#wintery wonders
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So how was Rui’s jumpscare?
”nene damn near killed him.” [ ❄️ ]
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My parents’ anniversary was a couple weeks ago, and my mom’s birthday is coming up, so I got a Commission for @burgerspeople for the occasion and it came out so cute 🥰
#i’ve always wondered what they’d look like in the “bob’s burgers” art style and now i know!! they look adorable 🥹🫶🏼#i love this with my whole heart and i showed them (plus my sister) and they all loved it too!!#the sweaters and hats were my idea to give off a fun wintery vibe pffffft#y’all should get a comm from bp if you can they’re super cute and super affordable!!
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HOOT, HOOT
HEY, WE GOT IT, HOOT HOOT
HOOT CHOCOLATE
#roarkposting#the polar express#animalified art#anyways. in case you're wondering what i've been up to lately: this#one thought led to another. i thought it would be funny to make his hairline out of the feather pattern#surveyed the awake members of the auau fanclub gang for Wintery Animal Ideas#immediately locked onto the hoot chocolate joke when snowy owl was suggested#and now we're here#i gave the funny tom hanks conductor man a fursona (feathersona?)#taking some creative liberties with the stache feather placement#had to go partially above and partially below the beak#because yeah like. REALISTICALLYYYY it wouldn't go below it#but artistically. placing it there just did not read correctly AT ALL
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Cannot fall asleep or eat or drink or do anything productive, all I can do is cry and it's been like this for many hours and doesn't seem to stop. What a day, huh.
Tonight I had a short dream where different peoples/characters hearts were represented as small rooms, and I specifically focused on rooms of Maria, G3hrman and Ad3line. All three were terribly dirty, messy, full of trash and broken things and dark, so I redecorated them to be clean, colorful, renewed and pretty with "magic". Filled them with flowers and living butterflies, too. Made the washed up sullied colors vibrant again.
I just wish there was someone who could do something like this for me.
#personal#/vent#dreams#maria was also really hurt because of g3hrman. like.... i found her hiding in the closet from HIM no less.#this was really unsettling#how much you have to mess up to make someone who can kick anyone's ass feel threatened?#ad3line's room also turned out to be very red and vibrant#i also had no choice on the colors of the flowers and with her the flowers were red#not pink like maria's or blue like g3hrman's#interesting choice of color huh.... red color of vigor and passion#she also got EXTRA portion of butterflies#it felt.. satisfying really. to fill broken and devastated 'room' with life and beauty again..#i think g3hrmans was the only one that remained dark and chilly#but instead of bad darkness it became cozy dim darkness. very wintery and nostalgic.#again odd how marias healing went all tender and soft colors and cute things esp pink and white#and then you have goddamn. ad3line being so full of red and passion and sharp furniture#makes me wonder whether something was missing within my portrayal of her#if this is her 'healed' state#on the other hand mine is depressed and... well... this thing can ruin your true personality completely#all previous hobbies passions and traits? gone#marias room had so much broken glass in it though.. there was not a single whole thing in there
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How do you possibly write that nostalgic feeling of times gone past, reflecting in one's bed during a starry, rainy night? It's genuinely such a hard feeling to describe in words.
#though personally#i always feel this way listening to a song i became attached to at a certain time#it always reminds me of that event but also back when my room was my own and not shared w my sister#and of starry silent wintery/autumnal evenings right after meeting with friends and it's getting dark#when you feel lonely but really happy and giddy that you got to hang out with them and mess around like children again#but if it's really old and i mean like a decade or so old#i'm reminded of school discos in year 5 or 6 and playing tag and hide-and-seek w my best friend at the time#how we'd sing those songs on a bright summer holiday afternoon as we came walking back to her house from the major park we both lived near#and how we'd feel so on top of the world#and now i wonder how she's doing after she moved away#i wonder how everyone's doing after being almost 5 years apart#or of how even during lockdown i would be sat listening to minecraft osts and taking long walks down said major park#around the time i began to write and plan ootf and being reminded how thoughtful and clear headed i used to be#i'm a bit nostalgic if you can't tell#:')
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oooops i forgot
tuesday new releases for november 14:
patrick rothfuss novella the narrow road between desires (same size as slow regard of silent things)
david baldacci has new thriller the edge
mitch albom novel about the lives of three holocaust survivors little liar
new novel from michael cunningham day
a return to the time-travel cafe: before we say goodbye by toshikazu kawaguchi author of before the coffee gets cold, english translation by geoffrey trousselot
elizabeth crook's western sequel to the which way tree, the madstone
harmony new book of poetry from whitney hanson
jacquelyn mitchard's new familial drama a very inconvenient scandal
.just once new christian fiction by karen kingsbury
letters of j.r.r. tolkien edited and selected by humphrey carpenter with assistance by christopher tolkien
rush drummer geddy lee's new memoir my effin' life
johnny cash: the life in lyrics with mark stielper
the night parade: a speculative memoir by jami nakamura lin
a woman i know: female spies, double identities, and a new story of the kennedy assasination by filmmaker mary haverstick
city on mars by kelly and zach weinersmith (good non-fiction gift for those who like the martian and laughing at elon mushk)
tomlin: the soul of a football coach by john harris
entangled life: illustrated edition by martin sheldrake - new gorgeous hardcover for the mushroom and fungi fans
core of an onion another micro-history - with recipes - from michael kurlansky, author of cod and salt
new leather gifting style black cover of 48 laws of power: special powers edition
the bill gates problem the myth of the good billionaire by tim schwab
the money kings by daniel schulman
new hardcover collector editions of madeline miller's circe and anthony doerr's all the light we cannot see
also new romance collector hardcovers of archer's voice by mia sheridan and one last stop by casey mcquiston
star wars the eye of darkness a high republic novel by george mann
the marvel multiverse role-playing game core rulebook is out now
the upcycled self by tariq 'black thought' trotter
political books 😔:
network of lies about fox news by brian stelter
biography mitt romney a reckoning by mckay coppins
mike pence's advice(?) book go home for dinner
tired of winning by jonathan karl about trump and the gop
#tuesday new releases#juggling dr appointments is getting to me - there's a reason i tell them i don't want to schedule anything during 'holiday'#it's been rainy and cool here and thus work has been bonkers bc people have nothing better to do#than shopping and hanging out with a warm beverage - plus the kids will be entertained#i swear ecery time tge weather gets 'wintery' our business goes up bc people like feeling as though they're in a movie#and bustling around wearing sweaters and jackets while carrying armfuls of shopping and packages just 'feels right'#or something#but we were not staffed to be busy like december at the current time and i am so tired (and sore)#lots of literary bio/memoirs this year for some reason mcmurtry bradbury orwell now tolkien#i wonder if i could offer gifting advice just based on new stuff?#like i cannot tell you what's a 'good' book bc tastes vary so much but if you want suggestions based on someone's interests#i'd be happy to look out for new books they won't have already read#hardcovers seem to realky be getting a push this year - idk if it's to make up for printing costs going up#or if this is just the first real wave of 'back to business post-pandemic' - publishing moves sloowly most of the time y'all#i will say that if you like fungi or birds or stuff about space or unique memoirs this is a banner year#i'm recommending the hidden language of cats to everyone who has the slightest interest lol#but like if you want military memoirs they're thinner on the ground for example#anyway feel free to ask me about new stuff - i am the last person to tell you if this vs that historical romance is better#but i'm okay at pointing out new arrivals you might never have noticed on your own
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100+ angelic christmas gift ideas
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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
i adore christmas - its one of my favourite holidays! so beautiful and wintery, the lights and decorations, mugs of hot chocolate, childhood memories and so many traditions make it such a special time of year for me. i however, often struggle with knowing what to ask for or what i want for christmas, so i created a little inspo list to help me and anyone else! whether this is for a family member, friend, partner or even yourself im sure this will help you know exactly what you want (or at least give you some pointers in the right direction). these are all obviously just suggestions and vary in price so please put down in the comments what you are asking for this year! enjoy angel!!
uggs
victoria secret pjs
cozy fluffy socks
laneige lip balm
lush body lotions
rose quartz gua sha
glossier makeup
dior lip oil
sonny angels
yoga mat
silk pillowcases
litre water bottle
candles
jelly cats
cute claw clips
ear warmers
books
cute planner
posters or tapestries
camera
philosophy body washes
makeup bag
sylvanian baby blind bags
slippers
matcha
records or cds
five minute journal
desk or wall calendar
eye mask and bonnet
fluffy blankets
large candles
benetint lip tint
rare beauty products
cuticle oil and glass nail file
gold jewellery
silver jewellery
knee high boots
colourful/printed tights
pocket mirror
mugs
house plants
hair band or cute hair clips
gisou hair products
highlighters
charlotte tilbury makeup
pretty nail polishes
salt lamp or other lamp
tea bags (chai, green etc)
wallet or purse
bag charms
dyson hair wrap
your fave chocolates
makeup bag
quilt
vintage room decor
fluffy/patterned rug
new phonecase
slippers
headphones
rings
belt
portable speaker
crystals
fuzzy scarf and gloves
patterned tote bag
dried flowers
fairy lights
jewellery box or trinket dish
photo album
bath oils
incense
locket
bows or pretty scrunchies
sunglasses
mini crates or storage boxes
lululemon clothes
new bedsheets
laptop case
cute pillows
hair curlers
alarm clock
vintage/thrifted clothes
picture frames
snowglobes
miniature trinkets
personalised charm bracelet
makeup brushes
diffuser
face masks
lego
coffee table books
skims
tea infuser
reusable straw
warm jacket
sports bag
keyrings
jumpers
heels
charity donation
thank you so much for reading angels! this season is such a wonderful time of year because of the ideas and ethos surrounding it; one of giving. this winter should be about our loved ones and those in need. whether you do something as simple as donating old clothes to charity or making christmas cards for the homeless, i would encourage everyone (myself included) to make it their mission to give back in at least one way. remember - angels are kind and generous inside and out! as we plan our gifts or think about shopping and the fun things to come let’s all take a moment to reflect on how we can give back.
love, m.
p.s it’s never too early for christmas!
𓂋
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
#becoming that girl#girlblogging#girlhood#it girl#just girly things#it girl energy#that girl#pink pilates princess#christmas#pink aesthetic#pink christmas#gift ideas#wish list
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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
Sanctity Masterlist
Sanctity Playlist
TO JOIN THE TAGLIST PLEASE CLICK HERE!
Ko-fi 💜
Hello my loves! For those who do not know me from Trouvaille, this is Dana! I am very pleased and excited to share this brand-new series with you. It has been a longtime desire of mine to write a story with vampires. Sanctity was born from a love of history and a past with yandere stories. I sincerely hope you enjoy this first chapter and the love that was poured into it!
WARNING! There are instances of gore, including cutting. Suicidal language is used, so please be warned if this is triggering to you.
Next Chapter
The bell struck six in the crumbling belltower, two young men in white robes pulling on the rope to swing the massive metal fixture to and fro. The haunting sound sent a murder of crows scattering across the steadily darkening sky when they were startled from their perches on the Sanctuary’s roof. Y/N peered out of the arched window curiously, halting her task of wiping down the glass with an old, weathered rag, distant yearning filling her as she watched the black birds fly away to the greater unknown.
“Y/N, it’s time to wash up for dinner,” Meredith, a fellow ‘acolyte’ and friend, reminded her, setting aside the wooden broom she was using to sweep the hallway they were working in.
Suppressing an agitated grunt, Y/N simply nodded, rising from her knees and adjusting the cream linen skirt she was wearing, the hem of it dirtied from skimming the old stone floors all day. Following the blonde girl, the wispy curls on her nape appeared silver in the darkened, wintery hallways, Y/N wondered when the Sanctuary would allow them to light the sconces in the frigid building so the acolytes wouldn’t be numb and stiff by the end of the unforgiving November evenings. Not that the wardens actually cared one way or another if the acolytes were cold, as long as they were alive, blood still running through their veins, resources wouldn’t be wasted on a few paltry fires.
“You know, electricity exists. Doesn’t it bother you that we’re forced to live like fucking peasants during the Black Plague?” Y/N seethed, Meredith’s posture growing stiff as she nervously looked around. Not a soul was in the hallway with them, so Y/N rolled her eyes at the blonde’s haughty reaction. “Relax, Mere. No one’s around.”
“You shouldn’t swear, Y/N. They’ll punish you,” Meredith whispered, her angelic blue eyes wide with concern. Y/N scoffed, her aching fingers curling into fists as they continued their way to the dining hall.
“Working all day for nothing is punishment enough. What’s the prize? Becoming a walking transfusion one day?” Y/N, despite her agitation, lowered her voice when Meredith began to look truly frightened. “I’m sorry, Mere. There aren’t any vampires here, you know that, right?”
“Of course I do. They never come on Sanctuary grounds. I wish to continue being your friend, Y/N, but I do not wish to invite punishment onto myself,” Meredith swallowed, looking a touch guilty. “I’ll meet you at the table.”
Y/N sighed, watching the girl spirit away, a flurry of white skirts and matching billowy blouses. After so many years spent in the Sanctuary, Y/N realized she shouldn’t be as bitter as she was, but the winter months brought out the aching in her.
“Talks like a fuckin’ walking pamphlet,” Y/N muttered, heading straight to the large basins lining the outskirts of the dining hall, cringing at the icy water that came from the taps as she scrubbed at her dirty fingernails.
At the very least, the dining hall was one of the warmest sections of the Sanctuary, thanks to the heat from the kitchens and the singular fire roaring in a brazier placed in the center of the room. The Sanctuary, free of 21st century comforts, was always crusted in ice in the winters and stiflingly hot in the summers. Sniffing the air, Y/N tried not to frown– food from the Sanctuary’s kitchens were never very tasty, even if she was often starving enough to eat a leather boot at the end of a day’s work.
“What’s tonight’s mystery meat?” Y/N got in line, retrieving a tray for herself, and leaning up to whisper her joke into her other friend Joseph’s ear. Unlike Meredith, the dark haired man snorted, mirth flashing in his eyes.
“Oh, the usuals. Beef organs or tuna. Paired with lentil slop, shitty kale salad, maybe a sweet potato if we’re lucky. Don’t forget the out-of-season orange and singular square of dark chocolate for dessert, too!”
This time, Y/N did not hold back her light groan, startling a timid acolyte in front of her and Joseph, the girl dropping her hardened, ‘fortified’ bread roll onto the counter. Both her and Joseph bowing in apology slightly while they contained their snickering, Y/N shuddering when a slimy piece of beef liver was slapped onto her plate by a kitchen acolyte.
“I can’t take these organs anymore. Why can’t we have a steak? Steak is rich in iron,” Y/N sat beside Joseph at one of the long tables, her ass smarting against the stone bench. Meredith, across from her, eyed her carefully, using her spoon to push mushy lentils around on her plate.
“You’ve been eating organs for ten years now, squirt, aren’t you fond of them by now?” Joseph teased, prodding at the gory looking organs on his own plate with a fork.
“For once, I just want a bowl of pasta. I mean, come on, vampires eat the best food in the world, and they don’t even need it to survive. Just pure hedonism,” Y/N continued, peeling the orange that came with her dinner considering everything else on the tray looked absolutely revolting.
Every meal served to the acolytes in the Sanctuary was required to be chock-full of ingredients with an abundance of iron and Vitamin C, allegedly making their blood more nutritious and appetizing to vampires. So, in order for vampires to eat like kings, mere human acolytes ate like cavemen.
“You’re especially salty this evening,” Joseph remarked, a flicker of surprise flashing over his face. Meredith had ironically grown quite pale, considering the supposed iron-rich meal she was eating should have had a glow rising to her cheeks. “Make sure none of the wardens walk by while you’re still on your soapbox.”
“You can hear their boots from a mile away, I’ll shut up well before they’re in earshot,” Y/N pinched her nose as she stuffed some lentils down her throat so she wouldn’t have to taste the foul mush. “I’ll stop now, don’t wanna upset you, Mere.”
