitive to any of these themes please do not proceed with the story.<

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 • 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 >

Chapter One🩸

The night felt cooler then usual. That for Spring Villa was uncanny but nothing about this town was near close to normal, I felt breathless. Running through the woods with nothing but the full moon above me to light up the path between the tall trees, the cold air burned inside my lungs.

I couldn’t stop even if I wanted too, my feet seems to move on their own. I should hide, I knew that. His presence became more obvious as the sound of his footsteps behind me became louder and clearer.

Every breath I took.

Closer.

Every step away.

Closer.

Until I couldn’t breath anymore, falling miserable on the cold wet path of the night. I could hear him laughing behind me, his deep breathy chuckled bitterly echoed around me.

I needed to get up.

But I couldn’t. My body wasn’t mine, I couldn’t move even if I begged myself to.

Vision getting blurred the more I tried to breath but no air was coming to my lungs, until the horrified feeling of a cold hand closed around my neck turned me around.

I couldn’t see his face even when he was so close to me, all I could see was his red eyes staring at me as he took my last breath.

The loud beeping noise of my alarm woke me up abruptly, I was breathless completely covered in cold sweat once again. I looked over the small vintage silver clock over my nightstand, glad it was still early in the morning and I had more then enough time to get ready to work at the Spring Grill.

A sight left my lips once I was finally able to catch my breath, once again I had the same dream. By this time I should’ve become used to them, It has been years since I started having weird nightmares, every damn night. It became unbearable and at some point I had to go to the hospital once after waking up screaming, I don’t remember anything from that night just that the nightmares continued since then. I used to take pills to help me sleep and at first they helped but as time passed they simply stopped working and I was too tired to ask for more, because of my reputation the doctors could’ve locked me at the mental facility and feeling helpless I just stopped taking them, I gave up on trying to stop the nightmares. They won’t go away no matter what I do. What’s the point fighting?

The day had just started and I felt restless.

Tired from knowing exactly what would happen after I opened the door of my room and went downstairs, knowing exactly how my day is going to start and how is going to end. Every day is the same for me. I wished I could say something about it but there is nothing especial about my life in this town.

I was known for being the weird girl, psycho girl down the street with an alcoholic mother who every neighbor hates now.

I used to be someone just like everyone, I had dreams like every other girl in high school did and I wanted more from life than anyone else did. I was alive.

For years I tried so hard not to let my parents actions get the best of me but now I feel like I can’t bearly breathe, my mother drank all her emotions away with alcohol till the bottles are empty just like herself.

I’m no better then her. Hiding away my scars with a jacket so no one knows it. Not that they would care anyway.

Once I’m pleased with my appearance after getting ready, making sure to hide the dark circles under my eyes with make up. I hold on tight to the door before opening in a breath, immediately holding my breath as I walk down the corridor to the stairs. A sight of relief washes over me as I notices she’s still asleep in the couch as I walk over the door as quietly as possible.

Mom was passed out again and thankfully on the right time for me to leave unnoticed by her.

Another sight of relief leaves my lips as I could finally breath in the cold air of Spring Villa, it was not always that I could leave home without any trouble caused by my mother. I was always grateful when I could.

And for just this once I could actually smile. Even though I knew everything would crash down when I get home later at night. For now I let myself breath for once.

Making my way through the empty streets till I get to the Grill, it won’t be a long walk anyway. Spring Villa was not known for being a big city, you could walk pretty much all around here and you could never be late. Every place here was placed right next to it, especially the neighborhood that’s why you can’t keep secrets in his town. People are so noisy here.

The center of the city was much more busy today, more tourist must have come since Halloween is in two months now. The perfect time to spread the old reports about the city’s history of a serial killer. People are so empty it makes me sad for them, but in all honesty sadness is all you can find in this city.

Once I finally get to my destination I open the wooden doors to the Spring Grill immediately being embraced by its warm interior, making my way to the staff room quickly changing into the Grill apron marking my shift as I leave the staff room. Today I’ll be serving tables in the morning and later I’ll serve at the bar.

No one minds my presence here so I just embrace my own thoughts and begin my work.

For the entire day I’ve been working, I wished it lasted longer. Contradicting I know. Even though I was tired like hell and my feet hurt just as bad; Even though I could already feel sweat running down the back of my neck and my arms felt like jelly from holding heavy trays with food and drinks for hours, the thought of heaving to go back home was never a pleasant one for me.

My shift was almost done and I moved as slow as possible with no desire to go home I was still behind the bar in case any costumers come for a few drinks, it was night already yet the Grill was just as agitated as it was in the afternoon. People didn’t care for their safety anymore, they would stay up all night drinking at Spring Villa even though our little city was known for a serial killer case, all they wanted was something to gossip about anyway and here, it was the serial killer case still unsolved after years.

Quickly to my distraction a costumer just made his way to the bar, he sat on the barstool asking for a bottle of beer. I made my way to get it for him filling a cup with ice and putting in front of him as well as the opened bottle, he thanked me without looking my way throwing a few dollar bill over the bar to pay.

I simply took it. I wasn’t used to kindness in this place, no one here seemed to know what it meant anyway.

The sound of the ring above the door signs for more costumers and I immediately looked up to see who it might be, noticing the familiar faces as he also noticed me from further away.

My best friend.

He was the only one who knew who I was and still chose me to be his friend, Jungkook wasn’t like the people from Spring Villa. He had an energy around him that even from afar you could tell he was special. He wasn’t even from here. He shined wherever he was and always became the life of the party, his smiled was a punch in the stomach of everyone one from this city, a face that was a constant reminder of how different and full of life he was. The truth was no one knows we’re he comes from or any of his friends, not even me. I never bother to ask him too. I always assumed he could tell me whenever he felt ready for it and apart from that, there was nothing we didn’t know about each other.

I only knew a few of his guy friends, with Jungkook there were seven of them and they all lived together with the oldest of the group in his house. I never asked him what his friends did for a living or what they’d were here for as it wasn’t Jungkooks place to say anyway and we both hated gossip. I knew he wasn’t like the other people who only came here for the serial killer case and that was enough for me to not ask questions. I was closer with him and his friend Jimin, who’d usually hang around with us the most, the others were much busier and didn’t stick around us much so I haven’t meet them yet and bearly knew them.

Seeing him together with his friend Jimin and the white haired Hoseok was something for the eyes to see, from any distance you could tell they were not from this small city.

From the way they all dressed so sophisticated and the way they walk, talk, even breath to every detail on them you could tell they where perfect. No one here was at their level, people tended to do everything to keep it to themselves so it doesn’t call for unnecessary attention to themselves. I still remember when they first came here, everybody talked about them for three months and so many rumors began to rise about them. The boys kept things to themselves and only talked to a few people from town, so gossip about them were all over the town as soon as they stepped foot in here. It wasn’t like any other tourist who came to town, they came to stay and that made the rumors about them grow even more especially since they all looked anything from normal.

Hoseok was well know because of his white hair and the signature sunglasses he wore all the time, some said he was blind and some said he had devil eyes. People said all sorts of things about them for their looks and I honestly thought the people in this town were just being mean at this point, these people never seemed to have something to do and were always on someone else’s business. The few things I heard about Jimin was; how he was always out with a red haired man at night, always at the company of a woman or a men and by far he was the most popular with people.

Jungkook was the rumored bad boy, always up to something bad and some people spreed that he was in a gang, that he was a criminal and today we just laugh at that. I couldn’t even begin to imagine him as such rumors portrayed him.

I didn’t care much about it, after a few weeks talking with Jungkook he told me the oldest of his friends Jin was the son of one of the founders of Spring Villa and that’s way they came here, they were staying at his late fathers house the mansion on the other side of the city.

I was surprised no one know anything about the founders of Spring Villa - since gossip was their priority around. But people only talked about what they wanted and what they wanted to hear, even when it wasn’t true.

I watched as Jungkook parted ways with his friends who took one of the tables on a corner and make his way to the bar were I was, a smirk playing around his lips as he did so. He looked incredibly handsome tonight, like usual. He wore a black outfit, never a fan of colors as he would always tell me, a leather jacket over the long sleeve shirt and loosen jeans ripped on the knees.

I replied with a smile of my own, watching as he sat on the bar stool in front of me.

“when is your shift ending tonight?” he asked, as soon as he took the bar stool in front of me. A playful look glimmered in his eyes, by his tone I knew he would ask me to join later.

“in an hour, why?” I said, cleaning over the bar in front of us to place a glass with ice for him, turning around to get him his usual whiskey.

“perfect, we’ll have enough time to get a few drinks before going to the bonfire that’s happening by the lake” at his words I turned around quickly looking at him dumbfounded.

“we? who said I was going?” I teased.

“I did” he said as if it was nothing, pushing his glass towards me to fill it, scoffing playfully I did so.

He looked up at me with biggest puppy eyes ever, leaning his head slightly to the side. I chuckled knowingly.

“oh no, I know this look…” I tell him as I filling another glass of whiskey for him. “…and it won’t work. Jungkook you know I hate parties.”

“Yeah but… this is different” he says, almond eyes shining through his long lashes as he stared at me with a sly smile.

“really how?”

“I’ll be there” he said drink all of the liquid in his hand in one gulp. “my friends too, so come please?”

I looked over the table his friends were sat at, they were looking over us too. No wonder, Jungkook must’ve told everyone one he knew I was going already. Not that many people would care if I showed up or not, he was the only one who does care.

If this was the only way to not go home tonight, might as well just grab the chance. For once I could walk out of my sad blue and gray routine.

“ok I’ll go with you” I finally tell him, filling his glass one more time.

“I knew you would” his eyes seemed to light up above his smirk in that moment, making my heart skip a beat. It was a different kind of look, one I have never seen before.

I would be the biggest lier if I ever say I didn’t had a crush on him, Jungkook was one of the most handsome men on Spring Villa ever since he step foot here. All woman and men lined up in front of him for a chance to be with him, he was definitely a catch.

Anyone could tell he was hot just by looking, he had his own special charm to make people fall in love with him instantly. Not only did he had a beautiful body that you could definitely tell was all toned even under all the dark loosen clothes he wore but, he had his way with everybody and all it took was one look and a charming smile from him and you would fall on his knees, he didn’t go by anyone unnoticed. People here either loved him or hated him, no in between. I knew from the moment I first saw him that nothing could ever happen between us, that’s why we have such strong friendship.

I couldn’t help but let my eyes wonder from every now and then, every time I would notice him looking away I let myself get a glimpse of his beautiful body and his beautiful face.

But he was much more then that to me, he was my best friend. One of the only ones I had and I wouldn’t let anything mess that up, even my own feelings. I would push anything aside to keep him by my side, even if is my heart.

He deserves more. More then I could ever be.

“oh right…” he suddenly said “you like girls right?”

“what!?” I exclaimed, flushed at his sudden question.

“what, what?” he lifted his eyebrows up surprised “you never said anything about boyfriends and I never saw you with a guy, I’m starting to wonder….”

“no…” i like you, you idiot. Is what I want to say, but I can’t and I shouldn’t. Never. “Don’t just assume that kind of thing…”

“well then what do you like, I need to know so I can set you up with someone for the bonfire” he said.

“I like boys, and you don’t need to set me up with anyone.”

“ok.”

“besides is not like anyone is interested in me or what so ever” I began to angrily clean the bar top.

“ok, sorry for pushing kitty” he said, stoping me from cleaning with his hand over mine.

I immediately looked up at him, heart beat skipping a beat as I gulped down. His eyes scanned my face, i tried my best not to show how the nickname affected me focusing on the light in his eyes as they seemed to shine different tonight almost making them look brighter like whiskey mixed with wine. I was completely lost in him again, too much to notice his cold hand over mine as his smile brought my attention to his lips. Wet and pink.

“you’ll take our table for the rest of your shift right?” he asked softly.

“of course, who else can put up with you guys?” I tell him.

He only chuckled nodding towards me, he got up from his seat and gave me one last smile before turning around to go back to the table with his friends. I wished i could tell that smile went past me and didn’t effect me as much as he always did, he was my only friend why did such feelings had to rise from my chest every time i was with him?

Once again i shut that door in my heart to stop them from rising again.

For some reason the past hour felt like an eternity, i carried on serving Jungkooks table for the rest of my shift as they order as much they could drink for the time being before it was time to go to the bonfire, Jungkook was with two of his friends tonight and it always amazed me how much they drink and don’t even looked halfway drunk. I knew they were seven although it has difficult to see all of them together at the same time, i only knew their names through Jungkook and a few things about them as he would tell me sometimes. How they all meet one by one as the years passed through trips around the world.

He mentioned how he first meet Hoseok when he went to a contemporary dance concert at a music festival and at the same week he meet Taehyung who were there to play violin at the festival, he said they all clicked with each other immediately and a few months later they run into Jimin in a party as well as Yoongi as they already knew each other. It seemed Yoongi already knew Jin the oldest and Jin knew Namjoon from birth as they grew up together away from Spring Villa.

I haven’t meet the older friends yet, they all seemed to be occupied with something as Jungkook would always tell me. He admire his friends very much from how he always speaks so passionately of them to me from time to time. So far i only knew Jimin since he and Jungkook were always together as well as Hoseok who sometimes tags along with the two, although they were very closed to each other i never saw them with the other three.

One look at the clock and a sight of relief left my lips as i notice my shift was about to end, making my way towards the staff room to change and hit the end of my shift, I quickly take my things from my locker before walking out of the staff room. I wished i knew he would invite me out for the bonfire, I would have put a bit more of an effort into how i looked before going out.

Whilst making my way towards their table I tried to fix my hair the best I could, untying the messy bun i did earlier to work and letting my hair fall messily down my back. I watched as the three of them seemed to be heaving a fun conversation before Jungkook turned towards my direction a smirk on his lips as he looked me up and down rising his eyebrows playfully.

“are you guys ready to go?” i said, once i finally stood in front of them catching their stares.

“yes boss” said Jimin, while getting up from his seat being fallowed by the two others.

“are we walking there?” i asked Jungkook taking his side while we made or way out of the Grill.

“yeah, is not that far from here” he took a cigarette from his pocket lightening it up while we walked down the cold streets of Sping Villa.

The smoke filling the humid air around us, it hadn’t rain in a few days here which was honestly a miracle. That was unusual in a city that rained more than anything, at times like this i really wondered if the reason why the serial killer just wasn’t caugh because the rain cleaned his traces.

How lucky and convenient for someone to attack this small town, I couldn’t help but think about it from time to time. Even though i would always brush this thoughts away from my mind now letting Jungkook and his friends voice fill my head as we make our way to the bonfire on the west side of town. Although it was away from the town it didn’t took too long for us to get there, a bonfire in Spring Villa was rare due to the heavy rains that were present every day here. People must been excited about it, something i was unfamiliar with. All senses of joy for me were short lived, I didn’t have a choice but to give up on them. Not because i wanted but, because they were stolen from me each time.

I looked up at the sky watching as the full moon shined above me, the sky never looked so clear before. Full of stars to replace the clouds and cover us and more light.

It felt warmer to be under the moon for once, I couldn’t remember the last time i saw her.

“you okay?” Jimin whispered over my ear, one arm closing around my neck as he showed me a smile.

“yeah” i replied his smile.

Out of all of them - or at least, the ones i knew - Jimin was the most touchy person, Jungkook could get clingy sometimes but usually only when he needed something in return. Even though he was a men after all, i never once felt uncomfortable close to him. He always had a soft energy around him that just brings you into him each time, it took some time before we got close enough to be like this though with each other. The first time we meet he couldn’t even look at me without shying away, it was cute.

I circle my arm around his waist and we make our way together.

“oh… i see why don’t have to set you up with anyone…” Jungkook said, playfully beside me eyeing us together.

“hey, his my friend too” i glare at him playfully.

“see? she’s mine too” Jimin taunts beside me, pulling me from the shoulders as he closed around me a deep chuckle filling the air from his chest.

I chuckled with him too distracted by his smile and hands around me to notice we were the only ones laughing, too absorbed by his eyes over mine to look anywhere else.

Everything just felt like slow motion whenever i was with them, i could bearly see through it all. And i loved every little second of it - anything to stay out of home.

I didn’t liked parties much, I never understood what was so special about them. Maybe if you have friends it is more enjoyable to be partying, since for a long time people didn’t wanted to be close to me I just shut myself down from everything I could.

Until Jungkook showed up I had no one by my side, now with him and his friends I can actually enjoy a bit of fun.

Just like I predicted it didn’t took us much longer to arrive at the bonfire, I watched around us all the young people laugh over the loud music with red cups in hands. Some danced, some just sat around the big bonfire drinking and just talking while some were courageous enough to be swimming at the lake.

Jungkook guided us to a big fallen tree in a corner closer to the lake to sit there, him and Jimin left quickly to get us some drinks and Jungkook came without Jimin saying his getting something stronger.

I took one beer from him as Hoseok did the same, sitting between the too boys.

“oh god I hate this…” immediately regretted taking a sip of the cheap drink.

“what? The party?” Hoseok asked beside me.

“no… this disgusting liquid” I turned to the white haired boy putting the bottle down.

“oh, not everyone does” he chuckled. “what do you like drinking?”

“sweet!” Jimins loud voice interrupted before I could answer.

He sat in front of us all giggly with which I assumed was a stolen bottle of strawberry Smirnoff.

“she likes the strong and sweet drinks”Jimin answered for me.

“you’re right, thanks Jimin.”

He gives me a wink fallowed by a small nod opening the bottle for me to have a sip, we all drank a few times together and I remember mentioning that I hated beer and preferred sweeter drinks and wine, I didn’t know he would remember as we usually were completely nocked out drunk.

“want some?” I offer to Hoseok.

“oh yes…” he took the bottle from my hand, cold fingers brushing over mine.

A chill went down my body for a second and a hugged myself, watching as he drank a good amount lips slightly wet from the drink.

He handed me back the bottle, the fire shining on the dark glasses on his face.

“isn’t it too dark for you?” i playful ask.

“a little…” he smiled, taking it off.

I tried to hide my surprise when I saw his eyes for the first time, the fire reflected in them wildly almost like a reflection on a mirror. His eyes were of a blue so clear to a white shade I could swear o saw galaxies in them, I can’t understand why he would want to hide them he looked even more beautiful without the glasses.

I don’t question him anymore deciding to enjoy the time with them by drinking some more, I let time completely go forgotten for now watching the fire burn in front of me.

At some point i knew i was completely drunk already, the bottle in my hand wasn’t the same from before and my body felt lighter. Everything that was coming out of Jimins mouth seemed to be the most funny joke I’ve ever heard, he kept me entertained for the most time taken me to dance a few times even.

But I couldn’t keep up with his energetic self, body tired from working a whole shift at the Grill.

Then again he would pull me out to dance again this time taking the white haired boy with us, the three of us drunk as hell dancing together with the people around the bonfire.

The hot heat warmed my body and for once I felt the happiest for once, nothing matter in the world anymore and all my problems had evaporated completely from my mind.

When Hoseoks cold hands took mine into his to dance bringing my body closer to his, I let him. Giggling like an idiot with my cheeks hotter then the fire burning beside us, when he brushed my hair back exposing my skin I simply let him.

I could feel his drunken giggles over my face as he spin me around, hands holding my waist but it wasn’t his anymore. Looking up I’m meet with Jimins sweet eyes and smile.

Every cell in my body was being pulled towards him, as if I was in a dream a state I could no longer control my body and only watch what was happening.

Watching as my body leaned forward into his, the only moment I felt like my body belonged to me when I felt the shivers running down my skin as he brushed the hair away from my shoulder, eyes staring down at my lips the more he leaned into me.

Just then before he could move another centimeter closer, Jimin was pulled away from me as well as the dreamy state I was in.

All together I felt my senses come back, the sound of loud music and people’s talking around us, the smell of fire burning. Jungkook stood in front of me anger clearly reflected on his features as he stared silently at Jimin who looked at him with the same intensity.

I watched the two of them confused, feeling a gentle pull at my arm from behind me I turned quickly looking up and Hoseok.

He muttered a “let’s go” and I fallowed him wherever he was going, turning back a few times to check on the two males we just left.

We stood closer to a truck filled with all sorts of drinks, Hoseok grabbed a few water bottles from it and we stood close to a big old tree. I could see all the bonfire from here as well as Jungkook and Jimin leaving together into the dark entrance of trees.

After drink half of the water I looked up at Hoseok who still looked where the two boys just went.

“what happened?” I asked him, feeling completely lost. “was it something I did?”

“no y/n…” he turned to me, clearly trying his best to hide what he truly felt in that moment “you didn’t do anything it’s just… they have something’s going on right now, it’s a bit complicated.”

“oh… oh” the realization hits me like a brick.

From the time I’ve been friends with Jungkook I knew that both, men and woman were always there for him trying to get with him. I just never saw him with someone before and now everything made sense to me, he had something with Jimin.

That thought made things more complex to me, I just couldn’t understand why he never mentioned to me before. We were friends.

After some time had passed I realized that maybe that was because of me, Jungkook must’ve seen all of that and now they are fighting.

I couldn’t bear that, I never knew that could happen and before I even know I was already making my way into the dark trees without Hoseok noticing.

If they fight because of me I have to clear things out, beyond that I felt terribly bad for Jungkook.

Walking into this tress at night made me feel uncomfortable, it was a clear reminder of my nightmares and I felt the fear growing inside of my chest the deeper I went through that darkness.

I could still hear the loud music and talking of people from here but as I carry on walking I heard loud hustles from the other side, I didn’t felt the need to rush there until I heard Jungkooks voice.

My feet moved on it’s on I was rushing through the bushes, fallowing his voice as I felt some bushes hit me all over until I stomp into the unexpected scene.

My breath got stuck in my throat but everything looked so clear that my whole body went cold.

Jungkook was pressed on the tree as someone held him by the neck, a painful expression reflected on his features as the men who held him there was glued to his neck.

It wasn’t until said men leaned back from him and I realized it was Jimin, exposing all the blood on his face it finally came to me what was happening. Jungkook fell to the ground hand over his neck, a painful groan leaving his lips .

All I could do was watch, feeling my body cold as ice completely frozen at the spot as jimins face covered in blood turned towards me. A gasp leaving my lips as his eyes burned over mine, red eyes like crimson blood.

I immediately turned to leave finally finding the will to move my frozen body but, all to my surprise he was right there in front of me with a bloody smirk on his lips.

No.

My vision began to blur into darkness, my own body completely giving up on standing and I felt weak in my senses.

No.

All I could see was his red eyes before I fall into the darkness of my mind.

I could feel my lungs burning as i breathed in and out the cold air, i was running between the trees again the darkness of my surroundings where swallowing me the deeper i ran into it.

Every cell in my body burned getting more restless as I desperately rushed through the woods, completely exhausted and out of breath my vision blurred and i felt my body give up on me falling miserably into the wet grass.

Turning around breathless a shadow presence like the dark night sky made his way slowly towards my body on the ground, i wanted to get up, run again my body wouldn’t listen to me.

I felt my body completely froze at the sight the closer he got to me, the moon light slowly illuminated more of his presence each step he took.

The more clear i saw him the more anxious i felt, just then as he stood completely above me i realized i knew who he was. I could no longer breathe as his red crimson eyes stared into mine with complete darkness, for the first time in years i see the face of my nightmares.

He falls to his knees in front of me, blood dripping from his mouth as a smile i never saw on him grows on his lips. I felt at loss at the sight of Jungkook, still not believing in it but there he was ready to take me as one of his victims.

I woke up in a rush cold sweat dripping from my forehead, my chest was hurting instantly feeling as if I had rubbed a marathon my body ache in pain and my head was foggy as if I was under water for a moment until I wasn’t and high pitched sound echoed through my head.

Once it faded away I was able to breath normally, looking around to see I was in my room. I couldn’t make out how i felt in that moment, everything still felt like a dream.

But that couldn’t be.

The memories of last night were a blur in my head, I couldn’t place my thoughts together weakly trying and the more i did the more my head hurt tears forming in my eyes i felt so helpless. Not being able to control my own my mind anymore no matter how much i tried to, all of a sudden everything became to much to understand then with the sound of rain hitting my window i could finally feel my mind emptying and i was back to myself, as if i was high on a dream I remembered one by one of last night events.

I was at the bonfire with Jungkook and his friends when he and Jimin went in the woods, how unease I felt at the knew informations about his relation with him in that moment deciding to fallow them in the woods only to be meet with the sight of Jungkook body falling on the ground with blood covering his neck as a Jimin stood there in a way I never could imagine.

The red eyes I could swear I’ve seen it before, the same one in my nightmares.

The same ones i dreamed were Jungkook, and the blood dancing on their lips.

All i could think was how much had i lost my mind to project such nightmare on Jungkook and Jimin, him out of every person i knew. The thought made me sick and i wish i could understand why that was happening to me, worried i might have actually gone insane.

By the moment I had collected my thoughts my head was spinning and I quickly got up, rushing to the bathroom to take my meds and throw some water on my face.

Everything that happened last night was a complete mess, what was supposed to be a fun night between friends was flipped insanely into another nightmare of mine.

All i could think now was Jungkook, what could have happen after i blank out last night. I stil couldn’t understand how i got back home, what could have happen to my friend and who did that to him.

My hands were shaking as I searched for my phone it was still so early in the morning, the sun has bearly appear although you couldn’t really tell as the dark gray skies covered Spring Villa in rain, after finding it I quickly called Jungkook to make sue he was okay but every time it went straight to voicemail.

Growing worried each time i spear no more time to leave my room running down the stairs without a single thou in my mind as I exit the house.

Not him.

I kept repeating that in my head.

I felt desperate, not even sure what I should do in that moment I just hoped in my bike and made my way to the only place i knew someone would be able to tell me what in the hell happened to Jungkook, his oldest friend mansion on the west of Spring Villa.

I have no idea where he could be right now and if someone knew what happened that night it has to be Hoseok and I hoped I could find them at their house, i didnt know who else to turn to right now and it only made my feel more helpless. My friend could be in danger and all i could do was find someone else to do something about it.

Tears were forming under my eyes the cold weather as usual was enough to make me shake under it, rushing through the empty streets a light rain began falling as if on quote Spring Villa was back to its grey days.

I passed a few police cars and an ambulance closer to were the bonfire happened last night, I couldn’t help the immediate stop watching as they closed half the road with yellow tape. Just then a the sky roared in anger, a light thunder shined above us as if to say something.

A few people who watched closely to were I had stopped were gossiping about what I thought would never happen again in this shitty town, but under all of their usual comments and half ass words of comfort to the people around there was one that felt like a punch in my stomach blurring anything else they were saying was the phrase;

“They found a body of a young man on the woods”

With a racing heart I rushed past them, repeating in my mind prayers - please not him.

After a long while I spotted the old mansion on the west hill, my legs were hurting from biking around so fast. My body cold from the rain, I couldn’t think about anything else besides him. The possibility that someone so close to me turned out to be the monster in my dreams.

It never one occurred to me to go their house before, it was never something I felt comfortable with and Jungkook never invited me over. I never questioned it I wasn’t the type to push someone about their lives, we build our friendship over our trust with each other . I knew who he was and he knew about me, we had that and it was enough.

But now after last night I felt desperate, he hasn’t returned my calls and even though it was so early I had to make sure he was fine. Especially when the serial killer was back.

I quickly made my way towards the entrance nocking on the heavy wooden door, I waited before moving once again impatiently I felt my self grow even more worried.

Before I could nock a third time the door was open revealing a tall men with red hair and amber eyes, I stood there staring into his eyes fist still mid air In front of me embarrassing.

“yes?” he blurted, voice deep almost like a growl as he looked me up and down no expression on his face.

It didn’t go unnoticed by me how he clearly was inspecting my presence there with judging eyes, then I realized he was still in his sleeping clothes feeling my embarrassment grow even more for waking him up so early with my sudden presence but i had a reason for coming here and despite everything else I held up the courage to speak up.

“is Jungkook here?” i questioned, trying my best not to let any of my insecurities shine through. Still feeling the awkwardness

“who’s asking?” he then asked, a bored look on his features. The awkwardness was stone cold.

I almost groaned out at his words, something bad must’ve happened to Jungkook and he was playing around as if everything was completely fine. My body was begging to grow hot with anger.

“I’m y/n, his friend…” i rushed the words, feeling more impatient at his calmness. “is he here? Is he okay?”

Before he could say anything the door opened fully and to my relief it was Hoseok, just like the men with red hair he too was still in his sleeping clothes confused as he walked to me.

“y/n? what are you doing here so early?” he mumble, voice deeper then usual and a bit hoarse.

“I’m sorry it’s just…. about last night when I saw Jungkook… he-“ I couldn’t even mutter the words without feeling a hole swallow me from my chest.

“hey it’s okay, Tae go back I’ll take care of her” he spoke to the red haired man, making his way closer to me holding my shoulders carefully.

The red haired men looked at me before giving Hoseok a nod turning on his heels to go back inside, the door was shut closed leaving me out alone with Hoseok who seemed a bit more worried this time.

“Hoseok what in the world happened last night?”

“I’ll tell you come here” he pulled me towards the side but i stood there growing anxious, I can’t wait any longer for an explanation. He looked into my eyes as if realizing exactly what i meant. “you blackout in the woods last night.”

“yeah I know that but Jungkook…” I interrupt, nothing about me was important to me.

“he took you home” he blurted

“he did? But…”

“listen y/n, we were having fun last night then you black out in the woods and Jungkook was searching for you everywhere” he carry on explaining, and I couldn’t believe it or i just didnt know what to believe in anymore. “when we found you he immediately brought you back home.”

“but I saw…”

“what?”

Was it all in my head then?

He had no reason to lie to me about such thing, still it didnt felt right what he was saying. I knew what I saw last ight, despite all the alcohol and my meds i knew i saw Jungkook being attacked by something or someone.

But if Jungkook was fine as Hoseok said then, all of this was just another illusion. What I saw last night wasn’t real. I was falling into that miserable trap in my head, I couldn’t help but feel completely lost as darkness fell upon my back.

I’ve been acting out of my mind this whole time without a care in the world, trespassing boundaries by coming here like a crazy woman asking for Jungkook to some of his friends when he was safe and sound.

“I’m so sorry Hoseok I just…. I heard about a body found in the woods” I tell him “he didn’t answer my calls so I was worried something happened to him.”

I decided to tell him what made me worried enough to come all the way here, leaving out the fact that i was mentally unstable and had a nightmare with his friend so real i thought he was dead.

He gave me an apologetic smile.

“is okay… you were just worried about him” he replied.

I watched as he looked at me with those eyes, the same ones everyone else did when they got a glimpse into my turbulent mind. I hated that more then anything and the fact he was now staring into my eyes with the same look mad me realize he might as well just be like everybody else, and I felt a crack in my heart.

“can you tell him to call me then, please I need to talk to him” I mumbled, looking down unable to meet his eyes.

“of course y/n…” he gave me a small hug “you should rest now is still pretty early in the morning, I’ll make sure he calls you as soon as I see him.”

“yes, im sorry Hoseok for showing up like this…” looking everywhere but his face, a need to run awa creeping into my mind.

“is okay, I understand where you’re coming from y/n” he answered softly.

I didnt spear another look at his direction as i turned on my heels to leave. That was my walk of shame back home and I didn’t know if i would ever be able to look into his face again without feeling completely embarrassed. I almost let it slip my worst nightmare, most people from Spring Villa already knew about my past and i didnt wanted to more people to find out about it. It burned almost, how much that part of me contributed to my own down fall but there was nothing i could do about it. I had tried everything I could and nothing ever seems to work. My mind has been playing games over me for so long, I should’ve known it was all in my head before packing and going to their home.

I was worried for what I saw and all of it wasn’t even real, just a coincidence.

I sighted looking at my own self in front of my small bathroom mirror, tired eyes and messy hair all over the place. I took a good look at my self feeling more pathetic the more i looked, i was tired. Physically and mentally.

It honestly took me so long to leave the bathroom, to get out of my head. This illusions ive been heaving ever since my brother left the world, this nightmares i thought were gone but now were back stronger then ever took everything i had.

I sat down in bed, the small container with meds in my hand. The rain continued to pour down outside, the darkness slowly rising more above in the skies just like my heart it was almost unbearable to tolerate all of this conscious, taking the meds in one gulp i waited for the effects to start and so on slowly my body began to drift into the deep sleep.

For once, let me sleep without a single dream in mind. No more nightmares.

But the pills stopped working a long time ago.

I walked a dark path of a long corridor, my stpes were muffled by a red carpet that fallowed the floors of the corridor.

I wasnt tired.

I wasnt running.

No one was coming to get me, my heart beat calmly on my chest and nothing happened.

I could see some lighter further ahead on the left and fallowed till im inside a big room, the enormous fireplace illuminated the room and from the fire i could make out two couches on each side and a small tea table between them.

My attention was focused on a painting above the fireplace which i could tell was the “The fall of rabel angels” from Pieter Bruegel the Elder.

The sudden deep chuckle behind me makes me turn around quickly, fear rising up my chest but i see nothing. Taking steps slowly closer to the fireplace until I feel myself collide with someone, turning on my heels im meet with amber eyes and a re haired men.

The fire burned brighter behind him and in an abrupt movement he takes me by the neck, turning my self aaround so my back is against his body he holding my chin forcing me to look into his amber eyes as i watch them slowly fade into red crimson.

“don’t worry, this wont hurt…”

Was all he mumbles into my face before showing his fangs, an almost demonic face staring into mine i could feel my whole body panicking colder then ever felt.

I could still hear his deep laugh as i lost consciousness, eyes feeling so heavy being forced to open as my body shakes in his arms. I was abruptly woken up cold sweat sliding down my neck making me feel even more uncomfortable, the loud noise of my phone ringing waking me up fully.

I took it not looking who’s the caller.

“hello?” my voice was still muffled and raspy, throat dry.

“y/n? Are you okay?” jungkooks rushed voice said on the other side.

I felt my whole body immediately wake up at the sound of his voice. He was okay.

I didnt know what to say in that moment it felt unreal but i was so relieved to finally hear his voice, everything seemed to fall back to its place in that moment.

“I’m fine, i was so worried about you….” i tell him honestly “I’m so sorry i even went to your house.”

He chuckled and i cold almost picture his teasingly smiling.

“i know that…. I’m flattered you care that much for me” he said.

“how could i not? You are my best friend.”

“I know. Sorry I made you worry that much, i wont do that again kitten.”

I looked at the clock on my nightstand as it marked half past nine, stomach rumbles in hunger. An entire day has gone already and invent had single bite of food.

“oh my was that an alien?” he said, a deep laughter coming from the other side of the line.

“you heard that?” I exclaimed embarrassed, cheeks hitting up.

“hard not to, have you not feed the family of aliens in your stomach?” he playfully says, I could definitely picture the grin he had on his face as he said that.

“i will right now…” i groaned.

“yes do that, ill see you tomorrow at the grill?”

“yeah… text me the time” i tell him.

“will do boss, bye.”

“bye, Jungkook.”

With that i hung up the call, feeling the smile grow on my face.

For as much as my nightmares and illusions bring the bitterness of me i could always count on Jungkook to change that, he was always able to filter out all of that darkness from my heart.

Hearing my stomach roar in hunger again i’d decide to finally commit to feeding it, feeling completely refreshed now knowing my best friend was fine and safe i made my way downstairs to get some food.

The sight i saw as I went downstairs was almost enough to make me regret it completely my decision and alsmot go back to my room, watching as my mother sat in the couch with one of her boyfriends drinking beer as they’re watched a football match smoke do cigarettes filling the small tv room.

I felt like throwing up but I wouldn’t let this be the end of my day, taking my purse i took the back door and decided to go have dinner at the one place i knew would be opened this late. The Grill.

The light rain hasn’t stopped since it started today, deep in my heart I knew the air in Srping Villa had changed again. A feeling I was hoping I would never felt again ever since this small town was turned upside down, but all was gone.

My thoughts were in pieces and for at least the end of this night I just wanted to forget everything and enjoy a meal.

That was my only concern the moment I sat down in on of the tables close to the bar at the Grill, French fries in front of me and a cup with coffee. The only thing they would serve at this late night but o was grateful for it.

I was quietly eating my fries listening to the low voices around me, there were only a few people at the Grill tonight. Certainly the accident that happened last night did shaken some sense into people’s minds for once, a reminder that this place was not only a tourist attraction but it had its stories.

I dared to look up once I was almost finished eating my food, inmost chocking upon the scene a few tables away from mine on the corner.

There was the red haired men I meet earlier at Jungkooks house and Jimin, they seemed to be in a fun chat with two girls sitting between the two of them.

I could see how Jimin would push aside the hair of the girl beside him, clearly expressing flirtatious acts towards her.

It would take a genius to understand what was happening there, knowing it isn’t made me feel any better too.

As they got up and walked to the exit I tired my best to hide my presence, not waning to make anything more difficult.

Watching as Jiminclosed one arm around the girls neck, as they left the Grill.

I still remember Hoseoks words at the bonfire last night, that couldn’t be my minds doing. I knew he told me Jimin and Jungkook had something going on together and that was what made me even more uneasy.

If they do then why would Jimin be going out with that girl?

Why would he do such thing to Jungkook?

I immediately scensored myself, it’s none of my business I shouldn’t be even thinking about such things.

But as his friend also, I should at least make sure I’m no just jumping to wrong conclusions. I could be just misunderstanding what was happening.

Not daring much to overthink it I got up making my way to the exit, I was afraid I might’ve lose them by now but they were still close by. Walking a few feet behind them making sure to keep a good distance I fallowed as they walked around the night streets, so far nothing had happened.

Once I saw them take another turned I stoped - this is wrong, I shouldn’t be fallowing them like this.

With a sight I turned back to leave but ended up crashing with someone else.

“I’m so sorry….”

I mumbled turning around before harshly being pulled back.

“Hey!” I stare angrily at the girl who pulled me back.

The girls says nothing at first, she had grin on her face as she looks at me up and down. She didn’t look like someone from around here and I sure never saw here in town before, the girl was taller then as she wore heels, a dress glued to her body and a jacket over it.

“Watch your tone little girl… you’re no match for me” the girl says, taking a step closer to me till she’s nearly a centimeter away.

The more I stared at her the more I stared to feel a dimly tingling sensation over my body, it was making me feel colder and uncomfortable. I could feel my brain screaming and gut in unison for me to run, that something didn’t felt right. But I was paralyzed in that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to speak or move.

“Well since your here… let’s make this the best of it, hum?” The girl pulled me by the wrist.

I try to pull away from her grip but I was suddenly struck by a painful feeling as she bite into my wrist, a loud groan comes out of my mouth as I feel her sharp teeth rip through my skin.

Her eyes where completely black as she stared at me, I try to fight her, to pull her back but it was impossible she was so much stronger.

In that moment all I could hear was my own heart pounding in my chest, my entire body was shivering and my legs were shaking. The pain burned through my entire arm.

It was so fast that I could nearly process the moment the girl was ripped off my arm, I fall to my knees breathing quickly as I look up to the red haired men I saw this morning holding her against the wall by the neck.

I looked the red hair in panic, but I couldn’t tell who he was anymore. A chill spreads down my spine as his eyes were no longer the amber color I knew but red just like blood, in a second he bit into the girls neck and I watched in horror as blood splattered across the air, the girl groan out in pain and I looked away as the sounds of flesh being ripped off continued. No, this can’t be real - i begged.

It’s just another illusion of my mind, I’m sure I’m heaving another dream.

I could feel my whole body shake with my have breathing, heart racing faster by the seconds I was completely losing myself into panic.

Holding tighter to my burning arm, blood wetting the surface of my shirt and everything around it. The smell of it was getting stronger, something I knew but wasn’t used to it.

It wasn’t until I felt a grip into my shoulder that was able to move again.

“no!” i exclaimed, fearing it was red hair now ready to end me aswell but i felt myself slowly calming as im meet with Jimins worried expression.

“it’s okay y/n….” he murmured. “it’s me y/n.”

He helped me get back up on my feet, hands holding my shoulders he looked into my eyes.

“i’m so sorry for this” he said.

My eyes looked behind him were the red hair men stood, blood dripping down his lips as he smirked.

I didn’t know what to say, my mind was blank in that moment I didn’t know what was real.

“oh no… you’re…”Jimin said between pauses looking down at my arm “hurt…”

He sounded much lower and I notice the change in his eyes the moment he looked at me bloody arm, how hos brown eyes faded into red crimson pointy fangs showing.

“what happened here?!”

I blinked a couple times before looking up at the worried face of my best friend.

“Jungkook?” I called breathless.

Upon Jungkooks voice I felt myself wake up fully, and with that came the realization of the situation.

I pushed Jimin away rushing towards Jungkook and almost falling over my own feet, feeling my body getting colder and vision blurring.

He quickly catches me and I let myself be immersed into his warmth.

Leaning away I searched for his eyes.

“what is happening kook?” I asked.

He sighted looking at the two men behind me.

“opsie…” even without looking I could tell that wa the red haired men, his mocking deep voice.

“I’ll explain everything y/n I just need to make sure you’re…” he stopped, looking down between us to my arm.

I stared in panic as his eyes faded into bloody red eyes.

They were all the same.

“you’re hurt…” he said.

I feared I had lost myself completely in my insanity but this felt too real to be another illusion form my mind, too painful to be unreal.

The same as I saw in all my nightmares.

“Jungkook…. What are you?”

…..

Notes: this is it for the first part of the story, taglist? Comment if you want to be tagged! I love you guys hope you like this one, until the next one! 🫶☺️

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borathae · 2 years ago

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“They’ve seen the centuries come and go, watched empires rise and fall and witnessed the creation of society as it is today. And now you have fallen into their arms, showing them once again that change never stops.”

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Hurt and Comfort, Vampire!AU, Magic!AU, Polyamory!AU

“You change universities after moving towns. Your new university is an old, ancient building with secret tunnels and whispered ghost stories. There are two fraternities, which for some reason always seem to be in a quarrel. Alpha consisting of Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin and Min Yoongi. Handsome, porcelain skinned men, who act as if they are out of another century and for some reason everyone on campus seems to be scared of. And Sanguis consisting of Jeon Jungkook, Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok. Men with skin just as pale and their faces just as beautiful, who always wear sunglasses when it is light outside and who never seem to open their curtains. And for some peculiar reason you always find yourself in the middle of them….”

Pairing: OT7 x f.Reader with main Taehyung x f.Reader & Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Mystery, Fantasy, Romance, Smut, University!AU, Vampire!AU

《 To Book One 》

“When your endless game of hide and seek with Namjoon sends your little group all over Europe, you have to fight more than just vengeful witches and bloodthirsty demons. Different morals, beliefs and mindsets bring just as much struggle to your bond as your enemies. And soon you have to accept that the world you decided to live in is darker than you initially prepared for.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader, Taehyung x f.Reader & Jungkook x f.Reader + more as the story progresses

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Vampire!AU, Magic!AU

《 To Book Two 》

“You and your lovers visit The Plains, a magical realm created for the souls of witches and warlocks and home of your dear grandmother. She welcomes you with raspberry pie and tea. You come with many stories to tell and eager hands to help on her cottage. Golden sunlight, blue moonshine and green forests await you alongside early morning snuggles and late night kisses with your lovers.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader, Jungkook x f.Reader, Taehyung x f.Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook, Taehyung x Jungkook, platonic Yoongi x Taehyung

Genre: Magic!AU, Vampire!AU, Polyamory!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance, Smut, this is a spin-off meant to be read after the Duology

《 To the Spin-Off 》

#01 - What You Deserve [YG x JK]

#02 - The Piano Teacher [YG x OC]

#03 - Only For You ([YG x OC]

#04 - Mellifluous [TH x OC]

#05 - Safe Hands [YG x OC]

#06 - Rache [TH x JK]

#07 - Captured [YG x OC]

#08 - Illecebra [TH x OC]

#09 - How I Love You [YG x OC]

#10 - Stormy Nights [YG x OC]

#11 - Of Simpler Times [TH x JM]

#12 - Best Seat [YG x OC]

#13 - Deep [JK]

#14 - Painted Blue [TH x OC]

#15 - Drunk on You [YG x OC]

#16 - I Want Your Love Forever [YG x OC]

#17 - Between Friends [YG x HS]

#18 - Bed Head [JK x OC]

#19 - Don’t Tease Please [JK x OC]

#20 - Fade into You [YG x OC]

#21 - Rope Bunny [YG x OC]

#22 - Lavender Warmth [YG x OC]

#23 - The Scholar, The Princess and the Master [YG x OC x JK]

#24 - Picnics [YG x OC x JK]

#25 - Where Love Is [YG x OC]

#26 - Wake Up Call [YG x OC]

#27 - Devotion [TH x OC]

#28 - Bewitched [YG x OC]

#29 - wanna see myself inside you [JK x OC]

#30 - Princess Treatment [YG x OC]

#31 - Guilty Tears [TH x OC]

#32 - Moonlight & Campsites [YG x OC]

#33 - ILY [YG x OC]

#34 - Morning Hours [JK x OC]

#35 - Silly Fights [YG x OC]

#36 - Carefree [YG & TH]

#37 - Cozy Times [YG x OC]

#38 - Drive You Fucking Crazy [TH x OC]

#39 - FWB [HS x OC]

#40 - A Good Life [YG x OC]

#41 - Impatient [JK x TH]

#42 - Love Wins All [TH x OC]

#43 - Cozy [YG x OC]

#44 - Listen In [HS x JK x TH]

#45 - moonlight [TH x OC]

#46 - Stardust [ TH x JK]

#47 - Protective [TH x JK]

#48 - Babybun [YG x OC x JK]

#49 - Just Relax [YG x HS]

#50 - Tenderness [JM & OC]

#51 - Creamer [YG x TH]

#52 - Shut You Up [JK x OC]

#53 - Double is Best [YG x OC x HS]

#54 - Fuck Yourself [JK x OC]

#55 - Used [TH x OC]

#56 - Grateful [YG x OC x JK]

#57 - Good Doll [TH x JK]

#58 - Prove It [YG x OC]

#59 - Cozy Nights [YG x OC x JK]

#60 - Rainy Mornings [YG x OC]

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tatumrileyslover · 13 days ago

Text

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔬𝔪

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: vampire!AU, victorian!AU, strangers to lovers, slow burn, forbidden love, eventual light smut, angst, gothic,

Warnings: blood, death, smut, manipulation, possessive behavior, mild violence, angst, hurt/ comfort, fluff, gaslighting.