“Thank you,” Meredith murmured quietly, her eyes softening. Y/N knew that Meredith understood where she was coming from, but complaining about their situations did nothing to get them out of it, in the end. “When we’re back in our dorm… it’ll be okay.”
Nodding, Y/N’s lower eyelid twitched at the thought of her bed– hard as a rock and no better than a bale of hay to sleep on, but kept her promise and changed the subject promptly.
“What was your task today, Joey?”
“Ugh. Joey,” Joseph shivered, nudging Y/N with his elbow. “The usual. Raking dead leaves and preparing the garden for the snow.”
“It’s going to be a cold winter,” Meredith remarked, her gaze turning to the stained-glass windows overlooking a frosty courtyard.
“Maybe if we’re lucky, one of us will get out of here. Be able to stay in a warm building, with wool blankets, fires lit in every room…” Joseph twirled one of his dark curls around an index finger contemplatively, Y/N frowning at the unsaid. The only way that would happen would be if one of them got picked to become a human blood bank at the end of the week. Joseph read her mind. “Tomorrow is the Drawing.”
Drawing day happened monthly. Each acolyte in the Sanctuary was required to report to the infirmary wing and offer up a pint of their blood to be sent out around the area for vampires to “sample”, like some kind of wine tasting that could be delivered to one’s doorstep. Days after the Drawing, there would be a chance that word would be sent from a coven that they were interested in a sample, and the matching acolyte, in consequence, would be delivered to the coven to be a live-in blood donor.
The Drawing happened for a reason. While vampires held the most power across the globe, it was agreed decades ago, after many conferences held by vampires and human world leaders, that solitary vampires must go through a Sanctuary in order to receive a human to feed on. It was during that time when solitary vampires began to form covens to decrease demand for a human donor, and Sanctuaries were born. It was also that time where vampires roamed rampant, claiming any human on the street to drain dry. The death toll was climbing at an alarming rate, so a compromise was reached: vampires could not “hunt”, only go through a Sanctuary to select a donor, one they’d keep indefinitely.
Y/N often weighed the pros and cons of being selected for The Drawing: at the Sanctuary, she could keep her blood but spend her days freezing, eating nasty food, and scrubbing the filthy building. If she was taken in by a coven, sure, she’d have luxuries– good food, riches, warm clothes. But she’d be at the mercy of vampires, notoriously vicious and unforgiving creatures. That, and she’d be fed on constantly by the sadistic beings, likely for the rest of her life.
“That’s why we got extra organs today. Figures,” Y/N shrugged, once again pinching her nose to choke down a sliver of meat. “I’m beat. Gonna head back before the final bell. You can finish my portion, Joey.”
Joseph grimaced at the nickname, but eagerly reached for her tray anyways, Meredith watching Y/N slip from the hall. Delicately dabbing her mouth with a frayed cloth napkin, Meredith sighed.
“She’s always like this the night before the Drawing,” Meredith’s voice was sympathetic, resigned. “She never got used to it, even after all these years.”
“Can you blame her? She was living under the radar, forging her blood type results most of her life before she was caught. I’d be jaded too,” Joseph pointed out around a mouthful of soggy kale. “You’ve been here your whole life, Mere. Y/N and I knew what it was like before living here. Having freedom.”
“I know that, Joseph,” Meredith, to her credit, had the decency to look chastised. “I never said I do not understand. I suppose since the Sanctuary is all I know, I do not yearn for freedom in quite the same way.”
Joseph collected his and Y/N’s trays, smiling at Meredith wistfully. He often thought that life would be simpler if he began to think like her, but it was difficult to let go of freedoms after they’d been tasted before. He remembered the days where he could wander in untamed forests, on the outskirts of town, where he could pick wild fruit and bask in the summer sun. Joseph recalled Y/N telling him about her life of drifting, hiding– the excitement, the footloose feeling of it all. Smiling at his other friend still, he stood from the stone bench.
“The freest we’ll be is if we’re chosen after a Drawing. And even then, we’re birds in cages.”
Even though she had pulled two pairs of wool socks on her feet before passing out in bed, Y/N’s toes were icicles when the obnoxious morning bell clanged through the hollow halls. Starting to regret not eating much dinner, Y/N’s stomach was turning uncomfortably as she sat up in bed. The roiling in her gut was not just because she was hungry, but the familiar unease that festered there each morning of a Drawing day. As she watched Meredith, who happened to be her roommate, pull the threadbare curtains back on their barred window dutifully, Y/N sluggishly removed her nightgown and dressed herself in the dreaded white linens she was forced to wear on a daily basis.
“Hopefully I won’t pass out today,” Y/N joked, knowing that Meredith was usually much more relaxed about complaining when they were in the privacy of their shoebox-sized room.
“They’ll give you juice if you do. Just keep your eyes closed and focus on your breath,” Meredith gestured to the stool at the foot of her bed, encouraging Y/N to sit.
Humming, she did so, staring at the ceiling as her friend began to braid her hair. Meredith’s careful fingertips raking through her tresses calmed her down enough to stop the acid in her stomach from rising into her mouth. Meredith was singing quietly, a hymn, from the sound of it, and Y/N was thankful for the peaceful start of the day, no matter how cold and nauseous she was.
“You won’t have to go to the infirmary until after lunch, right?” Y/N attempted to distract herself from the fact that she’d be the very first to get her blood drawn.
“Mm-hmm. B+ is scheduled for after the midday meal,” Meredith stopped singing, using a scrap of old cream fabric to tie off the braid hanging down Y/N’s back. “So I’ll see you in the dining hall, then I’ll meet you back in the west hallway to finish cleaning anything we didn't yesterday.”
“Thanks, Mere,” Y/N reached back, passing her hand over the braid her friend weaved, wishing that there was at least a mirror somewhere. Y/N hadn’t seen her reflection in years, except for blurry images in the surface of the Sanctuary’s garden fountain; the wardens rejected vanity amongst acolytes. “I’m gonna get it over with, head straight for the infirmary.”
“Are you positive that’s wise without breakfast? You hardly touched dinner, too,” Meredith’s pale eyebrows shot into her hairline, worry etched between them.
“I’m worried if I eat, the spinach smoothie will make another appearance as soon as they get the needle in my arm,” Y/N pictured the tasteless breakfast she normally had coming up for a round two and shuddered. “It’ll be okay. Just like every time, right? I’ve been here for years. The local vampires don’t seem to like my blood very much, or at least the ones that this Sanctuary sends it to.”
“Good luck, Y/N. See you at lunch,” Meredith didn’t comment on Y/N’s attempt to brighten up– she knew the stakes were as high as Y/N did.
God must have felt particularly cruel the day he decided to bestow Y/N with one of the world’s rarest blood types: the coveted AB-, a sought-after type for many vampires. Apparently, all of the blood types had different tastes, but Y/N hardly believed that. Blood was blood; tinny, salty, and a nauseating reminder of fragile mortality. There was a reason she had hidden from the world for many years, drifting from place to place. Those with AB- blood were hardly at Sanctuaries for long before a coven would promptly request them as their live-in donor. Y/N was basically living on borrowed time– she often wondered if her bitterness leached into her bloodstream and spoiled the ‘product’.
Dragging her palm along the stone walls of the Sanctuary’s hallway, Y/N barely registered the crowd of acolytes passing by on their ways to the dining hall in the opposite direction from where she was going. Y/N was the only acolyte in that particular Sanctuary to have AB- blood, so naturally, she was by herself every Drawing day first thing in the morning, and the top priority of the wardens. Swallowing thickly, the scent of rubbing alcohol had her gagging as it filled her nostrils when she neared closer to the infirmary.
Of course, the infirmary wing was cold as ice both temperature wise and atmospherically. In contrast to the Gothic interior of the rest of the Sanctuary, the infirmary was somewhat modern (or was once, in the 80’s), sterile, and covered in pastel vinyl flooring. Her Mary Janes squeaked against the tiles, nervously wringing her hands together as she stared at the plastic dentist’s chair in the corner of the room, the clump of wardens setting up the apparatus to collect blood. Clearing her throat, Y/N pressed her lips together in a line as one of the wardens turned to her– Mrs. Sloane, a severe 60-year-old woman who ran the Sanctuary like the military. Y/N had an acute dislike for the woman, who saw her and the acolytes as nothing more but cattle to raise.
“AB-, come here. Everything is ready,” her voice was dry, sharp, like a whip cracking down. It had her flinching, but she obediently trudged towards the crinkled old chair, mostly out of fear of having to kneel in the chapel for several hours in punishment if she didn’t follow orders exactly.
Knees wobbling, she lowered herself onto the chair while Mrs. Sloane eyed her like she was a slab of wagyu beef she was preparing to sell to the highest bidder. Biting her lip, she swiftly shut her eyes, heeding Meredith’s earlier advice. Perhaps she could prolong her anxiety attack if she kept her eyes shut the entire time, flinching in the seat when someone was not-so-gently rolling up the sleeve on her left arm past her elbow and swiping an alcohol wipe over her sensitive skin.
“We’ll be taking more than usual today,” Mrs. Sloane announced, and Y/N’s plans of staying blind were foiled when her eyes snapped open in shock.
“W-what? But taking more than a pint is dangerous, is it not?” Y/N’s voice came out panicked and thin, Mrs. Sloane scowling at her nastily.
“Silence. It is not your place to question,” Mrs. Sloane scolded, Y/N’s breathing becoming fast and shallow. “A new coven has arrived in the area. They have requested a large sample of AB-.”
Dread flooded through every cell of her body, horrified that she was about to be drained dry, two pint bags on the steel table beside her. Barely having time at all to process that there was a coven of vampires that were new to the area, and that there was a great chance that they’d select her as a donor, Y/N yelped when one of the wardens pinned her wrist down and another slid the hollow needle in her arm. Seeing stars dance in her field of vision, Y/N whimpered at the sting of the needle, feeling sick when she felt the warmth of her blood flowing into the tube connected to the pint bag resting on her arm. She absolutely loathed the feeling of her blood leaving her body, like her very life force was being sucked out, and before she could actively close her eyes, they shut involuntarily when they began to water.
“Calm down, AB-,” Mrs. Sloane sounded like she was spitting through her teeth, Y/N unable to feel her limbs. “You should be grateful. You’ll have the rest of the day off to recuperate.”
Y/N hardly heard the woman. Ears ringing, she was drifting away, a cold, sticky sweat coating her forehead. While she was struggling to form a coherent thought, one of the wardens must have switched out the full bag for the empty one, and by then, Y/N lost consciousness.
Several moments later, Y/N not knowing exactly how much time had passed, someone was snapping in her face, jamming a straw in her mouth. Nearly choking on the orange juice that was being squeezed down her parched throat, her eyes opened blearily and all she could see was blinding white light from the fluorescence above her.
“You may sit here for no more than five additional minutes. Then return to your dorm until the dinner bell,” Mrs. Sloane’s arms were crossed, annoyed that Y/N was holding up the line of acolytes outside waiting their turns.
Though she was pretty much completely drained of energy, Y/N’s mind was moving a thousand miles per hour. With a new coven in the area, there was a very real possibility they’d be interested in her blood, considering the rarity of the blood type. She gleaned no additional information from Mrs. Sloane– typical– but how many vampires would be in that coven, if God forbid they chose her? Three, four? Four was typically the largest a coven would get, and the thought of four of them latching onto her at once had her leaning over in the chair and emptying the contents of her stomach into the bucket on the floor.
It didn’t matter that she’d be free of the Sanctuary. Though she’d live lavishly, she’d have constant open wounds and would be psychologically tortured by the creatures. Suddenly, meals made purely of beef liver and beds constructed out of pallets seemed much better than cake and down feather mattresses.
“Your time is up. Go back to your dorm. The midday meal will be delivered to you,” Mrs. Sloane barked, hauling Y/N up by her wrist. Feet faltering, Y/N swayed and scrabbled for the drywall, blindly feeling her way to the main hallway again.
Dazed, her arm throbbed where the needle had been inserted, and the only positive that came from that morning’s events was the fact that she’d get to lay in bed all day instead of scrubbing floors. Y/N wasn’t sure how she managed to find her way back to her dorm room, but before she knew it, she was wrapping two blankets around herself and curling up in bed.
She was woken up by Meredith hours later, the blonde bringing her a tuna sandwich on a undoubtedly stale roll. Choking it down like a wolf, she tried not to cry when Meredith gingerly wrapped a cloth around her arm, which was cruelly left to clot on its own by the wardens.
“It’s going to be me this time,” Y/N announced dully, eyes on the overcast sky outside her barred windows. “I can feel it.”
“There is no way to know–”
“A new coven has moved to this town,” Y/N cut her friend off, Meredith’s hands stilling. Withdrawing her touch from Y/N’s arm, Meredith appeared tentatively unsure.
“To Newport?” Meredith’s light eyebrows pulled together, disbelieving. Newport wasn’t exactly a magnet for vampires, most of the ones that resided in the area weren’t in covens at all, just solitary vampires. A new coven spelled danger for Y/N. “I heard that a vampire built one of the famous mansions by the ocean. Do you think one of the vampires could be him?”
“Well, if he is, then I guess I’d get to live like a princess. You know, the one that got locked in a tower with a dragon and shit.”
Y/N had a bad feeling. Not that she was one to have premonitions, but trusting that feeling in her gut is what helped her to survive years before she was brought to the Sanctuary. Meredith stroked the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her, but Y/N knew she was just as nervous as she was. Because the coven requested so much of her blood specifically, and was the only person in the immediate area with AB- blood, if the vampires liked her blood her fate was officially sealed. Swallowing bile, she shook her head, not wanting to put the cart before the horse yet.
“I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I’ve been around for a while, none of the local vampires have been interested. Maybe my blood tastes like dirt, and I’ll be here until I’m elderly.”
“It’s okay to worry, Y/N. However,” Meredith sat on the side of Y/N’s bed, the old wood frame creaking with her weight. “There are many others here with rare blood types. Perhaps they will prefer AB positive.”
“Perhaps,” Y/N agreed, beginning to sit up. “Shall we go to the hall and finish the windows?”
“I have to go to the infirmary wing, it’s my turn. You should rest, Y/N,” Meredith helped her stand, Y/N furiously shaking her head.
“If I stay here until dinner, my thoughts will continue to spiral,” Y/N shoved her feet into her well-worn shoes, slinging her braided hair over her shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me lunch. I’ll get started on the windows and wait for you.”
Y/N headed out first, leaving Meredith to prepare herself for her drawing. The blonde often liked to pray before the process, Y/N not knowing whether she was praying to be chosen, or praying to be skipped over. She didn’t have the stomach to ask.
By herself in the west hallway, she picked up the rag she abandoned the previous evening with a rough sigh. The sky opened up and ice-cold rain began to pelt the windows, crows eerily taking shelter in the eaves of the bell tower. Y/N felt like their beady eyes were on her, able to see through the glass and spot her wiping the window. Shuddering, she couldn’t tear her sight from the birds, the superstitious side of her insisting that they were some kind of omen.
Two days later, Y/N was trudging through the hollow halls after dinner, which she again excused herself from early. There had been no news about the results of the Drawing, but it didn’t stop her stomach from turning over in anxiety all day long. Hands coming up to rub her biceps, she glanced at the full moon outside of the large arched windows, slightly obscured by thin, dark clouds.
Kicking a stray stone as she turned the corner to the wing with the dorms, she paused a few feet from her and Meredith’s door with a frown. Light spilled out from the open dorm, more light than would have been possible coming from the small candles she and Meredith were allowed for nighttime reading. Besides, Meredith was still in the dining hall, so the door shouldn’t have been open. Fear sunk into her bones, making a sticky heat flash over her skin with dread. Mustering her remaining courage, she crept towards her room like a mouse.
Torches were lit up in the usually empty sconces, three wardens, including Mrs. Sloane, rifling through Y/N’s small dresser and nightstand. There was a large, old-fashioned suitcase box on her bed. Horrified and confused, Y/N accidentally bumped into the creaky door and snagged Mrs. Sloane’s attention.
“Congratulations, AB-,” Mrs. Sloane was sickly sweet, and it didn’t suit her whatsoever. “The coven has chosen you. Help pack your belongings, you leave tonight.”
“What?” Y/N’s world was spinning, vision getting spotty. “Leave? T-tonight?”
“Yes, girl. Are you hard of hearing? Pack your belongings, we are to bring you to the coven in less than an hour,” Mrs. Sloane went back to her snarky self, Y/N holding onto the door in a desperate attempt to stay upright.
Mrs. Sloane reached for the pocket of her apron, where she kept a metal ruler so she could strike those who disobeyed her, Y/N stumbled into the room and shakily tossed her white skirts into the suitcase to avoid being struck. Hardly able to form a single coherent thought, Y/N moved woodenly, so shocked that tears didn’t even roll down her cheeks.
“You are lucky. The coven that requested you consists of some of the wealthiest vampires in the world. You will want for nothing,” Mrs. Sloane tossed the final garment Y/N owned into the suitcase, another warden closing it up and bringing it out to the hall. Y/N had to hold her tongue, considering she was about to shout but I’m going to live with monsters. “All seven of them have wealth, in fact. They are rumored to have great powers, as well.”
“S-seven? Did y-you just say seven?” Y/N gasped, flinching when Alfred, the burliest warden in the Sanctuary, grabbed her arm and began to pull her out of the room. She had never heard of a coven so large, and it made every cell in her body light up with sharp panic.
“Yes, seven. Make haste,” Mrs. Sloane and Alfred hauled her through the Sanctuary, confused acolytes coming from the dining hall making space for them to pass. Y/N recognized the look on some of their faces, relief that they hadn’t been chosen.
“But, my friends! Please, let me say goodbye,” Y/N begged, tears finally starting to form when she spotted Joseph in the crowd, his eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Somewhere, Meredith was probably thinking about the book they were going to read together that night.
“There’s no time. You’ll get to write letters,” Mrs. Sloane refused, a whimper coming from Y/N’s throat as tears began to pour down her cheeks, getting one last look at Joseph who was mouthing something to her. Miserably, she couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, Alfred yanking her to the tall front doors, frigid air blasting her in the face as they opened.
In the courtyard, a place Y/N had only been once or twice when she was first brought to the Sanctuary, there was a horse-drawn carriage. Y/N, had she not been in the greatest shock of her life, would have laughed– wouldn’t it have been easier for her to be taken in a car? Hardly having the time to look back at the Sanctuary she called home the past ten years, her knees knocked together when she was pushed into the carriage with her luggage. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed privacy to cry when in the carriage, Alfred clambering in after her with a grunt.
Y/N didn’t talk to Alfred, mostly because he rarely spoke. At least he let her silently weep for a few moments, Y/N beginning to process the gravity of the situation. With watery eyes, she looked outside the carriage window, the gothic Sanctuary becoming distant as the horses trotted on. Her dread was temporarily numbed by the opportunity to see beyond the Sanctuary, land she had not seen in years. The trees lining the paved streets were barren, gray, and the hard-packed dirt had not a blade of grass. Even then, Y/N hadn’t seen such beauty in so long– a small taste of freedom before she was locked away for life again.
Her tears continued to flow even when she greedily took in the sights of the town of Newport, the homes of the wealthy humans who did not have to give up their freedom for vampires, shops that had closed for the day, parked cars on the sides of the streets. It was odd to see the vehicles, considering she had been living in an analog manner for so long, Y/N wondered if she’d ever know what the inside of one looked like.
“H-how long will it take?” Y/N asked timidly, not confident Alfred would respond, but she tried anyway. The middle-aged man looked up from his Bible, giving Y/N an unfeeling look.
“We are no more than ten minutes away, now. Wipe your sorry face,” Alfred responded coldly, Y/N’s heart racing when she dabbed at her cheeks obediently. “You will not shame our Sanctuary by showing the coven how miserable you are.”
Y/N had never heard Alfred speak so many words. She was starting to think that was for the best, his words like a slap across her face. Part of her pondered if she’d ever hear a kind word again. Lapsing back into silence, Y/N sniffled up the remainder of her tears, the shock beginning to wear off and her survival skills kicking in. If she wanted to remain sane, and not give the vampires an inch before they took a mile, she had to appear unafraid and unaffected. Strong, confident, and indifferent, but pure, so if not to anger them. Vampires and their purity– ironic.
The houses– if one could even call the structures that– became grander and grander the further they traveled. The massive buildings made the ginormous cathedral the Sanctuary called home look like a garden shack. Y/N had a hunch, as they turned down a road that had imposing iron gates lining yards that looked like parks, that the coven she was to belong to resided in one of the famous Newport mansions. Passing by a white marble monstrosity, Y/N shuddered. The homes looked empty, cold, and imposing. Grand, yes, but the kind of display of wealth that had someone like Y/N, who lived her entire life struggling, clenching her fist in fury.
“Won’t be long now. Straighten yourself out. The staff is to greet you,” Alfred slapped his Bible shut, grasping for the handle of Y/N’s suitcase.
Breathing shallowly, Y/N’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when the carriage brought them to the largest iron gate on the street, initials TK welded between filigree at the top of the barrier. As if by magic, the gates began to creak open, Y/N stunned by her first glimpse of actual electricity illuminating the gatehouse. Of course, she had seen it prior to her life at the Sanctuary, but it was odd to see the night lit up after living by candlelight. Gnawing at her nails, thinking that she could be shocked no further, an audible gasp tore from her when the carriage pulled through the driveway of great trees, an imposing mansion coming into view.
Y/N had never imagined such a building could ever be constructed. It would take a person hours to walk the entire floor plan, the grounds aside. Y/N was struck by a memory from earlier that week, when Meredith brought up the mansions by the ocean. One of the members of the coven must have been the man that built it, and the only other thing Y/N knew was that the mansion was settled on a steep cliff jutting into the sea. One she could potentially careen herself off of, if need be.
Her elbow was tightly grabbed again when the carriage stopped before the covered front entrance, bright lights nearly blinding her as Alfred shoved her out of the carriage, Y/N freezing instantly when she felt a foreign touch on her forearm to steady her. Eyes adjusting, she frantically looked up, not ready to deal with a vampire right off the bat. To her great relief, a blue-eyed– not red-eyed man, one dressed in a fine suit, righted her with a tight smile. A human, presumably a member of the mansion’s staff.
“I–I– I’m sorry,” Y/N managed, cursing Alfred colorfully in her mind. So much for confidence.
“Quite alright, acolyte…” the man prompted in a British accent, the first whisper of kindness Y/N had in over an hour.
“Oh. Forgive me. Acolyte Y/N,” she replied quickly, accessing the back of her brain where cobwebs and her etiquette surrounding that event resided.
“Sir, you may leave. Acolyte Y/N will begin her duties under our watch now,” the man in the suit removed his touch from Y/N’s forearm, not a single strand of silver hair on the man’s head out of place.
“Contact us if there are issues,” Alfred hardly got out of the carriage, his scarred face twisting into a smirk. Y/N wanted to spit on him.
“Of course,” the man replied, tight smile still on his lips, standing importantly beside Y/N until the carriage was well on its way back to the gate. “He’s a cup of tea, isn’t he?”
Y/N blinked, not knowing whether or not to agree, if it was her place. Turning to the man, whose posture had loosened up and a more genuinely friendly expression taking over his features, Y/N nodded slowly.
“Forgive me. I’m Edmund, head butler here at The Breakers. Pleased to meet you, Miss Y/N,” Edmund extended a gloved hand to Y/N, who hesitantly shook it. Was he trying to get her guard down by feigning gentlemanly behavior? “I take care of important matters inside of the estate. If you have any needs, you can seek me out. Of course, you’ll have personal maids, as well. Come, let’s get you out of the cold.”
Reeling, Y/N watched Edmund effortlessly scoop up her luggage, timidly following him to the door that was opened by an older man, also dressed in a sharp suit. With a house that size, Y/N realized that the staff must have been numerous to keep everything functioning smoothly. It was somewhat of a comfort that the staff she encountered so far seemed to be humans, likely ones with low status and common blood types.
Not even the imposing exterior of the building could have prepared Y/N for what the mansion looked like inside. In just the entrance alone, exquisite stone work, massive tiled floors, and tall ornate lamps illuminated by real light bulbs had stars circling around her head. Now that she was inside, she started to feel nervous again, waiting for a vampire to pop out from behind a thick stone column. In awe and in fear of her surroundings, she jolted when a young woman appeared from the left, carrying a tray.
“This is Nadia, she’ll be your head maid. I’ll take your luggage to your room, and Nadia will show you around the first floor before you retire. She’ll answer any questions you have.”
Edmund bowed to Y/N, which had her blanching in embarrassment. The butler disappearing further into the estate, Y/N turned to Nadia when the young woman cleared her throat lightly.
“Miss, I’ve brought you some cocoa. Hopefully it will warm you,” Nadia presented her with a large porcelain mug on the silver tray, a thick, sweet smell hitting her nostrils and making her nearly tear up. The only chocolate she could have at the Sanctuary was a square of bitter 100% cacao on Wednesdays and Sundays, not something decadent and rich like the cocoa she was being offered.
“I can have this?” Y/N squeaked, not daring to take the mug lest it was some kind of trick. Nadia cocked her head, confused by the question.
“Of course, Miss. Unless you don’t like chocolate, I can prepare you some tea instead,” Nadia began to lower the tray, Y/N waving her hands urgently to stop her.
“N-no, no, you don’t have to do that! Thank you, I’ll take it,” Y/N wrapped her hands around the ceramic mug, the warmth soothing her frozen fingers. “Um, you can call me Y/N if you want, please.”
Y/N was already weirded out, and people addressing her by formal titles was definitely a camel back-breaking straw. Nadia set her tray aside, watching Y/N take a shaky sip of the cocoa. It was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted, and she couldn’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed when she drained the whole mug in five seconds flat. The drink was thick, rich, and warmed her from the inside out. She both wanted to cry and beg for a second mug.
“You must be freezing, shall we head into the hall? It’s much warmer there,” Nadia gestured forward, Y/N glancing at what appeared to be a giant ballroom in front of her. Gulping, she nodded, following the woman timidly. So far, not a single mention of the vampires that allegedly lived in the mansion. “If you’d like, I can draw you a hot bath when we get to your bedroom. I’ve filled your dresser with warm clothes for you to sleep in, too, I’ll put them on your bed… This is the Great Hall. I imagine the coven will hold parties here from time to time.”
Y/N didn’t know where to look. Between the sheer size of the space, the ornate artwork painted on the ceiling, and the endless colors swirling around the room, her vision finally landed on the enormous fireplace roaring at one end of the hall. It was then when she noticed it was the first time since mid-October she wasn’t chilly. Prior to that evening, Y/N had a lot of assumptions about vampires. One of the assumptions was that they would prefer to live in a cold and dark environment, but the mansion she was standing in was toasty and brightly lit.
“It’s… big,” Y/N managed weakly, Nadia leading her to a red-carpeted staircase. All she could do was follow, wanting to ask the maid a few questions about the coven, but she knew that vampires had superior hearing and she didn’t want to attract the attention of one of them.
“Yes, but you will become accustomed to it. I can help you navigate the interior and grounds until you know your own way around. Oh, right here. This is a portrait of Master Taehyung. He built this estate,” Nadia paused on the landing, where the staircase split into two directions.
Whipping her head upwards, she soaked in the lines of the old painted canvas, Nadia’s first mention of the vampires making her heart stop dead in her chest. The man depicted in the painting was beautiful, which was typical for the creatures, but Taehyung nearly took her breath away. Dressed in a Victorian-style suit, the vampire had a cold, stern expression. His dark wavy hair was parted down the middle neatly, and of course, the vampiric red irises staring back at her made her stomach turn in fear. Schooling her features, Y/N bit her lip at Nadia’s expectant expression.
“He’s, um. Handsome,” Y/N offered, hoping that her voice wasn’t wavering, Nadia nodded, resuming her ascent up the stairs.
“Master Taehyung made his fortune in steamships, railroads, and shipping in the mid-1800’s. He’s a legendary businessman,” Nadia informed her, Y/N cringing that she referred to the creature as a ‘man’. Nadia herself didn’t seem to have a problem with the vampire, and in fact, her voice almost implied that she admired Taehyung. “All seven of our masters are impressive men.”
“Wait, they’re all male?” Y/N stopped in her tracks, feeling the blood drain from her face. She was hoping for a coven of mostly female vampires, theorizing that perhaps they’d be less vicious.
“Yes, I’m sure you know that it’s atypical for a coven to be both so large and of all one gender. The masters are like-minded, which is why they chose to form the coven,” Nadia explained, stopping at a door at the end of the hall, beside a breezeway that likely looked out onto the ocean. “Here we are, this is where you’ll stay. The rest of the bedrooms on this floor are occupied by five of the masters, Masters Seokjin and Namjoon prefer the bedrooms on the third floor due to privacy of the quarters.”
Y/N swallowed, stepping into her new bedroom, which was bigger than four dorm rooms at the Sanctuary smashed together. The walls were covered in an intricate pink floral wallpaper, all of the upholstered furniture a matching shade of blushing rose, and the marble fireplace was lit already. The room was decidedly feminine, Y/N’s eyes catching on a painting above a nightstand depicting dancing women. Nadia, as she was bumbling around the room selecting clothes from a dresser, noticed Y/N staring at it. It was expertly painted, precise.
“That is one of Master Yoongi’s pieces, depicting the Nine Muses of Greek mythology,” Nadia placed flannel pajamas on Y/N’s new bed, which looked plush and was piled high with thick pillows. “Master Yoongi is a painter, an artist. Very famous.”
“Really?” Y/N knew nothing about art, let alone Greek mythology. She didn’t have the luxury of studying those things.
“The hour is growing late, Miss. I can tell you more about the masters in the morning. They will not be back from the affairs that called them away tonight until midday tomorrow,” Nadia pulled out a pocket watch from her apron, heading towards a door by the back of the bedroom. “I’ll run your bath, and leave you to rest. You’ll be woken in the morning for breakfast.”
Moments later, Y/N was left alone in her very own bathroom, not a communal one like she was used to at the Sanctuary with cold water taps. The bathtub had steaming water filling the room with humidity, the scent of lavender oil somewhat easing her frayed nerves. Chewing her lip, she decided she might as well indulge in the hot bath, considering her muscles were beyond stiff and there was no way she’d be able to fall asleep right away, if at all.
Part of her wondered what kind of ‘affairs’ that the vampires were involved with. If it were her, and she had accumulated all of that wealth and immortality, she’d spend her days lazing around. The other part of her was thanking the sky that none of them were in the building; she had more time to prepare herself to meet the creatures the following day. Stiffly, she began to untie her skirt, letting the fabric hit the floor. Y/N supposed never having to wear those skirts again was a bit of a silver lining. Kicking it to the side, Y/N’s vision caught on something silvery and polished– an actual mirror. Eagerly, she dashed to the sink it was fixed over to catch a glimpse of herself for the very first time in ages.
Unable to help the gasp that came from her mouth, Y/N didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. The image of herself she had in her mind was her fifteen year old self, not the twenty-five year-old reflected in the polished silver. In awe, she traced her sharpened jaw and cheekbone, lacking teenage fullness, and she realized that she had forgotten the color of her eyes. Tearing up a little, she turned from side to side, getting a look at her figure– even going as far as removing the rest of her clothing in curiosity. Poking at areas of her body she was unfamiliar with in the mirror, like the curve to her hips, Y/N felt rather odd. The whole evening had her entire world turning upside-down.