Word count: 30k

Summary: In a grand countryside estate, where roses bloom with unnatural darkness, a mysterious stranger appears seeking shelter. Park Jimin, with his otherworldly beauty and cultured charm, quickly becomes an intimate companion to the Baron's daughter. But as girls in the village begin falling mysteriously ill and strange dreams plague her nights, she discovers his dark nature - and must choose between the warmth of mortal days or an eternal night in his arms.

a/n: ok so this isn't meant to be in two parts I just hit the tumblr limit so this is the second part.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢

Weeks had passed since that afternoon in the blue room. Autumn had deepened around the estate, the roses in the garden finally surrendering to the season's inevitable decay. Their relationship had shifted too - something unspoken now lingered between them, making each encounter feel charged with possibility.

Jimin still appeared only in late afternoon, his door remaining firmly locked until the sun began its westward descent. But when he did emerge, his attention to her grew more intense, more possessive. His cool touches lingered longer, his dark eyes following her every movement with an almost predatory focus.

It was around this time that (Y/n) first noticed the subtle changes in herself. Nothing dramatic - just a persistent lethargy that made her eyelids heavy during the day. She found herself drifting off during her morning reading, book sliding from loose fingers as she dozed in patches of wan sunlight.

"You seem tired, my dear," her father observed over breakfast, watching as she picked at her food with unusual disinterest. "Not sleeping well?"

The dreams, she thought but didn't say. Those strange, sweet dreams that left her feeling both drained and oddly euphoric come morning. But how could she explain the weight on her chest each night, the sensation of being watched, cherished, consumed? How to describe the familiar scent - Jimin's scent - that seemed to linger in her room long after she woke?

"Just dreams, Papa," she assured him instead, though 'dreams' wasn't quite the right word for these nightly visitations.

Only in Jimin's presence did she feel truly awake. Their evening conversations in the library or music room became the axis around which her days revolved. He had a way of making her forget her increasing tiredness, his voice acting like a tonic that revived her flagging spirits.

"You look lovely in this light," he would murmur as dusk gathered around them, his cool fingers brushing her cheek with familiar intimacy. If he noticed the slight pallor beneath her skin, the darkening shadows beneath her eyes, he never mentioned it. Instead, his touches grew more tender, more reverent, as if she were something precious becoming ever more rare.

The marks above her breast remained her secret - two small punctures that sometimes faded slightly only to appear darker the next morning. She found herself touching them absently throughout the day, remembering the exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain that accompanied their appearance in her dreams.

Their favorite spot had become the ancient oak by the pond, the same place where she'd read Bertha's letter what felt like a lifetime ago. Now, in the gathering November dusk, Jimin would lead her there with possessive tenderness, mindful of her slightly unsteady steps.

"You should wear warmer clothes," he chided softly one evening, though the chill that made her shiver had little to do with the weather. His arm around her waist was both support and embrace as they settled against the oak's massive roots. "The seasons are changing."

Indeed they were. The pond's surface had become a mirror for dying leaves, crimson and gold drifting like abandoned dreams on the dark water. Everything was changing, including her, though the transformation was so subtle she could almost pretend not to notice.

"Tell me more about your dreams," he would often murmur, pulling her closer against his cool form. The impropriety of such intimacy seemed less important with each passing day. Or perhaps she simply had less energy to maintain proper distance.

"They're becoming clearer," she admitted, watching the last light fade from the sky. "More... real. Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm truly awake or still dreaming."

His fingers traced idle patterns on her palm, each touch sending pleasant shivers up her arm. "Perhaps the divide between dreaming and waking is thinner than most believe. Perhaps some dreams are more true than our waking hours."

She found herself leaning more heavily against him, her energy waning as darkness fell. The lethargy that plagued her days seemed to lift slightly in his presence, yet paradoxically, she felt weaker around him too - as if he both strengthened and drained her.

"You're tired," he observed, his lips brushing her temple. The gesture was both comfort and claim.

"Not tired exactly." How to explain this strange state? This feeling of being somehow less substantial with each passing day, yet more alive than ever in these twilight moments with him? "It's more like... floating. Everything feels distant except..."

"Except?"

"Except you." The confession slipped out unbidden. "You feel more real than anything."

His smile against her skin held secrets. They sat in comfortable silence as true night descended, the stars emerging one by one like curious eyes. From the house came the distant sound of servants lighting lamps, preparing for dinner. Soon Madame Perrodon would come looking for her, clucking with disapproval at finding them alone in the dark.

But for now, there was just this - his cool embrace, the whisper of wind through nearly bare branches, and the strange, sweet lethargy that made everything feel like a beautiful dream she never wanted to wake from.

The dining room blazed with unusual brilliance that evening, extra candles lit to mark the rare occasion of Jimin joining them at table. Crystal glasses caught and fractured the light, sending tiny rainbows dancing across the white tablecloth. Even the servants seemed to move with extra ceremony, though (Y/n) noticed how they avoided meeting Jimin's eyes as they served.

He sat across from her, beautiful and otherworldly in the flickering light. Though he arranged each course with artistic precision on his plate, she rarely caught him actually lifting food to his lips. Yet somehow his plate would end up nearly empty, as if the food had vanished by some strange magic.

"I had another letter from Baron Rheinfeldt today," her father mentioned as the second course was cleared. "Most interesting actually - he's been conducting research into his daughter's case. Apparently there have been similar instances in other regions."

(Y/n) felt rather than saw Jimin's sudden stillness. When she glanced up, his face held only polite interest.

"How fascinating," he murmured, adjusting his untouched wine glass. "Though perhaps such dark topics aren't suitable for dinner conversation?"

"On the contrary," her father continued, oblivious to the subtle tension that had entered the air. "I find it rather compelling. Especially given our own village's troubles. You've heard about the milliner's daughters, I assume? And poor Emma, Marcel's granddaughter?"

"Most unfortunate," Jimin's voice held perfect sympathy. "Though young girls are often... susceptible to mysterious ailments."

Madame Perrodon clicked her tongue softly. "Three girls in one village, all with the same symptoms - it's most unusual. Dr. Werner is quite puzzled by it all."

"Which reminds me," her father turned his attention to (Y/n), who had been pushing a piece of pheasant around her plate. "You're looking rather pale yourself, my dear. Perhaps we should have the doctor-"

"Speaking of health and welfare," Madame Perrodon interjected diplomatically, "have you had any word from your mother, Mr. Park? It's been several weeks now..."

Something flickered across Jimin's perfect features - too quick to catch. "No," he said after a slight pause. "Though I confess I expected as much. Her business often demands... prolonged attention."

"Surely she must be concerned about you," Madame Perrodon interjected, her tone suggesting she found such maternal negligence difficult to comprehend.

"Perhaps it's time I took my leave," Jimin said smoothly, though his eyes fixed on (Y/n) as he spoke. "I've imposed upon your hospitality far too long."

The thought of his departure sent an unexpected pain through (Y/n)'s chest. She must have made some small sound, for his eyes softened almost imperceptibly when they met hers.

"Nonsense," her father replied firmly. "We couldn't possibly let you leave without proper word from your mother. What kind of hosts would that make us? Besides," he added with a warm smile, "you've brought such life to this old house. (Y/n) especially seems brightened by your company."

If he noticed how his daughter flushed at this observation, he gave no sign. Jimin, however, watched the color rise in her cheeks with obvious satisfaction.

"How kind you all are to a stranger," he murmured, though his gaze never left (Y/n)'s face.

"Hardly a stranger now," her father said, gesturing for dessert to be served. "Though I must admit, we know remarkably little about your family, your background..."

The remainder of dinner passed in a curious haze of candlelight and half-finished conversations. (Y/n) barely noticed when dessert was served - some elaborate concoction of cream and berries that Jimin praised but didn't touch. Her attention kept drifting to his hands, the elegant way they moved over silverware he never quite used, the way he seemed to conduct an elaborate performance of dining without actually consuming anything.

As the servants began clearing the last plates, Jimin rose with fluid grace. "Might I request an escort to my room?" he asked (Y/n) directly. "These old houses can be so confusing in the dark."

Before anyone could object to the impropriety, he added, "Madame Perrodon, you'll accompany us of course?"

The French woman nodded, though something in her expression suggested she'd rather not. As they left the dining room, (Y/n) could feel her father's eyes following them, his earlier warmth now tempered with paternal concern.

They ascended the grand staircase together, Madame Perrodon following at a careful distance, her candle casting their shadows long against the darkened walls. Though it was Jimin ostensibly being escorted to his room, their steps somehow led them to (Y/n)'s chambers instead. If Madame Perrodon disapproved of this deviation, she kept her silence, taking up her usual position in the doorway - close enough to observe, far enough to allow conversation.

The familiar space of (Y/n)'s room felt different with Jimin in it, as if his presence transformed the everyday into something more mysterious. He moved to the window seat where she so often sat watching for carriages, his figure silhouetted against the night sky. Moonlight silvered his profile, making him look more like a painting than a person.

"You never speak of yourself," (Y/n) said softly, settling into her chair. "Of your life before..."

"No," he agreed, his voice taking on a dreamy, distant quality. "Some memories are... difficult to revisit. But perhaps..." He turned to her, moonlight catching in his dark eyes. "Perhaps you should know something of me, after sharing so much of yourself."

He was quiet for a long moment, as if gathering scattered thoughts - or perhaps choosing which ones to share. "I attended a ball once," he began finally, his voice dropping to a near-whisper that made her lean forward to catch his words. "My first. I was young - so young - and everything seemed magical. The lights, the music, the way everyone moved like figures in a dream..."

His hand drifted to his chest, pressing against some remembered pain. "There was a young man there. Beautiful in a way that seemed almost unreal - tall, with features that might have been carved from marble, eyes that seemed to hold entire worlds. When he asked me to dance..." Jimin's voice faltered slightly. "Well, how could anyone refuse such a creature?"

"He was so graceful, so attentive. The entire night became a blur of him - his voice like honey, his touch cool against my skin as we danced. I was rather like you then," he added, glancing at (Y/n) with an unreadable expression. "Innocent. Protected. Until that night."

His fingers absently traced patterns on the window glass, leaving frost-like marks that faded almost immediately. "What I felt... it was a strange sort of love. Terrible and beautiful at once. The kind that consumes, that burns even as it cherishes." He smiled, but it held no warmth. "I retired to my room still drunk on his attention, on dancing and candlelight. And there, in what should have been my sanctuary, this love nearly took my life."

"I remember every detail of that night with perfect clarity," Jimin continued, his voice taking on an almost hypnotic quality. "The way moonlight spilled across my bedroom floor, not unlike how it does now. The lingering scent of roses from the ball. Even the sound of distant music still playing, though the hour was terribly late."

He moved from the window, drifting through the room like smoke. "My admirer had given me a rose, dark as wine. I'd placed it on my bedside table, watching its shadow on the wall as I prepared for bed. I was so young, so foolish - already half in love with his otherworldly beauty, the graceful way he moved, how his dark eyes seemed to contain mysteries I longed to unravel."

(Y/n) found herself holding her breath, caught in the spell of his words. Even Madame Perrodon seemed to lean forward slightly in her doorway vigil.

"I felt it first as a presence," Jimin went on, his hand again pressing against his chest. "That sensation of being watched, of being wanted with an intensity that was both thrilling and terrifying. Then came the weight, the paralysis..." His eyes met (Y/n)'s suddenly, filled with an emotion she couldn't quite name. "But you know something of that, don't you? These visitations in the night?"

Before she could respond, he continued, "The pain, when it came, was exquisite - like ice and fire combined, here." He touched a spot just above his heart. "A love that pierced deeper than any blade, that would have drained my very life had fate not intervened."

"What happened?" (Y/n) whispered, aware she was leaning forward in her chair, drawn by his tale.

"The dawn came," he said simply. "And with it, an end to that particular enchantment. Though not without leaving its mark." His fingers traced what must have been a scar beneath his clothes. "Some loves, dear, are meant to transform us. To remake us entirely."

The moonlight seemed to gather around him as he spoke, making his beauty almost painful to look at. "I saw him once more after that night. He stood beneath my window in the garden, beautiful as ever, but changed somehow. His smile held secrets I finally understood. He raised his hand to me - not in farewell, I think, but in promise."

Jimin's eyes fixed on (Y/n) with sudden intensity. "Strange, isn't it? How some experiences echo through time? How some souls are destined to meet, to repeat these ancient patterns?"

The air in the room felt thick, charged with meaning she couldn't quite grasp. Outside, clouds passed over the moon, throwing the room into momentary darkness. When light returned, Jimin had moved closer to her chair, his presence making her skin prickle with awareness.

"But listen to me," he said softly, his cool fingers brushing her cheek. "Filling your head with dark tales before bed. You'll have nightmares."

"I already have nightmares," she found herself saying. "Or perhaps they're not nightmares at all..."

A clock somewhere in the house struck ten, breaking the spell of Jimin's story. He straightened, something shifting in his manner - becoming more formal, more contained. "I've kept you too late," he said, though his eyes lingered on her face as if memorizing its features. "And filled your head with strange tales."

"Walk me to my door?" he asked, offering his arm with courtly grace. Madame Perrodon's soft sigh of resignation followed them into the corridor.

The walk to the blue room seemed both endless and too brief. Their footsteps echoed on the wooden floors, marking what felt like a procession of sorts. At his door, Jimin turned to her, taking her hand in his cool grip.

"Dream sweet dreams," he murmured, bringing her fingers to his lips in a gesture that made Madame Perrodon clear her throat pointedly. His eyes held (Y/n)'s even as he backed into his room, something hungry in his gaze that made her shiver. The click of his lock seemed unusually loud in the quiet hallway.

Back in her room, Madame Perrodon's familiar routines felt somehow altered, as if Jimin's story had changed even these simple acts of preparation for bed. The French woman's fingers were gentle but efficient as she helped (Y/n) out of her dinner dress, unlacing stays and unpinning her hair with practiced ease.

"The amulet too, mademoiselle?" Madame Perrodon asked, reaching for the leather cord around (Y/n)'s neck.

"Yes," (Y/n) touched the silver charm that had grown warm against her skin. "It... it catches on my nightgown sometimes."

She watched in her mirror as Madame Perrodon carefully placed the amulet on her bedside table, next to the candlestick. The silver seemed to catch the light oddly, almost appearing to pulse in the flickering flame.

"Shall I leave a candle?" Madame Perrodon asked, hovering by the door as always.

"No," (Y/n) replied, already settling into her bed, mind still full of Jimin's tale. "The moonlight is enough."

Indeed, moonlight poured through her windows, turning the room to silver and shadow. As Madame Perrodon's footsteps faded down the corridor, (Y/n) found herself watching the patterns it made on her ceiling, thinking of another moonlit room, another young person preparing for bed, unaware of what the night might bring...

Moonlight transformed her familiar room into something altogether different - shadows lengthening, ordinary objects taking on strange new forms. (Y/n) lay watching the silver patterns on her ceiling, Jimin's story echoing in her mind. His words about visitations in the night seemed to hang in the air like incense, making everything feel slightly unreal.

From her bedside table, the amulet caught the moonlight, its silver surface seeming to pulse with gentle warning. As she drifted in that space between waking and sleeping, a sudden draft - though no window was open - sent the charm tipping over the edge of the table. It fell with a muffled thud into the thick carpet, its protective presence now out of reach.

The room felt different after that, as if some invisible barrier had dissolved. The air grew thick, heavy with anticipation, and that sweet-strange scent that always surrounded Jimin began to fill her lungs. Somewhere in the house, a clock struck midnight, its chimes sounding distorted and far away.

Sleep, when it came, was thin and uneasy. She floated in and out of consciousness, each time unsure whether she was truly awake or still dreaming. The moonlight shifted across her walls like water, and shadows in the corners seemed to breathe with alien life.

Then came the weight - familiar yet terrible, different from her usual nighttime visitations. Something large and dark crouched at the foot of her bed, its form too fluid to properly grasp. Larger than a cat but smaller than a person, it seemed to shift and change in the uncertain light, its edges bleeding into the surrounding darkness.

The thing at the foot of her bed seemed to drink in the moonlight rather than reflect it. As (Y/n) watched, paralyzed by terror and that strange languor that always accompanied these nighttime visits, it began to move - not crawling exactly, but flowing across her counterpane like liquid shadow.

That sweet-strange scent grew stronger, making her head spin. The creature drew closer, its form continuing to shift and change. She could make out something like fur, black as pitch, and eyes that caught the moonlight in a way that made her heart stutter - eyes she knew, eyes she'd spent weeks watching across dinner tables and garden paths.

The paralysis that held her began to fade, replaced by a growing horror as the thing drew level with her chest. Its weight settled over her, both familiar and terribly wrong. She wanted to scream, to call out, but her voice seemed trapped in her throat.

Then came the pain - sharp and sudden, like two needles piercing the flesh above her breast. This wasn't the usual dreamy pleasure-pain of her nightly visitations. This was immediate, terrible, real. The pain seemed to spread like ice through her veins, and with it came a horrible clarity.

As she watched, the dark creature began to transform. The black fur seemed to melt away, revealing a form she knew too well - Jimin's beautiful face, terrible in its perfection, emerged from the darkness. His eyes, when they met hers, held both triumph and tenderness.

The scream that had been building finally tore free from her throat, shattering the night's silence. The figure jerked back, and for a moment she saw both forms at once - the beautiful young man and the dark beast, overlaid like double-exposed photographs.

Then it was moving toward her door - her locked door - seeming to flow through the solid wood like smoke through a keyhole. The pain in her breast throbbed with each beat of her racing heart, even as running footsteps echoed through the house.

"(Y/n)!" Her father's voice from down the hall. "(Y/n)!"

"Mademoiselle!" Madame Perrodon's cry joined the chorus of concern, accompanied by the sound of multiple servants rushing toward her room.

Her door burst open, lantern light flooding the space and chasing away the last of the shadows. Her father reached her first, face pale with worry as she clutched at her nightgown, tears streaming down her face.

"He was here," she gasped, trembling violently. "Jimin - he was here, but not himself, something was wrong, something terrible-"

"Impossible," Madame Perrodon interjected, pressing a cool hand to (Y/n)'s forehead. "You were dreaming, dear. A nightmare-"

"No!" The pain in her breast throbbed with terrible conviction. "He was here! Like some kind of... some kind of dark creature, and then it was him, I saw him! Please, you must check his room-"

Her father exchanged worried glances with Mrs. Klaus and Thomas, who hovered anxiously in the doorway. The amulet lay forgotten on the floor, its silver surface dull in the lantern light.

"Very well," her father said softly, as one might speak to a frightened child. "Thomas, Mrs. Klaus - come with me."

(Y/n) listened to their footsteps hurrying down the corridor, heard them reach the blue room. The sound of knocking echoed through the silent house.

"Mr. Park?" Her father's voice, trying to maintain propriety even in this strange hour. "Mr. Park, forgive the intrusion, but there's been a disturbance..."

More knocking, more urgent now. Silence answered.

"The door's locked, sir," came Thomas's voice.

A moment of hesitation, then her father's command: "Break it down."

The sound of splintering wood made (Y/n) jump, even with Madame Perrodon's arms around her. Then came a moment of terrible silence.

"Empty," her father's voice carried clearly through the house. "The bed hasn't been slept in... the windows are locked from inside..."

She could hear them moving through the room, checking closets, looking behind curtains. Their lantern light cast moving shadows in the hallway, like dancers performing some macabre ballet.

"Impossible," Mrs. Klaus's voice drifted down the corridor. "I saw him enter myself, not an hour ago..."

More searching, more confusion. (Y/n) sat trembling in her bed, the pain in her breast a constant reminder that this had been no mere nightmare. Madame Perrodon kept murmuring soothing nonsense, stroking her hair as if she were still a child.

"The gardens," (Y/n) insisted, her voice hoarse. Before anyone could protest, she was already moving toward the doors, something pulling her into the darkness beyond. Perhaps it was memory - how many evenings had she spent out there with Jimin, his cool presence both comfort and contradiction?

The November air wrapped around her like a shroud, her white nightgown offering no protection against its bite. Behind her, she could hear the others following - her father's worried stride, Madame Perrodon's anxious muttering, Thomas with his wavering lantern that made the shadows dance like living things.

The garden paths, so familiar in daylight, had transformed into twisted mazes under the moon's cold gaze. Everything looked different, as if the night had rewritten the landscape she'd known since childhood. The great oak by the pond stood like a sentinel, its bare branches clawing at the star-strewn sky. Even the pond itself seemed different - not reflecting the moon but swallowing its light, like an eye turned inward.

Their lantern light caught what remained of her mother's roses, those once-proud bushes now reduced to skeletal forms. (Y/n) found herself drawn to them, remembering how gradually they'd declined over the autumn - each day losing a little more color, a little more life, the change so subtle it was only noticeable in retrospect. Like her own transformation, perhaps.

She reached out to touch one bare stem, careful of its thorns. How many times had she watched Jimin do the same, his cool fingers tracing patterns among the dying blooms as if reading some secret message in their decay?

"Mademoiselle, please," Madame Perrodon pleaded, finally catching up and trying to wrap the shawl around (Y/n)'s shoulders. "This night air will be the death of you."

Death. The word hung in the frozen air like smoke. (Y/n) turned away from the roses, that strange ache in her chest deepening. The gardens held no answers tonight, only echoes of what had been and dark promises of what might come.

Above them, clouds scudded across the moon's face, making the shadows shift and change. For a moment, she thought she saw movement near the oak tree - a darker patch of darkness that seemed to flow rather than move. But when Thomas raised his lantern, nothing was there except the night itself.

"There's nothing for us out here," her father finally said, his voice carrying a weariness that seemed more than physical. "Let's return to the house."

The journey back felt like a retreat, their small party moving in silence through the gardens. (Y/n)'s bare feet had gone numb with cold, but she welcomed the sensation - it distracted from the deeper ache in her chest.

Inside, they checked the blue room once more, finding it still empty and cold, the bed undisturbed. Her father organized the servants into search parties to continue through the night, but Madame Perrodon insisted on taking (Y/n) back to her room.

"You're shaking like a leaf," the French woman muttered, tucking her charge back into bed. "Whatever happened - whatever you think happened - can be dealt with in the morning."

But sleep was impossible. (Y/n) lay listening to the sounds of the search continuing throughout the house - footsteps, whispered conversations, doors opening and closing. Eventually, even these sounds faded into the deep silence of late night.

She must have drifted off eventually, for the next thing she knew the morning came like a physical assault. Sunlight, usually gentle through her eastern windows, seemed to pierce Saffron's skull with needle-sharp rays. She turned away from it with a soft cry, the movement sending new waves of pain through her body. Every muscle ached as if she'd spent the night running rather than searching.

The house already hummed with unusual activity - servants' footsteps hurrying past her door, urgent whispers she couldn't quite make out. Everything felt slightly wrong, shifted just enough to make the familiar strange. Even the simple act of sitting up required enormous effort, her limbs heavy and uncooperative.

It was when she went to press her hand against her aching head that she saw them - spots of blood on her nightgown, vivid as rubies against the white fabric. With trembling fingers, she pulled the collar aside. There, just above her breast, were two marks like needle punctures, an angry red that seemed to pulse in time with her racing heart. The skin around them felt hot to touch, sensitive enough that even the light pressure of her fingertips made her gasp.

The room spun slowly around her as she stood, having to catch herself on the bedpost. Her reflection in the mirror showed a stranger - hair wild around her shoulders, skin pale and ash stricken except for two fever-bright spots high on her cheeks. She looked like one of the consumptive heroines in her Gothic novels, beautiful in their decay.

No one stopped her as she drifted into the hallway, though she was scandalously underdressed - no cape or wrapper over her nightgown, her hair completely down. Servants rushed past, their arms full of linens or medical supplies, too preoccupied to notice the impropriety of her appearance. The house itself seemed to sway around her, or perhaps that was just her unsteady steps.

As she passed her father's study, fragments of conversation drifted out through the half-open door.

"...the milliner's daughters both succumbed in the night. Same wasting illness..."

"Poor things had grown so weak these past weeks..."

"Doctor Werner is baffled... just like the others, fading away despite their youth..."

The words should have shocked her, should have drawn some reaction. Instead, they seemed to come from very far away, as meaningless as the buzz of summer insects. Her feet carried her forward, drawn by some force she couldn't name.

The corridor to the blue room felt endless, though she couldn't remember deciding to go there. Whispers followed her like shadows - servants discussing her father's plans to summon another doctor, Madame Perrodon's worried voice speaking of her deteriorating condition. None of it seemed to matter.

Jimin's room, when she finally reached it, was a shock to her system. Gone was his usual immaculate ordering of space. The bed looked as if a struggle had taken place there, sheets twisted and torn. Books lay scattered across the floor, their spines broken as if they'd been thrown. A chair lay overturned near the window, which stood open despite the cold - impossible, given how they'd found it locked the night before.

She moved through the chaos in a daze, bending to pick up a fallen book despite how the movement made her head spin. A flash of dark red caught her eye - a single rose, nearly black, lay crushed beside the bed. Something about it nagged at her memory, but thinking felt like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.

Then she smelled it - that sweet-strange scent that always surrounded him, somehow stronger here despite his absence. It seemed to wrap around her like an embrace, making her knees weak, her thoughts fuzzy. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision as she swayed, catching herself on the bedpost, before something caught her eye.

The armoire seemed to draw her forward like a lodestone, her feet moving without conscious thought. That sweet-strange scent grew stronger with each step, making her head swim. Her hand trembled as it reached for the brass handle, cool metal shocking against her fever-warm skin.

Time seemed to stretch and warp as she pulled the door open. There, folded impossibly into the space, was Jimin. He looked like a Renaissance painting of a sleeping angel - dark hair falling across his face, formal clothes still pristine despite the room's destruction. But something was wrong about how he fit into the space, as if his form didn't quite follow the normal rules of flesh and bone.

"Jimin?" The name escaped her lips like a prayer, or perhaps a plea.

His eyes opened instantly, showing no trace of sleep. In the shadows of the armoire, they seemed to hold an inner light - burgundy rather than brown. The sight sent fresh waves of memory crashing through her mind: those same eyes watching her from the foot of her bed, from the face of a creature made of shadow and hunger.

A sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob tore from her throat. She stumbled backward, her legs threatening to give way beneath her.

"(Y/n)," his voice wrapped around her like silk, and suddenly he was there, supporting her with those cool, strong hands. How had he moved so quickly?

"Shhh, my dear," Jimin murmured, gathering her closer. His cool touch seemed to ease the fever burning beneath her skin. "You're trembling like a caught bird."

Despite every instinct screaming at her to pull away, Saffron found herself melting into his embrace. His fingers traced soothing patterns up her spine, into her hair, each touch carrying that familiar mix of comfort and possession that made her head spin.

"The marks," she tried again, but her voice emerged weak, dreamy. "I saw you... there was a creature..."

"Let me see," he whispered, his cool fingers already moving to her collar before she could protest. The touch against her wounded flesh should have hurt, should have frightened her, but instead it brought an odd relief. His thumb traced gentle circles around the punctures, drawing out the heat and pain until she sagged against him.

"There now," his voice had taken on that hypnotic quality that made everything feel soft and distant. "Nothing but dreams and shadows. You've been ill, dear heart. Feverish. Imagining such terrible things..."

One hand continued to stroke her hair while the other pressed against the marks on her breast, as if he could heal them through touch alone. Or perhaps he was claiming them - the thought surfaced hazily before drowning in the sweet-strange scent that surrounded them both.

"I would never harm you," he murmured against her temple, though something in his tone suggested deeper meanings. "Everything I do, every touch, every moment... it's all for love of you."

"You're exhausted," he murmured against her hair, gathering her closer as her legs threatened to give way entirely. "Let me take care of you."

She should protest, should tell someone he'd been found, should question how he'd ended up in that armoire - but his cool touch against her fevered skin made thinking impossible. The world had taken on that dreamlike quality again, everything soft and hazy except for Jimin.

"I can walk," she whispered, but even as she said it, he was lifting her with impossible grace, cradling her against his chest as if she weighed nothing at all.

The journey back to her room felt like floating. His sweet-strange scent wrapped around her, making the pain in her breast fade to a distant throb. She found herself pressing closer, seeking more of that delicious coolness, her face tucked against his neck.

"My beautiful girl," he breathed, his lips brushing her temple. "So trusting, even now. Even after your nightmares tried to make you fear me."

Her bed appeared before her as if by magic - had they walked there? Had they floated? His hands were gentle as he laid her down, drawing covers up around her with tender care. When he made to move away, she caught his sleeve with weak fingers.

"Stay," she pleaded, though some part of her mind whispered that she should want him as far away as possible. "Please."

His smile in the morning light was beautiful and terrible. "Of course," he settled beside her on the bed, gathering her close again. His cool fingers returned to the marks on her breast, touch feather-light yet somehow claiming. "Sleep now. Let me watch over you."

The morning light seemed dimmer now, as if Jimin's presence somehow softened its harsh edges. His cool body curved around hers protectively, one hand resting over the marks on her breast while the other stroked her hair with hypnotic rhythm. Each touch seemed to draw the pain away, replacing it with a languid heaviness that made her eyelids droop.

"They searched everywhere," she murmured against his chest, fighting the seductive pull of sleep. "The whole house... every corner..."

"Did they?" His voice held that musical quality that always made her thoughts turn liquid. "How thorough they must have been. And yet..." His fingers traced idle patterns on her skin. "Sometimes the most obvious places are the easiest to overlook. Like how you might stare at a word so long it loses meaning."

She wanted to question this, to ask how they could have missed him in that armoire during their thorough search, but his sweet-strange scent surrounded her, making everything feel soft and distant.

"Sleep now," he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. "You're exhausted from your night of searching."

His coolness was a balm against her fevered skin, and despite every question still burning in her mind, she found herself drifting. The last thing she felt was his hand pressing gently over the marks, as if claiming them even in her sleep.

She woke to Madame Perrodon's worried face hovering over her, the French woman's hand gentle but insistent on her shoulder.

"Finally," Madame breathed. "I've been trying to wake you for nearly an hour, mademoiselle. Such deep sleep - most unusual for you."

(Y/n) blinked in confusion, the morning's events feeling like a distant dream. The space beside her was empty, though she could have sworn... But Jimin's cool presence was gone, leaving only the lingering trace of his sweet-strange scent on her pillow.

"Mr. Park explained everything," Madame Perrodon continued, helping her sit up. "About finding himself in that armoire - a sleepwalking habit from childhood, poor thing. He was quite mortified to have caused such disruption. Your father was most understanding."

The explanation felt wrong somehow, like a dress that almost fits but pulls at the seams. But (Y/n)'s mind was still clouded with what had been, surprisingly, the most restful sleep she'd had in weeks.

"We must dress quickly," Madame was saying, already pulling out a black dress. "The milliner's daughters..."

Reality crashed back with terrible force. Catherine and Marie - gone in a single night, taken by the same mysterious illness that had been slowly consuming the village's young women. The same weakness that seemed to be creeping through (Y/n)'s own veins.

The journey into town was a blur of grey skies and concerned glances. Her father insisted on the carriage despite the short distance, claiming the walk would tax her strength too much. She didn't argue - even the simple act of dressing had left her trembling.

Jimin sat beside her, his cool hand covering hers in a gesture that looked merely comforting to others but felt like possession. The familiar sweet-strange scent of him helped ease the carriage sickness that had lately begun plaguing her.

The milliner's shop was closed, black crepe draped across its windows. Inside, the sisters lay in their coffins like sleeping princesses from a dark fairy tale. Catherine's golden hair had been arranged to hide how thin she'd grown near the end. Marie's small hands clutched a prayer book, as if seeking comfort even in death.

"They were reading to each other, when they found them," someone whispered nearby. "As if they'd simply fallen asleep mid-story..."

(Y/n) felt tears sliding down her cheeks. She'd spoken with them just weeks ago, sharing whispered conversations after Sunday service. They'd been so alive then, so vibrant. How quickly everything could fade.

"Hush, dear," Jimin murmured, his arm steady around her waist as she swayed. His voice held perfect sympathy, though something in his eyes when he gazed at the coffins seemed almost... satisfied. But surely that was just her grief-addled mind playing tricks.

The days following the funeral seemed to blur together. (Y/n) spent most of her time drifting between sleep and waking, each day bringing new weakness. Even sitting up to read exhausted her now.

That morning, she overheard Marcel in the garden below her window, his voice carrying up to where she lay.

"Fading away, she is," he was saying, presumably to her father. "My Emma, bright as a spring morning, now pale as winter frost. Can barely lift her head from the pillow, poor lamb. Just like those milliner's girls before..." His voice cracked. "Begging your pardon, sir, but seeing the young miss looking so peaked too..."

The gardens had grown wild in Emma's absence. (Y/n) could see the untended paths from her window, remembering how she used to watch the girl working beside her grandfather. When had she stopped noticing Emma's absence? Everything before Jimin's arrival felt like a half-remembered dream.

Dr. Werner arrived that afternoon, his black bag and grave expression suggesting he'd been at least partially briefed by her father. Madame Perrodon helped (Y/n) into a sitting position, propping her with pillows that felt too heavy to bear.

"Baron," Dr. Werner said, packing away his instruments with methodical precision. "Might I speak with you for a moment?"

Her father moved from where he'd been hovering near the door, coming to stand by the doctor. Madame Perrodon remained a silent presence near (Y/n)'s bed.

"These symptoms," the doctor began in low tones that nevertheless carried to (Y/n)'s ears. "How long has she been experiencing them?"

"The weakness began gradually," her father replied, his voice tight with worry. "At first we thought it merely fatigue, but lately..."

"She sleeps poorly?"

"Yes, though she seems unable to recall her dreams clearly. And her appetite..."

"Has diminished significantly," the doctor finished, his expression grave. "And these spells of languor - they're worse during daylight hours?"

Her father nodded. "She seems to rally somewhat in the evenings, but by morning..."

Dr. Werner's face grew increasingly troubled as her father listed her symptoms. His hand moved unconsciously to touch his medical bag where he'd noted his findings about the marks.

"Baron," Dr. Werner said gravely, his voice dropping even lower. "I must be frank with you. These symptoms - they are identical to those displayed by the milliner's daughters before their deaths. The same strange marks, the same pattern of decline."

Her father's face paled. "Surely you don't suggest-"

"I suggest nothing yet," the doctor interrupted carefully. "But there are precautions that must be taken. She must be watched, particularly during the night hours. Has she mentioned any... unusual occurrences? Sensations of a presence in her room perhaps?"

Through her half-closed eyes, (Y/n) watched her father sink heavily into the chair beside her bed. "She had some disturbance, several nights ago. Claimed she saw something - or someone - in her room. We searched the house but found nothing amiss."

"Ah." The doctor's pencil scratched against his notebook again. "And she sleeps alone?"

"Madame Perrodon's room adjoins hers," her father gestured to the French woman, who stood like a statue near the window. "Though lately..."

"Lately?"

"The connecting door has been locked some nights. From (Y/n)'s side, though she claims no memory of doing so."

Dr. Werner's frown deepened. "Most concerning. And these marks - you've noticed them before?"

"Marks?" Her father leaned forward sharply. "What marks?"

The doctor gestured to his own chest, just above the heart. "Two small punctures, like needle pricks. They appear to fade and return. The milliner's daughters showed identical marks, in precisely the same location. As does young Emma, the gardener's granddaughter."

(Y/n) wanted to protest, to explain about her dreams, about Jimin's story of his own similar wounds - but exhaustion pulled at her like lead weights. Even keeping her eyes open had become an impossible task.

"What do you suggest?" Her father's voice seemed to come from very far away.

"She must not be left alone," the doctor's reply was firm. "Particularly after sunset. The door between her room and Madame Perrodon's must remain open. And..." he hesitated, "perhaps it would be wise to maintain a record of any visitors to the house, especially during the evening hours."

"Visitors?" Her father's tone sharpened. "You cannot possibly suggest-"

"I suggest nothing, Baron. Merely that in cases such as these, every detail must be noted. Every pattern observed. The similarities between these afflicted young women are too striking to ignore."

A week had passed since the doctor's visit, each day bleeding into the next in a haze of enforced bed rest and careful monitoring. Jimin's absence felt like a physical ache, though she couldn't be certain if he was truly gone or if the new precautions simply kept him from her side. Time had become fluid, marked only by Madame Perrodon's constant presence and the changing of guards outside her door.

This particular morning found her at her dressing table, barely recognizing the reflection before her. The girl in the mirror was a stranger - cheekbones sharp beneath almost translucent skin, eyes huge and fever-bright in their dark-circled hollows. Her hair, once thick and lustrous, fell limply as Madame Perrodon's gentle hands worked to arrange it.

"Perhaps a ribbon," the French woman murmured, more to herself than (Y/n). "To add some color..."

Every movement felt like swimming through honey. Even holding her head up as Madame Perrodon dressed her hair required immense effort. The black dress they'd chosen felt unusually formal for a morning at home, but thinking about why seemed beyond her current capabilities.

"There," Madame Perrodon said finally, helping her to stand. "Your father's waiting in the front hall."

The journey downstairs was painfully slow, each step carefully monitored. Strange, how the house seemed unusually still this morning, as if holding its breath. Through the front windows, watery autumn sunshine cast long shadows across the drive.

Her father waited by the door, his face grave as he offered his arm for support. She wanted to ask why they were standing here, why everything felt draped in such heavy silence, but even forming questions seemed too difficult.

The sound came first - the slow, measured tread of multiple feet on gravel. Then figures emerged from the morning mist. Marcel came into view, his aged shoulders straining beneath a wooden box she didn't immediately recognize. Three other men helped support the corners, but it was Marcel's bowed head that caught her attention. How strange to see him away from the garden, and in such formal black attire.

Behind them came a group of villagers, all in dark clothes. Emma's mother was there, supported by relatives. Why was she crying? And where was Emma? She hadn't seen the girl in the gardens lately...

The morning air felt suddenly thick, hard to breathe. Something about the careful way they moved, the measured steps, the box they carried - recognition hovered just at the edges of her mind, but her thoughts were too sluggish to grasp it.

"Papa?" she whispered, her voice small. "Why is Marcel..."

The words died in her throat as understanding finally, terribly dawned. Her legs gave way, but her father's arm kept her upright as her childhood friend's final journey passed before them

"Papa?" she whispered again, her voice catching as she watched Marcel's slow progress down the drive. "That's not... Emma isn't..."

The world seemed to tilt sideways, reality rearranging itself into something terrible she couldn't quite comprehend. Her eyes followed the simple wooden box - coffin, her mind finally supplied, that's a coffin - as if staring hard enough might change what it contained.

She'd just been thinking about Emma yesterday, hadn't she? Or was it last week? Time had become so strange lately. She remembered watching from her window as the girl helped her grandfather with the roses, her laugh carrying up through the air. When had that been? Before Jimin arrived? Everything before him felt like a half-remembered dream.

"She was ill, my dear," her father said softly, his arm tightening around her waist as she swayed. "Like the milliner's daughters. We thought it best not to distress you with the news, given your own condition."

The procession moved with terrible slowness past their position by the door. Marcel's face was set in lines she'd never seen before, aging him decades in what must have been mere weeks. How had she not noticed his absence from the gardens? The roses growing wild without Emma's careful attention?

Behind the coffin, Emma's mother's sobs seemed to echo in the still morning air. The sound struck something deep in (Y/n)'s chest, making her own breath catch painfully. She remembered summer afternoons, Emma sneaking her treats from the village, sharing whispered confidences about books and boys while Marcel pretended not to hear as he pruned nearby bushes.

"She can't be," (Y/n) found herself saying, though the evidence passed before her eyes. "She was fine. She was..." But had she been? When was the last time they'd actually spoken? Everything felt so hazy, like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.

The morning light seemed too harsh suddenly, making her head spin. Or perhaps that was the realization that while she'd been drifting in her twilight world with Jimin, Emma had been fading away entirely. Just like the milliner's daughters. Just like...

Her knees buckled completely this time. Dark spots danced at the edges of her vision as her father caught her weight. She was dimly aware of Madame Perrodon appearing at her other side, of worried murmurs and gentle hands trying to guide her back inside.

"No," she protested weakly, though even speaking took immense effort. "I have to... Marcel shouldn't have to..."

But what could she do? She could barely stand, barely think through the fog that seemed to fill her head. Everything felt distant except the terrible sight of Marcel carrying his granddaughter's coffin, his determined steps carrying her away forever.

Her father and Madame Perrodon guided her back into the house, away from the terrible sight of Marcel's bowed shoulders disappearing into the morning mist. The grand hall spun around her, familiar paintings blurring into dark smudges against the walls. Every step felt like wading through deep water, her legs threatening to give way entirely.

They settled her in her room, Madame Perrodon's cool hands gentle as she helped (Y/n) out of the black dress and into her nightgown. The simple act of changing exhausted her completely. She fell into a deep, heavy sleep before her head touched the pillow.

When she woke, the quality of light suggested late afternoon, and the house hummed with unusual activity. The scrape of furniture being moved echoed through corridors, rapid footsteps on wooden floors, voices calling back and forth with strange urgency. Her room was empty, Madame Perrodon's usual vigilant presence notably absent.

In her white nightgown and wrapper, hair falling loose around her shoulders, she drifted into the corridor like a ghost. The household's usual ordered rhythm had transformed into careful chaos. Maids hurried past with fresh linens, too focused on their tasks to notice her. From below came Mrs. Klaus's voice directing the transformation of the best guest rooms.

Even her father's study door stood open, papers scattered across his usually immaculate desk, suggesting hasty departure. Strange, how the household's chaos made her invisible - no one rushing past seemed to notice the master's daughter wandering the halls in her nightclothes, pale as a wraith in the lengthening shadows.

Her feet carried her up the grand staircase, each step requiring more effort than the last. The upper corridor seemed different somehow, transformed by the golden afternoon light and the unusual bustle below. As she passed the blue room - Jimin's room - something made her pause. Perhaps it was the quality of silence behind that door, so different from the chaos elsewhere. Or perhaps it was that sweet-strange scent that always surrounded him, seeping out from beneath the door like mist.

Before she could decide whether to knock, the door opened. Jimin stood there, beautiful as always in the dying light, though something about his expression seemed different - more intense, almost hungry.

"I wondered when you'd come," he said softly, stepping back in silent invitation. The room behind him was dim, heavy curtains drawn against the afternoon sun. "You look tired, dear."

She stepped into the familiar blue room, now cast in shadows from the drawn curtains. The space felt different somehow - not just from the dim light, but as if Jimin's awareness of impending departure had already begun to empty it of his presence. Yet his sweet-strange scent seemed stronger than ever, making her head swim in that now-familiar way.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," he murmured, closing the door behind her with a soft click. His cool hands found her shoulders, steadying her swaying form. "Not after this morning."

So he knew about Emma. Of course he did - how could anyone in the house not know? Yet he hadn't come to her, hadn't offered comfort. Something about that nagged at her tired mind, but his proximity made thinking difficult.

"The house is strange today," she said, letting him guide her to sit on the edge of his bed. "Everyone rushing about..."

"Change comes whether we wish it or not," he replied cryptically, settling beside her. His fingers found her hair, gently combing through the tangled strands. The gesture was achingly familiar, yet held something new - an urgency, a possessiveness that made her shiver. "Time grows short, dear."