After several moments, she tore her attention from the mirror, only feeling slightly guilty of vanity, and tentatively dipped a toe into the bath. The water didn’t immediately dissolve her skin and bones, so she slowly sunk her body into the porcelain basin with a ragged groan. Maybe she had died and went somewhere beautiful, because being treated like royalty so far was not something she predicted. In the back of her mind, she reminded herself not to get too comfortable. She hadn’t even met the coven yet, and for all she knew, they could be horrible individuals. Nadia didn’t speak of them in that way– but maybe the maid wouldn’t dare.
Y/N sat in the bath until the water became lukewarm and her skin was pruny. Limbs loose, she wrapped herself in a plush towel that was waiting for her on a rack that actually heated the towel. While the ends of her hair dripped water on the tiled floor, she bent down, looking through a chest beside the sink with interest. Each drawer held essential and non-essential toiletries, some things Y/N had never even heard of. Picking up a bottle of ‘skin oil’ and ‘hair detangler’, she blinked in confusion. Was it Nadia who stocked the drawers for her? Or were the vampires considerate enough to provide her with a toothbrush and facial cleanser?
Head full of cotton, she decided to ignore all of the products she was unfamiliar with and simply brushed her teeth and combed her hair. Peeking out of the bathroom door to make sure that no one had entered the room while she was bathing, Y/N tip-toed across the richly carpeted floor towards the ridiculously large bed. The fire was still going, warming the room, and Y/N hesitantly slid into a pair of flannel pajama pants left out for her. The elasticated waistband hugged her hips perfectly, and as she buttoned up the top and pulled on fluffy socks, she speculated about how Nadia managed to figure out her measurements. The Sanctuary probably had some sort of file on all of her personal information, which had her skin crawling.
While she was still on edge, her body was so relaxed from the bath that with slight resignation, she maneuvered herself under the sheets and heavy blankets, clasping a hand over her mouth as she sunk comically into the mattress. The bed hugged her in all directions, like getting to sleep on a cloud, and as she stared at the ceiling in awe, Y/N squirmed around to get in a cozy position curled up tight on her side protectively.
The lights would remain on, that was for sure. Y/N was never afraid of the dark per se, but in a new environment, she wasn’t risking things watching her from the shadows of the old estate. While memorizing the shapes of the intricate carvings on the ceiling, Y/N tried to make a mental list of everything she knew about vampires in general, and the specifics of the ones she was about to serve.
Over the centuries, there were several old wives tales that were circulated by humans surrounding vampires; but Y/N hardly knew which ones were fact or fiction. There were the superstitions passed down through common blood-typed, lower class humans that would work as maids and butlers to the vampires, the awe-inspiring, intimidating tidbits wealthy and influential humans would spread after doing business with the creatures. Then, of course, was the probable propaganda Y/N and her fellow acolytes were spoon-fed in Sanctuaries.
Y/N started with what she knew was just plain phony: vampires did not have an aversion to the sun and could walk around in daylight as they pleased. They did not flee from crosses or garlic, and they could not be exterminated by a stake through the heart. Acolytes were told that vampires could not be killed, and had few, if any, weaknesses. That was enough to have Y/N shivering, even beneath all of her blankets and flannel pajamas.
The older the vampire, the less in-touch with humanity they became. There was a recalled memory, a boring lecture in the Sanctuary’s dusty chapel, which consisted of a hazy memory of Y/N copying down ‘Oldest known vampire is aged 1,291 years, but some may be even older’. Y/N couldn’t even fathom living to be in her forties, let alone how it must be to live for over a century. On the other hand, ‘younger’ vampires– under three hundred years old– tended to be bolder, and adapted to modern times with greater ease.
Vampires needed human blood to sustain their powers, immortality, and to keep their internal organs functioning properly. While considered to be undead, a vampire’s heart kept beating, lungs brought in oxygen, and they could even digest human food if the creatures had consistent access to blood. Squeezing her eyes shut tight at the image of a vampire tearing into a rare steak, Y/N started to count off the things she found out from Nadia about the particular coven that requested her from the Sanctuary.
First, there was only a brief visual she had of one out of the seven, ‘Master’ Taehyung. Y/N prayed she wouldn’t have to use a title on any of them, but it was likely out of her hands. Sure, the portrait depicted a handsome young man, with all the airs of importance and wealth– but Y/N couldn’t get his unearthly red irises out of her mind. Taehyung was the vampire that commissioned the construction of the mansion she was currently cowering in, apparently a business tycoon that dominated during the Gilded Age. The next piece of information she got was ‘Seokjin’ and ‘Namjoon’ living on a separate floor for additional privacy, which made her nervous for some reason. Which was more dangerous, vampires in the bedroom next door to her, or those hidden in spots she hadn’t even toured yet?
The last thing she learned about one of the vampires– Yoongi– from Nadia is that he was evidently a famous artist. Cracking one sore eye open, she stared at the elaborately framed artwork above her nightstand again, noticing the fading of the paint and how it aged the piece. How old was the painting, and how old was Yoongi? Shutting her eyes once more, she sunk deeper into the mattress and pulled her blankets over her head. Nadia promised she’d answer any additional questions Y/N had over breakfast, so Y/N miraculously fell asleep by coming up with a handful of queries.
“Miss, hello? The sun has risen,” Y/N sat up in her bed with a sharp gasp, her hair hanging in her face like a nest. Whipping her head around frantically, she couldn’t believe she actually managed to get some sleep in a brand-new setting so easily. Knocking on the door, as well as a mousy, unfamiliar voice had her stumbling to her feet frantically. “May I come in, Miss?”
“Um, uh, yes, come in,” Y/N panicked, smoothing her wrinkled flannel shirt into place and hastily raking hair from her face. The door creaked open, a young woman who wasn’t Nadia hurrying in– her uniform pristinely pressed.
“Good morning, Miss Y/N. I’m Juliana, I work under Nadia. I’ll be helping you with your morning routine, while Nadia handles more important matters– coordinating breakfast, of course,” Juliana gave Y/N a slight bow, Y/N’s mouth dropping open at the gesture.
Before she could respond, Juliana began to draw the great curtains around the room open, the blinding white light of the early winter morning flooding into the room and stinging her eyes. When her vision returned to her, she gasped again at the sight just beyond the windows. Unable to help herself, she tripped towards one of the windows, grappling for the sill so she could steady herself.
Her room overlooked the backyard– if one could even call it that– and beyond the manicured grass and gardens was the vast, unending ocean once the landscaping dropped off of the famous cliff. It was like her eyes couldn’t absorb enough of the scenery, and impatiently, she pressed her forehead to the glass plane to gawk at the icy, gray ocean.
“In this drawer, here, we’ve placed warm pants for you– leggings, jeans, corduroys. If you prefer skirts and wool tights, those are hanging in your closet, and your tops and sweaters are in this armoire, here. Underthings are located in the lingerie chest beside you,” Juliana opened up various drawers, light on her feet and peppy, her curly brown hair bouncing with her movements.
“Lin… lingerie?” Y/N tasted the unfamiliar word on her tongue, attention effectively stolen from the gorgeous view beyond her windows.
“Forgive me. It’s another word for your undergarments, such as brassiers?” Juliana clarified, raising her brows and crossing the room. Y/N had not a single clue what she was talking about, following her like a duckling.
“Oh! I’ve never…” Y/N suddenly felt immensely awkward, peering into the drawer that held garments she hadn’t worn while at the Sanctuary– the thick, burlap material of the Sanctuary tops were all she got, not delicate lacy scraps of fabric that seemed to exist for the sole purpose of cradling her chest. “Um, okay. I can… wear whatever I want?”
“Yes, yes, as long as you’re comfortable, Miss,” Juliana took Y/N’s confusion in stride, moving towards the fireplace. Taking up a fire poker, the maid prodded at the glowing embers in the hearth. “I hope you were warm enough while you slept. The fire tends to go out in the middle of the night.”
“Y-yes, I was fine. Plenty of blankets,” Y/N chuckled nervously, not used to being so diligently cared for. Would it always be like that? “Um… have they returned?”
“They? You mean the masters?” Juliana paused, replacing the fire poker back on the rack. “They’ll be back before noon.”
“Okay,” Y/N was proud of herself for keeping a tremble out of her voice, Juliana gesturing towards a vanity by one of the windows.
“I can comb your hair, Miss, then leave you to get changed,” Juliana herded Y/N to the cushy stool, Y/N once again blinking at her unfamiliar expression. Contrary to the circumstances, her expression told the story of someone who got plenty of rest the night before. “I’ll wait by the stairs to show you to the breakfast room.”
That time, Y/N didn’t reply. She was too distracted by the feeling of the young maid gliding a fine comb through her hair gently– and with a sharp twist in her chest, she was reminded of the last time someone did her hair– Meredith, on the day of the Drawing. Holding her breath, she waited patiently for Juliana to comb through every snag on her head, surprised when she finally pulled away without braiding Y/N’s hair. Usually, Sanctuaries insisted that acolytes keep their hair braided if female, and cropped short if male. Juliana, however, left Y/N with her hair flowing free.
“Alright, Miss, take your time getting dressed. I’ll wait for you by the staircase,” Juliana smiled sweetly at her through the mirror, setting the comb back onto the vanity before she took her leave.
Y/N had a newfound feeling of determination when she absorbed her reflection, suddenly. She was going to get as much detail about the characters of the vampires from members of the staff as she could before the seven of them returned to the mansion. Swiftly, she pawed through various drawers for clothes, stomping to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Tugging on fleece-lined leggings, she cursed at herself in the mirror when it took her several minutes to figure out how to hook a brassier around her bust. The top she selected was a large slouchy sweater, one that hid her figure and hung loosely around her thighs. It made her feel a bit more protected, not having so much skin exposed. There weren’t any shoes in her closet, so she awkwardly stuffed her feet into her Mary Janes from the Sanctuary.
With a huff, she headed to the hallway, the mansion looking completely different during the day. Early winter sunlight flooded into the building, making the colors of the interior appear vibrant and excessive. Able to retrace her steps from the previous evening, Y/N didn’t have any trouble meeting Juliana at the top of the grand staircase.
“Right this way, Miss,” Juliana started down the stairs, Y/N glancing at the portrait of Taehyung on the wall. She hadn’t noticed before, but while he certainly seemed cold, there was a sort of melancholy look on his face.
“Juliana, did um… Master Yoongi paint that portrait?” Y/N launched into her interrogations, the maid cocking her head to look at the painting Y/N was referring to. Y/N had to fight the urge not to cringe when using the ‘master’ title.
“Hmm. I never thought about that! Master Yoongi is mostly known for his work from the Renaissance. Now that you bring it up, however, the attention to detail does look quite a lot like Master Yoongi’s handiwork,” Juliana continued down the stairs, Y/N grasping onto the banister for stability. If Yoongi’s famous artwork was from the Renaissance period, he’d have to be over 500 years old. “Do you like to read, Miss? The library is full of rare books. Master Hoseok has collected them from around the world for hundreds of years. Nadia can show you the way after your breakfast.”
“Oh–”
“Good morning, Miss Y/N, I hope you had a restful sleep,” Edmund was at the bottom of the staircase, interrupting Y/N’s response to Juliana. “Juliana, you’re needed in the laundry.”
“Yes, sir,” Juliana straightened up importantly, bowing at Y/N again. “Have a nice breakfast, Miss.”
Edmund stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching Juliana hurry away out of earshot. The polite smile sort of slipped from his face, attention turning back to Y/N shifting from foot to foot by the staircase.
“Y/N, after your meal, I’d like to speak with you in the pantry. Have Nadia show you the way,” Edmund said quietly, gesturing to the left. Tightness in her chest increased when he said that, following him through the hall.
There was what appeared to be a grotto under the staircase, water trickling from a fountain and a couple of seats facing the structure. Briefly, Y/N thought that that would be a wonderful spot to read. Led to a sage-green room, Y/N blushed furiously when Edmund pulled out a chair for her at the round table in the center of the room. There was only one fine porcelain plate set in front of her, along with silver cutlery and crystal glasses.
“I’ll tell them to send out the food. Please enjoy,” Edmund announced, filling one of Y/N’s glasses with water from a metal pitcher. The butler was gone before she could ask him any questions, but moments later, at least ten staff members were filing into the room.
Y/N’s eyes immediately bugged out of her head. A vat of creamy scrambled eggs, a platter of toast and pastries with jam and butter, plates of crispy bacon and breakfast potatoes, cinnamon-scented oatmeal, even a board with cheeses and bowls of every kind of fruit one could ever wish to try. Staff arranging everything meticulously, she could only blink as someone poured her a mug of coffee with cream and sugar left on the side, as well as a large glass of orange juice.
“W-wait, this is… this is all for me?” Y/N hadn’t seen food like that well, ever. Everything looked gourmet and prepped with love and care. She wouldn’t be able to eat everything, but she was going to try her hardest.
“Yes, Miss. The staff eats before the sun rises,” a young man answered her, setting down a plate stacked with waffles and a gravy boat of syrup. “Meals will be quite large like this until we figure out what your favorite foods are. I hope that’s alright.”
“O-of course,” Y/N felt herself flushing again, swallowing down a mouthful of saliva that was flooding her palate dangerously. “Thank y-you.”
“Enjoy. Call if you would like anything else.”
With that, the staff left her alone in the room, and Y/N didn’t know where to start. She compared the silence of the room to the loud chatter that she would listen to in the Sanctuary’s dining hall. Slowly, she sniffed the steaming coffee in front of her– she had never tasted it. Taking a small sip, she cringed at the bitterness, understanding at once why the bowl of sugar and fresh cream was left beside the mug. Not wanting to waste anything, she stirred cream and sugar into the mug until the drink tasted decent. With eager, shaky hands, Y/N stood with her plate and began to pile food onto it.
Y/N worked herself around the table. Ignoring the feeling of gluttony, she tried every single thing that was left out for her, her plate stacked so high she snorted at herself when she sat back down. To her embarrassment, she moaned in pleasure when she swallowed her spoonful of eggs– buttery and topped with chives. Urgently, she nibbled on a strip of bacon, the meat hanging out of her mouth as she tore a croissant into pieces. Everything she put into her mouth was the most delicious thing in the world, and she felt like a ravenous bear trying to bulk up for the winter.
She stopped eating only when her stomach felt it was going to burst, pushing a bowl of peaches and cream away with a grunt. Y/N did try everything, but it looked like she hadn’t even made a dent in the feast. Wiping her face with a fine cloth napkin, she clumsily got to her feet like a milk-drunk baby. Instantly, several staff members swept into the room when she stood to clear the table, Nadia’s familiar face appearing.
“How was your breakfast, Miss?”
“I’ve never had such delicious food,” Y/N admitted, absently trailing after her head maid through a door connected to the breakfast room, probably leading her to the pantry. “The chefs here must be very skilled.”
“Master Seokjin insists that we hire the finest chefs in the world. Though he is a vampire, he has culinary interests,” Nadia replied, Y/N finding it hard to walk with how stuffed she was. “Edmund told me you two were going to speak. He’s likely going to give you a formal tour and tell you a few things about the manor, day-to-day routines…”
Y/N turned that over in her mind. The look on Edmund’s face earlier had a sort of graveness to it, which she didn’t think matched up to explaining house rules. Y/N decided to keep her mouth shut, hoping at the very least she’d have her questions answered. Suddenly, they were in a room filled with dark wood shelves holding china and crystal stemware, and when Y/N looked up, there was a loft that held even more shelves and dishes. Edmund was by a table in the center of the room, taking notes.
“Thank you Nadia. I know you had some errands to run, so I’ll show Miss Y/N around until the masters return,” Edmund looked up from his notepad, Nadia nodding once before turning on her heel to leave the room.
“Alright, one moment, Miss Y/N…” Edmund said in a chipper tone, moving around the room to shut the doors quickly, which had Y/N suddenly growing nervous– was he trying to soundproof the room, keep the conversation quiet?
“Oh, dear. You do not have to be frightened of me,” Edmund put his hands up when Y/N began to cower in the corner of the room. “I want to offer you information before the vampires return.”