"What do you mean?" But even as she asked, she found herself leaning into his cool touch, her body betraying her as it always did around him. The room seemed to spin slowly, though whether from weakness or his intoxicating presence, she couldn't tell.

"How pale you've grown," he observed, his other hand cupping her cheek. His thumb traced the dark circles beneath her eyes. "Like moonlight given form. Beautiful."

She should protest this - should question why he found her increasing illness beautiful - but his touch was so soothing against her fevered skin. When he drew her closer, she went willingly, letting her heavy head rest against his shoulder.

"What do you mean, time grows short?" she asked again, but his cool fingers were already trailing down her throat, making it hard to focus. The scent that always surrounded him seemed stronger in the dim room - roses on the edge of decay mingled with honey turned too thick, too sweet. It should have repulsed her, yet she found herself breathing deeper, wanting more.

"Say it again," he commanded softly, his mouth moving against her throat. "My name on your lips... I'll miss that most of all."

The words made no sense, yet she found herself obeying, his name falling from her lips like a prayer. His grip tightened in response, one hand tangling in her hair while the other slipped lower, tracing the curve of her spine through her thin nightgown. Each touch left trails of delicious cold that made her arch closer, seeking more of that sweet relief against her fever-hot skin.

The room had grown darker still, the blue walls deepening to midnight shades. In the mirrors, their reflection seemed to blur at the edges, as if they too were transforming into shadows. Or perhaps that was just her weakened vision, everything growing soft and strange as his scent overwhelmed her senses.

"I should have waited," he murmured, more to himself than her. His fingers found the marks below her breast, pressing gently until she gasped. "Should have been more patient. But you're so..." His other hand tightened in her hair, tilting her head back to expose more of her throat. "So perfectly made for this."

"For me."

She should question his words, should ask what he meant, but his cool lips were trailing down her neck, each kiss making thought more impossible. The impropriety of their position barely registered anymore - her in his lap, her nightgown slipping off one shoulder, his hands growing bolder as the room grew darker.

"Everything changes," he continued, his voice taking on that hypnotic quality that made her feel like she was drowning in honey. "But some things are eternal. Some hungers..." His teeth grazed her pulse point, sending shivers down her spine. "Some loves...

"Love?" she echoed dreamily, the word floating between them like smoke. His hands had grown more possessive, one splayed across her back while the other traced patterns on her collarbone that felt like ancient writing.

"A different kind of love," he breathed against her skin. "Deeper than mortal affection. The kind that consumes, that transforms..." His fingers found the marks again, making her gasp as pleasure-pain spiraled out from his touch. "The kind that lives in dreams and shadows."

The last rays of sunlight had vanished now, leaving them in a darkness broken only by faint moonlight filtering through the heavy curtains. His pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light, making him look less human than ever. Beautiful, terribly beautiful, like something from a Gothic novel come to life.

"I'm dizzy," she whispered, though whether from weakness or his intoxicating presence, she couldn't tell. The sweet decay scent of him filled her lungs, making everything feel distant and dream-like.

"Then let me hold you," he murmured, shifting them until she lay across his bed, her hair spilling across the blue silk counterpane. He moved over her like a shadow given form, his cool weight both comforting and overwhelming. "Let me memorize you like this, while there's still time."

His words should have worried her, should have made her question what he meant by 'still time', but his touch was growing more insistent, more intimate. Cool fingers slipped beneath the collar of her nightgown, tracing the line of her shoulder, while his other hand cradled her head with impossible tenderness.

"So warm," he breathed, pressing his face against her throat. "So alive. Even now, fading as you are, your heart beats so strongly..." His lips found her pulse point, lingering there as if counting each beat. "If only..."

His cool touch traced fire across her fevered skin, each caress somehow both soothing and igniting. The sweet-decay scent surrounding them made her head swim as his lips found her throat, her collarbone, lower still. Her nightgown had slipped from one shoulder, his mouth following the path of exposed skin with deliberate slowness.

"My sweet girl," he breathed against her flesh, one hand tangling in her hair while the other explored with increasing boldness. The contrast between his cold touch and her burning skin made her gasp, arch into his caress. "So responsive... so perfect..."

When her trembling fingers found his shirt buttons, he helped her, revealing that marble-perfect chest with its telling scars. Her hands explored the cool expanse of him as his own touch grew more intimate, slipping beneath her nightgown with possessive purpose.

"Let me show you," he murmured, his skilled fingers drawing sounds from her she'd never made before. "Let me make you mine... in every way..."

His cool fingers trailed down her throat, following the flutter of her pulse as it quickened beneath his touch. The thin fabric of her nightgown did nothing to shield her from the delicious chill of his hands as they explored lower, tracing the curve of her breast, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks until she gasped.

"So responsive," he murmured against her neck, his mouth leaving trails of frost-fire on her fever-hot skin. "Every touch makes your heart race..." His hand slipped lower, gathering the fabric of her nightgown until it bunched around her thighs. "Let me hear you, dear."

Her nightgown slipped from one shoulder, his lips immediately following the exposed skin with cool, open-mouthed kisses. His fingers found bare skin, trailing patterns up her inner thigh that made her whimper. The sweet-decay scent surrounding them grew stronger as his touch grew bolder, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that made her arch off the blue silk counterpane.

"Please," she gasped, though what she was begging for she couldn't say. Her hands found his shirt buttons, desperate to feel more of his cool skin against hers. He helped her, shrugging the fabric away to reveal that marble-perfect chest. The moonlight caught the twin scars above his heart - so like the marks he'd left on her own breast.

"Touch me," he encouraged as her fingers explored the cold expanse of his torso. His own fingers continued their intimate dance between her thighs, circling her most sensitive spot before dipping lower to gather her growing wetness. One long finger slipped inside her, making her cry out at the strange intrusion.

"That's it," he breathed, watching her face as he added another finger, stretching her gently. His thumb continued its circles above while his fingers moved in and out with devastating precision. "Let me hear how much you want this..."

Her hips rose to meet his touch of their own accord, seeking more of that exquisite pressure. His free hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to expose her throat to his hungry mouth.

His cool mouth traced patterns down her throat while his fingers maintained their rhythm, drawing increasingly desperate sounds from her lips. Each stroke inside her made her arch closer, seeking more of his delicious chill against her burning skin. The sweet scent that always surrounded him seemed to pulse with each wave of pleasure, making everything feel dreamlike yet achingly real.

"Perfect," he breathed against her collarbone, his thumb circling faster as his fingers curled inside her. "So warm, so alive..." His other hand slipped beneath her nightgown, palm flat against her stomach before sliding up to cup her breast. "Every inch of you was made for this."

She clutched at his shoulders, his bare skin perfect and cold beneath her burning palms. Her body tightened around his fingers as he worked her closer to some precipice she'd never known existed. When his cool mouth closed around her nipple through the thin fabric, she cried out, back bowing off the bed.

"Please," she gasped, though what exactly she was begging for remained unclear. Everything felt too much yet not enough - his touch, his weight above her, the way his fingers seemed to know exactly how to drive her mad.

Moonlight painted moving shadows across the blue walls as their forms entwined on the silk counterpane. His cool touch drew increasingly desperate responses from her fever-hot skin, each caress bringing them closer to that inevitable moment. The sweet-decay scent grew stronger, making everything feel dreamlike yet terribly real.

"My heart," he breathed against her throat, his movements growing more urgent. "Say you'll be mine forever..."

The mirrors seemed to hold only darkness now, as if the world beyond their embraced had ceased to exist. Somewhere far below, the household continued its frantic preparations, but those sounds couldn't penetrate their private realm of shadow and sensation.

Her pulse raced beneath his lips as he traced the path he'd marked so many times in dreams. This time would be different - no more nighttime visitations, no more playing at mortality. His teeth grazed her skin, drawing a gasp that was equal parts fear and desire.

His fingers curled inside her with devastating precision, drawing sounds she'd never imagined making. The room spun slowly around them, blue shadows deepening as his cool mouth traced patterns down her throat, across her collarbone, finding every sensitive spot that made her arch and gasp.

"Beautiful," he breathed against her skin, his thumb circling faster while his other hand pinned her wrists above her head. "The way you respond to every touch..." His mouth found her breast through the thin fabric, teeth grazing the sensitive peak until she cried out. "The way your heart races..."

The sweet-decay scent grew stronger as pleasure built inside her, making everything feel unreal yet achingly present. Her nightgown had slipped further, exposing more skin to his hungry mouth. Each kiss left trails of delicious frost that made her burn hotter, need him more.

"Please," she gasped, though what exactly she was begging for remained unclear. Her body tightened around his fingers as he drove her closer to some precipice she'd never known existed. "Jimin..."

"Say it again," he demanded softly, his movements growing more insistent. "Say my name while I make you mine completely."

His fingers kept their relentless rhythm as her pleasure built higher, each stroke bringing her closer to something tremendous, something that would change everything. The sweet-decaying smell overwhelmed her senses as his cool mouth found that spot on her neck that always made her shiver.

"Now," he breathed against her pulse point, his thumb circling faster while his other hand tightened in her hair. "Come for me, dear. Let me feel you..."

Her body tightened around his fingers as the first waves of pleasure crashed through her. In that moment of perfect vulnerability, his teeth broke skin - not the usual gentle pierce but something deeper, more permanent. The twin sensations of ecstasy and sharp pain merged into something transcendent, making her cry out his name into the darkness.

The pleasure seemed endless, each pull of his mouth drawing out her release as her blood filled his. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, torn between pushing him away and drawing him closer as everything she was flowed into him.

"Mine," he growled against her throat, his fingers still moving inside her, prolonging both pleasures until she thought she might shatter completely. "Forever mine..."

As the last tremors subsided, Jimin lifted his head from her throat, his tongue catching a final drop of blood. The moonlight caught his face as he brought his fingers to his mouth, cleaning them with deliberate slowness while holding her gaze. Something about the gesture should have shocked her, but she felt beyond such mortal concerns now.

He settled against her chest, his cool weight comforting rather than crushing. Her fingers found their way into his dark hair, stroking through the silk-soft strands as she admired how the moonlight painted his perfect features. His own fingers traced the fresh marks on her breast with possessive tenderness.

"Dawn comes too quickly," he murmured, more to himself than her. His touch lingered on the punctures, as if memorizing their placement. "They'll be here soon..."

"Don't leave," she whispered, her voice weak but urgent. The thought of separation felt like physical pain. "I can't... I think I love you."

He smiled up at her - that beautiful, terrible smile that had captured her from the first. "Love," he echoed, pressing a kiss to the marks he'd made. "Yes, I suppose that's what this is. A different kind of love..."

Rising with fluid grace, he began to put her back together - smoothing her nightgown, arranging her hair with careful fingers. The cool cloth he produced from somewhere felt heavenly against her heated skin as he cleaned away the evidence of their passion. Every touch felt like a goodbye.

When he tucked her into his bed, the blue silk cool against her skin, she could barely keep her eyes open. His kiss, when it came, tasted of copper and promises.

"Dream of me," he whispered against her lips.

Through heavy lids, she watched him move to the window. The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her was his silhouette against the moon, beautiful as a painting. Or perhaps that was just a dream.

Consciousness returned slowly, like swimming up through dark water. The first thing (Y/n) noticed was the rose on the pillow beside her - its petals so dark they appeared almost black in the pre-dawn light. Something about it nagged at her memory as she reached out with trembling fingers to touch the aged bloom.

"I attended a ball once..." Jimin's voice echoed in her memory, the story he'd told her in this very room suddenly taking on new meaning. "He'd given me a rose, dark as wine..." The petals crumbled at her touch, soft as ash.

Her hand flew to her throat, finding the fresh marks that throbbed with each heartbeat. Not dream marks this time - these felt different, permanent. The sweet-decay scent that always surrounded him lingered in the air, but she knew with terrible certainty that Jimin himself was gone.

She lay in his bed still, surrounded by blue silk and shadows. Her nightgown felt impossibly soft against her sensitized skin, though she couldn't remember him redressing her. Every movement brought fresh awareness of what they'd shared - intimate aches, cooling trails where his fingers had traced possession into her flesh. The marks on her breast throbbed in time with those on her throat, a matched set of claims she'd welcomed in the darkness.

Beyond the heavy curtains, dawn was breaking - she could feel it somehow, a pressure against her skin even through the thick fabric. The blue room felt different in this strange half-light, as if Jimin's departure had already begun erasing traces of his presence. Yet that sweet-strange scent remained, making her head swim with memories of his cool touch, his tender possession, the way he'd...

Urgent footsteps in the corridor interrupted her reverie. Multiple sets, she realized, moving with purpose toward the blue room's locked door. Her father's voice carried through the wood, tight with worry, but the other voice - deeper, rough with grief and rage - sent recognition shooting through her like lightning.

"The lock, damn you!" Baron Rheinfeldt commanded, and her heart clenched. Bertha's father. Of course she recognized that voice - how many summer afternoons had she spent in his gardens, playing with his daughter? Before Bertha had grown ill, before she'd... "Break it down if you must!"

The door shuddered under impact once, twice - then burst open with a crack of splintering wood. Rheinfeldt stood in the doorway, his face haggard with travel and purpose. The kind eyes that had once watched her and Bertha gathering flowers were now hard as granite, filled with a terrible knowledge. Her father appeared behind him, candle casting wild shadows across his worried features.

"Where is he?" Rheinfeldt demanded, scanning the room with desperate intensity. His gaze caught on the rumpled sheets, the black rose crumbling to ash on the pillow, the marks visible at her throat. Something like horror crossed his weathered features.

"Where is the monster?"

"Uncle Rheinfeldt?" The childhood name slipped out before she could stop it. She hadn't seen him since Bertha's last visit , his grief had carved new lines in his once-jovial face. "I don't understand..."

"No, child. You don't." His voice softened for a moment, remembering perhaps how she and Bertha had once called him that. But then his face hardened again as he strode to the window, yanking back curtains that had remained drawn for months. "But you will."

(Y/n) flinched from the morning light, unexpectedly painful against her sensitive eyes. Her father moved to her side, his hand cool against her fevered brow. "You're burning up, sweetheart. We need to-"

"A doctor cannot help her now," Rheinfeldt cut him off sharply. He turned from the window, and she saw he held a leather folio she hadn't noticed before. "Just as no doctor could help my Bertha. Our only hope lies in destroying the creature before..." He broke off, something like pity crossing his features as he looked at her throat.

"Baron, please," her father started, but Rheinfeldt was already shouting into the corridor, his voice seeming to shake the house's foundations.

"Prepare the wagon! Now! Horses, weapons - everything!" His commands echoed through the halls. "We hunt him before he gets too far. Before he claims another innocent like my Bertha!"

Servants rushed past the doorway, carrying strange bundles - wooden stakes, crosses, things that seemed pulled from old tales rather than reality. Their usual measured efficiency had taken on a frantic edge, as if they too sensed how little time remained.

"Papa?" (Y/n)’s voice sounded distant to her own ears. The morning light that had merely hurt her eyes moments ago now seemed to burn. "What's happening?"

Rheinfeldt strode to the bed, his movements sharp with urgency. "After Bertha..." His voice caught for a moment. "After I lost her, I began researching similar cases. Girls wasting away from mysterious illnesses, strange marks upon their breasts... The pattern stretched back centuries." He thrust the folio at her father, who went pale at whatever he saw inside.

"This is impossible," her father breathed, looking between whatever he held and (Y/n)'s increasingly unnatural pallor. "He can't be..."

"The same creature," Rheinfeldt confirmed grimly. "Taking different names, different forms even, but always the same pattern. Always young women in the same village, gradually weakening. Strange dreams, marks upon their breasts..." He broke off as Madame Perrodon appeared with traveling clothes. "Quickly now. The sun rises - we must reach the crypt before nightfall."

"Crypt?" The word felt ashen in (Y/n)'s mouth. She thought of Jimin's perfect face, his cool touches, the tender way he'd arranged her hair before... before... "I don't understand. Last night, he..."

"Last night he marked you as his next victim," Rheinfeldt's voice grew harsh again. "Just as he marked my Bertha. Just as he's marked countless others across centuries." He pulled something else from the folio - a yellowed sketch that made her breath catch. "This was drawn in Vienna, 1846. The name then was Minji..."

There on aged paper was Jimin's face - unchanged across decades, beautiful and terrible as a painting that never aged. But something about the features seemed softer, more feminine somehow. The longer she stared, the more the image seemed to shift between male and female, like a trick of candlelight.

"Baron Vordenburg arrives within the hour," Rheinfeldt continued, already moving to supervise the packing. "He knows the location of the crypt, the proper rituals..." He broke off, glancing at the lightening sky visible through the windows Jimin had kept so carefully curtained. "But we must hurry. Once night falls..."

The journey down the grand staircase was torture. Each step sent waves of strange sensation through (Y/n)'s body - not illness, though they all believed it so, but transformation. The sunlight streaming through the windows felt like knives against her skin, making her burrow deeper into the cloak her father had wrapped around her shoulders.

"She can barely stand," her father protested as they reached the entrance hall, his arm supporting most of her weight. "Surely we should wait-"

"Every moment we delay brings her closer to her fate," Rheinfeldt cut him off sharply. But (Y/n) caught the tremor in his voice, the way he couldn't quite meet her eyes. She wondered if he saw Bertha in her now - but no, Bertha had truly been ill, truly been a victim. What (Y/n) felt coursing through her veins was something else entirely.

The sweet-decay scent that still clung to her skin seemed to pulse with each slowing heartbeat. Her father's touch, once comforting, now felt scalding against her cooling flesh. Everything was changing, transforming, becoming something other than human. She thought of Jimin's words "Some loves transform us completely." Only now did she understand what he'd meant.

The wagon waited in the courtyard, already loaded with their grim cargo - crosses that made her eyes water, holy water that seemed to ripple without being touched, wooden stakes carved with symbols she couldn't bear to look at directly. Her father helped her into the back, where he'd created a nest of blankets to shield her from the sun's assault.

As they pulled away from the estate, (Y/n) pressed her face against the wagon's wooden side, finding a gap through which to watch her home recede into distance. The roses she'd tended were just visible, their petals drinking in the morning light. She remembered Jimin walking with her in the gardens, always in late afternoon, always in shadows. Had he been remembering his own mortal days, his own last moments in sunlight?

"The pattern was always the same," Rheinfeldt's voice carried from the front of the wagon. "Young women of good family, gradually weakening. Strange dreams, marks upon their breasts..."

But they were wrong about her, about all of it. She wasn't weakening - she was strengthening, changing, becoming something eternal. Each bump in the road made her more aware of how different her body felt. Her heartbeat had slowed to a rhythm as ancient as the earth itself. Colors seemed sharper, scents more intense, every sensation magnified to almost unbearable clarity.

The countryside rolled past in a blur of too-bright colors as (Y/n) drifted between memories of last night and awareness of what awaited them. She thought of Jimin's cool fingers in her hair, his tender touches, the way he'd looked at her in the blue room's shadows. Not a monster taking a victim, but a lover sharing his eternal gift.

"The crypt lies within consecrated ground," Rheinfeldt continued, shuffling through his papers. "An old monastery, long abandoned. They thought holy ground would contain him, but..."

(Y/n) pressed deeper into her blanket nest as the sun climbed higher. She could feel Jimin out there somewhere, moving through hidden paths toward the same destination. The marks on her throat and breast throbbed in time with her slowing pulse, calling her toward something vast and dark and eternal.

"All those girls," her father's voice cracked slightly. "Emma, Catherine, the others... How did we not see?"

But (Y/n)'s thoughts were only of Jimin - his perfect face in the blue room's mirrors, his cool weight above her, the exquisite moment when he'd made her his forever. Not victim and monster, but equals in transformation. How could she make them understand that what flowed through her veins now wasn't death, but a different kind of life?

The wagon rattled onward as morning stretched into afternoon. With each mile, (Y/n) felt herself slipping further from humanity. Sounds grew sharper - she could hear every creak of the wheels, every shift of the hunters' weapons. Scents became overwhelming - leather and wood, sweat and fear, and underneath it all, that sweet-decay perfume that meant Jimin was somewhere ahead, waiting.

The sun began its slow descent as dense forest closed in around them. Ancient trees blocked much of the painful light, their branches reaching across the road like grasping fingers. (Y/n) felt something pull at her blood, at the marks Jimin had left on her throat and breast. They were getting closer. Soon they would reach the crypt, and she would have to choose - the mortality they fought to preserve, or the dark eternity Jimin offered.

The thought of them destroying him made her chest ache with a pain that had nothing to do with transformation. They didn't understand what he was, what she was becoming. They saw only a monster who had to be stopped, not the beautiful, lonely creature who had finally found someone to share his endless night.

As the wagon wheels crunched onto different ground, (Y/n) dared to peek out from her blankets. Crumbling stone walls rose around them - the remains of the monastery Rheinfeldt had spoken of. Statues of saints, worn nearly featureless by time, watched their progress with blind eyes. Nature had begun reclaiming this sacred space - ivy crawled up weathered stone, tree roots burst through ancient paving stones, and moss carpeted what must once have been paths between buildings.

The wagon creaked to a stop in what had once been a courtyard. As her father helped her down, (Y/n) felt it - that pull in her blood growing stronger. Somewhere beneath these ruins, Jimin waited. And soon she would have to decide: the warm world of sunlight and mortality, or the eternal darkness of his love.

"Stay close," her father murmured, supporting her weight as the hunters began unloading their grim cargo. Crosses that made her eyes water, vials of water that seemed to ripple without being touched, wooden stakes carved with symbols she couldn't bear to look at directly.

But (Y/n)'s attention was elsewhere. Through her changed senses, she could feel Jimin's presence like a song in her blood. He was below them, in the crypt's endless darkness, waiting. Perhaps he already knew they had come. Perhaps he had always known how this would end.

"The entrance lies there," Rheinfeldt pointed toward a structure that seemed to grow out of the hillside itself. Unlike the monastery's slow decay above ground, this entrance appeared eerily well-preserved. Its heavy iron door gleamed as if recently tended, though that seemed impossible in such a forgotten place.

The hunters moved with practiced efficiency, checking weapons, conferring in low voices about approach and strategy. Her father had stepped away briefly to help Rheinfeldt with some ancient text, leaving her alone for the first time since they'd burst into the blue room.

(Y/n)'s eyes found a smaller path leading around the side of the ruined church. Overgrown with vines and shadow, it seemed to beckon her with promises of darker passages, hidden ways down to where Jimin waited. The pull in her blood grew stronger, urging her toward that secret route.

While the men were occupied with their preparations, she began to drift backward, one careful step at a time. The transformation had already changed her - her movements were silent now, graceful in a way that felt foreign yet natural. When she reached the shadow of a crumbling wall, no one had noticed her absence.

The hidden path led down through tangles of ancient roses, their blooms dark as wine. Their scent reminded her painfully of the black rose she'd found on Jimin's pillow that morning - had it only been that morning? It felt like lifetimes ago. Each step took her further from the hunters and closer to where she knew Jimin would be. The sweet-decay scent grew stronger, making her head swim with memories of the blue room, of his cool touches, of the moment he'd made her his forever.

A weathered door, half-hidden by ivy, opened at her touch. The passage beyond was dark, but her changed eyes pierced the shadows easily. Stone steps led down into earth that felt alive around her, the walls themselves seeming to pulse with centuries of dark magic.

Behind her, distantly, she heard her father's voice raised in alarm as they discovered her missing. But she was already descending, drawn forward by something stronger than family ties or mortal love. Each step took her closer to where she belonged - to cool arms that would hold her forever, to a darkness that felt more like home than sunlight ever had.

The passage twisted deeper, the air growing thick with that sweet-familiar scent that made her blood sing. Ancient carvings covered the walls - beautiful faces caught in eternal ecstasy or agony, it was impossible to tell which. The marks on her throat and breast throbbed stronger with each step, leading her toward their maker.

When the passage finally opened into a vast chamber, she knew she had found him. Mirrors hung between stone columns, their tarnished surfaces holding centuries of secrets. At the chamber's center stood what appeared to be an altar, but she knew it for what it truly was - his resting place, where he waited between hunting grounds, between loves that burned too bright and brief.

"I knew you would come alone."

Jimin's voice sent shivers down her spine - that same musical tone that had first enchanted her, though now it held edges of something darker, older. He emerged from the shadows as if he'd been formed from them, beautiful as ever in the chamber's eternal twilight.

"They're coming," she whispered, moving toward him as if drawn by invisible threads. "With stakes and crosses, holy water and ancient texts..."

"Let them come." His cool fingers found her face, traced the changes already visible in her features. "You're nearly complete, dear heart. The transformation almost finished." His other hand settled over the marks on her breast, making her gasp as sensation spiraled out from his touch. "Soon nothing they bring can harm you."

His touch felt different now - no longer the shocking contrast of cold against heat, but a perfect matching of temperature that made her realize how completely she had changed. When his arms drew her closer, it felt like coming home.

"I couldn't let them hurt you," she breathed against his chest, where those twin scars lay beneath his shirt - mirror images of the marks he'd left on her. "Not after... not when I understand now what this really is."

"And what is this?" he murmured into her hair, his fingers tracing patterns on her cooling skin. His voice held centuries of loneliness, of searching for someone who would understand, who would choose this darkness freely.

"Love," she answered simply, tilting her face up to his. "A different kind of love. The kind that transforms completely."

His hands cradled her face with impossible tenderness, thumbs tracing the new sharpness of her cheekbones. "How long I've waited," he breathed, his dark eyes holding centuries of loneliness. "How many lives I've lived, how many loves I've lost, searching for someone who would understand. Someone who would choose this freely."

The urgency of approaching footsteps faded away as he drew her closer. In that moment, there was only this - his cool skin perfect against hers, the sweet-decay scent surrounding them like a veil, the way the ancient mirrors caught and multiplied their reflection until it seemed a thousand versions of them stood locked in eternal embrace.

"I'm not afraid," Saffron whispered, her fingers finding the buttons of his shirt, tracing those twin scars above his heart. "Not of the darkness, not of forever. Not when it means being with you."

When his lips found hers, it was different from their kisses in the blue room. No more the thrilling contrast of cold and heat - now they matched perfectly, two pieces of the same eternal darkness. His mouth moved against hers with desperate tenderness, centuries of longing poured into a single kiss. She tasted forever on his tongue, tasted the sweetness of decay that had always surrounded him, understanding now that it was the flavor of transformation itself.

His hands tangled in her hair as the kiss deepened, grew more urgent. She could feel his hunger - not for blood now, but for connection, for someone who finally understood what it was to be both monster and lover, both predator and willing prey. When she gasped against his mouth, it wasn't from the cold of his touch but from the intensity of feeling completely, perfectly known.

"My heart," he breathed between kisses, his lips trailing fire-frost down her throat, lingering over the marks that bound them together. "My eternal love."

Above them, voices echoed down the proper passage. They had found her trail, would reach them soon. But in that moment, with Jimin's arms around her and eternity singing in her blood, Saffron found she couldn't fear what approached.

"They come to save you," Jimin murmured against her lips, though he made no move to release her from his embrace. "To return you to the sunlit world, to mortal days and human love." His fingers traced the marks on her throat with possessive tenderness. "As if you could ever go back now. As if you'd want to."

The voices grew closer, torch light beginning to flicker at the passage entrance. Saffron pressed herself closer to him, breathing in that sweet-decay scent that had become more precious than air. His cool hands slipped beneath her cloak, finding all the places he'd marked her as his own.

"There's still time," he whispered, though his grip tightened as if he couldn't bear to let her go. "Time to pretend this was all my doing, not your choice. They would believe it - that I enchanted you, corrupted you. You could return to your father's love, to gardens in daylight..."

"No," she caught his face between her hands, making him meet her gaze. In the ancient mirrors surrounding them, their reflection rippled like water - sometimes male and female, sometimes both, sometimes neither. All the faces he'd worn across centuries, all the loves he'd known and lost. "I choose this. I choose you."

His kiss turned desperate then, hungry with more than blood-need. She met his passion with her own, understanding now that this was what he'd been waiting for across centuries - not just a victim to feed upon, but someone to share his endless night. Someone who would want the darkness as much as he did.

"Saffron!" Her father's voice shattered their moment, echoing off ancient stone. "Dear God - get away from that monster!"

They broke apart slowly, reluctantly, though Jimin kept one arm around her waist. The hunters filed into the chamber, crosses raised, stakes ready. Her father's face transformed with horror as he saw how willingly she leaned into Jimin's embrace.

"Step away from him, child," Rheinfeldt commanded, his voice tight with barely contained fury. "Before it's too late."

"It was too late the moment I saw her," Jimin said softly, his cool fingers intertwining with hers. "Or perhaps the moment she saw me for what I truly was, and chose to love me anyway."

"She's enchanted," her father pleaded, taking a step forward. "Whatever hold you have on her-"

"No enchantment," Saffron interrupted, feeling Jimin's arm tighten protectively around her waist. "No thrall, no corruption. Every choice was mine." She touched the marks on her throat, watching her father flinch at the gesture. "From the first moment in the blue room, every surrender was willing."

The hunters spread out in a practiced formation, their crosses casting sacred light that made shadows dance across the ancient mirrors. But Saffron noticed something strange - the holy symbols that had burned her eyes in the wagon now seemed to hold no power. The transformation was complete, then. She was truly his.

"Like my Bertha," Rheinfeldt's voice cracked with rage and grief. "She grew weaker each day, speaking of strange dreams she could barely remember. A beautiful visitor in the night - we didn't understand until it was too late. Until she was gone."

"Yes," Jimin acknowledged softly. "She was sustenance, like the others before her. I won't deny my nature, or the lives I've taken." His arms tightened around Saffron. "But this... this is different. For the first time in centuries, I chose to reveal myself fully. To walk in twilight rather than just shadow."

"You're a creature who feeds on innocent girls," Rheinfeldt snarled. "Who drained my daughter in her sleep while she thought she was merely dreaming!"

"I am what I am," Jimin replied, no denial in his voice. "A predator, yes. A hunter of mortal life. But Saffron..." His cool fingers traced her face with a tenderness that belied his deadly nature. "She is the first I've wanted beside me in this eternal night. The first to know me fully, to choose this darkness freely."

"Choose?" Her father's voice broke on the word. "You've been planning this since she was a child! That first night visit years ago - you marked her then, didn't you? Chose her to be your victim?"

"I marked her as mine, yes," Jimin admitted. "But I returned to claim her as an equal, not just feed. For the first time in centuries, I wanted more than simple sustenance. I wanted..." His eyes met Saffron's with ancient longing. "I wanted someone to share this endless night."

"Spread out," Rheinfeldt commanded the hunters, his voice hard with purpose. "Remember your training. The crosses will weaken him, but only the stake will end this."

The hunters moved with practiced efficiency, forming a circle around the lovers. Their torches cast wild shadows across the ancient mirrors, making it seem as if dozens of copies of Jimin and Saffron were trapped within the tarnished glass.

The sweet-decay scent grew stronger as Jimin tensed behind her. She could feel something building in the air - a power older than the stones around them, something dark and hungry awakening. The shadows between the columns began to move in ways shadows shouldn't.

"Last chance, child," Rheinfeldt warned, raising his own stake. "Step aside."

But Saffron stayed where she was, arms spread to shield Jimin, though she felt him trying to pull her behind him. "I won't let you hurt him."

"Then you leave us no choice." Rheinfeldt's face hardened. "On my signal-"

The chamber suddenly plunged into darkness as every torch extinguished simultaneously. In the chaos that followed, Saffron felt Jimin's cool hands grasp her waist, spinning her away from the hunters' blind strikes. His lips found her ear in the perfect darkness.

"Trust me?" he whispered.

The absolute darkness held no secrets from her changed eyes. She could see everything with perfect clarity - the hunters stumbling with their useless torches, her father's desperate face as he called her name, Rheinfeldt trying to maintain formation despite the chaos.

"Always," she breathed back to Jimin, feeling his arms tighten around her.

The shadows themselves seemed to come alive, flowing like liquid darkness around them. Jimin's cool lips found hers in a desperate kiss as the chamber's ancient mirrors began to shatter one by one, their breaking a symphony of destruction that echoed off stone walls.

"No!" Her father's voice cracked with terror. "Saffron!"

But she was already moving with Jimin, his grace becoming hers as they danced between the hunters' blind strikes. Each broken mirror seemed to release more darkness into the chamber, until the very air felt thick with shadow. The sweet-decay scent that always surrounded him grew overwhelming, making everything feel dreamlike yet terribly real.

"The entrance!" Rheinfeldt shouted. "Don't let them reach-"

His words cut off as more mirrors shattered, their breaking glass a terrible music. Saffron felt Jimin guiding her toward something - not the passage she'd entered through, but another way, hidden behind centuries of shadow and secret.

"I won't let them take you from me," he whispered against her hair as they moved. "Not now. Not ever."

The passage twisted deeper, each step taking them further underground. But Saffron began to notice something changing in Jimin's movements - a growing heaviness, a reluctance in his perfect grace.

"The sun," he murmured, his voice tight with ancient compulsion. "Dawn approaches. I can feel it, even this far below."

She understood then - why he hadn't simply fled the monastery, why this hidden passage led down rather than out. Like in all the old tales, he was bound to his resting place during daylight hours. The transformation in her blood wasn't complete enough yet to save him from this curse.

"Here," he said finally, as the passage opened into a smaller chamber. Unlike the ceremonial tomb above, this space felt truly ancient. A stone sarcophagus lay at its center, its surface worn smooth by centuries. This wasn't for show or ceremony - this was where he truly slept between nights, between hunts, between loves.

"I cannot fight it," he whispered, his movements becoming more sluggish as dawn's power reached even here. "The sun calls me to sleep, as it has for centuries."

Behind them, the hunters' voices grew closer. They knew these passages too - some ancient knowledge passed down through generations of those who hunted his kind.

"The sun," Jimin whispered, his legs buckling as dawn's ancient power reached even these depths. "I can't..." For the first time, she saw real fear in those eternal eyes - not fear of death, but fear of leaving her.

"Then we face it together," Saffron said softly, supporting his weight. The stone sarcophagus waited before them, its surface worn smooth by centuries of use. When she pushed against the heavy lid, it moved as easily as the blue room's curtains had once done.

Jimin looked up at her with something like wonder, even as the dawn's power pulled at him. "You would choose this? An eternity of darkness, of daylight deaths, just to stay with me?"

"I chose you the moment I let you into my room," she whispered, helping him toward his resting place. The silk-lined interior seemed to welcome them both, as if it had been waiting for this moment across centuries. "Every step since then has led to this."

His cool fingers found her face, tracing its changed features with desperate tenderness. "So many years," he breathed, pulling her down with him into the sarcophagus's embrace. "So many loves lost to time. I never dared hope..." His voice caught as she settled against him, her head finding that perfect place over his heart. "Never dared dream someone would choose to share this curse freely."

"Not a curse," she murmured, feeling his arms tighten around her as dawn's power grew stronger. "A different kind of love. The kind that transforms completely." Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, seeking those twin scars above his heart - mirror images of the marks he'd left on her breast. "The kind that lasts forever."

"My heart," he breathed against her hair, his perfect features already taking on that death-like stillness. But his embrace remained strong, possessive, eternal. "My love... my everything..."

The sweet-decay scent that had always surrounded him enveloped them both now, roses on the edge of transformation. She felt her own body beginning to respond to dawn's approach, that same ancient sleep calling to her changed blood. It should have frightened her, this descent into temporary death, but in his arms it felt right. Perfect. Inevitable.

"Every dawn," Jimin murmured, his fingers threading through her hair even as the sun's distant power made his movements slower. "Every dawn for eternity, we'll sleep like this. No more solitary deaths, no more waking alone." His cool lips found her forehead, lingering there. "You've ended centuries of loneliness with a single choice."

Their bodies fit together perfectly in the silk-lined space, as if his resting place had been waiting for her all along. She could feel his heart slowing beneath her cheek, matching rhythm with her own as dawn approached. The sweet-decay scent surrounded them like a veil, making everything feel dreamlike yet achingly real.

"I love you," she whispered against his chest, where those ancient scars lay. "Beyond death, beyond daylight, beyond everything they think they know about monsters and victims." Her fingers traced patterns on his cooling skin. "I choose this. Choose you. For every dawn, every dusk, every eternal moment between."

His arms tightened around her with desperate possession. "My heart," he breathed, voice growing fainter as the sun's power pulled at them both. "My eternal love..." His perfect features were taking on that death-like stillness, but his eyes still held hers with centuries of longing finally fulfilled.

"Here!" Rheinfeldt's voice echoed distantly, torchlight spilling into their sanctuary. But Saffron could barely keep her eyes open now, the daylight's power drawing her down into that strange sleep alongside her love.

"Together," Jimin whispered, his last word before dawn claimed him completely. She felt his arms lock around her, ensuring that even in death-sleep, they wouldn't be separated.

The last thing she saw was her father's face, transformed by horror as he realized what she'd become, what she'd chosen. But she couldn't bring herself to regret, not with Jimin's eternal embrace holding her as they descended together into daylight's dark dreams.

The torchlight cast wild shadows as the hunters crowded into the chamber, their crosses and stakes at the ready. But they hesitated at the sight before them - not a monster and his victim, but two lovers entwined in death-like sleep, their faces bearing identical expressions of perfect peace.

"Dear God," her father whispered, the stake trembling in his grip. "Saffron..."

"She's chosen to join him in his curse," Rheinfeldt said grimly, though something like pity crossed his weathered features. "Look how she lies with him - not in thrall, but in love."

Their bodies were intertwined intimately in the silk-lined sarcophagus - Saffron's dark hair spilled across Jimin's chest, his arms locked around her in eternal protection, their faces close as if they'd been sharing secrets when dawn took them. Even in death-sleep, his grip on her remained possessive, ensuring nothing could separate them.

"We must end this," one of the hunters urged, raising his stake. "Before nightfall-"

"Wait," her father stepped forward, reaching a trembling hand toward his daughter's face. But he pulled back before touching her, seeing how perfectly she matched Jimin's ethereal stillness. "She's smiling. Even in this cursed sleep, she's smiling."

Indeed, both their faces held expressions of profound peace - no sign of the monster he'd been hunting, no trace of the innocent girl they'd come to save. Just two eternal lovers, finally united after centuries of searching.

Yes, let me move us toward the ending. Let's maintain the emotional weight while bringing it to its conclusion:

"She's my daughter," her father whispered, moving closer to the sarcophagus despite the hunters' warnings. "My little girl who loved roses and poetry. Who blushed at dinner parties and dreamed of romance." His hand hovered over her peaceful face. "And now look - she's found a love so consuming she'd choose eternal darkness for it."

"A cursed love," Rheinfeldt reminded him, but his voice held more sorrow than rage now. "No matter how beautiful it appears."

The hunters readied their stakes again, but with visible reluctance. The scene before them defied everything they'd been taught about the monsters they hunted. Jimin's eternal face showed only love as he held Saffron, his entire body curved around her protectively even in death-sleep. Her hand still rested over his heart, where those twin scars lay beneath his shirt - mirror images of the marks he'd left on her.

"The sun climbs higher," one hunter warned. "If we're to act, it must be now."

Her father straightened suddenly, something resolute crossing his features. "No."

"What?" Rheinfeldt stepped forward. "You can't mean to-"

"Look at them," her father gestured to the eternal lovers. "Really look. My daughter made her choice. For the first time in his centuries of existence, he revealed himself fully to someone. Offered transformation instead of just taking life." His voice caught. "Who are we to destroy a love strong enough to transform death itself?"

Silence fell in the ancient chamber as the hunters looked between themselves, stakes lowering one by one. Even Rheinfeldt seemed to deflate, years of vengeful purpose draining away as he watched how tenderly Jimin held Saffron in their shared sleep.

"Then we seal this place," Rheinfeldt finally said. "Let them have their eternal love, but contained where they can harm no others. It's... it's more mercy than I ever thought to show such a creature."

Her father stepped forward one last time, looking down at his daughter's peaceful face. He withdrew something from his coat - her mother's rosary, worn smooth by years of prayers. With trembling fingers, he placed it in the sarcophagus beside them.

"For whatever peace it might bring you, my daughter," he whispered. "In whatever eternal life you've chosen."

The hunters worked efficiently but quietly, as if hesitant to disturb the lovers' rest. Ancient stone groaned as they sealed the chamber's entrance, ensuring no mortal would stumble upon this sanctuary of eternal love. The last torch light caught Jimin and Saffron's still faces, casting them in a golden glow before darkness claimed the chamber completely.

As sunset approached, color began returning to their still forms. Jimin woke first, his eternal eyes opening to the perfect darkness of their sanctuary. His first conscious thought was surprise - he had expected stakes, not survival. His arms tightened instinctively around Saffron as she stirred against his chest.

"We're alive," she whispered, her transformed vision adjusting to the darkness that would now be their eternal home. Her fingers found something beside them - cool beads worn smooth by years of devotion. "My father's... my mother's rosary."

Jimin's cool fingers traced her face in the darkness. "They chose mercy," he said softly, wonder in his ancient voice. "In all my centuries, I've never known hunters to..."

"They saw our love for what it truly was," Saffron touched the rosary again, feeling the weight of her father's final blessing. "Not a curse or a corruption, but a choice. A transformation." She lifted her face to his in the perfect dark. "Our eternal choice."

The sealed chamber held no terror for them now - it was their sanctuary, their palace of shadows. Somewhere far above, her father and the hunters were sealing them away from the mortal world. But here in the darkness, Jimin's cool lips found hers with centuries of longing finally fulfilled.

"Every sunset," he whispered against her mouth. "Every sunset for eternity, we'll wake like this. Together."

The sweet-decay scent filled their sanctuary as they held each other in the perfect darkness, the rosary a reminder of both what they'd left behind and what they'd gained. Above them, they could hear the hunters at work - stone grinding against stone as they sealed the chamber.

"Listen," Jimin murmured, his fingers threading through her hair. "They build our eternal home." There was still wonder in his voice, as if he couldn't quite believe the mercy they'd been shown. "No more hunting in shadows, no more solitary dawns."

Saffron touched the rosary once more, imagining her father placing it beside them while they slept. Such a human gesture of love, a blessing for an inhuman existence. "He understood, in the end," she whispered. "They all did."

Her father's voice drifted down to them as the final stones were moved into place: "What do we tell the household?"

"The truth," they heard him say, his words carrying a father's grief and acceptance. "That love transformed her completely. That she chose an eternal night with him over all our mortal days."

The last echoes of movement faded above them as the hunters completed their work. The chamber settled into its perpetual darkness, but neither of them feared it now. This was their realm, their paradise of shadow.

Jimin drew her closer in the darkness, his cool lips finding the marks on her throat that had sealed their eternal bond. The chamber that should have been their tomb had become their sanctuary instead, blessed by her father's final gift and the hunters' unexpected mercy.

"Dance with me," he whispered, pulling her to her feet in their perfect darkness. "Let's celebrate our first sunset of forever."

As they moved together, their steps echoing off ancient stone, her father's final words seemed to linger in the air - that love had transformed her completely, that she had chosen eternal night over mortal days. The rosary lay on their silk-lined resting place, a bridge between the world they'd left and the eternity they'd chosen.

Some say that on certain nights, when the moon is full and roses bloom their darkest, beautiful music can be heard drifting up from beneath the monastery ruins. Perhaps it's just the wind in ancient stones, or perhaps it's two eternal lovers dancing in their sanctuary of shadows, celebrating a love that defied both death and daylight.

In gardens nearby, roses grow wild and untamed, their petals darker than any natural bloom. Their sweet-decay perfume serves as a reminder of two souls who chose to transform death itself with the power of their love - a predator who learned to love truly, and a girl who chose darkness freely, dancing together through their eternal night.

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yelhsaart · 4 months ago

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#bts vampire series 2/7 #kim seokjin #jin #bts fanart #bts #vampire

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deepdarkdelights · 2 years ago

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Perfection | Jin x Reader

Pairing: Vampire Jin x Reader

Word Count: 16k

Series: (6/7) Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Breaking and Entering, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Anger Issues, Dismemberment, MC had a fear of death, MC has agoraphobia, but MC is in therapy (good for her), Jin is kind of an asshole but we love it, kind of pet-playish(?), Jin is basically a sugar daddy tbh

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

A/N: I have been working on this fic since July and I am so happy that it is finally done and you guys will be able to read it! I really hope the time this took was worth it and that the fic was worth the hype lol. It’s almost one thirty in the morning and I have a quiz so I really should be sleeping. I think this is one of my favorite installments of the series! I hope you enjoy the fic and as always I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and my comments. Ily 💜💜💜

Kim Seokjin had not only a pretty face but a brilliant mind as well.

At least, that’s what he told everyone.

If there was a singular sin that he could fully encompass it would be vanity. And the sin that he shared with nearly everyone in his “family” was that of pride: a deadly and violent mix. That blend was what led to his damnation.

He knew that he deserved only the best and nothing less, that was exactly how he had been raised when he was still human. In the late 1800s, he had been granted the privilege of being born into high-class society as the eldest son, the heir to the Kim legacy. Everything he wanted was directly at his fingertips and at his disposal. From the moment he was born he was guaranteed power, and that was something he wished to never lose.

As the heir to a luxury wine company, it was only expected that alcohol, parties, and lewd behavior were set to follow him, and he exceeded those expectations. But he was good at keeping business and pleasure as two distinctly separate functions.

And with the life he lived, it was not often that individuals met his expectations. And by individuals, he meant potential wives. Naturally, it was expected of him to marry and continue the family's legacy. But the gold spoon that he was born with in his mouth tainted the pool. No one was good enough for him and that caused much strife within the family.

He was well past the age of marrying at twenty-eight years old. He was beginning to feel the pressure his father and mother were putting on his shoulders. And, not to mention, he was well aware that he was aging. Of course, he would never admit that his looks were fading. There was not a crease in his skin or a gray hair to be plucked, but he could feel it. He could see the minute imperfections that no one else could. It made his skin crawl in disgust.

And then Kim Namjoon entered the frame and everything began to come together.

His mother had insisted on organizing yet another party to find him a wife under the guise that he was there to make several important business deals. But when the vast majority of partygoers were young women with stars in their eyes he knew what was really going on. And of course, he was not going to stick around and socialize with subpar candidates. If he were going to do that it would be restricted to his bedroom, of course.

Namjoon had come to that party that night, Yoongi in tow despite his protests. Namjoon was a cultured man, he liked to mingle with the members of high society from time to time. It helped him learn what was appropriate for the decade as trends (in manners, clothing, and amusement) came and went rapidly. And those who belonged to the upper class were those who set those trends. It was strategic and it helped his kind blend in as seamlessly as possible.

And Jin was the epitome of a high-class man.

And so, Namjoon and Yoongi befriended him. It hadn’t been hard for them, they had been around for so long that they fit right in. And Jin had merely thought he found more of the few people that could meet his high expectations - his small inner circle growing with two new additions. But of course, that friendship had started out with the purpose of using Jin for what he had.

So in turn, he used them.

While Jin had a pretty face, he actually was quite smart and observant. He took note of his companions' odd behavior. He never saw them during the daytime, only in the veil of the night. They had the oddest colored eyes - not quite black but a deep shade of burgundy like the embers of a smoldering fire laid within their depths. And they were cold, absolutely frigid to the touch like a corpse. It didn’t take him very long to piece together what they were, and it was only proven true when he caught the both of them feasting on lifeless corpses in his guest room. He timed everything just perfectly to discover their true nature.

Yoongi had seemed genuinely surprised, bloody lips parted in shock as he stood as still as a statue, the limp body still collapsed in his iron grasp.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was smiling. He too was not able to conceal his nature any longer but he wasn’t trying either. He took his time and continued to finish his meal despite the obvious living human presence in the room.

“You two have been holding out on me,” Jin said with a disappointed tone.

“Holding out?” Namjoon echoed before relaxing his arms and allowing the corpse to slip down to the floor, the thinnest drizzle of blood pooling onto the parquet flooring.

Yoongi could only stare at the both of them, his eyes darting back and forth between the two other men.

“Yes, holding out! You are immortal are you not?”

“Yes, we are, and I’m sure you’ve figured out the rest by now haven’t you?”

“You may have been able to fool all of those other halfwits but it was painfully obvious to me, of course.”

“Of course.” Namjoon nodded while trying to suppress an amused grin.

“I want in, I wish to join you and your kind.”

“No,” Yoongi immediately cut in, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, this is a curse it is not something to take lightly and flirt with the notion of.”

His tone was harsh, his face stern but there was evident pain behind his eyes. Yoongi had been forced into this life if that was what you could even call it. He couldn’t fathom someone willingly agreeing to eternal damnation and he would try his hardest to convince them otherwise.

“Are you denying me?” Jin asked, his face contorted in utter disbelief. He was never denied anything in his twenty-eight years of life and the feeling of rejection was infuriating.

“Yoongi, it’s his decision,” Namjoon interjected, his hand wiping the blood from his mouth leaving a streaky crimson trail behind.

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Yoongi hissed.

“What is there to consider? He’s already seen us and he knows what he wants.”

“He has no idea what he wants!”

“And why are you speaking for me? Just because you’re miserable and dissatisfied does not mean the same will be said for me!” Jin spat. “I grow tired of this human body. Every second of every day I feel myself wasting away and there is not a thing I can do about it.”

“You would throw away your humanity, your life, all in the name of vanity?” Yoongi asked in disbelief.

“And for greed as well,” Jin laughed, “Believe me, I am many things and one of them is self-aware. I am a selfish bastard and I am perfectly fine with that. I won’t allow my looks to fade and my fortune will grow as centuries pass. This is what I desire and I refuse to concede.”

He was a businessman in every aspect.

“It sounds like he’s made his choice, Yoongi.” Namjoon finally spoke.

“It sounds like he’s made an ignorant choice and I refuse to have any part in this,” Yoongi said, storming past the two of them and slamming the door shut with enough force that the mahogany wood cracked by the handle.

“So, are we going to fuck about or will you give me what I want?” Jin asked, his impatience growing.

“I consider you a good friend, Jin. I won't lie, I am pleased that you are asking this of me.” Namjoon smiled before grabbing Jin’s shoulder, “We’re all lonely children looking for a place where we belong.”

Lonely children, that was one way to put it. Namjoon was not entirely wrong. In a world where you deserved only the best, many fell short and in the end, you were painfully alone, whether you were willing to admit it or not.

“Before we go through with this, there are some things you should know.”

“What things?”

“You can’t go in the sun, not just yet, you’ll be far too young and far too sensitive to light. Quiet, dark, scentless places are going to be the best place to stay - your senses are going to be heightened tenfold. You must feed often in the early years, you’re going to be very hungry, bloodthirsty really so you need to stay away from large crowds of people.”

Jin was silent for a moment, his eyes shifting from left to right and back again as he processed everything he was told. He could manage, and he could figure out how to do all of those things while maintaining his position as an heir.

“Lastly, do not try and do this alone. In our world, there is strength in numbers as well as safety. You’ll have to stay with me and Yoongi, we will all be bound to one another as creator and creation.”

“So when you two leave…”

“You will follow.” Namjoon nodded, “We try to stay in one place for as long as we can so if it’s your family you’re worried about you’ll have plenty of time to figure something out.”

But they weren’t coming with him. As terrible as it was, that wasn’t a great enough reason to sway his decision. He still wanted what he desired and he was willing to let his family go. So he stuck out his hand, ready to shake on the agreement.

“I accept the conditions.”

~~~~~~~

Most people were afraid of spiders, some of heights, and many feared drowning. But you feared something a bit more abstract and with a bit more finality. You were afraid of aging and by association, you were incredibly afraid of death.

And that fear often leads you to do a few things. One of them was to start skincare at an absurdly young age. The other was to hermit yourself inside of your house out of fear of some horrific accident befalling you. And the other was to seek out strange and obscure places to visit before you die. It was odd that the last two coincide but they do.

There were days when you were so frightened that you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the comfort of your bed. And then you had days where you felt daring, if you were going to die one day would you really want to have lived your only life trapped inside of your own house? There were your good days and your bad days and they came and went like the tides.

Today was a “good” day. And by good day that meant you were on your laptop scrolling through forums trying to find a new place to visit. Living in a small town was hard, you knew everyone and every place because they were so few in number. But sometimes there were locations in between towns, or hidden spots in your own. Briar Hills is an old town, a historical town even. It’s not uncommon for places to be abandoned, concrete skeletons collapsing and being devoured by the flora.

It was finding them, buried in hundreds of posts, that was difficult. The teenagers in the town had taken to reclaiming those places, turning them into party spots in the blink of an eye. But that has changed in the past few months. Ever since the first body turned up.

That was the thing about small towns, murder was much rarer than the action that cities see. So, when dozens of corpses begin to show up in streams and lakes and people begin to go missing without a trace - panic ensues. As well as a town-wide curfew.

Briar Hills turned into a ghost town after dark. The streets would be empty, lit by a few lampposts spread down the street that was easily consumed by a thick, hazy fog. Every now and then the fog would be broken by police lights, red and blue shocks of color dispersing the mist as the night patrol came around the block. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

And, if it weren’t a good day, the sight alone would be enough to keep you corralled in your room. But it was a good day and you had become stir-crazy from staying in your house for the past few weeks.

After endless scrolling there was one post in particular that caught your attention. It looked like an extravagant invitation with a satin black background and deep red embellishments. It had very little interaction and it was written in a completely different language. For something as obscure as an abandoned place in a small town you weren’t surprised that it had gone unnoticed, especially considering few people checked this forum.

Putting the text into google translate had not been insanely helpful. The translated text was jumbled and made little sense, it was one of those languages that did not thrive when it came to longer translations. But you were interested and fairly stubborn and after extended research and decoding fragmented sentences you were left with this:

“The best bite I’ve ever had,” And following that was a set of coordinates that had been written out instead of just using their numerical counterparts.

You were interested.

What could that mean? Maybe it was some hole-in-the-wall restaurant, but why all the decorum? Why the translations? Who even uses coordinates anymore? The best way to get the answers you desired was to discover them for yourself.

That’s how you ended up sneaking out of your house, dressed head to toe in dark colors, like some teenager that’s about to disappoint their parents. Except, in this case, your parents were the cops, and being grounded would equate to being detained for violating the town-wide curfew. All the more reason to not get caught.

You started to get cold feet when you realized where the set of coordinates was leading you, your body came to a fast stop when the toes of your boots met the edge of the forest. The forest, at night, with low visibility, and predators prowling was a bad move. That just screamed a sudden and violent death, not to mention the bulk of missing persons' corpses had been found within its depths. This was a stupid idea, a bad move, but it was a good day and you were too stubborn to follow reason. You would make up for it tomorrow by hiding in your bed all day. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a coping mechanism nonetheless.

You took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and took a step forward. There was no going back now, you had made up your mind.

The further into the forest you trekked the quieter it became. It didn’t make sense. You were getting further from society so why was it so quiet? The wind was still, not a branch or leaf trembled, and not even a cricket dared to chirp. It was like every living creature had up and left, abandoning their home. The only sound that filled the static silence was the bubbling rush of water from the river.

You began to walk faster, your nerves urging you to get where you were going and be done with it. On top of that, your eyes were starting to play tricks on you, your brain attempting to make sense of the dark and fill in what was missing resulting in ominous shadows shifting through the trees. You were regretting your decision immensely, so you picked up the pace and began humming to yourself to fill the silence.

If you were being honest, you really had no idea what you were supposed to be looking for. The post hadn’t listed much of anything and you weren’t sure what would be at the end of the coordinates. But, the red light glowing in the distance was a sure sign of something. It grew more intense as you neared it, the light getting stronger the closer to the ground it was. When you finally pushed through the underbrush you were met with a set of concrete stairs leading down into the ground and at the very bottom was an old metal door with a faintly pulsing red light above it. Looking down at your phone you were able to verify that you had made it to where the coordinates were marked.

It was a bomb shelter. It was most likely one for the community back in the forties, an evacuation and safe point for those who didn’t have their own. It must have been abandoned and forgotten about after the war, left to rot there for the past eighty years. But if that light was anything to go by, it must have been reclaimed by someone.

You carefully stepped down the stairs, applying a little weight at a time to make sure that the concrete hadn’t eroded and wouldn’t crumble beneath you. When you reached the bottom you tried the door and to your surprise, it opened with a creak. There was a long tunnel just barely lit by candles lining the walls leaving deep shadows in between them. And now you could feel the walls thumping, steadily vibrating with a muffled bass. That meant there was another chamber somewhere.

You hesitantly traveled down the tunnel, long stretches of the floor would eventually give way to more stairs leading you deeper and deeper underground. This was a claustrophobe's worst nightmare. The more you walked the harder the walls vibrated until you finally came upon another door where the sounds became the loudest. Above the door hung a purple neon sign that read: “Blood Sugar.”

Upon testing the door handle, you were surprised to find that it was unlocked, and once it slowly swung open your nose was assaulted with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and a coppery odor. You swiftly entered and closed the door behind you, trying your best not to bring too much attention to yourself. But it appears you would have no trouble doing so.

The room you had stepped into was massive, the walls were tall and rounded out at the ceiling and were made completely out of metal. But it was far from a barren, abandoned bunker. The room was packed with people, some dancing, some drinking, and others wrapped around one another on the various red velvet chaises spread around the space. The music was loud and the room was lit by antique chandeliers as well as deep purple lighting casting an ominous glow over everyone.

The bunker had been converted into a club of some sort and despite the decrepit tunnels you had slunk through to get here, it was surprisingly luxurious. You were honestly surprised the entire town hadn’t known about this place. That much was certainly true because, despite the large crowd, you could only recognize about five people you had seen before. The massive gathering was largely that of people that were not from Briar Hills.

A set of delicate hands slithered around your waist, tugging you sharply towards the stranger behind you. A shout of surprise parted your lips as you turned around, slapping the offending limbs off of you.

There was a tall woman facing you with a grin on her face, her bright white teeth glinting from behind her deep red lips. Her skin was so pale it was glowing with a purple hue from the lights, her long black curls creating an even sharper contrast against her skin. And you couldn’t explain why you felt the way you did, but the sight of those bright white teeth had your stomach twisting in knots. Despite her delicate appearance, every red flag was being raised in your body. The urge to run was strong.

“Hello, sweetheart,” She crooned, “You’re new, aren’t you?”

Something in the back of your mind demanded you lie.

“No, I’m not. If you’ll excuse me,” You said, your voice steady and cold despite the goosebumps on the back of your neck and the rapid thump of your pulse.

As you went to walk past her she easily stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, her face suddenly incredibly close as she pressed her nose to your hairline and took a deep breath. “Oh, you can’t lie to me, I remember every sweet little snack that comes in here.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Look, I’m not interested in…whatever that means,” You huffed, taking a few steps back and breaking free from her steel grasp, “I’m just here for a drink.”

“Oh?” She hummed, “So am I, I’m glad we can cut to the chase.”

“Okay?” You slowly asked before shuffling around her imposing figure, “See ya.”

You slipped into the crowd, forcing your way through the bodies in an attempt to shake her off of your trail. Anybody else in your position would have lingered for the ethereal woman, but you couldn’t ignore that feeling in the back of your mind or that tug deep in your gut. She was dangerous, and no pretty smile or sweet words could hide it. It was in times like these that your intense fear of death became present as paranoia, warning you of all potential threats.

When you started therapy you were encouraged to slowly step out of your comfort zone, to do things that would combat your anxieties. So, on good days, you try your best to succeed with these short-term goals hoping in the long run you could live normally like every other person your age. But you often found your anxiety creeping up on you and you knew after tonight you would need the rest of the week to recover and that meant avoidance which meant hiding out in your rented duplex.

But for now, you had to cope.

When you broke free from the crowd you stumbled forward, a stray limb jabbing you in the back and sending you reeling onto one of the velvet chaises. To your utter embarrassment, you landed right next to a couple that had left all of their inhibitions at the door like many other patrons of the underground club. The woman was straddling the man's thighs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, her long locks obscuring his face. Although you couldn’t see what he was doing it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the woman’s mouth opened to let out soft moans of pleasure.

Heat rushed up to your face as you stumbled off of the chaise and backed up from the voyeuristic lovers. Of course, you weren't innocent, but seeing something like that in person was different from shamelessly reading smut at three AM.

A few feet away from the couple was the bar. It was surprisingly empty for a club. The man you assumed to be the bartender behind the countertop was relaxing against it, his dark eyes scanning your awkward posture.

You swiftly approached the bar and yelled over the music, “Hi, how much is water?”

He gave you an amused chuckle before grabbing a small leather menu and sliding it over to you, “We don’t serve that here, sweetheart.”

You stared at him in confusion before flipping open the menu. The only thing listed there were various wines all costing an exorbitant amount of money, and by that, you meant at least three months' rent and that was just for a glass, not even the bottle.

“These prices are insane, are you kidding me?!”

“They’re from 1889, newbie.” He smiled, a grin identical to the woman from earlier.

“Well, this was a bust.” You groaned, the initial buzz of excitement from finding a town secret had long since faded.

“Can I offer you some advice?”

“Be my guest.”

“You might want to pay more attention to your surroundings, you’ve had eyes on you since you stepped foot in this place.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

“If I were you, I would get out of here. Things get crazy with fresh blood, ya know? The people here are like sharks in the water.” The bartender said, regaining your attention. “Uh oh, looks like you got one on your trail.”

You followed his and the pretty stranger’s gaze behind you. It was her again, the woman from earlier. She was slipping through the ocean of moving bodies with ease, her gait like that of a jaguar on the prowl as she approached. You watched as her polished fingers wiped away what looked like stray lipstick from beneath her lips.

Without thinking you darted away from the bar and past the pretty man, rushing through the first door you found which turned out to be the bathroom. Once the door fell shut you felt like you could relax for a moment. The music was muffled allowing you to think coherently for the first time since you had entered the bunker. Everything had become far too stimulating and you could feel your anxiety rising.

You leaned against the sink, turning the water on ice cold before splashing your face so that you could shock yourself back into clarity. You allowed yourself to brace the sink and relax your body, focusing on your breathing and grounding yourself before you lost control, just the way you were taught to.

The feeling of ice-cold fingers on your shoulders threw all of your work away.

You yelped and flinched, your eyes flying open to see her standing behind you in the reflection of the mirror.

“I knew you were a shy little thing, you should have just told me you wanted to do this privately.” She sighed with a sickeningly sweet smile.

In a moment of flight, fight, or freeze your body chose for you, your legs running without you telling them to do so. You didn’t make it far, not before she grabbed hold of you and threw you up against the wall. Your head hit the tile behind you so hard you saw stars.

“I’ve been hunting you down all night, you’ve made me build up quite the appetite. Do you know how many others I’ve had to threaten to get to you? Everyone always wants to take someone’s first bite.”

What the fuck was she talking about?

“While it was cute at first, we've played this game for long enough, don’t you think?”

“Let go of me!” You yelled while grabbing her wrists and trying to pry her hands off of you. To your complete and utter shock, she didn’t move an inch, it was like her bones were made of iron - immovable and inflexible.

“Now, now, don’t go throwing a tantrum that won’t get you anywhere.” She sighed, sliding her hand up your shoulder to wrap around your throat and squeeze.

Your throat and lungs burned as her grip slowly increased its pressure, your eyes watering as broken gasps and chokes for air gurgled past your lips.

“There there, much better.” She whispered into your ear as she released your throat, your body going limp as you gasped for air.

She easily gathered you up into her arms and softly tilted your head to the side, her perfectly polished nails grazing over the stretch of skin as she hummed before pressing her cherry-red lips to your throat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel a slight pinch.” She joked before her jaw widened and a demonic hiss left her throat as her teeth grazed the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck.

But before she could sink her teeth in she was harshly ripped away from you, her perfect face slammed so hard into the bathroom wall that the tiles shattered upon impact. A loud cry of pain echoed throughout the room as she pulled herself from the wall, black blood was pouring from her crooked nose and her sliced lips.

Behind her stood the stranger from before, a miffed and frankly disgusted expression marred his stunning features.

“What the fuck, Jin?!” She screamed, cupping her injured face.

“She’s not a fang banger, Junghee.”

Her once flawless features froze in shock as a look of horror crawled over her face. It was the look of someone who realized that they had made a horrible mistake.

“You’ve really fucked up this time.” He growled in irritation, a genuine growl that had your skin crawling.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?! What is she even doing here?!”

“That’s none of your concern anymore, get the fuck out!” He yelled, ripping the bathroom door open and throwing her out of the room.

You stayed pressed up against the wall out of pure terror. Vampires, you had walked into a fucking nest of vampires and had the closest brush with death you’ve ever had in your entire life. Your gaze remained locked on the vampire, Jin, as he calmed down; the waves of his rage slowly dissipating. In this lighting, you could finally see what you hadn’t been able to before in the dim club. Under the fluorescent lights, his eyes gleamed a vibrant, intimidating red.

You winced in fright as he took a step in your direction, your body attempting to meld into the wall behind you. Jin raised his eyebrow in questioning, taken aback by your apprehension. It wasn’t often he had humans cowering in fear, usually, they shook from…something else.

“Enough of that, come along human.” He snapped, grabbing you by your sleeve and easily dragging you from the room despite your protests and your heels digging into the ground. He was pulling you as if you weighed nothing.

“Let go!” You shrieked in terror, struggling against his hold with all of your might.

He came to a sudden halt, gripping you by your shoulder and pulling your body so close that there was barely an inch of space left between his chest and your own.

“Don’t you think you’ve drawn enough attention to yourself tonight?”

You peered over your shoulder, and sure enough, there were several of his kind watching the two of you from the dance floor. Their stares were curious and hungry. Unconsciously you shifted closer to him, choosing the lesser of two evils, one vampire versus many.

“Look at that you’re smart, for a human.” He snickered before guiding you back to the curtained area you had seen him sitting in before Junghee had cornered you in the bathroom.

“Sit, stay.” He said with a smirk as he pressed you down by your shoulder onto one of the couches before gesturing for someone to close the thick curtains.

“Look, I just want to go home. I won’t breathe a word about what happened here or what this place is, it was a mistake coming here.”

“A mistake indeed, but a mistake that needs correcting nonetheless,” Jin said with a distressed roll of his (impressive) shoulders. “So, tell me human, how did you find this place?”

You sat there in silence for a moment, your face the perfect image of confusion, “Are you being serious right now?”

“I don’t recall telling a joke.”

“You - there was a post online, on a forum? Anyone could have found it if they were looking close enough, it really wasn’t that hard to find. All I had to do was translate the text and it told me where to go.”

“A…forum?” He repeated, clearly confused.

Dear God, he was an old-ass vampire who didn't know much about technology or even the internet. He didn’t even know he had advertised the place. He was just an old man in a young man’s body.

“You know, a forum, it’s online, it's where people who want to discuss a certain topic go to. I was looking for obscure places, abandoned buildings, and lesser-known spots in town. I found the posting for this place and it just said ‘The best bite I’ve ever had’...I didn’t know it meant literally.” You said, your nerves leading you to ramble on and on.

Jin’s eyes pressed shut, his face contorting in anger as a hiss parted his lips, “Jimin.”

Jimin and himself were the only two vampires in their coven that knew about the club Jin hosted. Jin had been careless one night and Jimin had followed him, discovering the secret he had kept well hidden. Jin bought Jimin’s silence initially with limited access to the place, but now he was regretting every interaction he had had with the short vampire.

One of the few times Jin had found himself getting on with said vampire had led him to express his annoyance with the lack of human stock for the club. In turn, Jimin had offered to help “advertise” in exchange for unrestricted access to the club.

Now that he had figured out how the little human had snuck her way in, he had to decide what to do with her. He could always kill her, that would be the simple answer. He could drain her dry and snap her pretty neck in an instant. But that wasn’t really his style, he typically preferred to savor his meals unlike his gorger of a “brother”, Jungkook.

Perhaps the human could serve a purpose for him.

“Come, human.” He beckoned with his fingers.

You remained frozen in your seat, your body still in active survival mode keeping your joints locked.

Jin sighed, clearly miffed by your disobedience. He rose from his own seat only to cross the room and sit next to you. His long fingers gripped your chin and jerked your head up, forcing you to look at him. His hold was ice cold, the chill from his touch steadily seeping into your jaw. You felt paralyzed by his intimidating crimson gaze. His eyes flicked quickly over your features as he turned your head from side to side, taking in your every pore.

“Not bad, for a human. Don’t feel too offended, it’s difficult to look as flawless as myself.” He said with a casual tone as if he were merely stating a fact.

“You look pretty average to me,” You blurted out the lie, your lips moving before your brain could stop you from verbalizing.

It was so fast you almost couldn't see it but it was there, his left eye twitched and his grip tightened forcing a slight whine of pain from you. He roughly jerked your head to the side, choosing to ignore what you said despite how much it clearly bothered him. Instead, he trained his focus on your neck, pulling the collar of your shirt down past your collarbone.

“Smooth,” He observed, his icy touch skipping over the skin of your throat, “Junghee didn’t sink her dirty fangs in you after all, that’s good.”

Without warning he leaned down, his nose skimming over your neck as he breathed in, flooding himself with your scent. His grip tightened as you yelped and tried to jerk away from him in fear that this time you would surely die at the hands of a mythical creature, a monster in the flesh.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his plump lips brush your throat, his cool breath fanning over the skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. His actions were reminiscent of a wine connoisseur, the way they studied the body of the wine and the aroma. He was assessing you - attempting to decide if you would make a good meal, that you were certain of.

You jerked as you felt him bury his face further into your neck. You could feel the slight flutter of his eyelashes against your skin as a groan parted his lips.

“Well, don’t you smell delicious?” He crooned, his tongue swiping over his lips and just barely ghosting over your throat. “I think that we can come to an agreement, does that sound nice?”

“What,” You paused to clear your throat, “what did you have in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked,” He said with a wink after pulling back from you, “You see, I think we could mutually benefit from one another’s company. While breaking your pretty little neck would certainly be the easiest way out of this problem, I do find you quite amusing, pet.”

Your body grew stiff as your mind conjured up the image of his strong hands severing your vertebrate in one smooth pull, your body falling limp and lifeless on the club’s floor. Your greatest fear was death and Jin was death incarnate. He could very easily take your life if he so desired and he was making that very clear. He cared not whether you lived or died but only if your presence benefitted him in some manner. Your life was inconsequential.

“Very few people meet my standards but you are very lucky, I have a rather refined palette and it just so happens you meet said standards. So, I would like to propose a business arrangement. You will be my sole donor and keep those pretty lips sealed about everything you have witnessed tonight and in turn, you get to keep your life.”

“And if I don’t agree?” You dared to ask.

A sneer marred his perfect face, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him in his blood-red eyes.

“Then your pathetic human life ends right here, right now.” He said, his hand slipping down your jaw to loosely wrap around your throat. He could feel your pulse steadily thumping against his hand causing his mouth to involuntarily pool with saliva, hunger twisting in his gut.

Your breath hitched, fear slicing down your spine like a violent chill. You knew you only had one choice, and that was to appease the monster that sat beside you because he was far less frightening than the unknown, than the certain embrace of death that waited at every corner.

When fear rules your life, you have no choice. There is only ever one option.

“I agree,” Your voice trembled as you swallowed uncomfortably under his grasp. “I’ll be your donor.”

“Splendid.” He said with a grin, his canines glinting under the light.

“Can I…can I please go home now?” You asked, clasping your trembling hands together to try and still their shaking.

“No, there are a few more fine details we have to iron out,” He said, his index finger lightly tapping your chin, “Firstly, I expect you to maintain a healthy lifestyle and that means no alcohol within a twenty-four hour period before we meet and certainly no smoking it’s a dirty and disgusting habit.”

You nodded slowly, trying your best to avoid looking into his piercing red gaze.

“Try your best to have a healthy diet as well, the junk you humans gorge yourselves on taints your flavor, it’s unbearably sweet.” He said with a wrinkle of his nose in disgust. “I will compensate you for your efforts and your donations, once I’ve deemed you satisfactory, of course,”

“I think that about covers it. And when I call upon you I expect your presence. Do we understand one another?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Your throat was far too tight, your eyes burning with unshed tears as you weakly nodded in agreement.

“Very good,” He hummed before leaning back into the couch and soundly tapping the top of his thigh, “come, pet.”

You sat still, your body frozen in shock as you were unsure if you had heard him correctly.

“Well?” He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

“I…I don’t think that, um-”

“Are you going to keep babbling and test my patience, or are you going to be a good little pet and do as I say?” He interjected and immediately you remembered the phantom feeling of his hand on your throat, the light grip that screamed threat.

You awkwardly shuffled on your knees across the couch and hesitantly settled your legs on either side of him, hovering so that your weight did not rest on his lap. In response, he firmly gripped your hips and harshly pulled you down onto him, pressing you directly against him in a way that sent heat rushing beneath your skin despite the evident chill that emanated from his body.

You could see his fangs even clearer now. They had become longer than before, the sharpened points dragging along the flushed skin of his plump lower lip. You were terrified by the thought of them piercing your thin flesh. What if they punctured your jugular and you bled out to death? What if he had just been playing with his food this entire time, instilling a false hope of survival in you just to watch with murderous glee as you realized you were meant to die the entire time as he drained the life out of you?

And then what? The void of inevitable nothingness? The abyss of the afterlife? You were spiraling now, you could feel it in the way your chest constricted and your breaths came out in panicked, short huffs.

A soft, wet, stroke against your throat pulled you from your frightening thoughts. As your vision cleared you realized that he had settled back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his tongue gently and steadily lapping at your skin. Despite your embarrassment, you could feel your body slowly relaxing and melting against him. It felt like you were being shot up with a tranquilizer, your muscles going weak from his ministrations as the skin of your neck went numb.

And within seconds his fangs were sinking through your flesh, easy and smooth. You jolted in response, a cry of pain leaving you as your fingers curled into the silk of his shirt while your body subconsciously leaned away, trying to escape the sudden painful stimulus.

In response, you could feel Jin’s arms tighten around your back and harshly pull you flat against his chest with an animalistic growl, one that immediately paralyzed you with fear.

The vampire beneath you was enraptured, completely lost in the feeding frenzy as rivers of blood flowed freely past his plump lips and poured down his throat. Your scent had been seductive, but your taste? It was better than any wine, better than ambrosia and nectar, it was addictive. So addictive he was unsure if he would be able to stop but at the same time aware he could not kill you because the rest of his immortal existence would be utter hell if he were unable to get another hit.

Kim Seokjin had a refined palette and high standards and few people met his expectations. But you? You were complete and utter perfection. And he deserved perfection.

His grip was too hard, unrelenting, crushing you against him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked your spine by accident. It was like he was afraid to release you, afraid that there was a chance you would be able to escape him, the apex predator.

But these thoughts were all uselessly whimpered in the back of your mind because the rest of your brain was completely flooded with euphoria. You had never felt so warm and tingly despite his cool hands in your entire life. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, the only thing keeping you grounded in existence was his tight hold. And there were other feelings as well, feelings you would have been ashamed of had your inhibitions not completely disappeared. Feelings that had your thighs clenching on either side of his waist, your heart beating pathetically fast, your pupils dilating, and your limp body helplessly rocking against him with his hands guiding and encouraging you.

This was completely out of character for you. You didn’t climb into random men's laps and writhe against them eagerly like you were in heat. That had never been who you were, but the position you were in now clearly said otherwise.

You were growing lightheaded, not only from arousal and euphoria but from blood loss as well. You weakly pushed at his chest, your innate desire to survive prevailing over the pleasure that had relaxed your muscles.

“Jin, please,” You whimpered, struggling to speak.

The vampire didn’t respond or relent, his arms still wrapped around you like a vice. In desperation you wound your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at the roots. The pull certainly took him off guard, his fangs sliding free from your throat and his perfect lips parting to release a startled moan.

His eyes were half-lidded but his red irises still burned brightly under the dim lighting, a perfect match for the blood that stained his lips and chin. He said nothing at that moment and from what very little you knew about him you could conclude that it was not often that he was at a loss for words.

Warmth trickled down your neck, rivulets of blood still flowing freely now without him there to catch them and that seemed to snap him back to attention. He slowly leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with you until he was level with your throat once more, his tongue darting out to lick up the trails of blood before tracing over the puncture wounds he had left behind.

Your hold on his shoulders did nothing to dissuade him, in fact, he quite enjoyed your weak attempts to keep him at an arm's length. Humans were so fragile, so weak, and he enjoyed that.

“Relax,” He breathed, “We have a deal, remember? It would be a waste to drain you dry in one night.”

“And how do I know you don’t just like to play with your food?” You asked.

“You don’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it, pet.” He smirked, tapping your chin with his finger.

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“Let’s just say your sample was more than satisfactory, I have no reason to take back my word just yet.”

Yet. And yet, he was actually letting you go.

“I’ll see to it that you make it home safely,” He began. But before he could finish speaking you were eagerly sliding off of his lap.

His hands caught your waist easily, one holding you steady and the other firmly grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing you to look him in his eyes.

“Remember, I call, you answer. As long as you abide by my rules we won’t have a problem.”

You nodded quickly, his words barely registering in your brain as your body took control. You would agree to anything that would keep you alive.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

~~~~~~

Days had passed since that night at Blood Sugar, days where Jin had not tried to contact you, days that you spent isolated in your house - a wave of agoraphobia so strong that the thought of passing a threshold frightened you to the bone which was beyond ironic considering your situation. But those days also led to you trying to convince yourself it had all been a bad dream.

If the encounter at Blood Sugar had in fact been real, you had little to show for it. The skin of your throat was smooth and untouched despite the fangs that you were certain had torn through it like paper. The only parting gift you had was the urge to sleep for days, a splitting headache, and a touch of soreness around your ribs where you were sure his arms had once restrained you.

Pretending it hadn’t happened was easier on your mind. Your whole world had been turned upside down and the monsters you once thought to be the stuff of stories had been pulled from the shadows and abruptly thrust into the light. It was easier to pretend it was a dream. But you couldn’t shake those blood-red eyes from your memories nor the show of pure strength that had been demonstrated against Junghee - her once perfect face that was so easily disfigured by the elder vampire.

You were afraid of death and the realization that it actually lurked at every eerie corner and you had sat in its lap like a contented house cat was enough to fry the connections in your brain.

And you could only pretend for so long. You could only ignore reality for so long.

It had been three weeks since you had seen him when he finally confirmed his existence in the form of a simple text.

“Hungry, you know where to find me.”

And that made your blood run cold. It was time to finally face reality, you had actually made a deal with a vampire and now he was cashing in on your promise. It was donate or die.

And in an absolute panic, you made a terrible decision. You placed your phone face down and retreated beneath your blankets like a small child hiding from the boogeyman.

Your phone did not cease to remind you that you had made a bad decision. The messages started sporadically - spread out throughout the hour. But Jin’s impatience grew as did the texts and calls. The eerie silence of your bedroom filled with a continuous buzzing as your phone continued to vibrate until you couldn’t take it anymore and without looking at a single message you shut down your phone. But that only brought temporary relief.

You were begrudgingly pulled from the safety of your bed that day for an inspection your landlord had scheduled two days prior. There was no getting out of it and in your mind, it was a welcome distraction from the spiraling anxiety you felt when you thought about your powered-down phone.

You had no way of knowing that their presence would only worsen the problem that you had created.

You were generally a quiet person that kept to yourself around strangers, especially strangers that had a say in whether you continued living in your home or not. You practically stuck yourself to the walls as she inspected your home, and while your landlord was not necessarily a mean woman she wasn’t very chatty. You two got along in those regards.

You were able to breathe when she gave you an awkward, tight-lipped smile, waved, and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone you rushed back into your bedroom and just barely pulled your curtains aside to peer out your window and watch her retreat. But when you did look out that window you felt your blood run cold. She was still there, standing on the walkway, and directly in front of her was him. It was twilight out, the sun still desperately trying to cling to a purple and ochre colored sky. It was safe for him to be out. He was giving her a charming smile, one that anyone would fall over at the sight of. You could see him laugh and then say a few words but you were too far away to make out what they were. And then to your utmost horror, she walked away and he made his way up the front steps.

You were frozen, your muscles tense, and refused to move. You held your breath as you listened. There was no way that he could get in, you hadn’t given him permission. But all of your hope washed out of you when you heard the front door’s knob turn and the soft click of it leaving the frame. There were a few light steps and then the door shut once more.

He was inside the house.

You felt absolutely helpless as all you could do was wait for him to find you. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, you were cornered.

It was only a matter of seconds before he did find you, a stern and angry expression clear on his face as he rounded the banister and the stairs and stood right outside the door frame of your room. His eyes were different now, they weren’t the vibrant red that you remembered. They were a deep burgundy now, almost black as they stared back at you with intensity. You couldn’t even make out the difference between his pupils and his irises. It was a bottomless, dark gaze.

“How did you get in?” You asked, the words rushing out of you to your own surprise.

One of his dark brows quirked, whether it was in surprise or irritation you did not know.

“Elaine let me in,” He said with a stomach-turning grin.

Your landlord. She technically owned the house, she could let him in even if you didn’t invite him.

“I thought I made myself clear when we spoke, did I not?” He asked rhetorically, “I call, you answer, I feed, you keep your life. What part of that did your little human brain not comprehend?”

“You called me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“My phone died-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” He snapped, his voice shockingly loud and incomposed.

You flinched back against the wall as he finally entered your room only to stop dead in his tracks not more than five feet away. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his fangs descended on instinct.

The two of you stood there, both staring at each other and refusing to move, waiting for the other to act first.

Jin was the one to break the stalemate.

“You’re on your period.”

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, warmth radiating beneath your skin in response. He could smell it, that was the only explanation and that was a mortifying thought that had you pressing your thighs together, tight and closed.

He looked shaken, frazzled, and incredibly unlike himself. His rage was forgotten, his hunger controlling him. He was gripping the footboard of your bed, the skin of his knuckles stretched taut as he held onto it like he was keeping himself grounded.

“I want a taste,” He said, staring you down without a single blink.

It took you a moment to comprehend what he had just said, and as soon as you connected the dots you were anchoring yourself to the wall and vehemently shaking your head.

“No, no way!”

“Yes,”

“No! That’s messy and gross and I never agreed to do anything like that with you!

“I’m hungry,” He hissed, “And you expect me to just leave when you smell like fucking heaven?”

“Yes, because everything about this is crazy! I don’t know you, I never wanted to find you and now I’m stuck with you until you ultimately decide to kill me so I’m sorry that you’re hungry but it’s not even my problem in the first place!”

That was the one upside to being on your period, the influx of hormones allowed you to become confrontational.

“I’ll pay you double for a feed directly from the source,” He said with gritted teeth.

Jin was never one to bargain, usually he would leave a deal with far more than the other party. But this was something he refused to pass up. Vampires, very often, had little to no inhibitions especially when it came to sex. Sex was often a co-occurrence with feeding, and menstruation was the epitome of that. He didn’t expect a pathetic little human like you to understand. You were fettered by mortal concepts that had forced you to believe you were to be a social pariah during that time, that it was “gross,” as you had said. Little did you know you were considered a delicacy in his world, ripe for the taking. And he knew how delicious you were when he fed from the vein, his mouth watered at the thought of what it would be like now.

Your silence to his proposition only frustrated him even more.

“Do you know how many people would die to be in your position right now? I’ve had women beg to be on their knees for me and I’m offering to pay you to do the opposite.”

You were sure that he was telling the truth because he certainly was the most breathtaking man you had ever seen in your entire life. But what confused you was why he didn’t just throw you down and do as he pleased. He was bigger than you, stronger than you, and far faster than you. If he wanted it as badly as he claimed, why was he bargaining with you? You could only assume it was the lingering effects of the era he had lived in. While he was an asshole, perhaps he took no joy in forcing himself on a woman in that manner.

And then there was the money. Rent wasn’t cheap, that was for sure. And not many people could say that they were paid to be pleasured. It wasn’t a terrible offer, and the last thing you wanted to do was displease a vampire that could kill you and had threatened to do so before.

Shit.

“You wont hurt me?” You asked, your voice wavered.

“Quite the opposite,” He smirked. He knew that he had won.

A gasp of surprise parted your lips as he closed the distance between you, moving so fast that a gust of wind whipped up ruffling your hair and sending loose pages of paper tumbling from your desk. Your heart stuttered in fright, every minute you spent with him only served as a reminder of how dangerous he was. This arrangement you had with him was dangerous, you were toeing the line between life and death and that thought made your stomach turn in unease. He was a vampire, an apex predator, a creature that you had stopped believing in long ago, but also the undead embodiment of death. The very thing you feared the most. All it would take is one moment of frenzy, a lack of control and you would be left to bleed out in your sheets with no one to come and find your remains for weeks to pass.

You didn’t want to die, but you knew he wouldn’t let you live.

The touch of his cold fingers to your waist brought you back to him as he tugged you toward your bed, pressing you down onto the sheets before moving over you like an animal on the hunt. His eyes were pitch black, the veins beneath them prominent, and his fangs dangerously grazed his plump lips. He looked like a fallen angel, like Lucifer himself, the most beautiful outcast of them all.

An involuntary cry of fright left you as he moved impossibly fast once more, his face now level with the side of your head, the tip of his nose just barely brushing over your cheek as he chuckled. Even his breath was frigid.

“You’re nervous,” He hummed in delight, “Careful now, we wouldn’t want your heart to stop, would we?”

He could feel the violent, rapid thumps of your heart where his chest was pressed against yours. It had been a long time since he had had a human like this, oftentimes he found it too annoying. They were fragile creatures and having to restrain himself was rather inconvenient, but he preferred his partners to be responsive when he had his way with them, unlike some of his kind who couldn’t care either way. Was it still necrophilia if both parties were technically dead?

And while your heart was making itself known, you could feel nothing in response. His heart didn’t beat like yours, it had gone silent long ago and that thought only reminded you of just how wrong this entire thing was. He was dead, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around how he also seemed so very alive and while that scared you deeply, it also ignited a disturbing thought within you. But that thought was quickly halted when he noticed your lack of attention on him.

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him.

An annoyed growl rumbled in his throat as he moved back, quickly going down the length of your body and ripping your shorts down your legs, exposing you to the cold air.

“Jin wait-” It felt as if all the air was sucked out of your lungs as he ignored you, plunging his face directly in between your thighs.

He was unlike any of the partners you had had before. He did not take his time even though he evidently had plenty of it. He didn’t warm you up with gentle words, pleasing touches, or lingering kisses. Instead, he was absolutely ravenous. It was just like he said, he was hungry. But you, on the other hand, had not been prepared in the slightest for how sensitive you would be.

You could only whine in discomfort as you tried to clench your thighs closed, one hand coming down to push at his shoulder. Your actions were completely useless, no matter how much force you could use it was like pushing against a concrete wall - he was immovable.

You could feel him growl in annoyance which only sent a shock throughout your body, your hips twitching and your shoulder blades digging into the mattress. His fingers were harshly pressing against your thighs, forcing them open wider and hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could get impossibly closer to you.

“Too - too much!” You barely managed to get the words out, your body jolting from sharp bursts of pleasure.

“Be a good pet and take it for me,” He crooned, parting from you for a mere moment to look up at you - his bright crimson eyes cutting through the darkness that had steadily filled the room. “I thought you said you would do anything to keep your life?”

You couldn’t explain the feeling that his words gave you, but the shame that lingered was recognizable. Shame that enduring pleasure to ensure your survival was an addictive cocktail of emotions.

You couldn’t even form a response in time before he returned back to his feeding, his soft lips and firm tongue caressing you in a way that made you realize he was actively trying to make you feel good instead of solely focusing on gorging himself on your blood. You had no way of knowing that that just made the feed all the more enjoyable, the rush of hormones in your body only adding to the flavor. It was a flavor he already knew he was addicted to and while he was reluctant to admit it to himself, it was a flavor he could not live without.

And with each feed there were more problems to come. While he knew his blood, saliva, and venom were incredibly intoxicating to your weakened human state - he underestimated the effect you would have on him. With all of the hormones his bite coaxed out of you there was one pesky one that affected him: oxytocin. It was a bonding hormone, one that fostered a relationship between feeder and donator which was why so many vampires rarely fed from the same human more than once typically preferring to drain the body dry and dump it anywhere to rot.

He was willingly making himself vulnerable to you all in order to get another fix, another hit of your blood. And the worst part was, he didn’t mind.

“Jin!” You cried.

He was disgusted with himself, disgusted by the way his body shuddered and was aflame with tingles at the mere moan of his name rolling off of your lips. It was nothing special, countless others had done it before you, but he couldn’t understand why it was you. Why were you special?

He could blame it on the damn hormone bond all he wanted, but this was only the second feed which meant, to his utmost horror, it was him. His interest in you, a human, was more than just superficial desire.

Oh, how far he had fallen.

He smelled your salty tears and he could even see the gleam of them as they rolled down the curves of your cheeks as your hips pitched forward, broken whimpers wracking your body that only served to drive him crazier. He could drown in you and it still wouldn’t be enough.

And as soon as all of the tension within you snapped he was digging his fangs into the meat of your thigh, fresh, hot blood rushing over his tongue and down his throat. The blend was intoxicating for not only him but for you as well - the bite secreting venom that doubled the effects of all of his efforts that lit your brain and body on fire. You could become addicted to him just as easily as he was to you because that feeling, that feeling was indescribable and would never be able to be replicated by anyone but him. Just as he was chasing you for his fix, you could easily see yourself doing the same.