“R-really?” Y/N released the breath she was holding, timidly getting closer to the table Edmund had returned to. He had a grandfatherly look about him, kind and warm. It was not lost on Y/N that he didn’t refer to the vampires as masters.
“It was lucky that they were called away yesterday. I fear you wouldn’t have been prepared had they been here. Now, listen; this is very important. Most of the staff treats the coven like gods. I am the only one in this estate who you can talk about the coven negatively.”
Not a good start, Y/N thought, shivering.
“Negatively, sir?”
“Child. Looks can be deceiving. I know you that in the hours you’ve been here already you have been treated gently. The coven will not follow suit. They are cruel, heartless creatures. You must do everything in your power to not upset any of them,” Edmund enunciated clearly, Y/N’s heart dropping in her chest. “The powers they possess are extremely dangerous. They do not have emotions like you or I.”
“The way Nadia talked about them… painted a different picture,” Y/N uttered desperately, Edmund looking out the window wistfully.
“I’ve been with the coven for decades, while they lived in Europe. Nadia has only been around for five years, and she does not deal with the coven as I do. She has not seen what they’re capable of.”
“Are you telling me this because you feel bad for me?” Y/N suddenly became defensive despite her terror, hating when she was pitied in any circumstance.
“No, child. I want to help you. I want to warn you, before they come back and they size you up,” Edmund shook his head, looking down at the notes he was taking earlier. “You are dealing with four vampires that are very old and disconnected to humanity. The younger three are wild and reckless. It's important to remember this.”
“How old…”
“I’ll tell you a bit about each of them specifically in a moment. My largest piece of advice to you is never directly show the coven you’re afraid of them. Of course, they’ll be able to scent it on you, but do not give away your fear verbally, or you will be backed into a dark corner and toyed with.”
“Oh my god,” Y/N breathed, then dreading the coven’s return to the estate.
“You asked how old they are. I’ll start with the eldest, who is the most respected vampire in the coven– he has seniority, you see, due to his age and his status. Seokjin is 879 years old, and when he was human, he was a crown prince of a Korean monarch,” Edmund began, using a handkerchief to dab his dewy hairline. “He may appear very calm and unaffected, but he absolutely despises humans. He hardly tolerates the staff, and we know not to bother him unless necessary. Under no circumstance should you lie to him, ever. I’ve seen him kill many staff members and even associates over being deceived. One more thing about Seokjin… the ‘power’ he has. Vampires call it ‘Compulsion’. He has the ability to make telepathic suggestions to others in order to control their thoughts, even wipe memories. He can convince a man to jump to his own death, or forget his happiest memories.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. All of the questions that she had come up with before falling asleep completely fled from her mind, and all she could do was grip onto the wooden table with slick palms. Over 800 years old– Seokjin was ancient, otherworldly, and sounded like a monster.
“On the other hand, the youngest in the coven, Jeongguk– just 124 years old. He has the gift of Telepathy, so you must learn to control your thoughts around him. If somehow, Seokjin is unable to find out you lied to him, Jeongguk can tear through your thoughts and report it back to him,” Edmund continued, tapping his notepad with his pen. “Quite a few in the coven have much experience with violence. Jeongguk, when he was human, was a bodyguard to Al Capone. When he was turned, he was not only a bodyguard, but he read the minds of enemy gangs to relay back to Capone. He’s strong and lacks empathy, so he kills without mercy.”
“How… will I be able to control my thoughts? He’ll know I’m terrified, he’ll…”
“I can teach you, when they’re away on business. It is difficult, but can be done. Child, let me finish telling you what I know before they’re due back.”
Y/N clammed up, growing more petrified by the second by each word that came out of the butler’s mouth. By the time he had run through the basic personalities of each of the vampires, Y/N had a cloth soaked in cold water pressed to her forehead. For lack of a better word, she was fucked.
“I’m sorry to tell you all of this,” Edmund said quietly when he was finished, regret flashing over his face. “Just know, you have someone here who is on your side. I’ll do everything I can to protect you from their wrath, or at least train you to handle it. Fortunately, you’re needed by them– while they may be cruel to you, they need you alive in order to sustain themselves.”
“Spectacular,” Y/N wheezed, wishing she didn’t eat so much breakfast. She didn’t want it to make a second appearance. “To think I was going to press you for information. I don’t know if I was better off in the dark or not.”
“Certainly not. You know what to expect this afternoon, somewhat. Keep your guard up, and try to keep your fear in check, and the introduction can go smoothly,” Edmund insisted. “Perhaps… while you wait for their return, you can peruse the library, as Juliana suggested.”
Edmund began to open the doors again, and Y/N understood that meant their conversation was as good as over.
“Edmund?”
“Yes, child?’
“Won’t they know that you warned me about them? Will you be punished?”
“Don’t worry about me, child. The coven knows how I feel about them, it’s earned me a teaspoon of respect. Besides, no other butler in the world wishes to work for them. Rumors of their behavior, you see,” Edmund placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, smiling faintly. “Come. I’ll give you a brief tour and then escort you to the library.”
About fifteen minutes later, Y/N was left by herself in the dark, intricate library. Hardly giving the alleged ‘rare’ books collected by Hoseok a glance, she sank down into a chair by the fireplace, staring into the flames blindly. Curiosity killed the cat, and Y/N hardly knew what to do. Every single one of the vampires were murderous, unfeeling monsters with horrifying powers. Powers they’d likely be using on her any moment.
Y/N didn’t know who she was afraid of the most. Seokjin sounded menacing, Jeongguk dangerous and immoral. The others, she didn’t even know where to start sorting out what she learned. There was Hoseok, Y/N’s eyes shifting to the weathered books on the shelves, who was once a pirate over four hundred years ago, and had the ability to ‘Track’ people by scent. Edmund told her that Hoseok could find anybody without fail and even predict their future moves. He was greedy, fond of drinking, and impulsive.
She wondered if it was Namjoon she was most afraid of. His power was definitely the worst one: with eye contact and focus, he could inflict pain on others compared to being burned alive, a power called Pain Illusion. Apparently, he was once a Korean military general roughly four hundred years prior, and once turned, he became a sword-for-hire. Edmund told her that he enjoyed the kill, enjoyed watching others suffer, and was second to Seokjin as far as the hierarchy of the coven. Like the elder vampire, Namjoon had a disdain for humanity. Edmund told her to be especially careful around Namjoon, as he was a known sadist.
Head in her hands, she groaned. Yeah, Namjoon definitely was the scariest. The other three were no daisies, either, but the thought of having to experience what Namjoon’s Pain Illusion felt like was enough to have her heart racing.
Apparently Taehyung is the most deceiving of the bunch. He had all of the etiquette of a Gilded Age businessman, but Edmund relayed that he was absolutely ruthless when it came to his affairs and could Glamour his appearance. Jimin, a famed playwright of romantic tragedies the same years Jane Austen was active, was notoriously manipulative, hedonistic, and a feared Hypnotist. Finally, the artist, Yoongi– apparently studied under an artist named Leonardo da Vinci, and was secretly known for using his power of Paralysis on his models so he could paint them for hours without interruption.
That tacky sort of nervous sweat began to roll down the notches of Y/N’s spine. None of the vampires sounded friendly at all. Y/N knew that it would be wishful thinking to expect all of them to be somewhat tame, but she had hoped for at least one that wouldn’t be insane or murderous. Hugging her knees to her chest, Y/N counted her breaths to calm down. Heeding Edmund’s initial advice would be wise; trying to keep her thoughts bland, maintaining aloof confidence. Not bursting into tears, or trying to hide behind Nadia’s skirts.
Chin resting on her knees, Y/N closed her eyes. She wondered what Meredith and Joseph were up to. In the mornings after breakfast, typically they'd have study and silent prayer in the chapel. Y/N considered herself to be somewhat of an atheist, so usually she’d daydream while on her knees, eyes glazed over. Meredith would let Y/N lean her shoulder on hers, and Joseph would make sure she wouldn’t fall asleep and get punished. Sadness filled her at the thought of her memories. It was likely she’d never get to see Meredith or Joseph ever again. Too busy wallowing, Y/N jolted in her seat when Nadia appeared in front of her, repeating her name several times.
“Miss, the masters have returned. We must greet them outside,” Nadia offered Y/N a thick winter jacket, Y/N audibly gulping. She’d run out of time.
Heart thundering in her chest, Y/N shrugged into the maroon felt coat, shuffling after Nadia with resignation. It was like the a monarch was coming, countless members of staff hurriedly heading to the front entrance or flying up the stairs with various linens. Deciding to think of only her friends, Y/N replayed scenes of the two of her closest kin harvesting vegetables in the gardens during the summer months. Reading with Meredith by candlelight in dramatic voices. Horsing around with Joseph in the hallways when they were supposed to be dusting statues.
Outside, the grounds were clearer to her in the daylight. In the spring, the landscaping was probably breathtaking. Quietly, she stood between Edmund– the head butler, and Nadia– the former giving nothing away regarding their private discussion surrounding the coven. Holding her breath, Y/N watched the large iron gates swing open, the purr of car engines filling the quiet street.
Biting back a surprised noise, Y/N supposed she shouldn’t have been stunned to see a line of luxury cars pulling into the drive. The first in line was a sleek, vibrant-blue colored sports car, followed by a cushy looking black sedan, two black SUVs, and two more small sports cars– one in cherry red and the other canary yellow.
No one said a word. Y/N counted the vehicles again– there were only six. Again, she was thinking about the excess of wealth. Would it kill them to share cars? Bouncing on the balls of her feet, the blue sports car’s doors opened first– upward, like a spaceship. In succession, the rest of the roaring engines cut off and Y/N stared blankly at the carport’s carved stone ceiling to put off matching names to faces. She hadn’t even considered how old they looked physically, were they middle aged– Christ forbid, were they teenagers?
“Master Seokjin. I trust everything went well?” Edmund bowed deeply, Y/N urgently copying the movement when the butler glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“Who’s this little girl?” Seokjin ignored Edmund’s question, Y/N’s eyes on the highly polished loafers that were just in front of her.
Y/N finally straightened up to take a look at the vampire in front of her, and all of the oxygen was sucked out of her lungs when the most beautiful face she had ever seen was studying her right back. He appeared to physically be in his early thirties, but the faraway look in his eyes gave away his true ancient age.
Tall, broad, and dressed in an expensive looking suit, the dark-haired vampire had his full mouth twisted into disapproval. With his short, choppy bangs, they gave a perfect view to sculpted eyebrows, a pallor to his flawless skin, and of course, the red eyes narrowing while he waited for an answer. Y/N felt like she had to look away, so her eyes slid from Seokjin’s statuesque face to the second figure disembarking from the blue sports car, the passenger.
“This is Acolyte Y/N, from the local Sanctuary. The AB- donor. She arrived last night,” Edmund bowed again, this time at the second vampire storming up the steps to the front door.
“Take this upstairs, Nadia,” the second vampire, again, an exceedingly gorgeous man, barked. While his voice was rich and smooth like silk, he curled his nose up in a snarl when he spotted Y/N beside her head maid.
“Yes, Master Namjoon,” Nadia grunted when a briefcase was shoved into her chest, Namjoon scoffing once at Y/N before disappearing into the mansion. Three things Y/N noticed about him: the skinny Asian-style sword strapped to his massive back, the thick leather gloves on his hands, and the air of total hatred coming off of him in waves.
“Didn’t think she’d be such a… scrap of a thing,” Seokjin sounded bored, almost disappointed she wouldn’t put up a strong fight.
“The Sanctuary diets aren’t particularly nutritious. She’ll gain more muscle and mass after a few weeks with our great chefs,” Edmund reassured the eldest vampire, whom Y/N wished would stop staring at her and simply go inside.
“Make sure she’s present for dinner,” Seokjin drawled, lifting an eyebrow at Y/N. Was… she for dinner? “I have calls to make. Tell the chefs twelve courses tonight, rich food. The little girl needs more meat on her bones to be of actual use.”
With that, Seokjin brushed past the butler, Y/N’s head already spinning. Next thing she knew, there were three more vampires stalking towards her and Edmund, Y/N wondering which one was the one that could read her uneasy thoughts.
“Oh? A little dove!” A borderline childish voice is what caught her attention first, wicked delight coloring his tone.
If his eyes weren’t so frightening, the grin stretching across the vampire’s face could have been on the cover of a magazine. He flicked his overgrown black bangs out of his face, biting down on his plump lower lip with a sharpened fang. Contrary to the chilly weather, all he wore was a loosely buttoned, thin white shirt, revealing a large strip of his pale bare chest.
“Jimin, don’t get carried away like last time. You’re always breaking your toys,” One of the others, leaning against a stone column, picked his nails while tsking. That particular vampire wouldn’t even spare her a glance, his wavy dark hair curtaining his face. While his body was lean, hands were extremely weathered compared to the rest of his smooth, pushing-30-years-old complexion.
Knees wobbling from that remark, the third vampire, who was eyeing every inch of her thoughtfully, noticed the movement with a slight smirk and a narrowing of his feline-like eyes.
“Aw, that wasn’t my fault, Hoseok. Don’t listen to him, little dove! We’re going to have fun together,” Jimin, evidently, pouted, but the effect didn’t soothe her when she saw a psychotic glint reflected in his irises. “Ugh, I hate traveling. I hope there’s wine in my room…”
Jimin winked at her as he slunk inside. Rolling his eyes, Hoseok, the most casually dressed so far in a simple dark turtleneck, trailed after, Y/N noticing how sharply cut his jawline was and the geometrically perfect way his nose turned up into the air.
“Master Yoongi, is there anything I can get for you before you resume painting?” Edmund cleared his throat, the long-haired vampire finally stopped smirking at Y/N, shaking his head silently. As soon as Yoongi stopped looking at her, she felt like she could breathe again, her fingertips twitching. “We’ve purchased fresh oil paints, as per your request.”
Wordessly, Yoongi was in her presence at once, and the next, with a blur, he was gone.
“Vampiric speed,” Edmund murmured, Y/N swallowing thickly. She had forgotten that not only did they have individual powers, but they had strength and speed, as well. Only two more to go– Taehyung and the mind reader, Jeongguk. “You’re doing well.”
The driver of the second car that had pulled into the driveway, the black sedan, finally cut the engine. The second SUV, the first of which belonged to Hoseok, had long since been turned off but no one emerged from it.
“Master Taehyung typically likes to take a walk around the grounds after returning from business. Here, however, is Master Jeongguk,” Edmund schooled his features, him and Y/N robotically bowing at the final vampire she was to greet. The mind reader.
“Hello,” Y/N blurted impulsively, much to her chagrin. The youngest vampire appeared to be around her age, perhaps a year or two older, and besides his ghostly complexion and red eyes, Jeongguk looked remarkably like a human man– perhaps like Joseph, but far more muscular.
“Edmund, I’m assuming this human is the AB- acolyte?” Jeongguk completely ignored Y/N, which had humiliation pulsing through her body painfully. “Let’s see, you. Look at me.”
Y/N froze, Jeongguk stooping to make his face completely level with Y/N’s. Suddenly, the grip she thought she had on her thoughts melted away into nothing, and she got lost in the doelike quality of the youngest vampire’s eyes.
“Typical, Edmund. Warning her about us? All you did was terrify her,” Jeongguk murmured, his youthful voice but a coo. Y/N knew not to trust it, especially when his chilled index finger jabbed into her cheek. “Who’s Joseph, AB-? A lover from the Sanctuary?”
Y/N’s tongue turned to stone in her mouth. Like his covenmates, Jeongguk was extremely handsome, but taunted her coldly. Luckily, she had motor function, shaking her head in the slightest. Tongue probing into the meat of his cheek, Jeongguk stood to his full height, the dark brown trench coat he was wearing hiding just how truly large he was.
“You’re fortunate you’re the only butler available to us. Your head would be on a pike, if it were up to me,” Jeongguk, in a mild tone, addressed Edmund, who simply looked at the vampire placidly.