When you came too, you were startled by the gentle touch of his tongue to the puncture wounds on your thigh. It soothed over the cuts rhythmically, urging the skin to sew itself back together again. And while he worked, he stared. Bright, crimson red eyes were trained on you. His gaze dark and dangerous. Your body that had once been limp and relaxed immediately tensed once more. The knowledge that a predator was nestled into your lap was enough to reignite fear in your chest. You feared that the slightest twitch or breath would signal for him to lunge again, but this time the outcome would not be so pleasurable for you.

But Jin was a man of his word. You didn’t die that night and your bank account was fed in due course.

This continued for the next six days. Whereas before it seemed like the vampire was able to abstain from feeding for as long as he wished, he had now become ensnared by a ravenous, bottomless hunger. And that was all the more frightening. But what was even more frightening was the way he began to change.

He was still rude, cold, and dominating. But he had become ever present. His closeness could be described as suffocating. The only solitude you could find was in the daylight, but the minute the sun began to set he was back and hungrier than before. And after the…feeding, he would linger. He would touch you more often, his words still snarky but lacking their usual bite. It was like he was becoming comfortable around you. He was still insufferable, but undeniably comfortable.

It was that comfortability that encouraged you to entertain that dark thought you had tried to smother before. Your ever present fear of death could easily be solved, the answer to your problem mere inches away from you. You understood the gravity of the situation, what it would mean to become something like him. But you couldn’t deny the truth that you could live with ending the lives of others if it meant you could sustain your own. You didn’t want to die, you couldn’t fathom dying, and you had an undead man at your disposal. If he was willing.

It was after your seventh session together that you decided to finally ask him. His cherry red lips were pressed against your throat, swallowing every last drop of blood that slid down your skin. Your neck stung and your body thrummed with ecstasy, your fingers cupping the back of his head on reflex - moving without your permission.

“Jin?” You asked.

He hummed in response, visibly enthralled by the feed but letting you know he was listening anyway.

“I want to be like you,” You whispered.

A slick pop echoed in the room, his fangs pulled from your neck and retracted into his mouth, disappearing from sight. His eyes narrowed, his dark brows drawing together in confusion and distaste.

“No,” He simply said, retreating to the foot of your bed.

“Why not?”

“Because you would be useless to me, that’s why. What good is a donor that’s dead?” He scoffed.

You couldn’t deny the ache you felt in your chest, the sting that “useless” struck against your heart.

“You’re…you’re going to grow tired of me eventually. I’ll get old, I won’t taste as good anymore. Then, I’ll be useless.”

“Oh, I plan to savor every last drop that you can offer. I won’t let you go to waste like that, you are mine after all.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? You’ll just kill me before I go bad? Put me out of my misery before I can rot? I’m a fucking human being not a piece of meat!” You yelled, angrily standing up from your bed.

You expected him to become enraged, to become violent. But if anything he was deathly calm, still, and silent.

“Wouldn’t that be a kindness,” he stood from the bed, now towering over you, “To not have to grow older, to be in pain? To just stop here where you’re perfect, when you’re young and beautiful?” He said with a soft caress down your cheek.

“But you could give me what I want,” You pleaded, “You would never have to see me again, I could go far away and I wouldn’t be your problem anymore.”

A frown pulled at his lips, frustration falling over his features, “It’s not as simple as that. You would be bound to me, there are rules about these things.”

“Rules? Like laws, is there someone in charge of you?”

“Don’t bring that Twilight bullshit into this,” He hissed, running his hands through his hair in what appeared to be distress.

“Then I don’t understand, why can’t you do this for me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked! I’ve given you everything you wanted so that I could stay alive! Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to die!”

“Because you don’t understand what you’re asking for!” He snapped.

In that moment, he was brought back to that fateful day all those years ago. Yoongi had warned him, he had tried to stop him and he hadn’t listened. And now, he was being faced with a painful reminder of his naivety and arrogance when he stared back at you. Jin never regretted becoming a vampire. He never regretted his inability to grow old or the only way he was able to satiate his hunger. He enjoyed it. But if there was anything he didn’t enjoy, it was being under the control of someone else.

“We would be connected for the rest of eternity. Anything I ask of you, you have to do. You can’t deny me even if you tried. And even if you ran, you would eventually come back whether you wanted to or not. I would be your sire, your creator, you couldn’t hurt me no matter how badly you want to. We would be stuck together, do you understand?”

If there was anything he was afraid of, which he would never admit to, it would be having to rely on someone like that. It would be loving you, obsessively loving you like he felt the desire to creep over him. While he refused to admit it, all of those feeds had done their toll. He could feel the tugs of a weak bond forming between you - begging to be strengthened by a little of his own blood and a swift death. If you stayed human, he could save you from the fate he suffered through. And if he killed you, then no one else could have you. It was insane, but to him it was incredibly logical.

You had been quiet for quite some time, your face pensive before you finally spoke.

“That doesn’t sound all that different from our current arrangement.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” He yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him and flinging it across the room in a show of strength and anger. So this was what Yoongi felt like.

“You’ve exhausted your usefulness to me,” He spat in rage, “Good luck defending yourself on your own.”

And just like that, he was gone. The only remainder of his presence was the broken chair that lay in pieces on the ground and the huge dent in the plaster from where it had hit.

You couldn’t stop the sudden wave of tears that poured down your face. That had been your only way to cheat death, and he wouldn’t give it to you after you had given him every piece of yourself that he had asked for.

The silence was loud, your sniffles and your pounding heart painfully apparent. But what was even more apparent, was the sense of paranoia steadily creeping over you.

What did you have to defend yourself from now that he was gone?

~~~~~~~

Jin was starving.

Even he was not so thick-headed that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He was throwing a temper tantrum.

He had left you for a month now in what was supposed to be a break that would teach you a lesson. You weren’t allowed to make demands from him, you weren’t the one in control. But if there was anything he had learned from his pathetic plan, it was that you were very much in control.

You had managed to burrow your way into his unwilling, stone cold heart. A feat that no one in his human and vampiric life had managed to do. The very thought itself made his stomach turn. He had never had to depend on anyone else, he never wanted commitment in that sense. Yet here he was yearning for you, a pathetic little hermit. His pathetic little hermit.

He let out an audible groan, collapsing back against one of the velvet couches in the club. The blue and red lights flashed over his face, his stomach rumbled in pain. He had thought it would only take a week for you to break, just a few days before you apologized and begged for him to come back. But he had greatly underestimated you.

It had been a month and he hadn’t fed. Everyone else paled in comparison, their blood sitting on his tongue like spoiled milk; he couldn’t even manage to swallow a drop. And that was completely his fault. This was why he was warned not to keep feeding from the same source. You were bonded now and he was suffering because of it.

He had never felt so backed into a corner before. And the fact that it was all because of a human was just salt in the wound. He thought that time would sever the bond but in reality, distance had just made it grow stronger.

Even now he was certain that he could smell your scent sifting through the hazy air, it’s tendrils beckoning him to come find you.

It was the prick of his fangs against his lip and the sudden pool of saliva flooding his mouth that made him realize it was anything but a fantasy. You were there. A wave of satisfaction rolled over him, you had broken first in a stalemate that you were unaware of. He had won. But any excitement he felt about his win was quickly thwarted when he was reminded of the present danger. You, who smelled so heavenly, had once more crawled into a nest of vampires.

He quickly lurched to his feet, cutting through the crowds of vampires and humans alike in order to find you. You were in the most dangerous spot in Briar Hills and he could not protect you. His abstinence had greatly weakened him, he could only hope that no one else would be aware of that. He was the eldest there and he was in charge, that should be enough to keep everyone else away from you.

Well, all except one.

You hadn’t even seen her coming, her or her “friends.” You had just barely managed to step foot inside the bunker before she was ripping you back outside, moving so quickly that your head was spinning and your neck burned with whiplash.

You moaned in pain, one hand cradling the back of your neck while the other dug into the damp earth in an attempt to ground yourself from the violent pounding that vibrated all throughout your head. At first you were utterly dumbstruck, confused as to what exactly happened. But the swift kick of a pointy shoe to your ribs rolled you onto your back and allowed you to be faced with four pairs of glowing red eyes.

The pain in your head was quickly overshadowed by the hot shooting pain in your ribs. Your spinning head could just barely register the loud crack that had sounded when you were kicked. What looked to be an effortless, swift strike from her was enough to break your ribs.

“Hello sweetheart,” A familiar, sickeningly sweet voice crooned.

It was her, that vampire from a month ago. The one that Jin had saved you from.

Cold shocks ran through your body as you panted, grabbing your side as you tried to scoot away.

“Ah, ah, ah,” She teased, grabbing you by your ankle and roughly pulling you back. Another sickening pop echoed through the night as a violent scream tore its way free from your throat.

“Now, I’m not letting you get away from me so easily this time. You really pissed me off, and now you’re going to give me what I want.”

You had no time to react and nowhere to run to. She and her friends descended on you like a pack of hungry vultures. They ripped at clothing and jostled you around like a toy they didn’t want to share. And all four of them dug into you. With Jin, there had been little to no pain. But this was the worst pain of your life. You could feel teeth digging into you, ruthlessly cutting through your flesh and ripping it apart. Hot, thick blood was pouring out of your wounds, drenching your skin and your clothes in an instant.

There was nothing you could do but scream, cry, and shake.

You were helpless and soon you were going to die. You had no doubt that they had every intention to bleed you dry. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Your greatest fear was suddenly becoming a reality and there was absolutely nothing that you could do about it. Death spared no one, especially you.

And for a moment you thought that death really had come for you because the pain was suddenly wrenched away.

You laid there, groaning in pain as you listened to what was happening. You could hear her low, sultry voice, the sounds of hits landing, and a deep, rumbling growl that shook you to your very core. It wasn’t death, but it was a close second. Jin had found you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes and look, you struggled to turn your head but when you did your heart dropped. Half of her group collapsed, in various states of injury. But Jin was the worst. He was barely managing to stand and he looked so weak. His cheeks were gaunt compared to the last time you had seen him, the veins beneath his eyes prominent and exposed. But worse of all, he was coated in his own blood. It stuck to him like an oil spill, pouring from wounds that were trying to heal themselves albeit very slowly. He wasn’t going to make it out of this; he was too hurt, too weak, too hungry, and outnumbered.

“I knew it,” Junghee giggled, her voice pitchy with murderous glee. “I could smell you all over her, you bonded with her!”

Jin said nothing. He wobbled, his chest rose and fell rapidly with angered breaths.

“Oh, how far you’ve fallen, Jin,” She sneered, “So high and mighty and look at you now. You’re no better than the rest of us - in fact you’re weaker than us! I’m so sick and tired of living under you and your rules, I think it’s time someone replaces that coven of yours. It’s time for a new jurisdiction.”

“I’ll give you one chance to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness,” He said with a deathly calm voice.

“I’m going to rip you apart and burn the pieces. And when I’m finished with you, I’m going to drain your little pet dry.” She said with a cocky grin.

Jin hummed in response, his head slightly tilting back as he thought. His eyes seemed to glow even more intensely in the dark, a ring of light shining around his irises as he spoke.

“That’s an interesting idea. Tear each other apart.”

You stared in shock as they immediately obeyed his command. It was mind-control, he could compel individuals to do his bidding. How many times had he used it on you and you had gone on unaware of it?

All four of them turned on one another, rushing at each other with abandon. It looked like they were marionettes, like someone else was controlling their limbs and forcing them to do as he commanded. You watched as the four of them attacked each other, clawing at their friends and prying their limbs from their bodies. The sounds were horrific. You could hear them screaming, crying, gurgling, and begging for it to end as they tortured one another. Black blood sprayed and stained their hands and faces as they ripped each other apart limb by limb.

Your stomach rolled at the sight, your wounds flashed hot with pain, and your ribs and ankle throbbed in sympathy as they violently mutilated each other until they couldn’t reach one another anymore - their limbs dismembered and useless.

You choked down the bile that threatened to escape your throat. They had tried to kill you, they were getting what they deserved. They were going to do the same to you and Jin.

Jin.

You caught sight of the vampire a few feet away from you. He had fallen to the ground after he had issued the command. His body was unnervingly still, his skin ashen and the sickliest pallor you had ever seen. He was dying, you were sure of it. That was something you had thought to be impossible for his kind but here he was proving you wrong. It was possible, but hard to do.

You felt a surge of adrenaline wash over you. You couldn’t let him die, he was your one chance to avoid that very same fate. You needed him just as much as he needed you. If you could help him then he would owe you. You could get the immortality that you were desperate for.

You cried out in pain as you rolled onto your side and crawled to him. Each inch you moved felt like you were being stabbed along the way. Your body was crying in protest but you were on a mission.

When you finally closed the distance between you, you could breathe a sigh of relief. He was hurt badly, but he was still “alive,” if not barely.

You grabbed him by his shoulders and slowly, painfully, dragged him into your lap. Your body threatened to crumble beneath his weight as you guided his head to the open wound on your neck. This was a risk, a really big risk. You were hurt badly and you had already lost so much blood, but you were sure that he would be able to stop.

“Come on, Jin,” You encouraged him, cupping the back of his head with your hand, “Come on drink, you need to drink.”

You felt a cool puff of breath on your neck, his nose slightly skimming over your pulse as the scent of blood pulled him out of unconsciousness. And as soon as he was awake, his predatory instincts took control. He lunged forward, wrapping you up in a vice like grip as he dug his fangs into the already open wound.

You hissed but held still, allowing him to get his fill. He was scarily inhuman at that moment. Jin had fed from you many times, but he had never been like this before. Silent, overbearing, and territorial.

Your eyes began to flutter, they were feeling incredibly heavy and it was becoming hard to keep them open. You had lost too much blood, you were still losing too much blood.

“Jin,” You croaked, “You need to stop.”

He ignored you and continued drinking, only digging his fangs in harder to force more blood from your throat.

“Jin please stop, please,” You cried, “You’re going to kill me!”

When you realized he wasn’t responding, that he was too enthralled by the feeding frenzy, you began to fight. You tugged at his hair, pushed at his shoulders, kicked at him with your good leg but it all was for nothing.

He let out an animalistic growl, squeezing you tighter before roughly shoving you to the ground and pinning your wrists above your head. He groaned in delight as your fighting ceased, as your blood flowed more easily into his waiting mouth.

You were fading fast, your visions steadily beginning to black out around the edges. He was going to kill you, and just like before there was nothing you could do about it. You were utterly helpless.

Your own desires would be your downfall. Just like Icarus, you had flown too close to the sun.

~~~~~~~

When Jin came to, he was confused.

He couldn’t remember anything after he had ordered Junghee and her coven to dismember one another. But when he became aware, he quickly figured out what had happened. Their corpses were sprawled about, their limbs still occasionally twitching.

And you were there, scarily still in his arms with the remnants of your blood on his lips.

He didn’t expect a wave of grief to wash over him. He hadn’t felt that even when his own family died or when he watched them mourn the loss of a son that never truly perished. But the sight of you, your broken body limp in his arms was enough to force a choked sob out of him. It was painful, it was complete and utter despair.

It was in that moment that he realized he did love you. In some horrific twist of fate, he loved you. He once thought that he would be able to kill you, then no one else could have you. But he didn’t anticipate the pain that it would cause him.

A soft, weak flutter halted all grief he felt. It was your heart. Your little human heart was still trying to beat. You could still be saved.

That was how he ended up here, with the only person he knew that could fix you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing with all your free time.” Namjoon hummed, checking over your vitals.

Jin stayed quiet, nervously clenching and unclenching his fingers. At that moment, he understood what Yoongi went through. If he believed in karma, which he didn’t, he would have been able to appreciate it. This was what he deserved after what he put Yoongi and the fledgling through. But Jin was far more determined to keep you human than his “brother” ever was.

But it was undeniable that he could finally understand him. He finally knew what Yoongi was trying to protect him from all those years ago.

“Junghee really did a number on her. I’ve given her an awful lot of my blood to heal her wounds. It would just take one quick break, Jin. You said it yourself, this is what she wanted.” He mused.

“She’s my pet, nothing more. She’s useless to me as one of us, I want to make her last as long as I can.” He said with a warning glare.

“It’s useless, you know, lying to me. I could smell it on you the second you came through the door. You bonded with her, she’s yours now. Do with her what you will, but she will join us soon. Whether it’s you or me, well that’s entirely up to her. But I have a feeling she would let any of us do it at this point.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but I would. Remember this, everything I do is for our family. You helped me with Yoongi, you understood then what I was trying to do. You can keep playing with her for a little longer, but she will join us. Don’t make me command you, Jin.”

Jin’s back stiffened, that familiar tug in his brain was there. That feeling that he needed to fulfill his creator’s wishes. And so, he bought himself some time.

“I don’t think it’s her you need to be worried about,” Jin said, that cocky edge to his voice back once more.

“Oh really?” Namjoon asked, leaning forward in interest.

“When was the last time you checked in on Hoseok?”

Namjoon’s brows furrowed in thought. Jin had got him, this was what he was good at - misdirection.

“Hoseok too?” He mumbled to himself. “Don’t you find it odd that this is all happening now? Yoongi and the fledgling, you and your pet, Taehyung and the little human he keeps in his studio, and now Hoseok? How interesting.”

He knew about Taehyung? But he hadn’t said anything about Jimin or Jungkook. He didn’t know everything. He had two more bargaining chips to buy himself more time.

“Watch over her, make sure she doesn’t hemorrhage. You’ve done a good thing, Jin. Thank you.” Namjoon said before briskly leaving the room - his office that now served as a hospital for you.

He wasn’t so sure that he had done a good thing. He was paying for what he had done to Yoongi now, what would come to him next now that he sold out Hoseok. And what about Jungkook and Jimin, what would happen when he revealed their secrets as well.

That was all he could think about as he waited for you to wake up. Namjoon’s blood was doing a thorough job. He was old and strong and because of that your body was mending itself incredibly quickly.

The only thing he hated was that you smelled like him. It was Namjoon’s blood in your body and because of that you were practically emanating his scent. Your normal heavenly essence was murky in the haze of his creator’s and it would take some time for it to dissipate. He was going to have to live with it for the time being. For now, he needed to figure out how he was going to protect you from the fledgling and from Hoseok. One was hungry and the other was certainly going to be pissed with him.

But if he could keep you like this for a little while longer it was worth it.

Your heart monitor was starting to accelerate, the beeping became loud and frequent. You were awake.

He slowly raised his head to look at you and he felt his stomach drop. You were giving him the thousand yard stare, your frail body tense on the mattress. You were utterly and completely frightened of him.

Your name left his lips in a hushed whisper as he stood, moving closer to your bedside. You shrieked and huddled into the furthest corner that you could.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to block yourself off from him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his tone the softest it had ever been, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Let me go, I want to leave. I don’t want to see you ever again, I want to go home!” You were rambling now, every frightened word running out of you with a gasp.

“You can’t leave, it’s too late now.” He said apologetically. He had never apologized before.

“I want to leave!” You screamed again, “You tried to kill me! You said you wouldn’t but you did! You lied, you’re a fucking liar!”

“I’m in control now, that’s never going to happen again I swear.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” You screamed again, your words trailing off with a broken sob.

He had felt grief when he thought he had killed you, but now he was experiencing heartbreak. His first, genuine heartbreak. He thought seeing your lifeless body was bad, but this, this was somehow worse.

He was suddenly overcome with the urge to comfort you, to hold you. And so he tried. The second he picked you up you began to writhe, screaming obscenities at him and clawing at his skin. You were trying to do anything you could to get away from him.

The last time he had held you like this, held you this close, he had tried to kill you. Your body and mind were completely in survival mode now and you needed to get away from him.

But he wouldn’t let you budge. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped you in a tight embrace, pinning your arms in between the two of you so that you couldn’t hurt yourself while trying to hurt him. All you could do was scream and cry and writhe but eventually your body went lax when you realized it was pointless. There was no escape.

Your brush with death had only made you more frightened of it. You had met that dark, empty void and the void had stared back at you. What some might have found to be peaceful, you had found to be terrifying. And, as a result, you were terrified of Jin. He had brought you to that void and your body was certain he would escort you back.

“I’m sorry,” He finally said, the words not burning him like he once thought they would for the longest time. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffled as you limply laid in his hold. You could feel the soft touch of his lips against your cheeks, collecting your tears as they brushed by in the lightest of kisses.

“Never again,” He mumbled, “I promise.”

You whimpered once more, the word liar echoing in your mind.

“I’ll give you what you want, I swear. You’ll never be that close to death again, I’ll keep you safe. Just give me time.”

You slightly perked in interest. What you want…what you want. He’ll give you what you want. You tilted your head up at the same time he went to kiss your forehead, only for him to gently kiss you instead. He froze for a moment, still as a statue as he processed what he had done before he did it again, and again, and again. It was like he had discovered a new insatiable hunger that he couldn’t settle no matter how many times he tried.

“I love you,” He admitted so softly against your lips that you thought you had imagined it.

He loved you. He was going to give you what you wanted. You had almost died. He was a liar. Your mind was reeling.

“No one else can have you, not even death can take you away from me; because you’re mine, remember?”

#bts x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jin #bts fanfic #yandere jin x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #vampire jin #vampire jin x reader #yandere vampire #vampire bts #vampire bts x reader #predator universe #yandere vampire jin #yandere vampire jin x reader

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hamburgerndsprite · 2 days ago

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Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 5

Note: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

[OT7]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Nothing New by myg-butterfly

Pairing: Ot7! BTS x Choreographer! Reader (Seokjin x Reader focused) Genre: ANGST, eventual fluff, Injured!Reader Summary: You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

{SERIES}

➺ The List by inthelow [ONGOING]

Pairing: fashion girl f!reader x ot7! BTS Genre: literally porn with a plot; a lil fluff but mostly smut and crack Parts: 1/8 Summary: after finding out that some girls have a list of their hookups and how they rank them on different aspects, the boys are eager to know their scores and show you how they can be better than the others.

➺ Peculiar Pack by daydreamindollie [ONGOING]

— pairing: poly hybrid bts x f.reader — genre: fluff, poly!au, hybrid! au — parts: 9/17 (The parts are not connected. It is an unsystematic catalog of poly hybrid bts x f.reader imagines) — summary: you're a successful hybrid writer and psychologist, who takes in seven hybrids one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden

➺ War of Hearts by namjooningelsewhere [ONGOING]

✽Pairing - OT7 x reader (DJ) and OT7 x Lily ✽Ratings - 18+ ✽Genre(s) - Mafia Au, Angst, Fluff, mentions of smut. ✽parts: 9 parts updated ✽Summary- You’ve been lurking in the shadows, protecting the seven of Bangtan even if it means you must give your own life. After all, that’s what you do when you are in love with someone irrevocably. That pain seems to be minuscule in light of their safety. But it was never about you, for all you are is a speck of dust in the universe they have created for them and their girlfriend. Your heart’s at war, but it’s fine, you can smile through the pain as long as it means they smile- for her.

➺ Chantaje by numinousher

pairing: ceo!bts x actress!reader (poly!au) genre: fluff, angst, ceo au, extremely powerful ceo’s that they get their hands dirty (by having someone killed) parts: 29/29 summary: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

➺ The Little Fox by purpleyoonn

Pairing: eventual polyBTS x hybrid reader Genre: hybrid au! fluff, angst, poly, mentions of abo, slow-burn, eventual smut Parts: 18/18 + Drabbles Summary: Just as you escaped the Little Fox, a bidding house, you find yourself at war with your thoughts, not wanting to go to another shelter. You didn’t expect yourself to find a home anywhere, especially not with the men who found you, and their pack. “The idea of being free was a foreign concept. Being free meant having choices, having opportunities. Being a hybrid meant never being free.”

[KIM NAMJOON]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ On With The Show by Joheunsaram

pairing- retired bassist!Namjoon x lawyer!Reader rating- R genre- rockstar!au, s2f2l, fluff, smut, angst, slight slow burn, single dad!au word count- 33.9k summary: Eight years after announcing their retirement, Dark & Wild seems to have been left behind. For Namjoon, he could never forget the time his dreams became a reality, and he's determined to retake the charts by storm once again. Struggling with raising a teenage daughter, the loss of his wife and poor writing projects with terrible bands, he’s now had enough. So with a little help from the only remaining active fan site, he embarks on a mission to convince his bandmates that a comeback might not be the mid life crisis they think it is.

➺ Breaking The Ice by raplinesmoon

pairing: hockey player! namjoon x f. reader genre/au: ice hockey au, college au, roommates au / smut, fluff, slow burn rating: explicit/18+ summary: after last season, namjoon knows he can’t afford anymore mishaps. when you show up on namjoon’s doorstep looking to share his apartment, he thinks it couldn’t be more perfect. medical school has you even busier than he is, but what happens when what used to be the perfect arrangement turns into a bigger distraction than either of you bargained for? word count: 911 {I couldn't really find the complete fic but this teaser can itself be enjoyed as a cute standalone}

➺ Emotions of the Soul by oddinary4bts

☆pairing: Kim Namjoon x artist female reader ☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI) ☆genre: childhood/teenage lovers to strangers to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff ☆word count: 36.3k ☆summary: when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

➺ Autumn Night by sodoyouknowbts

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Genre: Romance, steamy smut Summary: You attend an event to support Namjoon, who is the keynote speaker for the night. You can’t help but feel insecure about the attention and the advances he is receiving from the girls he lectures. You attempt to leave the event early, but he stops you, intent on reminding you exactly what you mean to him.

{SERIES}

➺ To be loved by taevbears

⤑ pairing: Namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ parts: 5/5 ⤑ summary: Here's where she meets prince charming.

[KIM SEOKJIN]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Forever by oddinary4bts

☆pairing: Kim Seokjin x female reader ☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI) ☆genre: ex-fiancés to lovers, idol!au, angst, smut, fluff ☆word count: 25.2k ☆summary: three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again?

➺ Very Familiar by Champagneher

pairing: kim seokjin x reader based on: being jin's girlfriend brings good moments with the members as well. genre: established relationship, fluff, jin and reader acting like a married couple, low-key they're already married. warnings: just fluff.

➺ Already Mine by i-am-baechu

Pairing: Dad! Seokjin x Mom! Reader Genre: Lovers to strangers!, strangers to lovers!, office worker! Seokjin, stay at home mom! reader, established relationship, fluff, angst, and smut Summary: “I do.” Two simple words that changed her whole world. The man that gave her love that she never had before and a child that looked just like him with her eyes, a story for the ages. It wasn’t until the mornings changed and the warmth he once had turned cold. Nothing made sense but at the same time everything did. All she wanted was him but maybe that's not what he wants...

➺ Fools by namfinessed

pairing: seokjin x reader genre: angst, fluff, strangers to lovers wordcount: 6.7k summary: only fools fall for you. (fools!universe)

➺ In you, I lay by namfinessed

pairing: Seokjin x reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers wordcount: 7.8k summary: one night was all you needed to come back to him or a story in which love grows where seokjin goes, and you can’t help but follow.

[MIN YOONGI]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Roll & Dice {M} by lostberet

Synopsis: Your parents never approved of your boyfriend. Your dad loves his car, your boyfriend loves to win, and you love to celebrate his victories. Genre: smut racer boyfriend!yoongi, established relationship, racer au, inspired by fast and furious kinda, ODETARI inspired, slight age gap (reader is 19, yoongi is 22).

➺ Dad!Yoongi Scenario by sevenforeverbulletproof-deactiv

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life Summary: His son calls to tell him you've got a fever

➺ fxck a fxckboy [M] by yoongifis

; pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi ; genre: smut (18+), pwp, jealous yoongi ; wc: 11k+ ; summary: where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

➺ What's Up, Doc? by untaemedqueen

Pairing: Idol! Yoongi x Veterinarian! Reader WordCount: 9.8k Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff Synopsis: "Yoongi (11:49) - Too many to list, maybe I should tell you them in person. Doc (11:56) - Some would say that it’s a bit late but I’m more of a night person. Gwanmunsijang-5-gil."

{SERIES}

➺ bbydaddy!yoongi by muniimyg

Pairing: Yoongi x fem! reader Genre: accidental pregnancy au, fluff, nsfw Parts: 20/20

➺ Enigma by neonlights92

Pairing: Mafia! Yoongi x Reader Genre: Arranged Marriage au, Mafia Au, Angst, Fluff Parts: 6/6 Synopsis: After the death of your father leaves you in a lot of a debt to Bangtan - Seoul’s most nefarious crime syndicate - you are offered a way out: marry Min Yoongi - Bangtan’s most elusive member- and produce him an heir and your father’s debt will be forgotten. Without a choice, you are soon tied to a man who you are absolutely terrified of. But you cannot ignore the part of you that is thrilled by Yoongi. And what scares you the most isn’t the blood on his hands, or the gun he always carries in his pocket. It’s the things he’s capable of doing to your heart.

[JUNG HOSEOK]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Coffee [M] by untaemedqueen

Pairing: Idol! Hoseok x Stylist! Reader WordCount: 7.8k Genre: Fluff, Smut Synopsis: "It's about how a cup of coffee can change someone's life. How someone can find their home in a person."

➺ Step Back by Champagneher

PAIRING | f!reader x idol!hoseok BASED ON | How dare she come back and try to steal your man? GENRE | established relationship, fluff WARNINGS | Jealousy, swear words.

➺ Defining Heaven by akinnie75

Pairing: J-hope x Reader Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn, Romance, Angst Word Count: 24k Summary: “If I try to fly, will I make it to heaven, or will I fall straight down? But what exactly is heaven?” It’s a question that’s been in Hoseok’s mind a lot after cutting ties with his parents and ending his relationship with his ex-girlfriend. Dreaming is his fear, but you tell him that it’s not as scary as he thinks it is. Even in the depths of his own despair, you reach your hand out, but will he take it?

{SERIES}

➺ Charred by neonlights92

Pairing: Mafia! Hoseok x Reader Genre: Arranged Marriage au, Mafia Au, Angst, Fluff, Smut Parts: 7/7 Synopsis: Jung Hoseok never thought he would find love. So when his wife - the woman he has somehow fallen madly in love with - leaves him for somebody else he is heartbroken. Of course, Bangtan waits for no one. Soon Hoseok is roped into yet another marriage, and this time he’s determined to keep himself safe. When the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with runs away with Jung Hoseok’s wife, you find yourself suddenly tied to a man you think is a monster. But beneath the darkness in Hoseok’s eyes is a warmth you can’t help but yearn for. Perhaps love truly does work in mysterious ways.

➺ Where Do Broken Hearts Go? by back2bluesidex

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. Theme: Angst, drama, eventual smut, fluff. Parts: 7/7 + drabbles Warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of cheating, broken relationship, reader is suffering so bad, pining, more will be added to each part. Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

➺ College social media Au by notevenagoodgirl

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Roommates Au Parts: 80/80 Summary: An AU where Hoseok and Y/N don’t really get along even though they’re in the same group of friends. What happens when shitty roommates and monthly bills bring them closer than ever?

[PARK JIMIN]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Important Ass-et [M] by lavienjin

pairing: CEO! Jimin x employee! reader word count: 8,489 genre/au: office romance au, coworkers to lovers (?) | smut Summary: You've been tasked with a very important job that you absolutely can't fuck up. After a long day at work, you're at your wit's end, and who better to end the evening with than your boss?

➺ Flirt Buddies by jimilter

pairing: jimin x reader wc: 1.4k genre: humor | fluff | frenemies(?) to lovers!au | college!au summary: A mean girl pestering you is what it takes for you and Jimin to move further with the flirting going on between you two for months now. Who would’ve thunk?

➺ Call and Response by youtifulhobi

➴ Pairing: EMT/paramedic! Jimin x doctor! reader ➴ WC: 4.1k ➴ Warnings: minor character death, grieving, crying ➴ Genre: e2l, angst, fluff, coworkers, hospitals, h/c, mutual pining that both YN and Jimin refuse to acknowledge but show in petty arguments ➴ Summary: Park Jimin is the bane of your existence, but also the receiver of your begrudging respect. He’s the one you love to hate, except…maybe he’s not as bad as you thought. Maybe.

➺ The Trials and Tribulations of a Mcflurry by btsmosphere

~pairing: jimin x reader ~word count: 1.9k ~genre: devil!jimin, established relationship, crack ~summary: hell is great, but what does a girl have to do to get a mcflurry around here?

➺ Brand New Eyes [M] by missgeniality

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader ➺ Trope: Idol!AU, Established Relationship ➺ Genre: Smut ➺ Word Count: 1.8k ➺ Summary: Jimin's eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

➺ Snow Don't Tell by stutterfly

❄ Word Count: 27.2k ❄ Pairing: Jimin x Reader ❄ Genre: Neighbors AU / Friends to Lovers / Fluff / Smut / Humor ❄ Granny Park’s Gossip: Jimin is the sweetest boy around, no comparison. Always ready to listen to my stories, visits me regularly, and tells me all sorts of tales about those friends of his. Might as well adopt them all, I know so much about them! Jiminie’s the best grandson anyone could ask for, really, a little angel and his little gang of friends is quite the hoot. He’s been a little quiet about himself lately, though. Kept going on and on about that neighbor of his, how cute she always looks, and how he likes to help her with her groceries, but I think maybe I teased him just a little too much about that crush of his. Maybe he’ll figure out a way to get closer to her this holiday season, because who knows how much longer he’ll pine over the girl if he doesn’t.

[KIM TAEHYUNG]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Lock Down [M] by untaemedqueen

Pairing: Idol!Taehyung x Reader WordCount: 6.6k Genre: Fluff, Smut Summary: A fluffy and smutty oneshot in which Tae accidentally finds out you like him and then goes out of his way to make your life impossible (brushing up against you, lip bites, etc) until he knows you have no resistance left.

➺ Marshmallows and Report Cards [M] by untaemedqueen

Pairing: Single Dad!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader WordCount: 7.6k Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Fluff, Smut Synopsis: "Peppermint or marshmallows?" He questions as he reaches the back of the room. "Marshmallows." You tell him before bowing your head. "A woman after my own heart. Y/N, take care." He goes to bow his head before being tugged out of the room by his daughter.

➺ Seventeenth Century Girls by untaemedqueen

Pairing: Single Dad!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader WordCount: 1 k Genre: Fluff, Crack, Drabble Synopsis: “Why is your mother like a seventeenth-century feminist icon and I’m like an English chef that yells at people? Because I own a restaurant?!” Based In The World of: Marshmallows and Report Cards

➺ Get You The Moon [M] by bymoonchild

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, football!AU, jock!Taehyung x student reporter! OC Word count | 19.6k Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks, and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

➺ Unbreakable by smoljimjim

>Pairing: Taehyung x OC named Siri, lovers-exes-lovers >Genre: angst, small fluff, happy ending >Word count: ~16,300 >Description: Taehyung and Siri were the perfect couple and had the perfect relationship. They were known as the 'unbreakable' couple. That was until Taehyung found out something about Siri he couldn't ignore. He thought he knew everything about her, but this... this one thing was a relationship deal breaker.

{SERIES}

➺ Monster by neonlights92

Pairing: Mafia! Taehyung x Reader Genre: Arranged Marriage au, Mafia Au, Angst, Fluff Parts: 6/6 Synopsis: You live in a world dominated by monsters. Monsters who make it their life’s work to control everything around them. When you’re forced to marry Kim Taehyung - the indecipherable son of the leader of Bangtan, Seoul’s most feared gang - you are at first afraid of him. But as you learn what it means to be Taehyung’s wife you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him.

[JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Peregrination by untaemedqueen

Pairing: jungkook x reader ft. ot6 Genre: friends to lovers, angst, fluff Revelation (n.) - a surprising and previously unknown fact, especially one that is made known dramatically. {I'm not sure how to explain this, but after reading this chapter, I discovered that "Peregrination" is a series. I tried looking for the entire series to read it in full, but I couldn't find it anywhere. Even though it’s a series, this chapter can still be enjoyed as a standalone one-shot.}

➺ The Second by untaemedqueen

Pairing: husband! Jungkook x wife! reader Genre: pregnancy au, angst, fluff Synopsis: Jungkook and the reader are becoming parents for the second time however they're both scared because their first child was a preemie!. An argument erupts when the reader reveals her pregnancy, and Jungkook yells at her for the first time, expressing his fear for her safety. However, when he hears her crying, he instantly regrets his outburst.

➺ Interruption [M] by untaemedqueen

Pairing: Husband!Jeongguk x Pregnant Wife!Reader Genre: fluff, smut Synopsis: Jeongguk is dying to have sex with his wife while she's pregnant but his son keeps getting in the way. Based in the world of: The Second

{SERIES}

➺ bbydaddy!jk by muniimyg

Pairing: jungkook x fem! reader Genre: exes au, fluff, nsfw Parts: 30/30 + drabbles

➺ Angel in the Darkness [M] by icyhobi

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically) Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au Word Count: 5,468 Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

➺ Brown-eyed Baby by jeonstudios

synopsis: a lost child at the mall. eyes from a different time. pairing: single dad!jk x reader genre: exes 2 (friends 2) lovers, smut, angst, fluff. word count: 11.4k parts: 2/2

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spookyserenades · 5 months ago

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Sanctity Masterlist

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

The world revolves around powerful, deadly creatures, their every whim catered to– vampires. Humans with rare blood types are kept in large Sanctuaries around the world, where they can be hand-picked by vampires and their covens to become live-in blood banks. Y/N, who had been trapped in a Sanctuary for ten years thanks to her ultra-rare blood type, is acutely aware of just how vicious vampires are. Though she wishes for freedom she once had when she was fifteen, if it came at the cost of being at the mercy of terrifying beings, she would remain within the halls of the Sanctuary forever.

Covens as large as seven individual vampires are exceedingly hard to come by, especially an all-male coven. Brought together by their skewed views of reality, twisted minds, strong powers and connections, and blood-soaked pasts, seven vampires move to a new city in search of their perfect human to feed from. Though the town of Newport, Rhode Island, is sleepy, it holds a secret past, one that’s perfect to set the stage for a complicated, dark future. With a particular taste for the rarest types of blood, the coven discovers an acolyte with irresistible pull in a nearby Sanctuary– and they can’t wait to see what she can endure.

TO JOIN THE TAGLIST PLEASE CLICK HERE!

Ko-fi 💜

MAIN STORY;

Find Sanctity on Ao3 and Wattpad, too!

Chapter One posted 10.3.24; 22.8k words

Chapter Two posted 1.20.25; 20.3k words

CHAPTER TEASERS;

Teasers for Chapter One

Teaser for Chapter Two

DRABBLES;

coming soon! requests via ask box

EXTRAS;

Sanctity Playlist

Moodboards - Seokjin . Yoongi . Hoseok . Namjoon . Jimin . Taehyung . Jeongguk

My Pinterest

Rough character profiles

Tour of the setting

PREQUELS;

Marauder Hoseok, coming soon!

Chiaroscuro Yoongi, coming soon!

Gilded Taehyung, coming soon!

Devotion Jimin, coming soon!

Taeja Seokjin, coming soon!

Scarface Jeongguk,coming soon!

Hwando Namjoon, coming soon!

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kittyscupcakeandbunny · 6 months ago

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My BFF is a Vampire

18+

BLOOD SUCKERS

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, described sex scenes, death, consumption of alcohol and blood, threesome, male and male intercourse, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, wax play, blood play, and more.

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, angst, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

Intro;

I knew something was wrong in the small city I’ve been living ever since I was born here and after I graduated from high school I was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the whole year this small hell of a city called Spring Villa always rained every day.

Every god damn day.

Not that i was complaining, one summer during a high school trip to California was enough for me to realize hot weather was not for me. One day to be more specific, it was my first time and everything seemed so more alive and colorful. But all come to an end since i had to spend the rest of the trip at the hospital with an IV inside my arm due to being exposed to the sun for too long, just one afternoon which was the same as everyone else did but i was the only one who almost died that day for burning on the sun and end up looking like a hot Cheeto. After that i even started to enjoy the cold humid air hitting my face every day when i left to work, the only thing it didn’t change was my hatred for the rain every morning. Getting wet before work was not very enjoyable, everyone could agree on that note.

But the beautiful weather of the city was not the most uncanny thing about it, it has been almost ten years since a serial killer was circling around the Spring Villa. I was only a teen when everything became known to everyone in the city that something wasn’t right, so many bodies were found around Spring Villa along the years people began to stay at home locked away from everything. Some left the city for once and never came back, those who stayed were people who had nowhere else to go, like me.

My father was terrified of the accidents involving the serial killer in town and he too left before anyone else, leaving me and my mother behind. I couldn’t blame him especially after my brother ended up becoming one of the victims, when the police officer called for my parents to identify the body it didn’t felt real to me. I was not allowed to go since at the time i was underage but, I didn’t even got a chance to say goodbye either. My parents didn’t do a funeral for him, it was all too much to bear so instead he was cremated and thrown on a river on the west side of Spring Villa his favorite place to hide with his friends. Ever since that happened my parents have not been the same, I knew that sooner or later this was bound to happen. When father left it was the last straw of sanity of my mother, she became an alcoholic and well… not good.

I’ve been working at the Spring Grill ever since I graduated high school, apart from so many people leaving the city many others came from cities around the town to get a bit of incloser about the serial killer of Spring Villa, he was never caught and that mystery seemed to amaze many tourists around town.

People from all over came to my stupid silly little city to make videos about the killer of my brother, at first I was so angry at them I wished they just didn’t came at all but, over the years it became dull and empty inside my heart. I had more to worry about then that and since I needed money to pay the rent I was more then happy so many tourist came to Spring Villa.

After all I meet my best friend like that.

Notes: Hello readers! Here’s a new story for all of you I truly hope you guys enjoy this work as much as you all been enjoying my old works. This story has been going around my mind a lot and I thought what better time to write then now? So here it is! Taglist is open so leave your request in the comments and I’ll add you! Love all of you, Author. 🩵

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tatumrileyslover · 13 days ago

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𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔬𝔪

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: vampire!AU, victorian!AU, strangers to lovers, slow burn, forbitten forbidden love, eventual light smut, angst, gothic,

Warnings: blood, death, smut, manipulation, possessive behavior, mild violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, gaslighting.

Word count: 30k

a/n: ok so this isn’t meant to be in two parts I just hit the tumblr limit so this is the first part. this was originally supposed to be out for Halloween but god did I get too into it and made it more than double the length I want it to be lol. anyway this is based of the gothic novel Carmilla.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬

The house sat like a slumbering beast against the autumn sky, its grey stone walls rising from mist-shrouded gardens that had long since forgotten their original design. What was once carefully manicured grandeur had softened over decades into something wilder, though no less beautiful - roses climbed beyond their trellises to embrace weathered statues, and ancient trees stretched their branches toward leaded glass windows that caught the dying light like caught tears.

It was the last great house for fifty miles in any direction, a fact that both the local townspeople and its inhabitants were acutely aware of. While other noble families had slowly surrendered to changing fortunes, selling their lands and titles piece by piece, the family had endured it all. Their walls remained strong, their cellars remained stocked, and their daughter remained safely tucked away behind iron gates and stone walls.

(Y/n) stood at her bedroom window, watching the road that wound through the valley like a black ribbon. Soon it would bring Bertha, her dear friend from the finishing school in Graz. The thought brought a smile to her face as she pressed her fingertips to the cool glass. Three years had passed since they'd last seen each other, maintaining their friendship through letters that grew increasingly infrequent as distance and time worked their inevitable magic. But now, finally, Bertha would be here - bringing with her stories of balls and suitors and all the life that seemed to exist everywhere except within these walls.

A rap at the door drew her attention. "Come in, Papa."

Her father entered, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the candlelight. Though still handsome, years of solitude had etched themselves into the corners of his eyes and mouth. Since her mother's death twelve years ago, he had devoted himself to his studies and his daughter in equal measure, though the former often seemed to win out over the latter.

"Still watching the road, my dear? It will not make her arrive any faster."

"I know, Papa." (Y/n) turned from the window, her skirts rustling against the thick carpet. At nineteen, she possessed the kind of beauty that came from never knowing hardship - skin untouched by sun, hands that had never known labor, eyes that still held the bright curiosity of childhood. "But I cannot help it. The house feels different already, knowing she's coming. Less..."

"Less what, my dear?"

"Less like a cage," she said softly, then immediately regretted her words at the shadow that crossed her father's face. "Forgive me, Papa. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know everything you do is for my protection."

He crossed to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You are all I have left in this world, (Y/n). Your mother..." He paused, as he always did when speaking of her mother. "She made me promise to keep you safe. The world beyond these walls grows more dangerous with each passing year."

(Y/n) nodded dutifully, though her heart ached. She knew every inch of this house, from the wine cellars with their dusty bottles to the attic where her mother's belongings still sat in trunks, untouched since the day she died. She knew which floorboards creaked, which windows caught the morning light, which corners held shadows even at midday. The servants were kind but distant, treating her with the careful reverence one might show a precious object in a museum.

Her world was contained within these walls, and while she could not truly miss what she had never known, sometimes she felt like a character in one of her beloved novels - the imprisoned princess waiting for life to begin. Her only real glimpses of the outside world came from her books, filled with adventures and romance, and from her occasional trips into town with her father for Sunday services.

Even those brief excursions felt like stepping into another world. The townspeople would stare and whisper behind their hands - not unkindly, but with the sort of fascination reserved for rare creatures. The family's wealth and isolation had bred countless rumors over the years, though none came close to the simple truth: they were just lonely, the three of them. Father, daughter, and the great house that held them both.

From her bedroom window, (Y/n) watched the winding road that cut through the valley below their estate. Even at this early hour, she could make out the occasional carriage making its way through the autumn mist. Each distant movement caught her eye, her heart quickening before inevitably sinking as they passed the turn that would bring them up towards the Manor.

"Mademoiselle, you're fidgeting again," Madame Perrodon's gentle reproach came accompanied by a firmer stroke of the hairbrush. "How can I be expected to tame these waves if you cannot sit still?"

"I apologize, Madame." (Y/n) forced herself to be still, though her eyes remained fixed on the distant road. It had been three years since she'd last seen Bertha - three years of letters describing balls and suitors and a world so different from (Y/n)'s carefully contained existence. She could still remember their last afternoon together, huddled in this very window seat, Bertha's eyes bright with excitement about the finishing school that awaited her in Graz.

"Your mother's roses are particularly beautiful this autumn," Madame Perrodon commented, her fingers working deftly to pin (Y/n)'s soft hair into an acceptable style. "Though Marcel lets them grow wild as wolves these days."

The mention of her mother drew (Y/n)'s attention to the familiar portrait hanging opposite her dressing table. The smile seemed to hold secrets, her hands painted delicately among the same roses that now grew unchecked below. Sometimes, in certain lights, (Y/n) thought she could see herself in that smile, though her own felt considerably more practiced.

Through the open door came the excited whispers of maids passing in the hallway. "The kitchen's been baking since dawn..." "All the best linens..." "Miss Rheinfeldt's room is prepared..."

On any other Sunday, they would be preparing for their weekly journey into town for services. (Y/n) felt a twinge of disappointment - she would miss her brief exchanges with Catherine and Marie, the milliner's daughters. Their whispered conversations about books and fashion during the fellowship hour were one of her few connections to girls her own age, even if her father and Madame Perrodon watched these interactions with careful eyes.

"There," Madame declared, securing the final pin. "Now you look-"

But (Y/n) had already risen, drawn to her window by the sound of wheels on gravel. Below, she could see Marcel and Emma in the gardens, their heads turning toward the sound as well. How she envied their easy companionship, the way Emma could freely kneel in the dirt beside her grandfather, learning the secrets of the gardens that had once been her mother's pride. On warmer days, (Y/n) would often sit on the stone bench nearby, watching them work while pretending to read. Marcel would share stories of her mother's passion for the roses, how she would spend hours tending them herself despite her station.

The old house creaked and sighed its morning song around her, floorboards protesting beneath thick carpets as (Y/n) made her way down the grand staircase. Carved angels watched her descent from the bannister, their wooden faces worn smooth by generations of trailing hands. Her mother had once told her they were guardians, keeping watch over the family. Now their blank eyes seemed to follow her, as if they knew something she didn't.

The morning light filtered through tall windows, catching dust motes that danced in the air. Preparations for Bertha's arrival had stirred up the house's usual stillness. Somewhere below, she could hear Mrs. Klaus, the housekeeper, directing maids about the proper arrangement of fresh flowers. The scent of baking bread and autumn spices wafted up from the kitchen - Bertha had always loved Cook's cinnamon cakes.

Memories of their last visit together surfaced as (Y/n) paused on the landing. They had been sixteen then, sharing secrets in the library's window seat while rain drummed against the glass. Bertha, already worldlier despite their same age, had whispered about a young man she'd danced with at her cousin's wedding. (Y/n) had listened, enraptured, trying to imagine what it would feel like to waltz in someone's arms.

The great hall below bustled with unusual activity. Curtains had been drawn back fully, allowing autumn light to illuminate the family portraits that lined the walls. Generations of ancestors stared down at her, their painted eyes holding the same careful reserve she saw in her father's. Her mother's portrait was different though - hung separately near the library doors, captured in the garden she'd loved so dearly. Sometimes (Y/n) would catch her father standing before it, lost in thoughts he never shared.

The morning air had turned peculiar as (Y/n) stepped out onto the terrace. What had started as a bright autumn day now held an odd heaviness, as if the sky itself were holding its breath. The roses swayed in a wind that carried the first real bite of winter, their late blooms scattering crimson petals across the gravel paths.

Marcel and Emma were working near her mother's favorite fountain, their quiet conversation carrying across the garden. The old gardener looked up as she passed, touching his cap with soil-stained fingers.

"The weather's turning, Miss," he called, his weathered face creasing with concern. "Best not stay out too long."

But (Y/n) was already moving toward her favorite spot - the ancient oak that stood sentinel by the pond. Its branches spread like protective arms above the water, creating a private world beneath its canopy. Here, she had spent countless hours reading, dreaming, watching the play of light on water. Here, she and Bertha had shared their last goodbye, promising to write every week.

The oak's massive roots created a natural seat, worn smooth by years of use. Settling herself against the trunk, (Y/n) opened her book but found herself watching the drive instead. The mist had thickened rather than burning off, unusual for this time of day. It crept up from the valley like something alive, wreathing the gardens in white tendrils that seemed to reach for her with ghostly fingers.

The mist continued to thicken, unusual for this time of day, creeping up from the valley like something alive. A chill wind rustled through the oak's branches, sending leaves spiraling down to dot the pond's surface. Each ripple distorted (Y/n)'s reflection, making her appear and disappear like a ghost in the darkening water.

"Please hurry, Bertha," she whispered, pulling her shawl tighter. The weather seemed determined to spoil their reunion. Already the bright autumn morning had given way to something more ominous - clouds gathering above the estate like mourners, the air heavy with unshed rain. If the Rheinfeldts didn't arrive soon, they risked traveling these winding roads in a storm.

The sound of approaching hooves cut through her thoughts. (Y/n) straightened, heart leaping - but no, this was a single rider, not the Rheinfeldts' carriage. Through gaps in the mist, she could make out a figure in a dark coat, riding with the urgent purpose of a messenger rather than a social caller.

From their position near the roses, Marcel and Emma paused in their work to watch the rider's approach. A servant hurried out to meet him, and even at this distance, something in their exchange made (Y/n)'s stomach tighten. The messenger's stance, the careful way the servant accepted what appeared to be a letter...

"That doesn't bode well, does it?" Emma's voice carried softly across the garden.

"Hush, girl," Marcel replied, but his tone held worry rather than rebuke.

(Y/n) turned back to the pond, forcing herself to dismiss their concerns. Perhaps it was simply business for her father - he often received correspondence from his associates in Vienna. The water's surface had grown as dark as steel, reflecting the gathering clouds. A few fat drops of rain began to fall, creating perfect circles that spread and disappeared.

Footsteps on the gravel path made her look up. Her father approached slowly, his usual brisk stride replaced by something heavier, more measured. Without speaking, he lowered himself to sit beside her on the oak's roots - an intimacy so unusual that (Y/n) felt her breath catch.

"Papa?" Her voice sounded very young suddenly, even to her own ears.

He didn't speak immediately, his hands working at something in his lap. When he finally turned to her, she saw he held a letter. The broken seal bore the Rheinfeldt family crest.

"My dearest," he began, his voice gentle in a way that made her want to cover her ears. "I have news about Bertha."

With trembling fingers, (Y/n) accepted the letter. The paper was fine, expensive - the kind Bertha's father always used for his correspondence. But as she unfolded it, the familiar letterhead seemed somehow more formal, more foreboding:

From Baron Rheinfeldt

Castle Rheinfeldt

October 15th, 1872

My Dear Friend,

It is with the heaviest of hearts that I must write to you, bearing news that has shattered our household and will, I fear, bring great sorrow to your own - particularly to your dear (Y/n), whose friendship meant so much to my beloved Bertha.

I know you were expecting us within the week, and I cannot express the pain it causes me to instead send this letter. My darling daughter, my only child, has been taken from us in circumstances so peculiar and distressing that I can scarcely put them to paper. Yet you must know, if only to spare your household the anxiety of waiting for an arrival that can never come.

Three weeks ago, Bertha began to speak of strange dreams. She would wake in the night, claiming visitations from a dark figure that left her weak and frightened. We dismissed these as mere fancies at first - you know how imaginative she could be. But soon she grew pale and listless, her strength declining day by day. The local physician could find no cause for her malady, though she complained of a sharp pain in her breast and a gradual suffocation that seemed to worsen as each night fell.

Two nights ago, she woke screaming that the figure was in her room, but when we rushed to her aid, nothing was amiss. By morning, she could barely speak, her pulse so faint as to be almost imperceptible. Before the sun set that day, my beautiful child, my darling Bertha, had left this world.

The doctors speak of a mysterious illness, but can offer no true explanation for how a young woman in the bloom of health could decline so rapidly. I write this not only to explain our absence but to warn you - there have been other cases in our region of young women suffering similar fates. Perhaps it is some fever that has yet to be understood by medical science.

Please convey my deepest apologies to (Y/n). I know she and Bertha had been planning this reunion with great excitement. The thought of their joy makes this tragedy all the more bitter to bear.

Your friend in profound grief,

Baron Frederick Rheinfeldt

The letter trembled in (Y/n)'s hands, its meaning somehow both clear and incomprehensible. She read it again, then a third time, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less final.

"But," she said finally, her voice small, "we've prepared her room. Cook made cinnamon cakes."

Her father's hand found her shoulder, squeezing gently. The gesture only made everything feel more wrong.

"The roses," she continued, the words spilling out like water. "They're beautiful right now - Bertha always loved them in autumn. She said they looked like sunset caught in flowers. We were going to press them in books, like we used to. I saved that collection of poetry she wrote about in her last letter - the one with the blue binding she described. It's on her bedside table, waiting..."

Tears came then, not in great heaving sobs, but in silent streams that seemed to surprise her. She touched her cheek, looking at the moisture on her fingers as if she couldn't quite understand where it had come from.

"She can't be..." (Y/n) smoothed the letter in her lap, focusing on removing every crease. "We were going to show her the new kittens in the stable. She doesn't even know about them yet. And her room - we put fresh lavender in all the drawers, just as she likes. The blue guest room, Papa. Her favorite. Madame Perrodon helped me arrange dried flowers just as she described seeing at that ball in Vienna..."

The afternoon light had begun to fade, the mist curling thicker around the garden's edges. Her father shifted uncomfortably on the oak's roots beside her.

"My dear, perhaps we should-"

"And the piano," (Y/n) interrupted, her voice taking on a peculiar, singsong quality. "We've had it tuned specially. That new piece she mentioned - the Mozart sonata. I've been practicing it for weeks so we could play it together. She was so excited about showing me how her technique has improved since finishing school. She said..." Her voice cracked. "She said we would play it for you, after dinner on her first night here."

A cool wind rustled through the oak's branches, sending dead leaves spiraling down to dot the pond's surface. Each ripple distorted (Y/n)'s reflection, making her appear and disappear like a ghost in the darkening water.

"(Y/n)." Her father's voice was gentle but insistent. "The weather is turning. We should return to the house."

But she shook her head, clutching the letter tighter. "Just a little longer. She might still... There could be a mistake. Baron Rheinfeldt is older now, he could have become confused. If we just wait..."

The hours crept by, marked only by the gradual darkening of the sky and the periodic attempts of servants to coax them inside. First Marcel, pausing in his work to suggest rain was coming. Then Emma, sent by Cook with a tray of tea that grew cold, untouched. Finally Madame Perrodon herself, wringing her hands in distress at the sight of her charge sitting so still in the growing dark.

"Mademoiselle, please. You'll catch your death."

"You see?" (Y/n) seized on the common phrase with desperate hope. "People say that - 'catch your death.' But they don't really die. It's just something people say."

The sun had long since disappeared behind heavy clouds, the mist thickening into true darkness. One by one, lights began to appear in the house windows, warm squares of yellow that seemed to emphasize the gathering gloom in the garden. The pond's surface had grown as dark as steel, reflecting nothing now but the occasional ripple of rain drops.

Her father had remained beside her throughout, his silence both a comfort and a terrible confirmation. Now he stirred again, his joints surely aching from sitting so long on the hard roots.

"My dearest," he began, but stopped at the sound of distant carriage wheels on the road below.

(Y/n)'s head snapped up, hope flaring painfully in her chest. Through the mist, she could make out the bobbing lights of carriage lanterns, weaving their way up the treacherous road that led to their estate.

"You see?" she whispered. "You see? I knew if we just waited-"

The crash, when it came, was distant but unmistakable - the splintering of wood and the high, terrible scream of frightened horses cutting through the night air. The lantern lights jerked violently, then disappeared altogether.

Father and daughter sat frozen, straining to hear through the darkness. The silence that followed seemed to stretch eternally, broken only by the soft patter of rain on leaves.

"Papa?" (Y/n)'s voice had lost its childish insistence, fear creeping in at last.

(Y/n) was moving before her mind could catch up with her legs, her skirts gathered in trembling hands as she rushed toward the road. Behind her, she could hear her father's voice calling out, "(Y/n)! Wait!" but the sound seemed distant, unimportant.

The path down to the road was treacherous in daylight; in the gathering dark it was nearly impossible. Her boots slipped on wet leaves, branches caught at her hair and dress like grasping fingers. The mist had settled thick between the ancient trees, turning familiar paths into something alien and forbidding. Behind her, she could hear the gathering sounds of pursuit - servants calling out, the bounce of lantern light, her father's increasingly urgent voice.

It wasn't until she reached the road itself that doubt began to creep in. The fog here was even thicker, seeming to swallow the weak moonlight whole. The trees pressed close on either side, their branches forming a dark canopy overhead that blocked what little light remained. Every sound seemed muffled, wrong - as if the fog itself was drinking them in.

"Miss (Y/n)!" Marcel's voice, accompanied by approaching lantern light. "Please wait for us!"

She paused then, her heart pounding, suddenly aware of how far she'd run and how dark it had grown. The crash had sounded closer. Or had her fear made her imagine that?

Her father caught up to her first, slightly out of breath. "Reckless girl," he muttered, but there was relief rather than anger in his voice. Behind him came Marcel and two other servants with lanterns, their light creating strange, shifting shadows among the trees.

A horse's frightened whinny cut through the fog, much closer now. (Y/n) moved forward more cautiously, her father's hand firm on her arm. The lantern light caught something metallic ahead - the gleam of an overturned carriage wheel, still spinning slowly.

As they drew closer, the scene emerged from the fog like a painting being unveiled. The carriage lay on its side, one wheel completely shattered. The horses, still partially harnessed, stamped and snorted nervously, their breath visible in the cold air. This was not the Rheinfeldts' familiar family carriage - this was something altogether grander and stranger, its black lacquered surface gleaming wet in the lantern light, its gilt trim suggesting foreign wealth.

"Hello?" her father called out. "Is anyone hurt?"

A movement near the carriage door drew their attention. A woman's voice, low and melodious, called back in accented French. "Ah, thank heaven. We've had quite the accident, as you can see."

The door, now facing skyward, opened with some effort. A figure emerged - a woman, elegant even in disarray, her dark traveling clothes of the finest quality. There was something striking about her face, though (Y/n) found she couldn't quite focus on its details in the shifting light.

"Allow me to assist you, Madame," her father stepped forward, helping the woman climb down from the tilted carriage. Marcel and the other servants moved to steady her descent.

"You are most kind," the woman said, switching to perfect if accented English. "We were on our way to visit friends in the next county when our driver took ill suddenly. The fog..." she gestured eloquently at their surroundings. "The road proved more treacherous than expected."

"Your driver - is he-?" her father began.

"Gone, I'm afraid. Fled into the woods in some sort of fit. But my greater concern is my son." Here she turned back to the carriage, genuine distress entering her voice. "He was thrown rather badly when we overturned. I haven't been able to wake him."

"Several of my men might assist in extracting him, Madame," her father offered, already gesturing to the servants.

The elegant woman nodded, stepping aside with a grace that seemed out of place in their dire circumstances. The lantern light caught her features strangely - one moment sharp as cut glass, the next oddly indistinct, like a painting seen through water.

Marcel and Thomas, one of the stronger footmen, approached the carriage carefully. The fog seemed to curl around their feet as they worked, making their movements appear dreamlike and sluggish. From within the dark interior came the sound of shifting fabric, a soft groan.

"Gentle, if you please," the woman called out, though her tone held more courtesy than real concern. "He is all I have in this world."

The words were right, (Y/n) thought, but something in their delivery rang false, like an actress reciting well-rehearsed lines. She found herself watching the woman's face, trying to fix its details in her mind, but each time she looked away, the memory of those features seemed to slip like water through her fingers.

"Carefully now," her father directed as the servants began to lift their unconscious charge. The lantern light swept across the scene, and (Y/n) felt her breath catch in her throat.

The young man they carried was beauty made flesh - there was no other way to describe him. His face, unconscious and unguarded, held a quality that seemed to transcend mere human comeliness. Dark hair fell across his forehead in elegant disarray, and even in the poor light, his skin held a luminous quality, like moonlight on fresh snow. His clothes, though disarranged by the accident, were clearly of the finest quality - black velvet and silk that seemed to drink in the lantern light.

There was something about his face that tugged at (Y/n)'s memory, something tantalizingly familiar that danced just beyond her grasp. She found herself moving forward without conscious thought, drawn by an impulse she couldn't name.

"(Y/n)," her father's warning tone brought her up short. She realized she'd nearly reached out to touch the unconscious stranger's hand.

"He will be well, I think," the woman said, watching (Y/n) with an expression that might have been amusement. "Just stunned by the fall. What fortune that we should crash so near to such a grand house." Her gesture encompassed the manor, barely visible through the fog above them. "I don't suppose..."

"Of course," her father said immediately, nobility's obligations winning out over any hesitation. "We can offer shelter while arrangements are made for your onward journey."

"You are too kind." Again, that perfect courtesy that somehow felt hollow. "I hate to impose further, but I find myself in something of a predicament. I have urgent business that cannot wait - a matter of inheritance that requires my immediate presence. My son, however, is in no condition to travel."

(Y/n) watched in growing amazement as the woman outlined her request with elegant precision. Might her son remain here, under their care, while she attended to these pressing matters? She would, of course, send word within a day or two of her return date. She had friends in the region she'd been traveling to visit - though oddly, she didn't name them - who would vouch for their character.

"I cannot ask you to take on such a responsibility," she said, in a tone that suggested she expected exactly that.

"Nonsense," her father replied, though (Y/n) detected a slight unease in his voice. "We can hardly turn away those in need, especially of our own class. Your son will be well cared for until your return."

"You ease my heart," the woman said, though (Y/n) noticed she hadn't once looked back at her unconscious son since the servants had lifted him. "I can arrange alternate transport from the next town, if one of your men might assist me that far?"

It was all happening so quickly. Even as her father gave instructions for a groom to accompany the mysterious woman, even as Marcel and Thomas began their careful ascent toward the house with their unconscious burden, (Y/n) found herself struggling to understand how smoothly it had all been arranged. It was only when the woman stepped close to bid her farewell that a chill ran down her spine.

"Watch over him for me, dear one," the woman said softly, her fingers brushing (Y/n)’s cheek in a gesture that felt both intimate and alien. This close, her eyes seemed to hold a peculiar depth, like wells that went down forever. "He can be... difficult when he wakes. But I'm sure you'll manage him beautifully."

Then she was gone, disappearing into the fog with their groom, leaving behind only the overturned carriage and her unconscious son - and a lingering sense that something momentous and terrible had just been set in motion.

The house seemed to stir with nervous energy as they made their way back up the path, lanterns bobbing like will-o'-wisps through the fog. Marcel and Thomas carried their unconscious guest with careful precision, while Madame Perrodon hurried ahead to prepare the blue guest room - Bertha's room, (Y/n) thought with a sudden pang that felt almost like betrayal.

The entrance hall's warmth was a shock after the chill fog, the familiar space somehow changed by the evening's events. Servants whispered in corners, stealing glances at the beautiful stranger being carried up the grand staircase. The house itself seemed to hold its breath, ancient wood creaking under strange footsteps.

"The blue room, sir?" Madame Perrodon called down from the landing, her face pinched with concern.

(Y/n) felt her throat tighten. "Papa, not-"

"It is the most suitable guest room," her father said quietly. His hand found her shoulder, squeezing gently. "And it is... available."

The blue room had always been the grandest of their guest chambers. Its walls were painted a soft cornflower blue that caught the morning light beautifully, making the gilt-framed mirrors dance with reflected sunshine. Now, in the flickering candlelight, those same walls seemed almost grey, the mirrors reflecting only shadows as they carried his limp form through the doorway.

The bed was already turned down - prepared that morning for Bertha, (Y/n) remembered with another stab of grief. The very sheets that had been aired with lavender for her friend would now cradle this strange young man. She watched as they laid him carefully on the blue silk counterpane, his dark hair stark against the pale pillows, his face ethereally beautiful in the candlelight.

"Mademoiselle," Madame Perrodon touched her arm. "Perhaps you should retire. It's been a trying day."

But (Y/n) couldn't move, transfixed by the scene before her. Mrs. Klaus had appeared with hot water and cloths, presumably to tend to any injuries. The housekeeper's usually efficient movements seemed hesitant as she approached the bed, as if she too sensed something not quite natural about their mysterious guest.

"He appears unmarked," Mrs. Klaus said finally, her voice holding a note of surprise. "Not a scratch on him, despite the violence of the accident."

"Providence," her father murmured, though he didn't sound entirely convinced.

(Y/n) found her gaze drawn to his face again. In the better light, she could study his features properly - the elegant arch of his brows, the perfect curve of his mouth, the almost translucent quality of his skin. There was something about him that nagged at her memory, like a word trapped on the tip of her tongue.

"Look how peaceful he sleeps," she heard herself say, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. "Like a painting."

"(Y/n)." Her father's tone was sharper now. "To your room. It's not proper for you to..."

He trailed off as the boy stirred slightly, his head turning on the pillow. Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, watching, but he didn't wake. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, and again (Y/n) felt that maddening sense of familiarity.

"Come, mademoiselle." Madame Perrodon's grip on her arm was firmer now. "You've had a shock. First the news about poor Bertha, and now this excitement. You must rest."

The mention of Bertha's name seemed to break whatever spell had held (Y/n) in place. She allowed herself to be led from the room, though she couldn't help glancing back one last time. In the moment before the door closed, she could have sworn she saw his lips curve in the slightest smile.

Sleep proved impossible that night. (Y/n) lay in her bed, listening to the house settle around her with unfamiliar creaks and sighs. Even Madame Perrodon's usual soft breathing from the adjoining room provided little comfort. The events of the day swirled in her mind like autumn leaves caught in a whirlwind - Bertha's letter, the crash, the strange elegant woman, and most persistently, the beautiful unconscious young man now sleeping in what should have been her friend's room.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, hauntingly perfect in the candlelight. That maddening sense of familiarity tugged at her thoughts, like a half-remembered dream. There was something about the curve of his mouth, the arch of his brow...

A floorboard creaked in the hallway - probably just Mrs. Klaus making her nightly rounds, but (Y/n) found herself holding her breath, straining to hear. The blue room was just down the corridor. Was their mysterious guest still sleeping? The woman - his mother, though something about that relationship felt odd - had said he might be 'difficult' when he woke. What had she meant by that?

The wind picked up outside, branches scratching against her window like skeletal fingers. The sound reminded her of the carriage crash, of the fog-shrouded road. How strange that the woman had left so quickly, abandoning her supposedly beloved son to the care of strangers. And where had the driver gone? The more (Y/n) thought about it, the more questions arose.

She must have drifted off eventually, for she found herself in that strange space between sleeping and waking, where reality blurs at the edges. The moonlight through her window seemed to pool like silver water on the floor, and in its glow, she thought she saw a figure standing at the foot of her bed. A beautiful face looking down at her, familiar yet wrong somehow...

(Y/n) jerked awake, her heart pounding. The room was empty, the moonlight now nothing more than pale squares on the carpet. But the sense of a presence lingered, making her skin prickle with unnamed awareness.

"Madame?" she called softly, but only silence answered from the adjoining room.

Sleep proved even more elusive after that. She lay awake until the first grey light of dawn began to creep through her windows, bringing with it the usual morning sounds of the household stirring to life. She could hear servants moving below, their muffled voices carrying up through the floorboards. The smell of breakfast began to wind its way up the stairs - fresh bread and coffee, the normal rhythms of the house attempting to reassert themselves after the previous day's disruption.

A knock at her door made her start. "Mademoiselle?" Madame Perrodon's voice. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, come in."

The French woman entered, already dressed for the day, her face carrying an odd expression. "Your father requests your presence at breakfast. Our... guest still sleeps."

The morning light in the breakfast room seemed too harsh, too ordinary after the strangeness of the night. (Y/n) picked at her toast, aware of the unusual tension around the table. Her father sat at his customary place, the morning paper untouched beside his coffee cup. Even the servants seemed to move differently, their usual efficient routines interrupted by frequent glances toward the ceiling - toward the blue room above.

"Has anyone checked on him?" (Y/n) finally asked, breaking the heavy silence.

"Mrs. Klaus looked in at dawn," her father replied, frowning slightly. "Still sleeping, apparently. Quite deeply."

"It's nearly ten o'clock," Madame Perrodon observed, her usual calm manner betraying a hint of unease. "Should we perhaps summon Dr. Werner?"

"The mother said he would sleep unusually long," her father said, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. "Something about a previous illness making him sensitive to travel."

"Did she?" (Y/n) asked, trying to recall the woman's exact words from the night before. But like so much about their mysterious visitor's mother, the details seemed to slip away when examined too closely.

The breakfast room fell silent again, broken only by the clink of silver against china and the tick of the great clock in the hall. Through the windows, (Y/n) could see Marcel in the gardens, seemingly intent on his work but positioned suspiciously close to the section beneath the blue room's windows.

Hours crept by with excruciating slowness. (Y/n) attempted to focus on her needlework, but found herself counting the chimes of the clock instead. Eleven. Twelve. One...

It was well past two in the afternoon when Mrs. Klaus appeared in the drawing room doorway, her usually unflappable demeanor slightly disturbed. "Sir," she addressed (Y/n)'s father, "The young gentleman is awake. He's asked to pay his respects to the household."

Something in the housekeeper's tone made (Y/n) look up sharply. Mrs. Klaus's face held an odd expression - not quite fear, but something adjacent to it.

"How does he seem?" her father asked, setting aside his book.

"Most..." Mrs. Klaus paused, seeming to search for the right word. "Most elegant, sir. Though perhaps still somewhat affected by his ordeal. He's asked to dress properly before receiving visitors."

"Of course," her father nodded. "We shall receive him here when he's ready."

The next half hour was torture. (Y/n) found herself smoothing her skirts repeatedly, hyper-aware of her reflection in the drawing room mirrors. That nagging sense of familiarity had returned, stronger now that their guest was awake.

When the drawing room door finally opened again, the late afternoon sun had begun to slant through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. In that golden light, their guest appeared like something from a painting - perfectly composed, unnaturally beautiful. His dark clothes were immaculate, showing no sign of the previous night's accident. His face...

(Y/n) felt her breath catch. In the daylight, that sense of recognition was almost overwhelming.

He moved into the room with impossible grace, every gesture deliberate yet fluid, like a dancer marking steps to unheard music. His dark eyes found (Y/n)'s immediately, and something passed between them - recognition, connection, a current of awareness that made her hands tremble in her lap.

"Sir," he addressed her father with a slight bow, his voice musical and deeply cultured. "I must express my profound gratitude for your hospitality. My name is..." Here he paused, almost imperceptibly, "Park. I find myself indebted to your kindness."

"Not at all," her father replied, though (Y/n) noticed he seemed slightly dazzled by their guest's presence. "We could hardly leave you in such circumstances. I am the Baron, and this is my daughter, (Y/n)."

Those dark eyes returned to her face. "Mademoiselle." He took her offered hand, his fingers cool against her skin. "Your beauty rivals the stars in their midnight dance"

(Y/n) felt herself flush, acutely aware of how forward such a comment was - and how, strangely, no one seemed to mind. Even Madame Perrodon, usually so quick to enforce propriety, appeared captivated.

"You must still be recovering from your ordeal," (Y/n) found herself saying. "Please, sit." She gestured to the chair nearest hers, then wondered at her own boldness.

He smiled - a subtle thing that seemed to transform his entire face - and accepted the seat. "You are too kind. Though I confess, the accident itself is somewhat... hazy in my memory."

"Not unusual, given the circumstances," her father said. "Your mother mentioned you'd been unwell recently?"

Again that barely perceptible pause. "Yes, a recurring condition that makes travel... challenging. Which makes your generous offer of shelter all the more appreciated."

"How fortunate that you were so near when the accident occurred," (Y/n) said, then immediately worried it might sound accusatory.

But he only turned that devastating smile on her again. "Fortune indeed. Though I believe some meetings are destined, don't you? Written in the stars, as poets would say."

The way he looked at her as he said it - as if they were sharing a private joke, as if they'd known each other forever - made her heart flutter strangely. That nagging sense of familiarity grew stronger.

"Do you read poetry, Mademoiselle?"

"(Y/n)," she corrected without thinking, then blushed again. "And yes, I'm particularly fond of the Romantics."

"Ah!" His entire face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. "Then we must discuss Byron. 'The Dream' has been much in my thoughts lately." He began to recite softly:

"'Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world,

A boundary between the things misnamed

Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world...'"

His voice seemed to caress each word, giving them new meaning. (Y/n) found herself leaning forward slightly, drawn in by his presence, his passion for the poetry she loved.

Her father cleared his throat, but she noticed his expression had softened. It had been weeks since he'd seen her truly engaged with anyone, she realized. Not since the excitement of planning Bertha's visit...

The thought of Bertha should have brought fresh pain, but somehow it felt distant, unimportant compared to the magnetic presence of their guest.

"Perhaps," her father said carefully, "you might show our guest the library after tea? I understand you share a love of literature."

Tea had been a strangely intimate affair, their guest, displaying impeccable manners while barely touching his cup. Now, as (Y/n) led him through the manor's winding corridors toward the library, she found herself acutely aware of his presence behind her, the way the air seemed to change when he moved.

The library had always been her sanctuary, its floor-to-ceiling shelves creating the impression of a forest made of books. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall windows, catching dust motes that danced like golden snow in the air. She turned to gauge his reaction and found him already watching her, that same knowing smile playing at his lips.

"Your home is remarkable," he said, moving past her to trail his fingers along the spines of nearby books. "These volumes... quite a collection. Your father's?"

"Many were my mother's," (Y/n) replied, watching as he pulled out a volume of Byron. "She had quite passionate opinions about literature."

"Had?" He glanced up, those dark eyes suddenly intent.

"She passed when I was seven."

"Ah." Something flickered across his face - understanding? Recognition? "My condolences. Though I suspect she left you her love of poetry?"

(Y/n) moved closer, drawn by the way his fingers caressed the book's leather binding. "You quoted Byron earlier - 'The Dream.'"

"Yes." He turned toward her fully then, and she realized how close they'd gotten. His voice dropped lower, intimate. "You must call me Jimin. Somehow 'Park' feels... inadequate. Too formal for what I sense between us."

The way he said it - as if they shared some profound secret - made her breath catch. That nagging familiarity surged again, stronger than ever.

"Have we..." she started, then hesitated. "This may sound strange, but I feel as though..."

"As though we've met before?" His smile held something dangerous now, thrilling. "Perhaps in dreams?"

The word triggered something - a memory trying to surface - but before she could grasp it, he was moving again, graceful as a cat, pulling another book from the shelves.

"Ah, Coleridge. Another poet fascinated by dreams and the boundaries between worlds." He began to read, his voice taking on a hypnotic quality.

The library had grown darker around them, the sunset painting the sky beyond the windows in shades of blood and gold. For a moment, neither spoke, the silence heavy with unspoken things. His closeness should have made her uncomfortable, yet somehow it felt... inevitable.

"I hardly slept last night," (Y/n) found herself confessing, her voice barely above a whisper. "There was something... strange."

Jimin's expression shifted subtly, a flash of intense interest quickly masked. "Strange how?"

"I thought..." she hesitated, aware of how foolish it might sound. "I woke in the night - or perhaps I was still dreaming - and there was a figure, standing at the foot of my bed. Just... watching me."

His fingers, still lingering near her face, stilled completely. "And this frightened you?"

"No," she realized, surprised by her own answer. "It should have, shouldn't it? A stranger in my room. But it felt... familiar somehow. Like a half-remembered lullaby."

The last rays of sunlight caught in his dark eyes, making them appear almost burgundy. "Dreams have their own truth," he said softly. "Sometimes truer than what we think we know when awake."

Something in his tone made her shiver, though not unpleasantly. She found herself studying his face in the fading light, trying to catch that elusive sense of recognition that kept dancing just beyond her grasp. "Do you dream, Jimin?"

His smile held secrets. "Oh yes. Though sometimes I find it hard to distinguish between dreams and memories. Don't you find them remarkably similar? Both grow hazy around the edges, both feel real while we're in them..." He shifted slightly closer. "Both can haunt us long after we think we've forgotten them."

The library had grown so dark that his face was now mostly shadow, yet his eyes seemed to catch what little light remained. (Y/n) was acutely aware of how improper their situation had become - alone in the growing dark, sitting far too close. Yet she couldn't bring herself to move away.

"Tell me about your life here," he said suddenly, his voice gentle. "This beautiful cage of yours."

She started at his choice of words - so similar to her own thoughts. "How did you-?"

"I recognize the look," he interrupted softly. "The way you watch the road from your windows. The hunger in your eyes when you speak of your friend... Bertha, was it?"

The name should have brought fresh pain, but somehow it felt distant, unimportant in the face of his overwhelming presence. "Yes, she was... she was to visit. Before..."

"Before fate intervened," he finished for her. "Perhaps it was meant to be this way. Perhaps I was meant to find you instead."

The presumption of such a statement should have shocked her, yet she found herself nodding. "I've never been able to talk to anyone like this," she admitted. "Even Bertha... there were always proper things to say, proper ways to be. This feels..."

"Different," he supplied. "Real. As if we've known each other forever." His cool fingers found hers in the darkness. "As if we've met before."

That nagging sense of familiarity surged again, stronger than ever. There was something about his face in the shadows, something about the way he looked at her...

The sound of footsteps in the corridor broke the spell. They moved apart just as Madame Perrodon appeared in the doorway, carrying a lamp that made them both blink at its sudden brightness.

"Mademoiselle, it's nearly time to dress for dinner." Her tone held a gentle reproof. "And the lamps should have been lit an hour ago. It's not good for your eyes, reading in such dim light."

(Y/n) stood, suddenly aware of how long they'd been secluded together, how improper it must seem. But when she glanced at Jimin, he appeared perfectly composed, as if they'd been discussing nothing more intimate than the weather.

"My fault entirely, Madame," he said, rising with fluid grace. "I'm afraid I quite lost track of time, enchanted by your charge's conversation."

Something in the way he said it - so perfectly proper yet somehow suggesting deeper meanings - made (Y/n)'s cheeks flush. Madame Perrodon's expression suggested she caught the undertone as well, though she said nothing.

"Will you join us for dinner?" (Y/n) asked, not ready for their conversation to end.

A shadow seemed to pass over his face. "I fear I'm still somewhat fatigued from yesterday's... excitement. Perhaps tomorrow? The daylight hours particularly tax my strength."

"Of course," she said quickly, concerned. "You must rest."

He caught her hand as she passed, his touch cool and electric. "Dream of me," he whispered, too soft for Madame Perrodon to hear.

Something about the way he said it - half playful, half command - sent another shiver down her spine. As if she could dream of anything else.

Dinner that evening felt like a strange performance where (Y/n) couldn't quite remember her lines. The familiar rhythms of the household - the clink of silver against fine china, the measured steps of servants, her father's occasional comments about estate matters - seemed to come from very far away. Her thoughts kept drifting upstairs, to the blue room where Jimin now rested.

"(Y/n)?" Her father's voice broke through her reverie. "You've been pushing the same pea around your plate for ten minutes."

"I'm sorry, Papa." She forced herself to take a bite, though the food held little interest. "I suppose I'm a bit tired."

Her father studied her over his wine glass, his expression thoughtful. "Our guest seems... interesting. You spent quite some time in the library today."

Something in his tone made her glance up sharply, but his face held only mild curiosity. If anything, he looked pleased - the first time she'd seen such an expression since Bertha's letter arrived.

"He's very well-read," she offered carefully. "We discussed poetry, and..."

"And?" her father prompted when she trailed off, remembering the intensity of Jimin's gaze in the falling darkness.

"He understands things," she found herself saying. "About feeling... isolated. Different." The words came out before she could stop them, more honest than she'd meant to be.

Her father's face softened. "I know these past years have been lonely for you, my dear. Perhaps it's providence that brought him to us, especially after..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. Bertha's death hung between them, an invisible weight.

"Yes," (Y/n) whispered, though something about suggesting providence in connection with Jimin felt strange, almost blasphemous.

"Still," Madame Perrodon interjected from her place at the table, "proper chaperoning must be maintained. A young man, however well-bred..."

"Of course, of course," her father waved off the concern. "But surely some companionship would do (Y/n) good. And he seems a perfect gentleman."

Perfect. The word echoed in (Y/n)'s mind. He was perfect - too perfect, perhaps. Like a painting of a person rather than a person themselves. Even now, she found she couldn't quite recall the exact details of his face, though she'd spent hours studying it. It was as if his features shifted slightly in her memory, like reflections in moving water.

"Mademoiselle?" One of the maids - Anne - was at her elbow. "You've gone quite pale. Are you unwell?"

"Just tired," (Y/n) repeated, though tired wasn't quite the right word. She felt... anticipated, as if she were waiting for something to begin. "Perhaps I should retire early."

"A wise choice," Madame Perrodon said, rising to accompany her.

As they climbed the grand staircase, (Y/n) found her eyes drawn to the blue room's door. No light showed beneath it, but she had the strangest feeling that behind that heavy oak panel, in the darkness, Jimin was awake. Waiting. Thinking of her as she thought of him.

"Sweet dreams, my dear," Madame Perrodon said as they reached (Y/n)'s room. Something in her tone suggested she'd noticed the lingering glance at the blue room's door.

Alone in her room, (Y/n) moved to her window. The night was clear, stars scattered across the sky like diamond dust. Somewhere in the gardens, a nightingale began to sing. The sound made her think of Jimin's voice, the hypnotic way he'd spoken of dreams and memories.

Her reflection in the window glass looked strange to her - pale, eyes too bright, as if she were already half in a dream. Behind her, shadows gathered in the corners of her room, and she could have sworn they moved like living things...

That night, sleep came to (Y/n) like a creeping tide. The moon hung full and low outside her window, casting strange shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. In that liminal space between waking and dreaming, time began to slip and stretch like pulled taffy.

She first became aware of her paralysis when she tried to turn away from the moonlight. Her limbs felt leaden, refusing to obey even the simplest commands. The air in her room grew thick, heavy with an invisible presence that seemed to press down upon her chest.

Then came the smell - that peculiar sweetness she'd noticed about Jimin, like roses on the edge of decay mixed with something older, something that reminded her of ancient books and midnight gardens. Instead of frightening her, the scent brought an odd comfort, making her mind drift deeper into that strange half-conscious state.

The mattress dipped beside her, as if someone had sat down with infinite care. Cool fingers seemed to brush her cheek, trail down her neck with exquisite tenderness. She should have been terrified - would have been, in any other circumstance. But there was something achingly familiar about the touch, about the presence that filled her room like smoke.

A weight settled over her, not crushing but encompassing, as if she were being embraced by the night itself. That sweet, strange scent grew stronger, and with it came a sensation of being cherished, desired, consumed - all at once. The moonlight caught something moving above her - a face perhaps, beautiful and terrible in equal measure - but before she could focus on its features, consciousness began to slip away entirely.

The last thing she felt was a sharp, sweet pain just above her breast - two points of exquisite sensation that sent waves of pleasure-pain through her increasingly distant body. A voice might have whispered something, ancient words in a language she didn't know but somehow understood, but by then she was falling into deeper dreams...

Morning came with strange heaviness. (Y/n) woke feeling as though she'd been drugged, her limbs weighted with an unfamiliar lethargy. Sunlight streamed through her windows, yet she felt none of its warmth. There was a peculiar sensation in her breast - not quite pain, but a presence, as if someone had pressed their hand there and the pressure lingered, though nothing showed.

"Mademoiselle?" Madame Perrodon's voice seemed to come from very far away. "Are you unwell? It's past nine..."

"Just tired," (Y/n) managed, though 'tired' wasn't the right word. She felt simultaneously drained and oddly euphoric, as if she were floating just slightly above herself.

The morning passed in a dream-like haze. She found herself drifting off during breakfast, her father's voice fading in and out like a poorly tuned piano. The tea tasted strange in her mouth, the toast turning to ash on her tongue.

"Perhaps you should rest today," her father suggested, watching her with concern. "You're quite pale."

But the thought of returning to bed held no appeal. Instead, she found herself drawn to the upper corridor, to the blue room where their guest presumably still slept. The door, she noticed, was firmly locked - Mrs. Klaus's knocking going unanswered as she attempted to deliver tea.

It wasn't until late afternoon that Jimin finally emerged. (Y/n) had taken refuge in the library, attempting to read but finding the words swimming before her eyes. His entrance was silent - she looked up to find him simply there, watching her with those dark, knowing eyes.

"You look tired," he said softly, settling into the chair opposite hers. In the fading daylight, his own face held a similar languor, as if he too were recovering from some midnight exertion.

"Strange dreams," she found herself saying, though she couldn't quite remember them. Just impressions remained - a weight on her chest, cool fingers against her skin, a presence both terrifying and beloved.

Something flickered in his eyes - interest? Recognition? But he only smiled that secretive smile and began speaking of other things. As darkness fell, his lethargy seemed to lift. By evening, he was almost vibrant, his movements acquiring that fluid grace she remembered from their first meeting.

That week settled into a strange pattern. Each morning, (Y/n) woke feeling increasingly drained, yet somehow lighter, as if she were slowly becoming less substantial. Jimin's door remained locked until late afternoon, no amount of knocking drawing response. Their conversations, when he finally appeared, grew more intimate, more intense.

"Tell me about your dreams," he would say, his voice holding that hypnotic quality that made her want to confess everything. But the dreams remained elusive - just fragments of sensation, of presence, of a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

News came, carried by Marcel who'd been to the village, that Catherine - the milliner's daughter - had taken ill with some mysterious malady. "Weak as a kitten," the gardener reported, "and her sister Marie looking hardly better."

The information stirred something in (Y/n)'s mind - a half-formed connection she couldn't quite grasp. But then Jimin would appear, beautiful in the gathering darkness, and all other thoughts would fade away.

Their early days together fell into a strange rhythm. Though Jimin never appeared before late afternoon, the house seemed to hold its breath waiting for him. (Y/n) found herself drawn to the library as the sun began its westward descent, knowing he would eventually materialize in the doorway like a figure stepping out of a dream.

On this particular afternoon, autumn rain drummed against the windows, creating a cocoon of grey light and shadow. (Y/n) sat in her usual window seat, a book open but unread in her lap, when she felt rather than heard his approach.

"You're watching for me now," he observed, his voice holding that mixture of amusement and satisfaction that made her cheeks warm. "Do I make such entertaining company?"

"You make interesting company," she corrected, marking how the rain-light seemed to make his skin almost luminous. "Though you never speak of yourself."

He settled beside her with that fluid grace she'd come to expect. "What would you know? My histories are long and dark - hardly suitable conversation for a young lady."

Before she could press further, voices in the entrance hall drew their attention. Through the library's open door came the sound of her father greeting someone - a man's voice, educated but unfamiliar, speaking with urgent authority.

"The deaths in the neighboring village..." the voice was saying. "Most concerning patterns... Similar to cases I've studied..."

(Y/n) felt Jimin tense beside her, though his face remained perfectly composed. Something shifted in the air between them, like the pressure change before a storm.

Their visitor proved to be Father Laurent, a scholar-priest from the nearby monastery. He carried himself with the confident air of a man used to being heard, his dark robes still beaded with rain. But it was the wooden box he carried that drew (Y/n)'s attention - ornately carved with symbols she didn't recognize.

"My dear," her father gestured her forward as she and Jimin entered the drawing room. "Father Laurent has brought something he thinks might interest you. Given your recent... fatigue."