“Yes, sir,” Edmund took a leather bag from the vampire, Y/N unable to believe how easy it was for Jeongguk to enter her mind– her memories pulled from her mind to his in hazy flashes that had her skull throbbing.
“Y/N,” she flinched when Jeongguk addressed her by name, whipping her head around to watch him stalk up the stairs behind her, wearing a murderous smirk. “Wear something pretty to dinner, alright?”
Acid began to crawl up her throat, and when Jeongguk disappeared in almost a mist, Edmund placed a grandfatherly-like hand on her upper arm.
“Relax now, Y/N. You did well. Very well. You won’t see any of them until dinner. Returning to your bedroom for now would be wise, Nadia will help prepare you for the meal,” Edmund whispered, gripping Jeongguk’s bag in one of his hands. “Head in, child. You’ve been in the cold long enough. Soak up the warmth, while you can.”
It was a miracle that Y/N didn’t make deep dents in the carpet of her bedroom as she paced back and forth. Escorted to her room after meeting six out of the seven vampires, Y/N was left to her own devices that afternoon. Nadia had left her a stack of books to entertain herself before dinner, Y/N thinking that she’d rather swallow shattered glass than sit at a table with the monsters.
Halting, Y/N stood in front of one of the windows, hands coming up to brace herself on the windowsill. The ocean was choppy thanks to a biting wind blowing in from the North, the color of it almost black. Was it too late for her to jump off of the cliff? If she made a run for it, would anyone catch her before she could fall to her merciful death?
Eyes glazed over, her fingernails dug into the flesh of her palms. Suddenly and inexplicably, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, like a cold draft of air swept through the room. Ears picking up movement, Y/N spun around, a startled yelp coming from her mouth at the sight of the figure at her door. One of the vampires actually sought her out, lazily trailing his crimson eyes up and down her form. Tripping backwards, Y/N’s back was pressed into the icy windowpane. The vampire boldly stepping into the light, Y/N realized who it was before he even opened his mouth.
“Be careful, little dove. It would be a shame if you fell through the glass and cracked that skull of yours open before we even had a chance to play,” Jimin teased, though the taunt was far from an innocent jest.
“W-wha–”
“I said, careful. Think about how to speak to me before you stutter out something disrespectful,” Jimin sneered, crossing the room in a split second. Flinching, his face was mere inches from hers, his skin so pale it was almost translucent. His eyes, while certainly red, were sort of a dulled tone, and there was nothing good-natured about his expression at all.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, voice cracking. Jimin seemed to accept the apology, tsking and backing up a degree. Y/N forced herself to remain calm, the vampire pushing up the sleeves to his blouse. His chest was even more exposed than it was before, his muscles seemingly carved from white marble.
“That’s better, dove,” Jimin hummed, falsely sweet. “You can’t wear those rags to dinner. Juliana!”
Jimin’s voice was sing-songy, the vampire putting his hands on his hips and tapping his foot impatiently. Swallowing with great unease, Y/N’s palms were slick as she held onto the windowsill. Then, the sound of hurried footsteps flooded into the room, Y/N’s fright easing a degree when Juliana and several other maids joined her and the vampire in the bedroom. At once, Y/N’s eyes went owlishly wide, each of the maids carrying brightly colored gowns, stacks of velvet boxes, and more pairs of shoes than she could count.
“The latest fashions… Chanel and Dior, Cartier jewelry. Fashion design has come a long way these last few centuries– not bad for a bunch of humans,” Jimin seemed like he was talking to himself, plucking a heavy looking necklace up from the open case Juliana was holding. Y/N still couldn’t get over the childlike lilt to his voice, paired with the unsettling confidence he carried, cautiously returning eye-contact when he sauntered towards her.
“Dressing your new doll, Jimin?” Hoseok appeared in the doorway, Jimin still entirely focused on getting Y/N pinned to the window. The older vampire had a bottle of liquor in his grasp, an amused smirk on his face. Y/N felt ill.
“Rubies suit her, don’t you think, Hoseok?” Jimin bit down on his lip with a fang, like he did earlier. Then, his voice took on a silky tone, an index finger curling in her direction. “Come here, dove.”
Y/N didn’t want to comply, but after nearly a heartbeat, everything in her body was telling her that it was okay, more than okay, to get close to Jimin. She wanted to, needed him, it felt like she could hardly breathe. In a darkened corner of her mind, Y/N’s rational self realized Jimin was using Hypnosis on her, and there was nothing she could do to resist his his call. Moving on autopilot, Y/N almost stumbled over her feet to close the distance between herself and the vampire.
With a satisfied, wicked grin, Jimin tilted his head, looking down at her through his dark lashes. Spellbound by his presence– how had Y/N gone her entire life without him? Unprompted, she gathered her hair up and held it over her shoulder, exposing her bare neck to the vampire. Excitement flashed through her when Jimin licked his lips, and when his chilly fingers traced along a fluttering vein by the base of her throat, Y/N squirmed in delight. So removed from herself, as if in a trance, she obediently stayed still as Jimin clasped the necklace around her throat. Past the haze, she could hear an amused snort coming from Hoseok watching by the doorframe.
“Isn’t that nice?” Jimin hummed, adjusting the jewelry so it sat perfectly on her clavicle. Boldly, he tugged at the neckline of her sweater, exposing more of her skin, the strength in his touch stretching out the flimsy wool with ease.
“Very obedient, pet. Juliana, get her ready for dinner,” Hoseok snarked, taking a swig from his liquor.
Slowly, like roots of a tree pulling up from the earth, the influence Jimin had over her mind and body untangled from her being with a deep ache. Different from the throbbing, disorienting pain that filled her brain when Jeongguk infiltrated her thoughts, Jimin’s affect gripped her entire being as if her bone marrow was bruising. With a whimper, Y/N staggered to the side, Juliana promptly righting her by one of her arms. Jimin had used his vampiric speed to join Hoseok at the door, winking at Y/N trying to catch her breath.
“Here, Katie. Make the human a pre-dinner cocktail. She looks like she’s going to suffer from a paranoid break. I abhor hysterics,” Hoseok loudly placed his glass bottle of booze on one of Y/N’s nightstands, addressing an older woman who was holding several silky dresses in her arms.
With that, the two vampires shut the door behind themselves, the sounds of their expensive shoes marching down the hallway, leaving Y/N to figure out what just happened. The necklace around her throat felt like a ten-pound weight, and if the room wasn’t full of maids who acted like nothing happened, she would have ripped it off and pelted it at the bedroom door. Noise buzzing around her, rustling of skirts, the only thing that kept her on her feet was Juliana’s arm slung around her lower back.
“Alright, Miss, let’s get started on your bath,” Juliana said airily, Y/N feeling a single tear slip down her cheek, which she hurriedly swept away with her sweater sleeve before anyone caught it. “I have the most lovely hairstyle in mind for you. Master Jimin seemed to like that necklace on you, so we’ll pick something red to go with it.”
Y/N was astonished. Juliana was in the room when that whole interaction happened, was she not? Did she not see how Jimin hypnotized her, and was she not disturbed by it? Perhaps it was something only Y/N and the two vampires could sense happening, but Y/N had never felt more vulnerable and alone. Hollowly, she let Juliana herd her into the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat, she wasn’t fully listening to the maid, tracing her fingers over the polished stones around her neck.
“The chefs have been working so hard today on the meal, it’s going to be wonderful, Miss Y/N! I helped the executive chef select ingredients at the finest market in town,” Juliana tested the water coming from the bathtub’s tap, pouring various vials into the water. “I picked up some moisturizing rose oils, bubbles, and powdered milk for the bath. I even managed to find dried flowers, which is rare for this time of year. Come, I’ll wash your hair for you.”
“H-huh?” Y/N squeaked, not wanting to strip her clothes off in front of somebody else.
“It’s quite alright, Miss. We’re your personal maids, there is no reason to be bashful,” Juliana insisted, keeping her eyes low, but helping Y/N to her feet. Too afraid to protest, Y/N stood statue-still as the maid carefully removed the necklace Jimin put on her and handed it off to another nameless maid. “Have you ever heard of a spa day? Think of it as that!”
“Spa day?” Y/N repeated stupidly, blushing furiously when she was left in just her brassier and the scrap they called underwear. Juliana turned, allowing Y/N to remove her undergarments and get into the mass of perfumed bubbles piling up in the tub. “Never heard of that… is that a holiday?”
“No, Miss,” Juliana giggled, her cheeks pink with merriment. “You’ll just enjoy some beauty treatments. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to do things like this, so you’ll have to forgive us if we go overboard with spoiling you.”
Dumbfounded was the only word for how Y/N felt. At that point, she was going to get whiplash from being treated like a princess by the staff at one moment, and like a toy by the vampires the next. Bitterly, Y/N came up with the hypothesis that the reasons she was getting ‘spoiled’ was either out of pity, or that the vampires wanted their toy shiny and flawless. Katie, the older maid from before, appeared with a crystal glass filled with some kind of bubbling liquid, a slice of a blood-red orange floating amongst real ice cubes.
“As per Master Hoseok’s request, Miss. It’s a blood orange rum sour, his favorite,” Katie slightly bowed, a wisp of gray hair falling from her low bun. Alarm bells went off in Y/N’s head.
“Blood?”
“It simply refers to the color and variety of the citrus, dear. Not actual blood,” Katie’s mouth twitched, like she was trying not to laugh. Y/N took a sniff of the drink, recoiling slightly at the burn in her nostrils. She knew it was alcohol– something she never tried before.
“Alcohol isn’t allowed at the Sanctuary. They tell us it’s bad for acolytes,” Y/N felt like a lamb going up for slaughter, unsure and anxious. Warm water was being poured down her back from a cup, where Juliana was slowly soaking the strands of her hair to wash, and it made her shiver.
“Well, dear, you’re here now. You may drink as much as you or the Masters deem suitable,” Katie bowed again, whisking away back into Y/N’s bedroom to select her dinner outfit.
If she knew anything about alcohol, it was that it had the ability to steel one’s nerves. Which was something she desperately needed- so bravely, her eyes fluttered shut and she took a hearty swig of the cocktail. The first thing that washed over her palate was bright, juicy citrus, but when she swallowed, the burn of alcohol made the contents of her stomach sting. Grimacing, she willed herself to drain the glass, wondering when she’d feel the effects. Gut boiling, she kept her eyes shut as Juliana worked shampoo into her hair.
“You have such pretty hair, Miss Y/N,” Juliana complimented, Y/N’s cheeks hot– not just from the compliment. A haze, a pleasant one, had her humming. Was it the way Juliana was massaging her temples, or was it the booze flooding through her system? “Anything else we can get you? Another drink?”
“Okay?” Y/N replied, just a tad bit more comfortable with asking for things. Juliana called out for Katie while she rinsed Y/N’s hair, the warm water making her sigh.
And when she had another drink in her hand, Juliana wrapping a hot towel around her conditioned hair and a third nameless maid using a sandy scrub to slough off flakiness from her years-neglected skin, Y/N started to feel giddy. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad– being pampered sure was nice, and Y/N had always been strong-willed. Edmund was right, earlier; the vampires needed her alive, so they wouldn’t dare kill her. To Y/N’s knowledge, there wasn’t another human in the nearest Sanctuaries with blood as rare as hers.
It was like she could feel her backbone growing, only peeling one of her eyes open when something odd was gliding up her legs. Cocking her eyebrow curiously, she watched the third maid– Mei– use a razor to shave downy hair from her legs. Strange.
When she was sufficiently scrubbed, shaved, and presented with oil and lotion to apply, Y/N was left in the bathroom to dry off and slide into a terry cloth robe. Wobbling a little when she got out of the tub, Y/N giggled as she slathered herself with a floral scented lotion, her legs foreignly baby-soft. The cocktails were certainly doing their job, Y/N pinching her cheeks in the mirror and fixing a determined look on her face.
She was always the brave one amongst herself, Meredith, and Joseph. Why should she dissolve into a puddle of helplessness and meek responses? Even though she was being made over into a perfect angel for a group of demons, she held significant power. She didn’t need the coven to survive, but they did.
With renewed courage, Y/N returned to her bedroom. That time, only Nadia and Juliana remained, both of them waiting for her by the old vanity that was littered with appliances, jewelry, and cosmetics. The sun was starting to set, making the sky a burnt orange over the silver ocean.
“How’re you feeling?” Nadia smiled at her through the mirror when Y/N sunk down onto the stool, Y/N returning the expression. She thought that might have been the first time she smiled in the previous 24 hours.
“Relaxed,” Y/N answered honestly, sitting still while Nadia worked a silky product through her hair. Juliana, however, began selecting various powders and tubes and comparing them to Y/N’s complexion with a concentrated pout.
“Fantastic! I’m pleased to hear,” Nadia seemed to glow, like it was her life’s duty to pamper and please Y/N.
Lapsing into silence, Y/N stared at her reflection while Juliana began to dust her face with powder, and Nadia fired up a device that seemed to dry her hair. Buzzed, she watched the two maids make her up into a princess that Y/N used to read about with Meredith, her unruly hair manipulated into a pretty style, shimmering ruby gloss being painted across her lips.
Once the ‘hair dryer’ was switched off, Y/N dared to ask a question that popped into her mind when she got to the bottom of her second cocktail in the bath. Rolling back her shoulders, she got Nadia’s attention while she was sliding a sparkly hair clip into Y/N’s hair. When the query left her lips, both of her maids' expressions went from merry to grim– which wasn’t encouraging.
“Nadia, what happened to the coven’s previous donor?”
“Where is the human sitting?” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, a dull ache all over his body. It had been too long since he had fed on human blood, and his immortal body was feeling the deprivation. “Might I suggest… not next to Jimin?”
“Why, do you want that little girl at your side instead?” Seokjin hardly looked up from the documents he was signing, already seated at the head of the dining room table. “You’re not the greedy type, Yoongi. Leave that to Hoseok.”
Yoongi curled up his lip into a snarl, but would not offer a retort to the elder vampire. Really, the only one who had the balls and Seokjin’s grace to allow challenging was Namjoon. With a sigh, Yoongi took his usual seat, his fangs aching. Since they returned to the estate, the scent of AB- blood intensified Yoongi’s longing to have a taste of that sample the coven received earlier in the week. Idly, he traced the veins on the back of his hand– usually pale blue, but with the lack of blood flowing through his system, they were nearly dark gray.
“Which documents are those?”
“From the UN. They want us to sit in on an Assembly in December,” Seokjin sounded terribly bored, mostly because he was to death. Another human war he’d have to offer expertise on, expertise that would probably be ignored. After all, Seokjin and his covenmates were really only invited out of fear.
“What a pain in the ass,” Hoseok arrived at the table, collapsing onto the seat beside Yoongi. Kicking his feet up on the polished table, narrowly missing the china that was set there, Seokjin’s pen-scratching stopped. “I hate New York City. Filthy place. Should have burned it down when I still had my ship.”
“Was New York even established when you still had a ship, Captain Morgan?” Seokjin snarked, staring once pointedly at the bottle of rum in Hoseok’s hand, and then at his boots on the table. “Put your feet down, now.”
Hoseok rolled his rust-colored eyes but obeyed, knowing not to anger Seokjin unless he wanted Namjoon to use his ‘gift’ on him. Taking a swig of the rum, Hoseok frowned– the longer he went without human blood, the duller his taste buds got. He only tasted a flat note of cinnamon, not even the sting of the liquor. Hopefully, he’d get a taste of the mousy acolyte that night.
Snapping his fingers sharply, a staff member appeared out of the shadows to take the signed documents from Seokjin. With mild annoyance, he checked his watch for the time; he told Nadia, the human’s maid, to have the girl at the dinner table at 8 PM sharp. Nadia still had ten minutes before her life was in danger. Seokjin couldn’t stand humans who couldn’t follow simple directions.