The priest's eyes moved between her and Jimin, something knowing in his gaze that made her uncomfortable. "Yes, indeed. Though I see you have a guest...?"

"Park Jimin," her father supplied. "A temporary addition to our household after an accident on the road."

"Most fortunate," Father Laurent murmured, though his tone suggested he thought it anything but. His attention returned to (Y/n). "My child, I've brought something that might help with your... affliction."

From the wooden box, he withdrew a necklace - a simple leather cord from which hung a small silver charm. The metal caught the grey light strangely, seeming to hold it rather than reflect it.

"An old blessing," the priest explained, moving to place it around her neck. "For protection against... night terrors."

(Y/n) was acutely aware of Jimin's presence behind her, the way the air seemed to crackle with some unnamed tension. As Father Laurent's fingers brushed her neck, securing the charm, she heard the softest intake of breath from Jimin - something between a hiss and a sigh.

"How kind," Jimin's voice was perfectly modulated, yet somehow held an edge she'd never heard before. "Though surely a young lady has no need for such... medieval trinkets?"

In the days following Father Laurent's visit, the charm around (Y/n)'s neck grew to feel like both comfort and burden. Though she often caught Jimin eyeing it with something like distaste, he never mentioned it directly. Instead, his attempts to occupy her attention seemed to grow more focused, more intense.

One particularly languid afternoon, she found herself drawn to the blue room. The door, usually so firmly locked, stood slightly ajar - an invitation she couldn't resist. Inside, Jimin lay across the bed fully dressed, one arm thrown elegantly across his eyes.

"I wondered when you'd come," he said without moving, as if he'd been waiting for her. "The sun is so harsh today. Draw the curtains?"

She did, watching how the heavy blue velvet transformed the room into a twilight world. When she turned back, he had shifted to make space beside him on the counterpane.

"Come," he said softly. "Lie beside me. Like we used to."

The words struck her oddly - they'd never done this before - but she found herself moving forward anyway. It wasn't proper, she knew, to be here without Madame Perrodon's supervision, but Jimin had a way of making improper things seem natural, inevitable.

"Why do you always lock your door?" she found herself asking as she carefully settled beside him, the question that had burned in her mind finally finding voice.

His smile widened slightly, though his arm remained over his eyes. "Do I? Perhaps I sleepwalk. Perhaps I have secrets I must keep." His free hand found hers, fingers intertwining with that unnatural coolness she'd grown used to. "Perhaps I'm afraid of what might come visiting in the night."

"You mock me," she said, though without heat.

"Never." He turned then, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her. The dim light caught in his dark eyes, making them appear almost burgundy. "I would never mock your curiosity. It's one of the things I find most..." he paused, seeming to taste the word before speaking it, "...delicious about you."

The way he said it sent shivers down her spine, though not entirely unpleasant ones. They lay in silence for a moment, his cool fingers tracing abstract patterns on her palm.

"Tell me a story," he said finally. "Something from your childhood. A memory you hold dear."

She thought for a moment, and then, "I had the strangest dream once, when I was very young - perhaps six or seven. Though sometimes I wonder if it was a dream at all..."

His hand stilled in hers. "Tell me."

"I woke in the night - or thought I did. There was a figure standing by my bed, the most beautiful being I'd ever seen." As she spoke, the memory became clearer, details she'd forgotten surfacing like bodies in dark water. "They knelt beside me, stroked my hair. I felt... loved. Cherished. But also..."

"Also?" His voice had taken on an odd quality, intense yet somehow distant.

"Afraid. Not of them, exactly, but of how much I wanted them to stay. They spoke to me, though I couldn't understand the words. And then..." She touched her breast unconsciously, just below where the charm now lay. "There was a sensation, like being pierced by ice and fire at once. I screamed..."

"And the servants came running," Jimin said softly. "With candles and concerns. But found nothing amiss, save a very frightened little girl."

(Y/n) sat up slightly, looking at him with surprise. "How did you know?"

His smile was dreamy, distant. "Because I had the same dream at that age, watching over you, caressing you. Strange, isn't it? How some souls are destined to meet, how some moments echo across time until they find their mirror?" His cool fingers brushed her cheek. "Perhaps that's why I feel as though I've known you forever."

The charm at her throat seemed to pulse with sudden warmth, but she found herself leaning into his touch despite it. Something about his words rang both true and false, like a bell with a hidden crack.

"How strange," she murmured, settling back against the pillows. "That we should share such a similar dream."

"Perhaps not strange at all," Jimin replied softly. His fingers had moved to trace the line of her jaw, touch whisper-light but somehow burning cold. "Some meetings are written in the stars, dear one. Some souls call to each other across time itself."

The room had grown darker, though she couldn't remember the sun setting. In this half-light, Jimin's beauty took on an almost painful quality - too perfect to be quite real, like a painting that moved and breathed. His dark eyes seemed to drink in her face with an intensity that should have frightened her.

"You're trembling," he observed, his cool hand sliding down to rest over her heart. "Are you afraid?"

"No," she whispered, though her pulse raced beneath his palm. "I should be, shouldn't I? Everything about this is..." She gestured vaguely at their position, at the impropriety of lying together in the growing dark.

"Everything about this is exactly as it should be." His face was very close now, his sweet, strange scent making her head spin. "You're mine, (Y/n). You've always been mine, since that dream, since before that dream. Can't you feel it?"

The charm at her throat seemed to burn, but she couldn't focus on its warning. Not with Jimin's cool fingers trailing down her neck, not with the weight of his gaze holding her like a butterfly pinned to velvet.

"Mine," he murmured again, the word carrying a weight that made her shiver. His fingers traced patterns on her skin that felt like ancient writing, like secrets too old for human understanding. "My sweet, innocent girl."

The endearment should have felt patronizing, but instead it made her feel precious, cherished. His touch remained gentle, yet there was something possessive in it that stirred feelings she had no names for. The charm at her throat felt like it was burning now, but she couldn't bring herself to move away.

"I don't understand," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What is this? What are we to each other?"

His smile in the darkness was beautiful and terrible. "Everything," he breathed, leaning closer until his lips nearly brushed her ear. "We are everything to each other. Past, present, future - all flowing together like rivers to the sea."

The poetic words made her head spin, or perhaps it was his proximity, the sweet-strange scent of him overwhelming her senses. His cool fingers had found their way into her hair, loosening pins until soft strands fell around her shoulders.

"Beautiful," he murmured, watching the way her hair spilled across the blue silk of the counterpane. "Like night itself made tangible." His thumb brushed her bottom lip, the touch so intimate it made her gasp. "So innocent, so pure. Do you know what you do to me, dear?"

She shook her head, unable to form words. Her whole world had narrowed to his touch, his voice, the way his dark eyes seemed to glow in the gathering shadows. This was improper - beyond improper - but propriety seemed a distant concern, as unreal as the world beyond this room.

"Everything about you calls to me," he continued, his voice taking on that hypnotic quality that made her feel as though she were drowning in honey. "Your innocence, your trust, your..." he pressed his hand against her rapidly beating heart, "...life.

The room had grown darker as they lay together, the heavy blue curtains transforming late afternoon into premature dusk. (Y/n) knew she should leave - everything about this situation defied propriety - yet she found herself sinking deeper into the feather mattress, hyperaware of Jimin's cool presence beside her.

His fingers continued their delicate exploration of her palm, each touch sending little shivers up her arm. The simple contact shouldn't have felt so intimate, yet something about the deliberate way he traced each line made her breath catch.

"Your hands are always so cold," she murmured, watching his pale fingers contrast against her skin.

"And yours so warm," he responded, bringing her wrist to his lips in a gesture that walked the line between courtly and something else entirely. His breath ghosted across her pulse point, making her shiver. "Like you've captured sunlight beneath your skin."

She should pull away. A proper young lady would never allow such liberties. But Jimin had a way of making improper things seem natural, inevitable. When he tugged her closer, she found herself yielding, turning to face him on the blue silk counterpane.

"Sometimes," he said softly, his free hand moving to brush a strand of hair from her face, "I wonder if you know how extraordinary you are." His touch lingered at her temple, traced the curve of her cheek with exquisite slowness. "How rare it is to find someone who sees the world as you do, who understands..."

"Understands what?" she whispered, lost in the darkness of his eyes. The room seemed to be growing dimmer still, shadows gathering in the corners like conspirators.

Instead of answering, he let his fingers trail down her neck, each touch precise and deliberate. The charm at her throat seemed to pulse with warning heat, but she could focus only on the delicious contrast of his cool skin against her flushed warmth.

"Your heart is racing," he observed, his hand settling over the rapid beat. "Are you frightened of me, dear?"

"No," she answered truthfully. She should be - everything about this situation should terrify her. Instead, she found herself leaning into his touch like a flower seeking shade. "Though perhaps I should be."

His smile in the gathering dark was both beautiful and strange. "Wise girl." His fingers had found their way into her hair, carefully removing the last of the pins setting loose luscious waves that spilled across the pillows. "Though I prefer your trust to your wisdom."

The impropriety of her loosened hair struck her suddenly - this was something only a lady's maid or husband should see. Yet when Jimin's fingers carded through the strands, sending pleasant shivers down her spine, propriety seemed a distant concern.

"Like silk," he murmured, watching the way her hair caught what little light remained. His touch became more possessive, one hand tangling in the strands while the other traced patterns on her neck that felt like ancient writing. "Everything about you is so..."

He didn't finish the thought. Instead, he shifted closer, until she could feel the strange coolness that always emanated from him along her entire body. His face lowered to her neck, just beside the charm, and she felt rather than heard him inhale deeply.

"Jimin," she breathed, hardly recognizing her own voice. It came out halfway between protest and plea.

"Say it again," he demanded softly, his lips now brushing her throat with each word. "I love how my name sounds on your lips."

"Jimin," she whispered again, the name falling from her lips like a prayer. His mouth pressed against her pulse point in response, a kiss that felt more like worship.

The room spun slowly around them, or perhaps it was just her head spinning. Everything felt dreamlike - the deepening shadows, the cool press of his body against hers, the way his fingers traced arcane patterns down her arms. She was dimly aware that she should maintain some semblance of propriety, but propriety seemed to belong to another world entirely.

His hand at her waist pulled her closer still, grip possessive yet somehow reverent. "Do you know," he murmured against her skin, "how long I've waited for this? For you?"

The words made little sense, yet sent shivers down her spine nonetheless. His lips traveled up her neck with exquisite slowness, each kiss a point of delicious cold that made her gasp. When his teeth grazed her earlobe, she found herself clutching at his shoulders, unsure if she meant to push him away or draw him closer.

"My innocent girl," he breathed, his free hand now trailing down her side, following the curve of her waist. "So responsive to every touch." As if to demonstrate, his fingers splayed across her ribcage, thumb brushing just beneath her breast. Even through layers of clothing, the touch felt scandalously intimate.

She should stop this. Should remember her position, her reputation, all the careful lessons in propriety that Madame Perrodon had instilled. Instead, she found herself arching slightly into his touch, craving more of that wonderful chill.

"That's it," he encouraged softly, his nose trailing along her jaw. "Trust me. Let me..." His hand slipped higher, and she felt rather than heard his satisfaction when she gasped. "Perfect. You're perfect."

The charm at her throat burned in earnest now, but she barely noticed. Not when Jimin's mouth was leaving a trail of frost down her neck, not when his hands were teaching her body sensations she'd never imagined. Everything felt heightened, dreamlike - the silk beneath her, the weight of him beside her, the sweet-strange scent that always surrounded him now filling her lungs like incense.

His touches grew bolder, more demanding. One hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to expose more of her throat while the other...

Footsteps in the corridor snapped through their private world like breaking glass. Voices approached - servants doing their evening rounds, discussing dinner preparations with comfortable familiarity.

Reality crashed back with stunning force. (Y/n) jerked away, suddenly aware of her state - hair loose and wild around her shoulders, dress rumpled, lips surely swollen from his attention. What had she been thinking? What had she allowed?

"I should..." she stumbled to her feet, face burning with shame and lingering desire. "I need to..."

"Go," Jimin said softly, still lounging on the bed with casual grace, as if nothing untoward had happened. But his eyes burned in the darkness, and his smile held something that made her shiver anew. "Dream of me."

She fled the room just as the servants' voices passed by, straightening her dress with trembling fingers. Behind her, she heard the distinctive click of his door locking once again.

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔬

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yoongsisbae · 2 years ago

Text

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 6

A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters.

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung.

If you enjoy this series and want more updates, please leave a comment or reblog!

Warnings: smutty content, mind control, blood-drinking cause vampire things, dubconish, light yandere, voyeur, lots of neck licking lol

Word count: 12.1k

---

“You are going to be the reason we all die.”

“Jimin, stop,” Jin says. “Dove, we need to know what Taehyung said to you,” he asks, much more diplomatically.

You shake your head, trying to make your way closer to the vampires, but the men around you have made an impressive barrier. How are you going to explain the lost months you experienced, the things you witnessed in Jimin’s memory? You stare at the angry younger vampire, how are you going to convince Jimin to help you?

“Jimin, you need to bite me.”

“What?!”

“What did you do to her?!” Hoseok roars at the vampire in question, who looks equally as shocked and offended at the accusation.

“Nothing!” you interject, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“He did something to her to make her act like this!” Hoseok yells louder, turning his frustrations onto his pack leader.

“She has been calling out to him since we found her,” Yoongi tells Namjoon, confirming Hoseok’s accusations.

“What?! What did you do!” Jungkook growls out. “I’ll kill you-”

“It’s my fault that she's obsessed with me?” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away like the entire display was beneath him.

“Do you want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who furiously glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You speak up first, desperate to make them understand you. “Jin, why exactly did you forbid Jimin to bite me in the first place? Huh? Why?!” you challenge him.

Everyone stares at the eldest, even the vampire in question himself. Seokjin’s finger runs over his forehead, moving a stray lock of hair back in place. He clears his throat, “I did not want to cause him any pain-”

“What do you mean pain?” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

You huff, “Your memories, Jimin, your life-”

“There are certain memories better forgotten,” Seokjin interjects.

“No, no,” you say shakily. You had wished to forget this place so many times locked up in the vampire’s lair, and then when you did, you lost more than just the memories, you lost yourself. “No.”

And Jimin, he too, is lost.

You glance over to the defiant vampire. “You have to bite me, you’re the only one who can stop Taehyung!”

Jimin looks around at everyone’s concerned faces, growing more irritated. Why does he have to be the one to stop Taehyung? Jimin never agreed to even help! And what makes you even think he has that kind of power?

“Why?” It was Hoseok who questioned you angrily, upset at the way you are treating Jimin with such fondness. “Why him?!”

“Because he knows magic,” you say simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I d-don’t know magic,” he spits out. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself!

But everyone is silent, eyes full of guilt and remorse, looking at him as if they know something he doesn’t. The kind of look that Jimin despises.

“You do,” you say with more conviction. “When you were human. I can show you.” You hold out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires.

“What is she talking about, Jin?” he turns to the eldest.

“Jin, we don’t have time, you need to be honest with him!”

“Shut up! You are the reason we are even in this mess to begin with, you know that? Just how many times did we tell you to not get so comfy with Taehyung. You let him use you, because you’re weak, you’re-”

“And what about you?! You let Taehyung use you too, didn’t you?!” you scream, your anger getting the better of you.

“Stop!” Namjoon bellows, “Everyone, stop!” He looks furious with you, his hard glare instantly making you feel small and apologetic.

“Don’t order me around, you filthy beast!” Jimin hisses at Namjoon, deep and threatening, his eyes glowing with rage.

“We don't have time,” you whimper desperately.

Your head is pounding. You feel it…

…inside of you, in the back of your mind…screaming, wrapping around your bones…

…the dread of something horrible coming for you all.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse.

“Jimin, I’m afraid we need to work together on this.” The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s comforting hand. He’s beginning to think Seokjin is equally to blame as much as you. He’s beginning not to trust him…

“I’m not fucking helping any of you,” he stares at you, glowering. “Let Taehyung tear you apart,” he growls, baring his fangs.

You shake your head in disbelief. “You wanted to be a doctor, you loved helping people, you became a medic in the military. You fought for your country, you saved people,” you ramble on and on, hoping to convince the vampire to listen to reason. You’re angry that no one has told him, they should have, this shouldn’t be coming from you!

Jimin yells, picks up and throws a wicker chair in your direction in his anger, which Jungkook stops with ease, the chair exploding when it hits the youngest’s shoulder.

Hoseok has had just about enough of Jimin, he hasn’t forgotten the scars he witnessed across your body, he hasn’t forgotten the way you looked so fragile when he found you. This was all the vampires’ fault, and Jimin most of all. That arrogant, cruel, deceptive little-

Hoseok transforms instantly, pouncing on Jimin.

Yoongi pulls you back as the others transform as well. You’re both thrown to the ground as they fight, as they tear the house apart from the inside, unable to cohabitate any longer.

You groan, rolling over, still attempting to get to the headstrong vampire, your hand pressing into broken glass and blood escaping.

At the smell it wasn’t Jimin, but Jin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes glow red, searching out your blood.

Namjoon’s large snout sinks its teeth into the eldest vampire and the fighting only escalates tenfold. Everything is loud, everything is chaos. You try to keep moving closer to the chaos still, until you notice something familiar in front of you.

You notice the redness of the gem that had fallen out of Yoongi’s pack in the chaos, now shining brighter than ever.

Oh no. You can feel it again, pulling you in. You shuffle backwards, clutching your chest, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter, glowing like the vampires’ eyes then glowing even more until it envelops the entire home.

“Do you all want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

This is getting you nowhere. Good God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think! You try to come up with a plan, but your head is throbbing in pain.

Jimin speaks up first, “Just what are you playing at, pet?”

You look up at him. “Pull my memories. You’ve already done it once. Just do it again.”

Seokjin looks over at the younger vampire in disbelief.

“I have not,” Jimin looks at you furiously for getting him in trouble over a lie. “She’s obviously suffering from some delusional episode! Listen, you wretched human girl! You’re nothing to me, you mean nothing, so stop these fantasies! right! now!”

“You have, and we saw your mother. You just, ugh, don’t remember because it happened in the future, ugh, just-” you groan, clutching your head. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. Your body starts shaking and Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist to steady you.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. His mother? You saw his mother? How dare you even talk about her! Like you know anything about her, like you know more than Jimin, who well, knows nothing about his mother…and he doesn’t care to know!

Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself! It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse. “See! She’s lost it,” he yells, pointing at you. “So weak!”

“Please, I’m not lying,” you cry out. You feel sick. You just want to save them, why won’t they listen to you?! Jungkook holds you tighter as your legs give out.

“What’s happening to her!” Hoseok looks over to his leader worriedly, holding onto your shoulders to keep you upright as you slump forward.

“I think it has something to do with this,” Yoongi pulls the red amulet from his pouch, holding the necklace up and letting it dangle for everyone to see.

“No!” You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

You clutch your chest, closing your eyes tightly as it burns brighter, until it envelops the entire home.

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You feel your stomach turn again. You feel winded, like you’ve been running. You massage your temples, wiping away the accumulating sweat. God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think!

“Why?” Jungkook speaks first, voice full of pain. “Why Jimin out of all of us?” Your heart drops at his hurt expression. You don’t know the right way to explain to Jungkook, to all of them, why this needs to be done, especially now when your head feels like it’s about to explode. When did you become so jittery? What is happening?! You try to concentrate and think, but where do you even begin?

“W-We all know the power they have, right?” You gesture to the vampires. “The way they can look into your memories when they…but Jimin has never bitten me,” technically that is correct in this point in time, “only Jin-”

“Yeah, and just why is that?” Jimin looks at the eldest vampire pointedly, crossing his arms, fed up with Seokjin’s obtuse answers. “Explain.”

Seokjin sighs, straightening the wrinkly shirt Namjoon had given him to wear. “It was for your protection,” he addresses Jimin.

“Protection from what?!” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

“We don’t have time for this,” you mutter. You feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about Seokjin, about him, better than himself!

“THEN JUST BITE ME!” You scream back. “You’ve been wanting to all this time!”

The pack watches you argue, stunned into silence. This is news to everyone else; Jimin hasn’t bitten you? And furthermore, Seokjin didn’t want him to bite you. Seokjin had found Namjoon and explained most of what happened, but not that.

---

“Stay here, in case Hoseok returns.” That was a direct order from his pack leader, and as much as Jungkook wanted to disobey and run towards the thundering noise that had rattled their home, the older shapeshifter was leagues above the young wolf in strength and dominance.

It was luck that Namjoon encountered the pair of vampires instead of his brothers. If it had been anyone else, the vampires might not have made it out with their heads. But Namjoon was always the type to observe first, take everything in before making any rash decision, it’s what kept him alive this long and made Namjoon a leader.

Jin and Namjoon were talkers. They were, even in their wildest days, the best at beguiling, enticing, drawing in others with their words, and upon meeting, they realized they had finally met their match. Namjoon’s most favorite nights were conversations with Seokjin, picking apart the intricacies of the humanities. Two beasts had become obsessed with learning and gaining a humanity of their own.

Namjoon would have torn them apart otherwise. But the magical blasts had knocked the younger more confrontational vampire out, and Seokjin pleaded with Namjoon to listen to his story. “Taehyung has escaped.” With a start like that, Namjoon couldn’t resist not learning more.

With the sun soon rising and Taehyung out there somewhere, Namjoon had little options left but to invite the wounded vampires into his home.

While you were in another part of the island healing and trying to bridge the peace amongst two headstrong beasts, Namjoon and Seokjin were coming to their own kind of peace, a détente at least for the time being, an opportunity to speak to each other like old times now that they had a bigger enemy then themselves.

---

“Well now I don’t want to.” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away.

You look at him in disbelief. Ugh. This is driving you crazy, there is no time to be like this. ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button. Fuck, you are so over this!

You think about the crying man on the floor, covered in your blood with a broken expression on his face, you think about that sweet boy, crying for his mother. Somewhere deep inside Jimin is that sweet boy who cried.

You look down at your nails with one last hope remaining. You’ll just have to make him drink from you.

You dig your nails into your forearm, scratching your skin as deep as you can.

But it was Seokjin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes turning red, searching out your blood.

Fur envelopes you, Jungkook and Hoseok shielding you with their large canine bodies while Seokjin lunges for you, stopped short by Namjoon’s fangs.

Jimin throws the beast off the older vampire. Jimin, full of rage, tears his sharp nails into Namjoon’s coat. Yoongi screams for Jin, his influential words finally knocking him out of his blood stupor. Then he calls out to the younger vampire, “Jimin, stop.”

But Jimin is already too full of rage to listen to reason. He can’t stand being stuck in this idiot infested house any longer. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse! He should have never listened to Seokjin! He’s beginning not to trust him-

Seokjin addresses the two wolves next to you as the younger vampire lashes out. “Take her out of here, hurry!” he yells, attempting with difficulty to retain the younger vampire with Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s help.

“No!” you scream at the top of your lungs, “You don’t understand!”

A deep growl from Jungkook frightens you into silence. His fangs are around your stomach, only holding you still, not puncturing into you, but it’s terrifying nonetheless as he yanks you backwards, his hind legs digging into the earth.

You cry once outside, unable to pull yourself together. You pull at Jungkook’s fangs, attempting to unlock his jaw from your side and the large beast begins to whimper in anguish at your attempts to flee from him, extinguishing the fight inside you.

Nothing is working! Nothing! It’s hopeless, you’re all going to die, you think, either by Taehyung’s hands or by each others. You cry harder into Jungkook’s fur, who has wrapped his large canine body around yours.

“…what?” You see it from the open door and your body acts on impulse as you claw at the ground, trying to move closer, uncaring if Jungkook’s teeth tear at your skin. Tears dry up as you watch the house start to glow red, brighter than anything you’ve ever seen before.

No, that’s not quite true. You’ve seen that red glow befo-

“We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks. “Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” you murmur to yourself. Jungkook and Jimin glance towards your way.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me…” you whisper. “Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him-”

“There is no telling what he is capable of now,” you say in unison to the leader, finally aware this is not just some strange case of deja vu. All eyes turn to you. Jimin scoffs, just like he did before, pulling on Seokjin’s shoulder. “...I-I want Jimin to bite me!” you yell.

“No! No way in hell.” “No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!” “Oh I am going to kill you!”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jimin screams accusingly.

You look around, your gaze stopping on the eldest. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. “Seokjin doesn’t make me do anything!” you yell back in unison, a satisfied smirk on your face, pointing directly at Jimin.

“How the fuck are you doing that?” the merman questions.

You rub your temples, trying to make sense of it all. ‘This happened before, why has this happened before? This has to be Tae’s doing!’ “I don’t know, I don’t know, but we’ve already had this conversation, and I-I think, I can’t remember, something must have went wrong...Jimin, you need to bite me, right now!”

“Well…” he clears his throat, looking around as everyone has gone deathly quiet, “now I don’t want to,” Jimin crosses his arms.

Ugh! ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button. “Listen, you’ve already done it once! Just just do it agai-wait, no, we did this already…something is wrong…”

“Maybe it’s you!” Jimin accuses. “Taehyung has already gotten in her head, how can we trust her?” he warns the others.

“You’re...right!”

“Y/n?”

“Jimin is right. I can feel him,” you shudder. “Which is why you need to bite me, because I know for certain, Taehyung doesn’t want you to.” You hold your hand to him.

“And if this is a trick?”

“Ugh, I’m not tricking you! I want to stop Taehyung for you, you idiot!”

‘Idiot’?! How dare you call Jimin an idiot, when you’re the biggest of the idiots in this idiot infested house! “And suddenly you have my best interest at heart?!” Jimin yells back, disgust evident.

Ugh, your head is killing you, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all.

You try to think about everything that has transpired since you met Taehyung, trying to see if you missed anything-

“Wait, wait, wait…ugh, let me go!” you yell at the pack surrounding you. You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling into the sand.

You look up at the sky, taking a deep breath of fresh air to calm yourself. It’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re scared of what night will bring.

Yoongi is by your side, lifting you up. “Y/n,” you think he is about to dismiss you like he always does, but instead he says, “tell me what I need to do to help you.”

“Yoongi...” You’ve never seen him so sincere before. “Do you think you can use your siren song on Jimin to-”

“I can hear you, pet! It doesn’t work! And I should kill you for even suggesting it.”

“Touch her and I will kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Ugh,” you groan, turning your back as the group of stubborn monsters in front of you begin to bicker, deja vu hitting you hard again. “What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to change?” You ask yourself out loud, head in your hands.

Yoongi holds you steady. “Something definitely is up, and I have a feeling it has something to do with this-” Yoongi looks through his pack.

“T-That’s it! Wait! No!” You yell as Yoongi pulls the gem out of his pack, letting it dangle in his hand.

But it’s too late. You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

‘Y/n, take it.’

You fall back to the ground and clutch your chest, dismissing the words inside your head, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter.

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

Okay, this is it. “Seokjin, you need to bite me.”

“What!?” Jimin yells angrily.

You look into Seokjin’s eyes, silently pleading with him. “The memory pull, it’s going to work now. Please,” you urge, holding out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires. “Look into my memories and you’ll understand!”

Jimin pulls the eldest back as he advances. “You’re really going to obey her command? Just like that! Taehyung might have already gotten to her, how can we trust her?!”

“You’re right! Jimin is right. I can feel him. Which is why…” you swallow, looking at Jimin, remembering this same conversation said just another way, wondering just how many times you have tried to convince them. “Which is why, you need to bite me.” You move your eyes to Seokjin, staring ahead steadfast. “So you can see the truth!”

“Why?” Jungkook speaks up, voice full of pain. “Why Seokjin out of all-”

You grab the youngest’s face and kiss him abruptly, silencing his worries.

Hoseok’s stares at you, mouth agape. He doesn’t know whether to be furious with you, or satisfied that Jimin and Yoongi both look so furious with you for kissing the youngest shapeshifter.

“Trust me, please,” your hands shake in your desperation, squishing his cheeks as he looks at you in shock and awe.

“O-Okay,” Jungkook nods.

The eldest vampire sighs and starts to move closer much to Jimin’s astonishment and disgust. You try to push past the pack’s strong bodies. It hurts them to see you try to go to their enemy, but they let you pass.

Jimin crosses his arms, scoffing as the eldest meets you in the center of the room. Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. Suddenly you want Seokjin to bite you now? When you were just throwing yourself at Jimin! Why?! What happened? What’s the reason? You’re so annoying, you’re insufferable, the way you look at Seokjin with so much hope and trust.

Jimin grinds his teeth together in anger, so hard his fangs begin to pierce his bottom lip.

Seokjin puts his hands up, glancing towards the pack leader, meaning no harm before he bends his head closer to your neck.

“Wait!” Jimin speaks up. “Y/n, you wanted me to bite you, didn’t you? So come here then!”

“Jimin, I-”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Jimin cuts Seokjin off. “You didn’t listen to me about Taehyung, about her, and then you made a truce with them without even asking me! You’re lucky I even speak to you at all!” Jimin is furious with Seokjin, he’s beginning not to trust him...

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Jimin seethes.

You smile, running past Seokjin. You hold out your wrist to Jimin, looking up at him hopefully.

Jimin scoffs again, gripping your arm painfully and yanking you closer. The wolf trio begin to growl in anger, baring their fangs.

“I choose where I bite you, pet.”

You try to remain calm as the trio behind you let out low threatening growls. Jimin smirks, spinning you around by your arm, hugging you against his body like a shield and snickering at how angry it makes them.

The pack looks ready to attack. Yoongi begins to step forward in his growing anger.

“No!,” you stop him, “J-Just let him do what he wants,” you mutter.

Jimin smirks. “If it was what I wanted, you would be on your knees with your mouth shut.” He sneers, gripping your chin painfully tight and yanking your head backward. “And your head down, thinking about how stupid you are for walking right into Taehyung’s trap.”

‘Like you did,’ you think, keeping your temper in check. “I know you’re scared, it’s okay.”

“I am not scared!” he hisses, nails digging into your side. You wince. Namjoon’s growls become louder.

“Namjoon, stop!”

Jimin smirks again. “Yeah, listen to her, dog. Since we are all at this human’s mercy,” he scoffs. “You seem to know so much about what happens next, so tell me, is it going all according to your little plan?” He presses his body against yours, holding you tightly.

“You like this, don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, obscenely grinding himself against your backside. Jimin rests his chin on your shoulder, arm still secure around your waist, smirking, intent on drawing this out for everyone involved, “them watching.” His hand grabs your breast roughly.

Your eyes meet Yoongi’s eyes, dark with anger, and you shut them in shame.

You breathe through your nose as he fondles you for everyone to see, letting out short breaths when he rests his hand over your throat, choosing to submit in hopes he’ll eventually do what you want.

Jimin’s fangs scrape across your shoulder as he revels in the intoxicating feeling of power he has over you and everyone else, finally feeling better about his new situation. He breathes in the anger emanating from everyone in the room, inhaling your sweet desperation most of all.

His fangs scratch the surface of you, up the sensitive skin of your neck until you bleed.

Seokjin drops to his knees, panting heavily, addicted to your blood in more ways than one. Jimin stops, looking over to the older vampire. “I’m fine,” Seokjin pants. “I’m fine.”

Jimin looks coldly down at him, how disgraceful that he’s let you affect him so much. That’s what he gets for drinking from you all the time, for not letting Jimin! He licks the blood off your neck and you shudder. Jimin moans loudly, tasting your blood again finally.

The pack looks ready to kill, they bare their fangs, the restraint in their growls long gone.

“I’m sure they can all smell you from here, I can,” Jimin whispers in your ear, hand pressing down on your lower stomach, taunting you, “You’ve learned to be a good little pet, hmm? Here’s your reward.” Jimin presses his fangs into the column of your neck, directly on your pulse.

“What the hell?” the merman mumbles. There is something glowing in Yoongi’s pack. He fumbles with the latch to inspect it. Yoongi yanks out the red glowing gem, confusion evident on his face.

Oh no. You can feel it again. A familiar voice starts to call out to you. If it wasn’t for the pain in your neck keeping you present, you surely would have lost control.

You clutch your chest as the gem burns brighter. “Jimin! You-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?” Jimin roars, advancing on you and the pack.

“You saw– You know–” you look at Jimin in disbelief. You reflexively cover your throat, the punctures are gone, but your heartbeat is still fluttering. “It wasn’t me!” you yell back.

The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s protective hand. “Taehyung…” Jimin growls. “And you!” He points an accusing finger at the merman. “Give me that gem in your pack right now!”

“How did you know about that?” Yoongi glares at the younger vampire.

He scoffs, “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“Well then fuck off,” Yoongi spits out.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with– ‘Wait,’ He feels it, he can’t explain it, but it’s there, all around him, an inevitability that he can’t control, and it pisses him off! Jimin spins around, baring his fangs, claws ready to strike.

The group watches Jimin spin around angrily like a confused dog chasing its tail.

“See,” you glare at Jimin, “See how annoying it is!”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Taehyung. The gem is his. And it seems he’s still using it somehow.” Jimin reasons, looking around at the familiar scene. “Give it, we need to destroy it,” Jimin holds out his hand impatiently. “DAMMIT YOONGI! We don’t have time for this!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you huff.

The merman holds onto his pack defensively. He doesn’t trust Jimin, but he knows they have to work together to stop Taehyung. Jimin is untrustworthy, but Jimin is powerful, more than he even realizes. So Yoongi holds his tongue and relents.

You clutch your head in your hands. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Get it away from me!” you cry out.

You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling in the sand. Jungkook and Hoseok follow you out, worried for your safety and your quickly declining state of mind.

Jimin scoffs again. Pathetic, he thinks. Humans are scared of their own shadows. He turns his attention on the merman, waiting impatiently. He tries to ignore how close the others are to him as the men huddle around to look at the necklace.

Jimin holds the gem in his hand, inspecting it. The weight of it in his palm is heavy. He touches the smooth rock, the gem itself is small, but the energy surrounding it is immense, a familiar power the vampire can’t quite put his finger on. ‘Why isn’t it glowing?’ he thinks, and as soon as the thought enters his mind a slow bright red light begins to emanate around the gem.

“What’s going on?” The pack leader questions, staring at the gem, ready to strike anything that appears.

“I don’t know.” Jimin doesn’t know how to stop it, but he wishes for whatever is happening to halt.

And as soon as the thought entered his mind the glow begins to recede back into the gem.

“Jimin, you should hold onto that necklace for now.” Seokjin speaks.

Jimin looks up and the expression on Seokjin’s face surprises the younger vampire. He’s seen that hardened look before from Seokjin, in moments when the older vampire begins to feel sentimental. Most recently, the night you came to them. Jimin never questioned it before, but now he wants to, he wants to know all the secrets Seokjin is keeping from him. Jimin is beginning not to trust him-

He grabs the eldest’s shirt collar, yanking him close. “You know what this is?”

Seokjin remains unaffected by Jimin’s outburst, covering Jimin’s hand with his own. “Now that I’ve looked at it up close, yes, I’ve seen it before. I believe, that necklace,” he sighs, “used to be yours. A long time ago, I saw you wear it. Or something very similar,” he swallows.

But before you, Jimin has never seen this necklace before in his life! He stares at the gem. That familiarity he feels can’t be– no, that feeling is just like the other moments of deja vu he has been experiencing, it’s not because…is it? Does this necklace belong to him?

You stare at the wolves’ den, refusing to move any closer. Nothing has happened yet, there is no red glow, and no immediate danger, but you feel at any moment everything could change. You look up at the sky, it’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re worried-

“Y/n?” Hoseok shakes you when you don’t respond.

“Hoseok…” You wonder how many times this moment has repeated itself. Has Hoseok looked at you like this before, his care for you evident in his soft gaze? You try to remember and make sense of what is real. “That necklace, Taehyung used it to escape. I-I don’t know how, I don’t know why. I– Ahhh!”

Your nails dig into your scalp as you desperately try to claw away at the pain. The pain is radiating at your temples, just behind your eyes, in the back of your head, behind your ear-

“Hey, y/n, hey!” Hoseok holds your trembling body, patting your cheek, reminded of the moment he found you on the beach. Your eyes stare at the sky, far away, like you’re lost in your head, unable to hear him.

“W-What’s happening to her?!” Jungkook whimpers. You just came back to him and now he fears he might lose you completely.

Hoseok picks you up into his arms, holding you securely to him. “I don’t know, Namjoon will know. I’m taking her back inside.”

You want to tell him no, you want to tell him to wait, you don’t want to go back in, but you can’t find the energy to open your mouth to speak the words. Your body is betraying you, your vision starts to cloud, and you realize darkness is coming for you, even with the sun still high up in sky. You wish more than ever, you could start over again-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“Oh,” you groan, falling forward, unable to hold yourself up. The youngest of the pack wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace before your knees hit the ground.

Jimin looks around, the gem still heavy in his palm. “The necklace,” he murmurs. It didn’t glow red this time and yet-

“Jimin!” The merman hisses, glaring at the vampire who has somehow taken the gem from Yoongi without him noticing, “Don’t move.”

Jimin’s body, and mind, suddenly feel sluggish. It lasts only a moment before the vampire is shaking himself out of the merman’s mind control. Jimin can’t help but laugh at his weak attempt.

“DON’T MOVE,” Yoongi bellows, his words echoing throughout the wolves’ den, and everyone, including Jimin, freezes.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?!” Namjoon grunts, stuck in place by the merman’s words.

“I don’t know how, but he stole that from me, from my pack.” The merman walks with purpose while Jimin struggles to move.

Your eyes go wide when you notice what’s happened. “It’s not his fault,” you mumble, glancing at Namjoon, your eyes and mouth the only part of you able to move, “I think...w-we’re stuck in a time loop.”

“A w-what?” Hoseok grunts, trying with all his might to turn his head.

“W-Well...it’s a lot t-to explain and you’ll probably forget it all anyways,” you whine.

Namjoon raises his brow. He can only slightly move his neck now, and struggles to turn his head to look at you. “Perhaps you should explain anyways. Now.” His tone is serious, potentially menacing if you were being honest.

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know you don’t want him to, shit, what haven't I explained to you yet? Jimin hasn’t actually bitten me yet, well, technically not yet, he has, but it was before I came back, from the future, into now-another time thing.” You start to remember clearly now, though it seems to be still very hard to explain, “Anyways, I know about Jimin’s past! And everything, and-”

“Is she making sense to you?” Hoseok mutters.

“Oh you’re so lucky we haven’t had this conversation before or I would be really blowing your mind,” you grunt.

Jimin’s arms jerk backwards as he fights the merman’s impressive mind control. “It’s mine! Give it back!” Jimin hisses as Yoongi plucks the gem out of the vampire’s hand mere seconds before Jimin regains control of himself again.

“Jimin, we don’t have the time,” you groan, your limbs finally moving again. “Jimin!” you yell, pulling the vampire’s attention away before he attacks the merman in his anger.

You struggle in Jungkook’s arms, holding out your wrist to Jimin hopefully. “You know what you have to do, before it happens again!”

“No!” Jungkook barks, lifting you off your feet to end your advance.

Jimin exhales. This is insufferable, you’re insufferable, you’re, fuck– It’s happening again. He bares his fangs, letting his anger simmer over this constant deja vu.

“Wait! Let me see it, that necklace,” Seokjin steps forward curiously.

Yoongi throws his arm backwards out of the vampire’s reach, the gold chain accidentally hitting your outstretched hand.

The gem touching your finger.

It felt like just a graze, so quickly it couldn’t have been longer than a second. Yet you felt it through your whole body.

And then pulling right behind your ear.

And finally you understood as the brightest flash of red light quickly comes and goes. You hear his voice again, commanding you to do something else, something horrible...

You want to tell them all to run, to escape, but the only words your lips can speak are-

“Taehyung, come in.”

The door shatters, knocking everyone inside to the ground.

The back of your ear feels like it’s on fire and like you summoned the devil himself, Taehyung appears behind you, lifting you up. “Ahh princess, now where did you put my jewel?”

You stand paralyzed by fear, as if gravity chained your limbs to your body.

“Taehyung, leave her alone!” Jungkook roars, and he somehow looks more imposing than the pack leader himself.

Taehyung laughs, looking around incredulously at the monsters surrounding him.

“I’m saving her from you!” He pulls you close and despite your fear, you gravitate to him. It reminds you of Yoongi’s siren song, but more painful, dark, like ropes around your limbs, a noose around your throat. “You would rather use her, draining her life away because you want a pretty pet-” he looks at Seokjin, “-or keep her here on this island, chained like a prisoner, like you did to me! You just can’t see her potential!”

“You...betrayed Jimin...this is all your fault,” you grunt, barely able to speak the words out loud.

Taehyung looks at you, eyes softening. “Your loyalty to my brother is sweet. After everything they did to you. You really are perfect. I knew it when I first met you, we were fated to meet. You were the one who was going to save me, and now I can save you.” He holds you close, embracing you how he always wanted to, no chains or shackles between you anymore. “You saw Jimin’s story and believed him. I’ll show you mine, y/n. You’ll see once and for all.”

Yoongi’s nose is bleeding from the explosion. He has the gem hidden in his palm. He doesn’t quite understand how Taehyung appeared so suddenly, or what the gem has to do with it, but he figures no good will come from Taehyung having it, and he intends to risk everything to keep it away from Taehyung.

He looks at your pain stricken expression and suddenly realizes, no, he can’t risk everything.

“They should have cut off your hands,” Yoongi mutters, wiping away the dried blood from under his nose and standing up. “Thy were too nice to you. When I defeat you I’ll make sure your next cell is underground and twice as small,” the merman tries to goad Taehyung away from you.

“Monster,” Taehyung frowns. “Do you know how many humans he has killed, y/n? How many they’ve all killed? Have I ever killed anyone!” he yells.

“You were going to kill Seokjin!” Jimin argues.

“Seokjin is evil!” he yells back. “And not a human.”

“Okay, Taehyung, you want retribution, we’re all here now. So let y/n go, can’t you see how scared she is?” Namjoon questions, crouching low in fighting stance. His calmness is even more menacing than his anger, you think.

“She doesn’t want me to let her go,” Taehyung smiles, his chin pressing into your shoulder as he continues to hug you close. “Tell them you want to be with me.”

“I want to be with Taehyung,” you cry out, terrified how the words left your lips so quickly, of the way your control is slipping away.

“See, she’s my destiny.” He grins, triumph dripping from his words.

No, no, no. You clutch your chest, where the pain emanates the most, right over your heart.

“Oh, that’s where it went.” Taehyung sighs, petting your head softly. “I’m sorry, one of my attacks must have hit you hard. Let’s go back, out of reach this time. Now, where is my necklace? Tell me, y/n.”

Yoongi, Yoongi has it. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. Yoongi.

You clench your jaw so tight your teeth begin to hurt. “Who took it?” he asks sweetly.

“Yoongi...” You begin to cry. “Please don’t hurt him!”

The merman speaks up, “Oh, he won’t hurt me.”

“You haven’t changed at all, so arrogant, acting like you’re better than everyone else!” Taehyung says, staring at Yoongi’s closed fist. He flicks his wrist over, fingers pulling at the air.

A glowing red light starts emanating from Yoongi’s palm, an inescapable power ready to burst from the tiny gem, red streaks of light between his fingers cut through the wolf’s den, knocking back anything it touches.

Yoongi yells in pain, but he refuses to let go of the necklace.

Unlike the others, when the red light hits Taehyung, he can easily redirect it with his hand, and his beam hits Seokjin, knocking the vampire right in the chest.

You see singes across the eldest vampire’s body, his clothes tattered and deep burn scars across his skin. Yoongi’s hand looks charred too, he yells and doubles over in pain, still fighting to hold onto the necklace. The others are fast, dodging the attacks, but how long can they last?

Hoseok is hit next, he turns into a wolf instantly, charging towards you. Namjoon runs in to attack Taehyung, who shifts your body in front of the leader.

The wolves are trying so hard to save you from Taehyung, it breaks your heart to witness the pain they are going through. How can you save them? Protect them? You feel so useless, so human and fragile. A mere pawn in a game played between kings.

If only there was a way to restart this day again.

“Y/n, don’t,” Taehyung whispers in your ear.

The wolves are too worried for your safety to use their full force, something Taehyung uses to his full advantage as he moves closer to the merman still fighting to hold onto the gem.

Jimin doesn’t care about your safety. He crashes into both of you.

You feel the weight of both men on top of you, suffocating you as Taehyung covers your body with his to take the brunt of the vampire’s wild attacks.

However, Taehyung’s physical strength seems to be unmatched, he throws the vampire as if Jimin weighed nothing with only one arm, the other holding your wrist so you can’t get away.

He moves closer to the struggling merman.

This can’t be happening, it can’t end this way, after everything you’ve been through.