“Is twelve courses really necessary? We’ll be here for hours,” Hoseok complained, mostly because he’d have to hear the chefs drone on and on about the ingredients of each dish and the beverage pairing that went with it.
“You saw how pathetically frail that human was. If she is to serve us, she needs to gain weight,” Namjoon thundered into the room, his tread heavy and confident. He sat closest to Seokjin, on the left, his expression made of stone. Again, Hoseok rolled his eyes.
“I agree. With just a few gulps, I could drain the little dove dry,” a melodious voice joined the conversation, Jimin giggling when he sunk into his chair just across from Namjoon. Annoyed with the buttons on his shirt, Jimin tugged the last one free, letting both sides of the garment hang loose.
Namjoon set his jaw in warning, already bracing himself for how insufferable Jimin would become with the arrival of the girl. Namjoon thought it was beneath him to interact with humans unless necessary, while Jimin preferred to see just how far he could push them. Jimin simply grinned back at Namjoon, slow and seductive, a muscle pulsing in the elder vampire’s cheek.
“Control yourself, Jimin. You’re on thin ice,” Seokjin leaned back in his chair, his voice airy and high. His voice had even forced Namjoon somewhat stiff. “Taehyung, have you contacted Berwind?”
The owner of the estate the coven currently called home made his entrance, still in his tweed suit from earlier. Taehyung looked exactly like he did in the portrait of himself hanging above the grand staircase. It’s like time, for Taehyung, stopped in 1869.
“Wait, why?” Hoseok straightened up, with distaste on his face when Taehyung took the opposite head of the table– across from Seokjin. “That guy is a blowhard.”
“Well, the blowhard might be our newest partner for marine affairs. You want a new ship, do you not?” Taehyung pointed out blandly, rubbing the grayish veins over his temples. “We’re going to have to host a party soon. He won’t agree to anything unless we get a selection of acolytes and fine wine.”
“She has five more minutes…” Seokjin murmured to himself, secretly wishing Nadia would give him an excuse to blow off steam. “Where is Jeongguk?”
“Hyung,” Namjoon cleared his throat to get Seokjin’s attention, pointing to the door leading into the butler’s pantry.
Jeongguk emerged, his hands shoved into his pockets as a very sheepish looking set of sous chefs followed him with silver trays.
“I don’t know why they expected us to eat food when the lack of blood has stolen our sense of taste,” Jeongguk drawled, a chef shakily placing a cordial glass in front of Seokjin.
It contained the remainder of the AB- sample, the acolyte’s blood. The glass was hardly on the table before Yoongi snatched it up, draining it in one go. Anything to relieve the ache. Even after five hundred years, Yoongi could never get used to the feeling of being starved.
“So sorry, Masters,” one of the chefs bowed, Namjoon’s eyes narrowing. Normally, he would have broken a limb for the forgetfulness, but he didn’t have it in him that evening. “Hors d'oeuvres will be out momentarily.”
Jeongguk scoffed, glancing curiously when Seokjin started tutting as the youngest vampire began to take his usual spot beside Namjoon.
“What’s wrong?”
“Leave a space between you and Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin ordered firmly. “The human will sit between you two, lest she decide to flee the table, you two will be able to restrain her swiftly.”
Jimin pouted, his lips stained with the blood he sipped from his cordial glass. Seokjin was about to get up to deal with Nadia failing to follow his order when every vampire in the room paused, clumsy footsteps hurrying in the direction of the dining room. Covered poorly by expensive perfume was the scent of unease, alcohol, and mortal vitality.
“Cutting it close, Nadia,” Seokjin purred, the maid blushing as she ushered the young acolyte into the dining room.
The girl, dressed in a velvet ruby cocktail dress, fidgeted with the short hem of the garment while gawking at the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Her racing pulse was audible and visible; veins fluttering at the base of her throat.
“I apologize, Master Seokjin. I’m afraid Juliana and I got carried away with dressing Miss Y/N for dinner. It has been a while,” Nadia bowed, the human acolyte flinching when Jimin was abruptly at her side. “Please, enjoy dinner. I’ll take my leave, now.”
“Oh, our little dove! You’re in the Mugler dress, your maids chose so well…. Matches the rubies perfectly,” Jimin cooed while poking the choker around her neck, the rest of the vampires knowing that there was nothing sweet about Jimin’s approval. Jimin, despite the raised brow from Seokjin that was directed towards him, took up one of Y/N’s trembling hands, dragging her further into the room.
“Thank you,” Y/N breathed, intimidated and sounding like she was far from flattered. Jimin delighted in the way her body completely locked up with his touch, her palm slick with perspiration.
Stumbling in her heels, Y/N had no choice but to be escorted to the table by Jimin, her large eyes widening when she realized who she was to be seated between. Pulling out her chair like a perfect gentleman, Y/N snatched her hand back as soon as she tumbled onto the velvet cushion. Jimin didn’t seem to care, simply smirking, stalking back to his own place at the table. There was a pause, Y/N glancing around the room at both the fine decorations and the vampires, fingers still twitching at her dress hemline. It was likely she hadn’t worn something so revealing before.
Y/N blinked when her sight landed on one of the heads of the table, the vampire in the portrait on the staircase staring back at her blankly. He looked precisely like he had in the painting, down to the light-colored suit. Sure, his face was a bit more drawn and he was much paler, but it was almost like he stepped out of the canvas like a realm-walker.
Nervously, she peeked to the left, where Namjoon was, the vampire taking a sip of a red liquid from a small glass, his leather gloves still on his large hands. He caught her gaze from the corner of his sharpened eyes, Y/N knowing at once what he was drinking– far too viscous to be wine, too red, it had to be blood. Whose blood it was, exactly, Y/N hoped she’d never know.
“It’s yours, of course, remnants of the sample. Humans are so dim,” Jeongguk easily read her thoughts, not even having to put in effort to enter her mind. Even with the lack of effort, he could tell Y/N was uncomfortable with him probing around in her skull, the girl wincing and rubbing her forehead.
“Do not sap her of energy yet, Jeongguk. She must eat so she can be useful,” Seokjin sighed, still tasting her on his tongue. Though she was malnourished, her blood was still the finest he had tasted in centuries.
“What were they feeding you at that sanctimonious dump, pet?” Hoseok, still lazily slouching, drawled. Y/N hesitated, not knowing whether or not to reply, making Hoseok grow impatient. “Speak when spoken to. Articulate.”
“U-uh, um… organ meats, mostly. Lentils and kale,” Y/N squeaked, her complexion a touch green.
“Poor little dove. How repulsive,” Jimin pouted, the expression teasing.
Y/N opened her mouth, fidgeting in her seat, Taehyung watching her mortal movements with fascination– they could never quite sit still. Before she could speak again, squirming under the weight of seven ruby gazes, staff members dressed in suits and white gloves came from the butler’s pantry carrying dishes. One of the staff members was carrying a silver ice-bucket with a bottle of wine, Y/N eagerly waiting for more alcohol to take the edge off. Whatever she had earlier had long since worn off.
“Good evening, Masters, Miss Y/N,” a man in a chef’s uniform began, standing beside Seokjin at the head of the table. “Tonight’s hors d'oeuvres is oysters rockefeller with Sambuca and garlic-buttered sautéed spinach, paired with Clos des Bouquinardieres Muscadet. Please enjoy.”
Jeongguk laughed when he read Y/N’s mind trying to wrap around unfamiliar words. Rubbing her forehead again, she stared at the odd thing placed in front of her. As someone poured wine for her– to her disappointment, only about an inch of liquid splashing into the glass– she was immensely curious about the seashell placed delicately on a tiny plate, containing something breaded within.
“Never had seafood before?” Hoseok raised a dark eyebrow, ignoring the oyster and going straight for his wine.
“This is seafood?” Y/N blurted, Jimin finding her innocence quite entertaining. She was like a young girl he’d write as his heroine in one of his tragedies. Hoseok, however, glared at Y/N’s failure to answer his question. “I’ve just had t-tuna before… M-master Hoseok.”
“Master! Look at that, the pet is already learning her place,” Hoseok’s laugh was boisterous, bouncing off of the great walls, a thin whimper leaving from the back of Y/N’s throat. Namjoon had heard whimpers like that millions of times: pure, involuntary fear. It made him smile behind the rim of his wine glass.
“Enough. Eat,” Seokjin’s voice was a hiss, plucking up the small fork specifically for shellfish. “Yoongi. I want you to get in touch with some artists in Italy. We’ll invite them here when we host Berwind, you know how much he loves being in the company of talent.”
Yoongi chewed the oyster thoroughly, relieved that he could actually taste the flavor after just a small sip of the acolyte’s blood. All of the painters Yoongi once knew, the ones he actually wished could be present during a party, were long since dead and gone. He’d have to write to modern artists, who would be frothing at the mouth for an opportunity to meet Yoongi. What a bore.
“I’ve seen Gianluca Traina, his work isn’t half-bad. I can reach out to him and Agostino Iacurci,” Yoongi leaned back, letting a staff member take his plate. His hands itched to paint, loathing that he’d have to sit through eleven more courses. In particular, as he watched the young human girl cautiously raise a fork to her mouth, he wanted to capture how she looked when she tasted a flavor brand-new to her. “They’re no Boticelli or Michelangelo, though.”
“Too bad your mentor wasn’t turned,” Namjoon spoke up, though Yoongi knew Namjoon really didn’t care one way or the other.
“Da Vinci would have hated the modern age,” Yoongi muttered nonchalantly, Namjoon scoffing at the name-drop. Not that the human would have known who the artist was, Namjoon confirming that she had no idea who Leonardo da Vinci was when she peered at Yoongi vacantly, draining her wine glass with a shaky grip.
Y/N felt the wine burning in her stomach, stuck between relieved that she was being ignored for the moment and filled with anticipation for the next time the attention would be on her.
“Next we have the amuse-bouche. Pickled baby beets with herbed goat cheese, candied kumquats and basil chiffon. With it we have Sancerre.”
The chef reappeared, the next small plate and glass of wine placed before Y/N. The food, so far, were like works of art, and Y/N almost felt bad eating it. Especially when she thought about the bland, mushy pile of goo her fellow acolytes at the Sanctuary were picking at while she ate like a queen.
Mercifully, all the vampires talked about for quite some time was the event they were planning for the following week, and they left Y/N alone. Her guard was not coming down any time soon, so she stayed quiet as a mouse through each course.
Acorn squash soup garnished with pepitas, purple radish microgreens and sage oil with prosecco. Native lobster, roasted heritage carrots, carrot puree, buttermilk puree, spiced crumb and chardonnay. Kale and brussels sprout salad with maple-candied pecans, honeycrisp apples, pomegranate and lemon vinaigrette with sauvignon blanc. Ingredients, flavors, and textures Y/N never even dreamed of before. By the time she stuffed the last slice of apple from her salad into her mouth, Y/N was already feeling quite satiated, and the wine was dizzying up her head. Or perhaps it was Jeongguk still fishing though her mind.
“Seven more courses, human. Don’t think you can leave this table before then,” Jeongguk reminded her mildly, her suspicions confirmed. Thankfully, she caught herself before she could grumble at him.
“Tell me, little girl. Did you spend your entire life in that Sanctuary?” Seokjin asked, curious about how much she knew about vampires. That, and he was concerned about her purity; though judging by her innocence, he didn’t predict that to be too much of a problem.
“No, Master Seokjin,” Y/N replied, apprehensive towards a round of questioning.
“Elaborate.”
Swallowing, Y/N glanced down at the fish that was just delivered to her, stomach turning. She found it hard to look at any of the vampires for too long, but Seokjin’s face was so hauntingly beautiful, it hurt to look at.
“I was brought to the Sanctuary ten years ago, when I was fifteen. I grew up on the outskirts of town and was raised by my grandmother. When she passed away, I drifted until I was caught by wardens who were testing human’s blood types on the street.”
“I’ve noticed those vans around town. Wardens drive them around looking for new acolytes,” Jeongguk remarked helpfully, when Hoseok looked distantly confused.
“You have the rarest blood type in the world. How is it that you were not immediately sent to a Sanctuary upon your birth? It is the law,” Seokjin was frowning, extremely annoyed. Fifteen years of alluding a system set up so meticulously led him to believe she’d be wayward.
“I was born off of the grid, not in a hospital. My grandmother faked my blood results later on, when we were visited by Sanctuary wardens,” Y/N spoke softly, too afraid to raise her voice. She didn’t like the sharpened edge to Seokjin’s tone.
“I don’t understand how an elderly woman could have pulled that off,” Hoseok said, his mouth flattened into a line. “What happened to your parents, pet?”
Y/N flinched, reluctant to give up a vulnerability to the predators. She knew she wouldn’t be able to conceal her thoughts, however, with Jeongguk still prying into her head. With the fish cleared away, a roasted chicken was put in front of her– this time, with a glass of red wine. Before answering Hoseok, she sucked down the velvety liquid.
“My mother died in childbirth, I never knew her. Apparently my father was just a fling, I didn’t know him, either. It was just me and grandma,” Y/N pushed a strand of pasta around on her plate, doodling shapes with the tip of her fork in the creamy sauce.
“The little dove is an orphan. How tragic,” Jimin’s excitement was paramount. There was nothing he loved more than a heroine with an ill–fated past. Y/N was disturbed by the twinkle in his eyes, barely able to finish the rest of her chicken.
“Um, it’s alright. You can’t really miss what you never knew,” Y/N spoke impulsively, like she was talking to Joseph or Meredith rather than seven vampires who were effectively perfect, lethal strangers.
“Adorable,” Jimin gushed, licking his lips. Yoongi, beside Jimin, pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated with Jimin’s theatrics. It came naturally to Jimin, being a writer of dramas and screenplays, so Yoongi couldn’t actually fault him for it, but it was dreadful to withstand.
Blood rushed to Y/N’s face, the three youngest vampires in the dining room becoming coiled and ready to pounce. Seokjin simply held up his hand disinterestedly, a silent order for the fledglings to get control of themselves.
“Oh! What’s this?” Y/N had become incredibly loosened up thanks to the seven various wines she tasted over the course of the evening, cocking her head at the small silver dish placed in front of her.
“Miss, it’s a lime sorbet with mint to cleanse the palate before the second main course,” A staff member poured a bubbly wine into a skinny flute for her, presenting a miniature spoon for Y/N to use.
“Sor-bet…” Y/N repeated slowly, scooping up some of the treat, the iciness washing over her tongue bizarre and making her audibly exclaim. A frozen sweet wasn’t something she was able to have at the Sanctuary, and it brought a tear to her eye.
“They brought out the Dom Perignon, what do they think, we have the Pope here?” Hoseok lifted his champagne flute to his face, watching the bubbles dance in the glass.
“Is it expensive?” Y/N dared to ask, a distant part of her screaming to shut up. Hoseok’s expression darkened when she addressed him, so she instantly corrected herself. “Master Hoseok.”
“Taehyung will only drink expensive wines. That champagne you so hastily gulped down is the most expensive vintage wine that money can buy, pet,” Hoseok smirked, Y/N becoming embarrassed that she did, in fact, knock the drink back.
“You paint me as a snob,” Taehyung frowned, earning a dry chuckle from Jeongguk.
“Take a look around this place, for Christ’s sake. Of course you’re a snob,” Jeongguk remarked, gesturing around the lavish dining room they were seated in.
Y/N was positively stuffed. In fact, she clasped a hand over her mouth when a rack of lamb and rice replaced her empty sorbet dish, not wanting to eat another bite. She felt if she did, the velvet dress she was in would rip open.
“You will eat it all,” Seokjin barked when Y/N made no motion to pick up her fork, the sound making her flinch into Namjoon’s thick shoulder. The vampire stiffened, a disgusted look on his face, Y/N’s skin flashing with heat. “You will eat it, or I’ll allow Jimin to go over there and force-feed you.”