Perhaps it was how close to victory Taehyung had been, so close he was only thinking about the outcome of his winning, the great future ahead of him. He was distracted just enough, and the reigns he had held over you loosened just a bit. It cleared your mind just enough, made you hope, wish for help to come for Yoongi and the others.

Your wish fluttered inside you like a heartbeat, pulling you, and this time, pulling everyone…

Through time…

To a place where the merman had an advantage. Your wish was granted.

The thumping receded and seawater filled every space around you suddenly. You were underwater, deep in the sea. You looked around and saw red and blue flashes of light, the shadows of the beast’s bodies around you, blood like red ribbons leaving their wounds. You slowly kick towards the sky.

How deep are you? You don’t know if you can make it to get in air in time.

You scream, the sound muffled underwater, when fingers reach for your hair, jerking your head down.

It’s Jimin. By the look in his eyes you think he might drain you right here, let you drown in a sea of blood, but he reaches for your hand instead and pulls you to the surface at inhuman speed.

Spluttering, you gasp in air as the ocean lights up the night with streaks of power flashing under water.

“You’re coming with me,” he grunts, dragging your body back to land.

“Yoongi! The others!”

“Hold your breath!” Jimin pulls you back under when Taehyung resurfaces.

You inhale in quickly. You see the sparkling merman’s tail reflecting under water as he attacks Taehyung again.

Red light explodes underwater. Pulsing through the ocean, knocking you back into Jimin. He pulls you away from the fighting, closer to shore until you can stand above water.

You try to keep up, but the night waves crash into your body knocking you off your feet. Jimin drops you into shallow water. You gasp for breath while he looks over you. It reminded you of when you first met him, the way his body is over yours. But his eyes aren’t the same, there’s no hatred in them like before, Jimin looks lost, Jimin looks…sad.

He grabs the front of your dress and rips it, exposing your cleavage. Your arms cover your chest and he yanks those away too. You almost scream, but he doesn’t do anything but look at you. Then his finger traces the scars on your chest, making you shudder. The scar lines form a deep v across your chest, connecting around your neck.

“It was you.” He grips your neck, startling you. “Fix it. Now!”

Moonlight is speckling the ocean’s surface. The water calmer than usual. “Take us back to before Taehyung arrived. Before…” he shudders, looking out at the ocean, up towards the moon angrily. “This is your fault.” Jimin lunges for you, his claws pulled quickly away by Jungkook rushing to your side. Jungkook picks up your exhausted body, wading deeper in the water, glaring at the vampire. “Let’s go.”

“Follow me.” Yoongi yells, further out.

When you reach Yoongi, the youngest reluctantly hands you to him. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“He…took the necklace,” Yoongi says bitterly. “Ready?”

You look at the dark water all around you. “W-Where are we going?”

“My home.”

Yoongi swims down to the sea floor. You hold his hand, let the current and his strong fin lead you to the furthest depths of the ocean.

There’s no light, only the faint sparkling reflection of Yoongi’s tail is visible to your human eyes.

Your feet touch the sandy floor. The pain in your ears lessens the longer Yoongi breathes air into you. It’s an odd feeling, walking the sea floor, a place certainly no other living human could walk alone.

‘Jin.’ Your body stiffens in fright. You see the vampire, lying suspended upon the ocean floor. It frightens you how dead he looks, floating there, but for as long as you’ve known him, Jin has always been dead, hasn't he? Jimin passes, hooking Seokjin’s floating arm over his shoulder and pulling the vampire along.

You reach an underwater cave and swim inside. It’s tunnels are vast. The coral crevices hold things, some are man-made items, some magical.

The coral of the cave winds around, creating tunnels that are compact, walls that are cramped together. It’s dark and lonely inside, there is no light, no warmth. Is this where Yoongi stayed? It makes you feel sorry for the merman, makes you want to fill his life with warmth. He swims around quickly pulling things from inside the pockets of coral.

It’s impressive how the wolves can hold their breath, but even at this depth for so long they are having trouble. Even you are almost out of the air Yoongi gave you.

The merman swims to the cave’s bottom. There’s a purple wooden door situated at the cave floor with a spoked handle. The color reminds you of the one in Seokjin’s office. He begins to turn the vault handle quickly, unlocking the door. You watch, holding your body against one of the coral walls, making sure you don't float away.

You begin to choke on water. The door opens finally and the others rush inside, quickly escaping down into the depths. Yoongi finds you, kissing you. Slowly, taking his time now.

Submerged in the water, floating, he became the only thing that grounded you. You wish you could speak underwater and tell him how sorry you were for letting Taehyung inside, for causing this all to happen. You kept your lips pressed to his, hoping to convey how apologetic you felt. Yoongi hugs you close and dives into the vault.

You break the surface of the water, somehow right side up now. You wipe the water away from your face as Yoongi holds you to him. You look around the small cave, a part of the underground cave system inside the island. You look down at your bodies still submerged in the water, you should be upside down. How is that possible?

It never ceases to amaze you, the magicalness of this place.

“How is he?” you call out.

“I’ve seen better days.” The vampire in question grunts. Seokjin has definitely seen better days, the usually put together vampire is the most beaten you’ve ever seen him, lying on the cave floor unable to move.

“Jin, would it help?” you offer your wrist to him. You were the only human here.

Seokjin swallows, “Yes.”

“Let me help him,” you beg the others. Namjoon lifts you out of the cave pool. Everyone looks so beaten they don't fight you, they stay silent as you make your way to Seokjin.

“Are you sure, Dove?” he grunts.

You nod, lying against him, finally letting your tired muscles relax. Seokjin drank from you countless of times before, what’s one more?

---

Jimin breaks Seokjin’s jade statue, smashing it to pieces.

“Get away from me!” he screams, “w-who are you?!”

You see Seokjin and Namjoon standing next to him. And you see Hoseok. You see Taehyung.

“Is it normal to forget?” Taehyung asks, watching Jimin curiously.

“No…no,” Seokjin swallows. Had Seokjin really been too late to save Jimin?

Jimin screams and screams, clawing at his throat. It’s dry and itchy, he feels like he’s burning from the inside out. “Stop. Stop it!” The pain won’t stop!

“He needs blood,” Hoseok says, his tone urgent and worried.

“If we bring someone to the island, he’s not going to be able to control himself.”

“I’ll find someone no one will miss,” Hoseok suggests.

“No, it’s still a life.” Namjoon interjects, watching the display, clenching his jaw when Jimin screams again.

“And what about Jimin?!” Hoseok argues. “What about his life?!” You can feel his anger, you feel it too within Seokjin.

“If it’s someone who deserves it, someone bad?” Taehyung speaks up, wincing as he watches his friend writhe in pain.

“Let’s go hunt one last time, old friend,” Seokjin mumbles, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes, watching instead the horrible state Jimin is in.

“Okay, okay.”

It was an easier find than they had thought. During a dark club night, the music boomed as a regular flirted with a young woman. Upon entering the club, Namjoon and Seokjin noticed all the tell tale signs immediately, the signs of a predator..

While Namjoon bumped into the couple, and riled up the man by cozying up to his unsuspecting victim, Seokjin quickly switched their drinks, the one the man had spiked for his date switched with his clean one. While the drug worked its magic, you looked around the club, listening to old music. You watched the bodies on the dance floor move together in almost one fluid motion. You missed it, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve had that kind of fun. Your heart raced as the beat of the song quickened, as urgency ran through the vampire’s cold veins instead of blood. You want to dance. You want to kill that man. You want to save Jimin. Complicated emotions filter through Seokjin and into you.

Your mouth goes slack as you press your body closer, your hands fisting Seokjin’s tattered shirt. “You’re taking too much!” Namjoon barks.

“I’m sorry.” Seokjin licks your wounds clean as your vision goes hazy and you slump against him. No, you wanted to see more, to listen to more-

---

“Where are you, sweetheart?”

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung covers your cheek with his hand. “Tell me where you are so I can find you, get you away from them.”

“No! You stay away from them!”

Taehyung’s arms cage you in, his body above yours. “Y/n, please,” he begs, lowering himself over you. “I can leave the island now, but I don't want to go, not without you.” He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you close to him in a suffocating embrace. “Please come with me, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Despite everything, you feel sorry for him as he shakes against you.

No, no, no! He’s the same man who tried to betray Seokjin. What would he have done to Jimin if he had succeeded? What is he going to do to you? You press against his shoulders, trying to push him off of you. Taehyung covers your lips with his own, lessening your resolve.

His lips work a different kind of magic, he presses his tongue inside your mouth, runs it over your own, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. You grip his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or closer. He kisses you for so long you wonder how he hasn’t broken away to take a breath, you wonder why you don’t have the need to either.

You gasp when Taehyung decides to move lower down your body, his lips licking across your neck. By now, he’s made sure to keep you locked to him, holding onto both your wrists so you can’t push against him. Even when he shifts his digits and intertwines your fingers, he keeps his weight heavy on you.

“It’s not fair, I can only have you in my dreams like this,” he chuckles against your skin. “Please be with me. Together we can explore the whole world, do whatever we want.” Taehyung was so excited to see all the new technology you had described to him during your long visits. He wants to experience it all with you.

You take in a ragged breath, suppressing a moan every time he sucks and rolls his tongue over your skin. “Promise me you won’t hurt them.”

“I promise.”

You don’t believe him.

You can’t believe him.

It feels like a lie, it all feels like a lie.

“Where are you?”

“In a cave.”

“There are thousands of caves on the island, do you know where?”

“I d-don’t know.”

It’s true you don't know, but there are words you could use to describe the cave. You could tell Taehyung how you got there, about Yoongi’s magical door. But you bite those words down, hiding the whole truth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” He rests his forehead against yours, runs his thumb over your kiss bitten lips. He can't wait to have you, to mark you, to make you like him.

You touch the necklace dangling from Taehyung’s neck, and he rips your hand away, gripping your wrist so tightly you can feel the pressure in your bones.

Fear trickles down your spine and catches in your throat once you realize how entangled you are to him, how easily he could hurt you if he wanted to. The Taehyung you knew had been so unthreatening, like a lonely puppy tied to a tree, only wanting attention.

The shackles took away any threatening aura, you only ever felt safe with him, you hadn't yet known what he was capable of...

Taehyung feels your heart beat jumping against his lips. “You’re scared of me, why?” he frowns. “Have I ever given you a reason to believe I would ever hurt you? Jimin hurt you, Seokjin hurt you,” he adds.

You swallow, unable to answer him. He’s right.

“If you hated Seokjin so much...why did you want to become like him?”

Taehyung holds you loosely now, smiling softly. “You know...Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook, their powers slow their aging, but one day, they’re going to grow old, they’re going to grow weak. They’re going to die,” he hums.

“T-That’s no excuse-”

“Sometimes we have to lose everything to gain everything.”

“Is that what you told Jimin before you took everything from him?!”

“Seokjin’s affliction really did rub off on you. What will you say when you make him remember and he still wants to rip your throat out?”

You swallow, silenced by his words.

“Tell me where you are so I can protect you,” he presses his lips upon the column of your neck tenderly.

“T-The cave-”

“Yes?” Taehyung runs his tongue along your throat, enjoying the way you tremble against him.

“-a d-door-”

His hands knead your side, up your body, gripping your mounds, caressing your suppleness.

“A door? Invite me in then, sweetheart.”

Your fingers tangle his hair, pulling him closer to you. Then run down his neck, slipping under his necklace.

You yank the gold chain, screaming.

---

“You’re awake,” Jungkook says happily. You’re lying nestled in between bodies, warm in the otherwise cold and dark cave. “Are y-you okay?”

You close your eyes, calming down, shaking your head, worried your words won’t be your own.

Namjoon holds your hand, “Y/n, can you tell us anything about what happened to the watch I gave you?”

Your hand cups your neck, where Seokjin’s bite is now healed over. “T-Taehyung, he said he would ‘fix’ the watch for me. He must have, because...it must have been, three months ago? I found that red amulet, it was from Seokjin’s shop, it appeared in my hand and then I heard Taehyung’s voice in my head, and…and I-I had no control...” You remember it clearly now, “The watch took me back in time and broke as soon as I used it.”

You look down at your hands. “But I still had the one I hadn’t used yet, from this time…” you say, absentmindedly touching your collarbone out of reflex. “When the explosion happened, I-I don’t know, I-I lost them.” Namjoon inspects your neck, gently adjusting the torn fabric of your dress.

He looks over his shoulder, where the merman lazily swims in the cave pool. “Yoongi?” he asks.

“The stronger the magic, the more uncontrollable it becomes. If Taehyung’s attack hit her...and the watch…anything could be possible.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Does that human brain of yours not work at all anymore?” Hoseok complains, sitting at the top of your head, looking down at you with crossed arms. “The watch’s magic, it’s inside you.”

“...what,” you ask horrified. You trace the scars across your chest, running up your clavicle and around your neck.

“You were trying to protect yourself from Taehyung,” Yoongi says knowingly. “You took us forward in time.”

Yoongi had noticed the stronger tides, looked up at the moon, and realized the phase had shifted 4 days ahead.

But how could that be? Then when he mentioned it to the others, they all realized…

“I-I can’t control it.”

“And we’re not even sure what it does to her when she uses it,” Hoseok says, concerned, thinking the worst. There is no telling what will happen to you in the end, are you losing hours off your life? Days?

“Where’s Jimin?”

“Cooling off, taking a late night swim.” Seokjin sighs. “Dove, what happened between you and Jimin in this future of yours that makes you think he will be so cooperative?”

It felt wrong, telling his story, intimate memories that he didn’t even have the chance to see yet. “His past…”

“You know his whole past?” Hoseok asks. You nod. “And you trust him? After everything you know?”

“You don’t know what he’s been through! Taehyung-”

“They worked together to betray us all,” Hoseok scoffed.

You shake your head. “Taehyung knew Jimin before he knew you, Hoseok.” You’ve seen enough of their memories together to see how protective Hoseok had been over Taehyung. But the secrets Jimin and Taehyung had kept weren’t even knowledgeable to Jimin anymore.

“No-”

“Yes.”

“Did you know about this?” Hoseok turns to his pack leader.

He shakes his head no, “They acted like strangers. Did you know?” Namjoon turns to Seokjin.

“He didn’t speak much of his childhood, even when he was human.” Seokjin hums, “The few memories of his childhood I pulled did not have any indication they knew each other. They had only become close after Jimin was turned.”

“No, they were always close.” you say, sure of yourself. “I can’t prove it, yet, but I don’t think what happened was an accident,” you look at Hoseok. “It wasn’t your fault you lost control, Hoseok.”

Hoseok's eyes start to shine in the shadows of the cave as tears well up. “No,” he says in disbelief. It was his fault. He turned Taehyung into a beast like him, and he’s never forgiven himself because of it.

He shakes his head, unable to let your words really hit him.

“Well, we can only learn the whole truth from Jimin himself. Help me this time, please?”

---

Jimin returns later than usual, right before sunrise, his mind no less at ease.

“Well, it almost worked last time.”

Has Seokjin been drinking from you this whole time?! Jimin scoffs, settling himself away from you and the others.

Seokjin does it messily, letting the blood drip down your shoulder, covering your chest in the red liquid.

You let a soft whimper escape your lips, moaning. Seokjin’s hand moves from your hip to resting between your legs

“Are you going to be doing that all day?!” Jimin barks, his words echoing in the small cave.

“You haven’t drank in a while, brother. Come drink.” Jimin swallows hard, smelling your blood, the sweet iron scent fills the cave. He remembers the previous time loop, the taste of your blood still a strong memory. It never happened, he hasn’t really tasted you, yet that’s now all he can think about. He remembers it distantly like a dream. Or rather a nightmare, how can you possibly be this annoying to him without even trying? Jimin silently seethes as his throat becomes itchier and drier.

Jimin looks over at the wolves, who seem to be minding their own business. There is no way they are not affected by this...lewd display! He narrows his eyes on Hoseok, the jealous one, who sits crossed-legged and crossed-arms, eyes closed and jaw clenched.

“You’re joking?”

“No, I saw them do it before with other girls,” you mutter, unable to meet Hoseok's eyes, “in Seokjin’s memories.”

Jungkook rests his head against the pack leader’s shoulder, shaking his legs to a song in his head he is using to distract himself, and Namjoon acts completely unaffected. Jimin scoffs, Namjoon sure has the best poker face, but Jimin knows this is bothering the pack. They probably finally figured out they’re weaker ones amongst them, Jimin thinks.

“Well if you won’t, then I will.” Namjoon speaks up.

Namjoon pulls your leg, pulling you closer to him as he crawls over you. His strong hands press your legs open so he can settle in between them.

“You know my kind bites too. We don’t do it to suck blood, our bite is different. But, I wouldn’t mind eating you up,” Namjoon teases, his deep voice even deeper in his gruffness.

You know this is just an act, but your heart escalates at the thought, remembering the younger werewolf acting so brazenly. Devious suits Namjoon so well, the roughness in his nature is so attractive.

Jimin grits his teeth at such a revolting thought.

“You’re just going to let him put his filthy paws all over her? You’re going to hand her over just like that?”

“I haven’t let her go.” Seokjin caresses your temples, smearing blood across your face. “We used to do this all the time. I’ve gotten used to Namjoon’s scent.”

Jimin looks away, looking for the merman, someone else he can yell at.

“Joon, wait. Jimin, did you want to drink from me instead?”

“No thanks,” Jimin hisses.

You look back at Namjoon. Seokjin lifts your hand to his mouth, biting down on the fleshy part of your palm. It hurts, he is usually better at making the pain feel pleasurable, but his objective isn’t your pleasure, it’s to cause maximum blood flow, to make you cry out in pain, knowing your whimpers will entice Jimin the most.

Namjoon’s lets his teeth scrape across your thigh. “Shh little Dove.” He uses the pet name Seokjin gave you. “Don’t cry, I’ll make you sing.”

It’s so hot in this goddamn cave. The smell of everyone’s arousal is assaulting, inescapable.

“My turn next,” Hoseok calls out.

“I’m going to mark her as my mate,” Jungkook growls, eyes darkened at the sight of you writhing in pleasure and pain.

Jimin has had it. He has had to endure being in their company for this long, but now the dogs want to defile what is his? Yes, you are his and Seokjin’s! They paid fairly for you, you would be dead if it were not for them. You are theirs! You are his. And you are the only human left on this damned island, Jimin had searched all night for any signs of life to no avail.

“I’m going to rip out your teeth,” Jimin threatens lowly.

“Did you say something?” Hoseok says flippantly.

“You don’t think I know what you’re all doing?”

You look between yourselves in silence.

“You’re just giving up! Taehyung really turned you into a bunch of cowardly dogs. You’re just gonna stay in this cave like a bunch of animals in heat while Taehyung does god knows what!?”

You continue to look between yourselves in silence.

He points at you. “She said if I bit her, we could stop Taehyung!” He yanks you to your feet so hard you feel the whiplash in your bones. “Isn’t that right? SO WHY ARE YOU WASTING YOUR PRECIOUS TIME WITH THEM?!” Jimin yells so loud his words echo over and over again.

You blink. “You’re right, Jimin.”

Jimin moves behind you, tilting your head. He licks the old blood off your shoulder, suppressing a groan at the taste. “If this doesn’t work-” he growls.

“It will.”

“Then I wont stop until it does.” All your blood will be Jimin’s one way or another.

He licks his lips before sinking his teeth into the column of your neck.

---

Just like that, you and Jimin revisit his bedroom, a memory you both shared, your past and his future had Taehyung’s plan not have worked.

Jimin roars, pulling away. Your body spasms with too much blood loss. Jimin looks down, your blood covering his body, his pants undone. How is he in bed with you? He was just in the merman’s cave, drinking your blood.

No, he is in the merman’s cave. This is a memory.

Jimin remembers.

He gently turns your body over. Your breathing is ragged, strained, your eyes try to focus on the vampire above you.

Now you remember, it was the first time Jimin looked at you without hatred in his eyes. Tearing the flesh from his arm, he puts the wound over your mouth and you drink until your body relaxes. Then cautiously, Jimin lowers himself over you again, ready to see more.

---

Jin steps closer, followed by the rest of the men.

Was Jimin still drinking from you?

Neither of you made any movement.

You both fell to your knees with Jimin’s fangs deep in your neck, your eyes glazed over and out of focus.

“What happened?” Namjoon whispers to the eldest vampire. He wasn’t quite sure, neither of you were responsive, both lost in your heads.

“Little Dove?”

---

I am so excited to write some backstory finally!!! Are you excited for the next chapter?

#bts smut #bts hybrid au #ot7 x reader #bts hybrid smut #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #bts vampire au #bts fantasy au

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 7 months ago

Text

Vampire's Kiss | Chapter Four

Pairing | Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 5,6k

Warnings | +18, MC and Jungkook joke a lot, fluff and some sensuality (smut in the next chapter 🤧) but also angst, provocation and threat at work, one of MC's bosses doesn't seem like a very good person 💀 (JK where are you?)

⤷ Summary | Humans have finally unveiled and accepted the centuries-old existence of vampires, in a modern world people share their lives with these peculiar and mysterious creatures, but it is not all roses.

Will two souls belonging to such different species be able to be together?

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! 🥹❤️

I'm finally back with a new chapter of VK, if you've read my previous posts then you'll know that I'm really writing a lot of stories at the moment that I can't wait for you to read, so I hope you enjoy this chapter in the meantime ❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie @peterstarkchrishiddleston @reallygenerouskoala @btsuga-d @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @velvet-stardust2002 @ke1k029 @kylafox09 @pantara @takemeaway5402 @jkslaugh97

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It has officially been two weeks since your acquaintance with Jungkook began and things are going well. You just need to find a way to communicate to your family that ... well, their firstborn is seriously considering marriage to a vampire. Not that they have the right to decide for you or anything, and you also know that your mother would support you in anything, but the real big hurdles to overcome answer to the names of Dad and Mirae.

They will not be happy with such news, your sister might even try to assassinate him at the first possible opportunity, you shudder at the very thought of such a thing, you hope that Jungkook's beauty will divert her from committing such actions.

You are just thinking of calling your mother when the phone starts ringing nonstop, you check the name on the display and a smile arises spontaneously.

<<To what do I owe the honor of this call, Mr. Jeon?>>.

You hear laughter on the other end of the line, <<Uhm...I don't know, maybe I have good news for my sweet little human?>>.

You blush at the last words, but decide to tease him a little, <<Mr. Jeon finally decided to date yours truly?>>.

It is not unusual for company managers to work overtime, but Jungkook is working far too much of it. You haven't seen him since that evening at the beach spent exchanging first kisses and promises, since which time his schedule has become so busy as to be intolerable, at least for you.

You hear a whine on the other end of the phone, much like the whine of a puppy.

<<I don't like this distance either.... Seokjin is busy with wedding preparations and has left everything to us, Jimin is getting more and more distracted and it's up to me to sort out the messes he makes, sorry, it's hellish days>> it's not hard for you to imagine why Jimin is so uncaring, with parents like his there's a lot to lose your mind.

<<All right, all right... it's just that I miss you>> you mumble shyly covering your face, even though you are in the copy room and there is no one there to watch you.

<<Don't say that... this is where the good stuff comes in, Jimin has made Jin aware of the situation your company is in, a meeting has been arranged and it is likely that we will meet there>>.

You widen your eyes, trying to suppress the shriek that almost escapes your mouth. Jimin really did his part! When you see him again, you will jump on his neck to crush him in a strong hug.

And then... Jungkook will see where you work. You will meet as colleagues and ... e... oh, dear. You imagine him in a suit and tie, it must be such a sexy sight to-.

<> he hums like a nightingale, making your heart flutter.

<<What? I'm not imagining anything at all>> you immediately get defensive, unable to control the tremor in your tone.

<<So you didn't just imagine me in a suit and tie, did you?>> but what the fuck-, <<And you didn't imagine our eyes meeting with longing, me taking you by the hand ... to lead you into the copy room in the throes of a sudden urge, locking the door behind us to be left alone, you and me, in the complete intimacy of darkness>> you stare around alarmed, but what the fuck-.

<<How did you know I was in the copy room?>>.

<>.

He wants to kill you or what, exactly?! Then to say such things while you are clearly in working hours, where everyone could hear him talking like that... that guy is your pleasurable torture.

<<This wonderful girl might decide to close the phone in your face in case you don't stop saying such nonsense!>> you blurt out with burning ears, cautiously looking at the door.

<<You won't, if you like me at least a little, you won't>> he says with great conviction.

You rest your back against the wall.

<>.

You close your eyelids and in the darkness that greets you you see him, sitting behind his desk with the phone handset pressed to his ear, a grin plastered on those perpetually rosy lips, his big dark eyes scrolling across the screen of his company computer. In your fantasy he has the first buttons of his shirt open, his long, wavy hair instead pulled back, leaving on display that pristine forehead on which you would have left a million kisses.

<>.

You nod, that may be enough for the moment, <>.

<<So... shall we make it the day after tomorrow?>>.

What?

<<What? What, the day after tomorrow?>> you croak in panic, not understanding what he is referring to.

<<Our date, of course! I want to take you somewhere nice, I've neglected you too much>>.

You smile smugly, suddenly calming down, <<Wow, Jeon Jungkook... you're just the boy of my dreams>>.

<> you giggle confusedly, who the heck is Yoongi?

The two of you say an unceremonious goodbye, according to him Yoongi is already in danger of throwing up his breakfast and wants to prevent that from happening.

You take the long-made photocopies from the machine and start to open the door, when you lift your eyes to the figure behind it you immediately jump in fright.

“Yoongyu! Goodness, what are you doing there?” you ask with one hand pressed at heart level, he stares at you strangely with his thin eyes reproachfully.

“Are you dating Jeon Jungkook, Y/N? I hope you know what he is,” you sigh, printing a fake smile on your face.

“A vampire? Yes, I know what he is and I don't care.”

You try to go around him to go straight for your own way, but he holds you by the shoulder, your heart churning anxiously as you cast a glance at his hand in amazement. What on earth is he doing?

Firmly you shrug him off, casting him a warning glance.

“I don't know what your problem is, but you have no right to put your hands on me like that, I hope this never happens again” your mind is stuck on what to do and not to do, he is your superior, but the two of you have always maintained a friendly relationship, even after your breakup. But it is also true that after that breakup he had never again allowed himself to touch you, not even in a gesture of greeting, so what the heck is wrong with him now?

He does not seem disturbed by your words, in fact, he smiles at them, “Are you going to let a vampire do it for me, then? Think about it, I put more than just a hand on you in the past, and I gave you all the time you needed to come back to me, now you come out seeing a vampire? And then, what? Are you going to look for a way to bring little monsters like him into the world? Don't be ridiculous and come back to me,” he tries again to touch you, this time stroking a lock of your hair, but once again you push him away.

Inside you feel like you're dying, your stomach is twisting from a sickening feeling. Who did you get so close to?

All the happiness you felt during your conversation with Jungkook has vanished into the air, in front of you is a real monster, one of those that hides in the shadows with a nice reassuring smile, posing as a human.

“Move over, Director. I don't have time to waste with you.”

He shakes his head, behind his eyes you can read irritation.

“You treat one of your superiors like this? Valentine had told me about this vampire fixation of yours, I investigated convinced it was just one of her usual nonsense, instead it's all true...I never expected such behavior from you, have you already forgotten me so easily with one of them?” you swallow your own air, you don't even have any saliva left to swallow, you stare over his shoulder in search of any exit, but block the passage entirely, there was little you could do.

“We ended our acquaintance because we wanted different things, do you remember that?”

“Yes, the excuse that you wanted something serious and I didn't... bullshit, the only obstacle at the moment is my mother, she wants me to marry an heiress, I could never let her down so I had decided to let you go... but to hear that you will so quietly give yourself to a bloodsucker fills me with anger, am I really that forgettable to you?”

You look at him in dismay, not only because he is talking to you so arrogantly, but also because of all the mean things he is spewing about vampires, about Jungkook.

“I'm telling you again, get out of my way before I scream,” you hiss forcefully despite your trembling legs, you know you'd have little to do against him, but that wouldn't stop you from defending yourself should the need arise, his status be damned.

But to your surprise he shifts, although his expression remained insolent.

“I need you to make a decision, don't make me wait too long, I'll be around for you.”

You take a big breath, trying to calm down, “I've already made a decision, I'm going to get on with my life and you need to stay out of it, before I report you,” you answer him harshly, before hurriedly stepping over him, returning to your office, ignoring his derisive chuckle.

There you find Valentine talking on the phone absentmindedly, your anger goes into your bloodstream as soon as you realize how quiet she is, despite the situation she has put you in, and you find your outlet, suddenly one of your hands slams down on the desk hard, right in front of her, who jumps in fright and stares at you shocked, as if you have suddenly gone crazy, hastily closes the call and then yells at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you!”

“How dare you tell Yoongyu my personal affairs! I don't think you had the right!” you are deaf to the pain in your hand, at that moment you would love to encircle her neck with your hands so that you could choke her with extreme comfort, but you try to control yourself.

Valentine pales, “W-Wait a minute! He was the one who asked me for information!”

Information?

“Information of what kind, Valentine?” you growl at her.

She wrings her hands in agitation, there you realize she's done more than just blurt out your experiences with boys lately.

“He wanted to know if you were dating ... and I told him you're hooked on that vampire app by now!” then she also says more, to your horror, ”He also wanted your personal phone number, said it was an emergency because he couldn't reach you on the one you use for work, and then ...”

Fuck, what else would there be?

“She asked me where you usually went out to eat when you went out, I thought you'd like to be wooed by someone like him, you're too hung up on those vampires, and Yoongyu is handsome, rich, and most of all, human!” she exclaims as if you have to necessarily agree with her. You, on the other hand, are realizing more and more that you have been working all this time with an unconscious madwoman.

“Maybe he didn't have my phone number because I didn't want him to have it? Did it seem smart to you to give it to him without even asking my consent, you jolly goose! Besides, you don't get to decide who I should or should not date! Get it through that empty head of yours!”

“What else could I do? He's the boss here and what he wants he'll get, don't think I wanted to give it to him so easily anyway! I resisted at first!”

You bring your hands to your face, betrayed so foolishly by one who should know absolutely nothing about you in the first place, fucking camaraderie among colleagues, “Don't you dare lie to me so shamelessly, we all know that everything you come to know then the rest of the building knows!”

Evidently your rant must have hurt her, since she leaves the office crying, but at that moment it matters little to you; you have much else to think about now. You collapse in your chair, exhausted. This is something to be taken seriously, so you have to talk to someone about it? Should you report it, so that if something happened to you, suspicion would be immediately on him?

And should you let Jungkook know about this situation?

Shake your head immediately, you need calm. You can't ruin someone's career in case it was words dictated solely by the anger of the moment, his distaste for vampires has poisoned his good judgment, that's all.

Nothing was going to happen.

Plus there was confidence between you, perhaps he thought you would not be bothered by that attitude of his, no matter how villainous.

But despite those thoughts, the next few hours are hell.

Once you leave work you begin to look around circumspectly, see shadows where there are none and hear nonexistent voices in the stretches of road with fewer people, because you forgot your car keys at home, leading you to make the foolish decision to ride the bus to work because of your laziness?

Do your shoulders curve under the weight of anxiety, are you in trouble?

Exactly two days have passed, nothing of all that you feared has happened. No disturbing messages, no harassing calls, and especially no shadows to haunt you every time you turn a corner. You were right, Yoongyu was all smoke and mirrors, fortunately.

With a calmer mind you continue to prepare for the evening you'll spend with Jungkook, let your hair down on your shoulders, treating it with the best products for its care, you want it to be soft and shiny for him. As for the dress, well, you chose it carefully. You don't know where it will take you, so your choice fell on a high-waisted sugar paper-colored, knee-length, simple and very pretty little dress with matching white heeled shoes and very natural makeup. You nod at your own reflection, you are proud of your appearance that night and nothing will change your opinion.

You take your handbag with everything you need and add a light white stole to it, the weather has been crazy in the last period and from practically summer days it has turned to very cold nights.

As if in a sort of Déjà Vu the doorbell rings gently to let you know there is someone waiting for you, you let out a sigh and arrived at the door you look through the peephole just in case, your eyes follow the smile that immediately opens on your face, this time it is not Jimin your knight.

You open the door wide and a wonderful floral smell invades you, the beautiful bouquet of flowers blocks your view and does not allow you to properly look at the boy who in a short time has become important in your life, you can make out white carnations and red and purple tulips on a bed of primroses, you take the colorful bouquet in your arms and inhale its scent, finally catching sight of Jungkook's angelic face.

“Hello, baby,” he murmurs as he looks at you spellbound, you have to fight against the fire that threatens to pervade your face, and to do so you hide almost completely behind the flowers that in moments cover you entirely.

“Hello to you, Mr. Jeon,” you drink in every detail of his appearance, from the growing hair let loose on his forehead to the jeans that bandage his well-shaped and toned legs, not to mention his chest that barely manages to be contained by the buttons on his navy blue shirt or the thin gold necklace that highlights his perfect neck.

“Before I got here I wanted to take you to dinner, now I'm of the opinion that it would be much better to stay home,” you try to suppress a laugh at the sight of his eyes trying, in vain, not to scan you like an infrared camera.

“Am I not suitable for a date with Jeon Jungkook?”

He shakes his head sorrowfully, “You are so beautiful that I will have to restrain myself from jumping at the throat of anyone who dares to look at you and desire you.”

Those words astonish you in no small way, it's the first time you've heard him say something like that, and in fact he winces.

“I really wouldn't do that, of course! It's against the law to kill, j-just kidding,” he clarifies nervously, blinking slowly.

He said 'It's against the law to kill,' instead of the usual and more typical 'I wouldn't hurt even a fly.'

This is meant to imply that in case of need he would be no trouble, and this strangely doesn't scare you, far from it, it makes you feel protected. He is a vampire, not a human being, and you appreciate every trait of him, from the most human to the most animalistic, even though Jungkook has never shown any of these.

You've never even seen him drink a single drop of blood and he doesn't seem willing to touch the subject, Jimin on the contrary has been happy to explain to you how the issue of nourishment works for vampires, perhaps Jungkook still doesn't feel comfortable with you.

“Jungkook, it is not and will never be a problem for me to hear you say such things, I have said worse in the past,” and it is all true, many times you have hoped that an axe would fall on the head of the usual boy who flirted with you in high school, or that the stupid, lackluster girl in the books would for once twist her ankle on those stilts she dared to call ‘shoes,’ whenever she came to school to threaten you with making her copy your tests.

“Oh, I should think so,” he takes a step toward you, stroking the tip of your nose with a finger in an affectionate gesture, ‘You sure have the face of someone who will never let anyone step on her toes,’ he nods amused, and you give him credit, because that's just the way it is.

You ask him to wait for you there, looking for a vase to put the expensive-looking flowers in, and when you come back you encircle his neck closing your eyes, sticking out your lips in what is a mute request, the kiss is not long in coming and you again enjoy the typical coldness of his soft lips, but this does not detract from the emotional warmth you feel, he is a careful and thoughtful kisser, one of those you can hardly forget.

When he pulls away his eyes are still half-closed and adoring, this makes you quiver internally.

“Can we go now?”

You nod without letting him tell you twice, and arm in arm with him you walk to his car parked a few meters away from your house, during the short walk you notice that your body is warmed only by his clothes, not his skin, how different can he be from you? Curiosity eats at you like a woodworm, you would love to ask him more about his species, but any time seems unsuitable for such a topic.

He gently opens the door for you, waiting for you to get in, and then goes around to the driver's side, in the car you can still detect a whiff of the floral scent that greeted you earlier in the house.

“What's with the flowers?” you ask, he gives you a puzzled look before starting the engine.

“Don't you like them?” he asks in turn, but you quickly deny it.

“Actually a lot, but it's been a while since I've received any, nowadays such gestures are considered too common and people don't do them anymore,” you sigh, maybe you're too old-fashioned, but you've been pleasantly impressed by them.

“It's people who give them a trivial meaning, flowers don't deserve to be called “common stuff”!” he exclaims seriously indignant, you burst out laughing and his gaze becomes confused, ”Why are you laughing? I'm serious!”

“Sorry, sorry! It's just... I don't know, maybe you were born in an era where no one would ever question certain romantic gestures and now you're nervous, you're so cute” you keep laughing with your hands in your face, trying to hold back, but after a few moments he too joins in.

“You're making me feel so old, I like flowers regardless of where and when I was born,” he clarifies proudly, leaving again when the traffic light kicks off, the city lights are so bright it looks like daytime, the little stores are still open, but few people are seen around at that hour.

“If only you would tell me exactly how old you are...” you throw in briefly, Jungkook shoots you a piercing glance from the mirror, you shrug your shoulders.

“Hey, you're smart ... but a hundred days haven't gone by yet.”

“Antipathetic...” you mutter in a low voice, sticking out your lower lip, he laughs at you, shaking his head.

After that he stops the car not far from a restaurant, it looks very nice and elegant, not obnoxiously glitzy, but intimate. Just the place for a date.

Out of the car he takes your hand, leading you past the small road and then toward the entrance, your footsteps ticking along with his quieter, more regular ones, he seems a little excited and how can you blame him? You're so flustered you think you won't eat anything, then again, it's Jungkook and you can safely be yourself.

A waiter comes up to you smiling, your attention immediately falls on the two front teeth that are sharper than the others, you study the environment, noticing how the colors are as warm as they are dark. Also, people whisper to each other, not letting you know what they were saying to human ears.

“Two days ago I made a reservation for two,” Jungkook is saying to the boy, who nods, asking him under what name he registered the reservation, although he seems to know Jungkook, perhaps he is a regular client. Past that part you are escorted to your table, which overlooks the restaurant's inner garden.

Jungkook pays no attention to the people who take to observing both of you after you pass their tables; you do. Their attention seems to be all on you, and you wish you had read the name of the restaurant so you could do your dutiful research, because it seems anything but a place habitually frequented by humans.

Not that there's any problem for you, but you don't want to be disruptive to the vampires present, you humans have a particular kind of smell that only they smell, which they might like as much as exactly the opposite.

Jungkook gently pulls your chair aside and you thank him with a nod; small candles have been scattered throughout the room, making the atmosphere more intimate.

“Do you like it?” he asks, pointing to the place.

“It's very nice, do you come here often?” investigation mode activated.

“It's my friend's restaurant, Taehyung, I've been a regular client since it opened, about...” he suddenly freezes, raising an eyebrow, “I know what you want to do, I'm not going to tell you when it opened,” he mutters, picking up his menu.

You snort through your nose; if he had told you how many years the restaurant has been open, you might have guessed roughly his age.

His dark eyes scan all the dishes on the menu very slowly, you're sure he knows that menu by heart, he's just wasting his time not to confront you, shaking his head you also take your menu and just follow his same actions.

There are many meat dishes, and it says in a note that they give the option to choose the type of cooking the client likes, clearly a vampire would have chosen a juicy, rare cut of meat, but you are not a vampire, so you choose a Korean dish that involves well-cooked meat.

“How was work?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you.

“Real hell, I told you Jin is busy with the wedding, right? That made Yoongi go ballistic,” he says contritely.

“Why? Wedding preparations are important!”

Jungkook looks around for a moment, then leans toward you with one hand covering his mouth, “Jin's brain has been more watered down lately than usual, he takes orders from his girlfriend and doesn't complain about it, the wedding was meant for next year, but that viper insisted it happen earlier and that messed up our schedule, we have more work than before, and Yoongi, our section chief, has been having nervous breakdowns several times.”

You bring a hand to your mouth trying not to laugh; it's the first time you've heard someone talk like that about Kim Seokjin. It must be nice to work with people with friendly faces, you think back to your situation with that fool Valentine and Yoongyu, a weight settles on your stomach.

“I wish I had friends at work, too, but instead I'm stuck with a moron who does everyone's business and even gets them into trouble.”

“Why settle for friends when you can have a boyfriend at work?”

The waiter arrives to bring you a bottle of red wine and water, beginning to pour the scarlet liquid inside the crystal glass, staring at Jungkook with plenty of eyes.

“What... What do you mean?” you stammer taking a sip of wine, Jungkook looks amused.

“What I said, from the way you talked about it you don't sound very satisfied with your job and I could use an assistant for photocopying,” he gives you a brief wink before drinking in turn.

You watch spellbound as you watch the sensual movement of his neck following the swallowing of the dark, full-bodied liquid; perhaps because of the alcohol, or perhaps just from the presence of the man, your body tingles uncomfortably.

You settle back in your chair, pulling the skirt of your dress lower, trying to cover both of your heated thighs. You certainly won't need the stole that night.

“Don't be silly, in that case I'd be your boss, not the assistant who prepares the photocopies,” you taunt him a little, he taps a finger on the table, his expression not changing, he's still wearing that slapping face.

“Oh, but photocopying would be a valid excuse to do much more, the use of a small key is the trick” what is he getting at?

You haven't even gotten beyond kissing and already he's talking about what you might be up to in the office. In front of a lot of vampires who can hear you talking then, has he gone mad?

“What are you getting at, Mr. Jeon?”

The waiter arrives to bring your dishes, Jungkook has chosen a rare steak, of course, but that doesn't make him look away from you.

Jungkook waits for the young man to leave before responding.

“Everywhere. I want to get everywhere, with you,” then quietly takes knife and fork waving you to start eating, you have to impose mental barriers on yourself not to think of dirty things that might turn you on more than before. Jungkook's words were crystal clear, as was the meaning behind them.

“Have you read Fifty Shades of Grey lately? You look like its protagonist,” you casually ask, before you take a bite, the flesh though well-cooked melts like butter and you almost groan with pleasure.

You don't know this friend of his, but boy, would you thank him for opening that restaurant, everything is really good.

Jungkook meanwhile wrinkles his nose, “Please, I'm so much better than that Christian Grey!”

You mock him, “You think so, and yet, you look like something out of that book.”

One of his eyebrows snaps upward, “How can I prove otherwise?”

You pretend you didn't hear him, so you change the subject.

“This date is also a chance to get to know each other more, right? So I can ask you everything,” he snorts through his nose, bringing his back to better observe you.

“Okay, okay... everything except age,” he points out, but that wouldn't be a problem for you.

Did he play with the dirty jokes? Well, you have a repertoire of such questions.

“First kiss?” you throw there without flinching, unlike Jungkook who tightens his lips trying not to laugh exasperatedly, ‘Explaining situation, person and environment’ you join your hands under your chin, with a completely innocent smile.

“You are... You are absurd! You want to find out my age any way you can!”

You bite your lower lip, smug.

“I only asked you when and to whom you had your first kiss, it's not that difficult... or maybe such a question embarrasses you?”

He forcefully resumes his glass, draining the last drop of wine with narrowed eyes, “I'll answer, as long as you do the same.”

“You are such a child.”

He raises his eyebrows and you roll your eyes, nodding.

“I was still living with my parents, but I was old enough to experience certain ... urges, throw in a broom cupboard and a girl a little older than me and the dish is served,” you raise an eyebrow.

“You kissed her just like that, without knowing her?” you ask in amazement, Jungkook hadn't seemed like such an easy guy.

He shrugs, “She was nice, plus she was visiting with her father, she needed someone to show her around the house while our parents were talking in the office... I offered and we liked each other, that's all,” you narrow your eyes.

You immediately banish any form of jealousy from your mind, after all, you too had other experiences before you met him, you must be a mature person.

“Exact age?” he ignores your question, asking another question.

“You?”

You?

You sigh a little.

Well, what about you... you certainly weren't as precocious as he was. You're embarrassed to admit it, but you came rather late to enjoy certain intimate aspects of a relationship.

“Nineteen years old, first boyfriend, the place was his house, more specifically the couch, his parents weren't home and we decided to experiment a little,” something in your words makes him laugh incredulously.

“Did you have to specify?” you sense annoyance in his tone and this makes you mentally lick your whiskers like a cat satisfied with dinner. “You specified that it was the broom cupboard!”

“And you that it was your boyfriend!”

He's not really angry, just annoyed, and you're loving this

“Shall we go ahead, first time?”

“Oh, dear...” he pinches his nose with two fingers as his broad chest vibrates under his giggles, ”It's our date, do you really want to hear me talk about former sex partners? Be serious, you just want to make me pay for it,” he says with conviction.

“Really... and what would be the reason?”

You move again, crossing your legs conspicuously, let the fabric of your dress flow a little over your smooth skin, and pretend to adjust it, making sure he notices.

In response he leans toward you again, completely amused by your actions, “You're tired of kisses and little caresses, you'd like our acquaintance to move to a more physical plane, and you're irritated by all this slowness.”

“And if that were really the case, what would you do then?” you blow provocatively.

He remains silent for a few moments before giving a polite nod to the waiter who was about to bring another bottle. You watch confused at his actions.

He murmurs something in his ear, and the young man nods, taking the wine with him. “What did you say to him?”

He puts on a completely innocent expression, “I just asked for the bill.”

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