That threat terrified Y/N, Jimin’s grin widening when she caught his eye. Without another second spared, Y/N began cutting through the meat, much to Jimin’s disappointment. With a bereft sigh, Jimin leaned on his elbows, craving some trouble he could stir up.
Diligently, Y/N picked her way through the final courses, nearly gagging on the rich chocolate truffles that ended the meal. She was laughed at again– that time by Hoseok, when she asked if she could really eat the ‘gold leaf’ dusted on top of the dessert. The final drink that was offered was an espresso ‘martini’, which is what careened Y/N out of tipsiness and straight into dizzy intoxication. Giggling for no particular reason, Y/N started folding her napkin into different shapes, forgetting who her company was.
“She’s a pretty little dove, isn’t she?” Jimin held his face in his hands, ravenous even though he had plenty of human food in his stomach.
“Those words are familiar,” Jeongguk deadpanned, Yoongi spotting where things were going a mile away.
“I bet she’d look pretty all drained, too. Like the last girl,” Jimin’s voice was dreamy, and it was fortunate that Y/N was too distracted by her cocktail to pick up on what he was going on about.
“Watch it,” Jeongguk warned, not wanting to end the evening with Jimin’s dramatics.
“Oh, come now, Jeongguk… don’t you want to pin her down, fangs in her throat?” Venom flooded into Jimin’s mouth, watching Y/N’s pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. “We could always find another, too, after we drain her. You take a wrist, I’ll–”
“Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin interrupted quietly, looking up towards the chandelier. The whole table went silent, Jimin’s mouth slamming shut, regret all over his sculpted face. With a grunt, Namjoon stood from his seat, slowly stalking around the table.
Y/N’s attention towards the vampires was recaptured when she noticed Namjoon, eyes dark and determined, approaching Jimin. The silence deafening, Y/N watched curiously when Namjoon bent low, face close to Jimin’s. Even Y/N could sense Jimin’s fear, and it made her instantly nauseous.
Namjoon gripped Jimin’s sculpted jaw, his gloved hands rough against Jimin’s skin, and for a moment, Y/N thought Namjoon was going to kiss the younger vampire. Narrowing his eyes, Namjoon squeezed Jimin’s jaw, Jimin going absolutely rigid when they made eye contact, the martini glass Jimin was holding shattering in his grasp. Horrified, Y/N watched Jimin shake, eyebrows scrunched up in agony, and she realized Namjoon was using his ‘gift’ on Jimin. For what, she wasn’t sure, but it was terrifying that he could inflict so much pain on even a vampire.
“Enough,” Seokjin called, Namjoon releasing Jimin’s jaw at once, and the younger vampire gasped for breath, his body sagging over the table. “I told you you were on thin ice, Jimin.”
“Sorry,” Jimin heaved, only apologetic because he had to suffer from Namjoon’s Pain Illusion. The sensation of being burned alive was unbearable, but he didn’t regret what he said. Besides, it was trouble that he was craving earlier.
“No you’re not,” Namjoon hissed, Y/N unable to process how scary Namjoon looked, standing beside Seokjin with his arms crossed. Y/N swore to herself, in that very moment, she would do everything in her power to avoid Namjoon using Pain Illusion on her.
“Can we wrap this evening up now?” Yoongi asked, peeved. He wanted to isolate, to paint.
“Not yet,” Seokjin twirled an empty wine glass contemplatively, his eyes then on Y/N. “Come here, little girl.”
“W-what? Why?” Y/N asked with dread, still nauseous. Seokjin clicked his tongue, agitated.
Come here, little girl.
That time, Seokjin’s voice was in her head rather than out loud. Forgetting that he could use Compulsion, she felt her skin crawling hearing his dulcet tones inside of her head. Staring at her expectantly, Y/N was frozen in her seat. Seokjin snapped his fingers, and Namjoon rounded the table again, hooking one of his gloved hands under Y/N’s bicep. Roughly hauling her to her feet, she was effectively dragged to the head of the table, Y/N starting to hyperventilate and panic. Namjoon’s grip was bruising, her skin smarting when he let her go.
Sit.
Seokjin’s voice in her mind was firm and authoritative, spreading his legs expectantly. Y/N’s eyes bugged out of her head– there was no way on God’s green planet she was sitting on that vampire’s lap. Still borderline hysterical, she did the only thing she could think of: beg and plead.
“P-please, please. Don’t hurt me,” Y/N had a tear running down her cheek, Seokjin’s expression hardening at the sight.
Sit down.
Suddenly, Y/N’s spine went rigid. Seokjin’s mental suggestion didn’t seem so bad, then. Even though she was still crying and breathing heavily, her body moved on its own, lowering herself onto one of Seokjin’s thighs. The power of his suggestion, his Compulsion, was impossible to override, so embarrassingly, she was perched on Seokjin’s lap. The vampire curled a hand around her waist, his hold ironclad, to keep her in place. Panic setting in further, Y/N continued to beg the eldest vampire pathetically.
“Please, I’m begging you,” Y/N whimpered, Seokjin setting his wine glass down and tracing his fingers over a steak knife beside it.
“Jeongguk, Taehyung,” Seokjin sighed, exhausted. The little girl was proving to be difficult, so he’d need some persuasion to keep her quiet. Confused, Y/N looked at Jeongguk, more tears slipping down her face when she felt him worming her way into her memories.
“I do not know if you’re aware how a coven operates…” Seokjin began, Y/N finding it hard to focus on his voice while Jeongguk was in her head. “But as the head of the coven, I must be the first to bite you. However, my covenmates… they’re starving.”
Chest heaving, Y/N hated the sturdy feeling of Seokjin’s chest pressed against her back. He was cold, plucking up the steak knife and totally indifferent to her hysteria.
“Y/N, it’s okay!” A familiar, cheery voice had her head snapping in an opposite direction, pure amazement washing over her at the sight of the person across the table.
It was Joseph, from the Sanctuary, dressed in his usual white linens and grinning at her. The sight of him had her tears drying up, even if she had no idea how her friend had gotten there. She didn’t even notice he had taken the spot that Taehyung once sat in.
What Y/N wasn’t aware of was how Joseph managed to arrive at The Breakers. It was simple: Jeongguk found memories of Joseph in the acolyte’s mind, Seokjin pried the image of Joseph from Jeongguk’s report, and sent it to Taehyung, who then Glamored himself as the acolyte’s friend. The visual of her former friend was enough to have Y/N calming down somewhat, Taehyung keeping up the act by using words that ‘Joseph’ would.
“I bet that meal was a lot better than the Sanctuary slop. We had canned tuna tonight.”
“Joey? How did you get here?” Y/N breathed, watching Joseph (Taehyung) push a hand through his dark curls, one of his common habits.
You are going to be calm while I do this.
Seokjin’s voice, a siren’s call in her brain, told her. She wasn’t entirely focused on the vampire whose lap she was sitting in, hardly aware that he was holding onto her wrist with a cold hand. All of her panic went away instantly, melting on Seokjin’s lap, limp for him.
“Just visiting. Actually, it’s really nice here, isn’t it?” Joseph replied, Taehyung wondering just how close the two of them were as he saw Y/N through Joseph’s eyes.
“I-I guess?” Y/N answered, still staring at her friend in disbelief. She froze when she felt something cold and sharp against her wrist, looking down to see that Seokjin had the steak knife against her skin. “Wait, what are you–”
“Y/N, I think you’ll be happy!” Her friend interrupted, distracting her. Taehyung inwardly smirked at how easy it was to fool her.
“H-how? Ah!” Y/N yelped, Seokjin dragging the knife’s blade across her flesh, cutting into the skin. A three inch long gash was created, blood immediately spilling down her palm, Y/N out-of-body when Seokjin placed her wrist over the empty wine glass.
“Look at me, Y/N. It’s alright. Hey, remember when we used to weed the garden together and see who could pull out the most dandelions?”
“Uh-huh,” Y/N’s voice was far away, somehow relaxed in Seokjin’s arms and talking to her friend even though her wrist was just slit. Joseph was right, it was alright, everything was okay, and she’d be fine. “You’d always win.”
“That’s right, squirt. You could never beat me.”
His nickname for her had a stab of pain rocking through her. It really was Joseph!
“J-joey,” Y/N began, feeling lightheaded from the blood flowing from the gash on her wrist. “What were you trying to tell me when they took me away?”
Joseph seemed puzzled, Taehyung unfortunately not having an answer. Thinking on his feet, he composed himself, leaning forward, and came up with a response the girl would likely be satisfied with.
“Oh, I said that I’d write to you every week. That I’d never forget you.”
Y/N didn’t reply, her expression wiping blank. Taehyung didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Surprisingly, Jeongguk couldn’t even decipher what she was thinking when he probed into her skull. All he felt coming from the girl was deep remorse.
Then, Seokjin lifted her wrist again. Trembling, she turned to get a look at his perfect face, gasping sharply when the vampire brought her hand close to his face. Full lips parting, his tongue dragged along the cut he made on her wrist, and Y/N gawked in awe as she watched Seokjin’s eye color go from rusty to deep, dark red.
“Vampire venom can cauterize wounds,” Taehyung’s low voice rang out, and when Y/N turned her head, Joseph was gone and Taehyung had returned to his seat. It was then that she realized she had been deceived, and her heart dropped. Joseph was never truly there, it was Taehyung Glamoring himself to make her docile.
“Pass it around,” Seokjin spoke from behind her, his grip likely leaving a deep bruise on the small of her waist while Namjoon reached for the wine glass– nearly full to the brim with her blood.
With horror, Y/N watched Namjoon take a deep gulp from the glass, color returning to his skin which took on a golden tone. His eyes, too, became richer in color, and in a daze, Y/N was still as the glass made its way around the table, each of the vampires seemingly coming back to life as soon as her blood touched their lips.
Stay still, little girl.
Seokjin, still ordering her around mentally, started to gather her hair in one of his fists, pushing it over her shoulder to expose the column of her neck. Helplessly, all Y/N could do was squeeze her eyes shut, knowing what was coming.
A pair of cold, but plush, lips parted against her throat, the eldest vampire collecting her in his arms firmly as razor-sharp fangs brushed her skin. Gripping the edge of the dining table, she shrieked when she felt Seokjin’s fangs sink into her neck.
There was a stinging sensation– probably the venom– but a head-to-toe pain flooded through her all at once. It was repulsive to feel Seokjin’s temperature immediately heat up, his chest becoming warm like a human’s, all because of her blood flowing into his mouth. Unable to move due to his supernatural strength keeping her caged, she felt hot tears pouring down her cheeks while Seokjin latched onto her. The recognizable sensation of blood leaving her body, the sensation she hated more than anything, was intensified now that it was literally being sucked out of her.
“Please,” Y/N wheezed, broken. Everything was spinning, and her vision was dimming.
Finally, Seokjin’s fangs retracted, the girl like a rag doll in his lap when he used his tongue to stop the bite from bleeding further. Though she was slight, simple, and weak, her blood was life-giving, and some of the best blood he had ever tasted. The emotion he was feeling, using the back of his hand to clean up the trail of blood dripping down his chin, was comparable to human amazement that he hadn’t felt for over eight hundred years.
Y/N was completely shaken. Over the course of several minutes, she was manhandled and maimed, deceived and manipulated, and bitten. It was more horrible than she ever could have imagined, her head fuzzy and the side of her throat throbbing painfully.
Get up.
Seokjin’s voice haunted her, and she never wanted to hear it again. She knew, however, it was just the beginning of him residing in her mind, and it made her want to use the bloodied steak knife he used on her to cut her own throat. His mental suggestion was so powerful that she actually ended up struggling to her feet, finally out of the eldest vampire’s proximity.
“What did I tell you all? She’s a good little pet,” Hoseok, the picture of vitality with her blood in his system, chuckled, Y/N’s knees buckling before she collapsed on the floor.
Taglist; @hanmyjisung @kiki-zb @hemmofluke @lovelyglares @honsoolfilter @kaeya91 @alessiamalfoyzabini @wisejudgepandafan @yoongtism @moonj-oon @melidramatic7 @the-theban-script @cryingnotcrying @m00njinnie @maeveontherun @tinybasementmaker-blog @jasmin-loves-k-pop @justlikecrazy @neverthefirstchoice @chibimanda @kayways @adoreyou976 @darkpuppysuit @mischieviouscassie @monkeytime3474 @asillyduck15 @a2zure @oopscoop @ellaints @artfrhe @trustfratedjin @lightwxodd @drenix004 @xicanacorpse @mar-lo @ancagab16 @imnotsleepyo__o @yxmer @levislifeline @susi-199 @bratalicious777 @lilacdreams-00 @tnafzi @miniminaa1412 @sassy-snassy @lilyalone @butterymin @dearbambideer @mar-lo-pap @chxmachxps @mxymii @wiredlifee @dachshunddame @1lykk1tts @opalturtle @nikkiordonez12 @justagirlinlovewithsevenboys @deemiin10 @yoonepilogue @7angelsinthiscruelworld
Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!
#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts ot7 x reader#vampire au#yandere au#vampire!bts#yandere!bts#bts yandere au#bts vampire au#bts fic#bts au#bts vampire x reader#bts yandere x reader#yandere bts#vampire bts#bts vampire fanfic#bts yandere fanfic#namjoon fanfic#seokjin fanfic#yoongi fanfic#hoseok fanfic#jimin fanfic#taehyung fanfic#jungkook fanfic
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Sharing a Jacket - Drabble
Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
“I told you to wear appropriate clothes,” he muttered beneath his breath, words laced with his usual displeased venom, “Look at you. A shivering mess.”
His glare was colder than the wintery air of Snezhnaya, his eyes making you tremble more than the snow. Scaramouche was dressed more appropriate for the weather, in a heavy coat. Fatui issued, you know as much, you'd seen his coworkers wearing one similar. Despite your adamant hatred for the organization, specifically the one you married, you couldn't help but long for one yourself as the sharp air seemed to practically cut your skin.
You shivered, teeth chattering and finger tips going cold. He was right about telling you to dress appropriately, but you'd assume this harbinger event would be indoors and went lacking on your usual attire. As such, you were now stuck in ankle deep snow, wondering how even the sunlight of Snezhnaya was cold.
“Come here,” he ordered, using his hands to spread open the insides of his cape. He seemed clearly upset, more than usual, but still allowed you into his arms, where the warm cape was wrapped around you as well. Your face nestled against your chest, all you could think about was how you hated the touch of the man, but you wouldn't complain, not when he was providing you with more warmth, that was only growing hotter with your body heat.
“Thank you, my lord,” you managed to stutter out into the fabric of his shirt, followed by a sniffle from your red, runny nose. The apology was forced from your lips, it wasn't very often that you were grateful for anything that he'd given you.
He merely hummed, a usual response for him. His arms around your waist somehow felt better than the icy cold air, causing you to only press against him harder.
“Be glad that I love you,”
#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere x you#yandere scaramouche x reader#yandere scaramouche#yandere imagines#scaramouche x reader
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till death do us part
pairing: jiaoqiu x gn!reader
genre: fluff, angst
summary: your dream was to be a healer, his was just to follow you, so how did it end up this way?
word count: 1.1k
a/n: wrote this before 2.5 was released (because i loved him the moment i saw his release) , this is just my own headcanon about why jiaoqiu "withdrew from medicine with a broken heart", hope yall enjoy (,, . ̫. ,,)
for as long as you could remember, a certain, teasing pink furred foxian stuck to your side like a burr. he followed you everywhere, like a shadow, though the jiaoqiu then would protest otherwise. he was your protector, he would huff, cheeks puffed out in indignation.
sometimes, jiaoqiu led you through the warbling creeks and rustling bushes, on a mission to help you find herbs. other times, you led him by the hand, playing general and soldier in the streets. the locals knew, if they wanted to find either of you, spotting the other half of the duo would often lead them to the person they wanted.
your childhood aspiration was to practise medicine and become the best healer, while his was more simple-minded. he just wanted to follow you, to be with you.
“to the ends of the planet?” young jiaoqiu’s head wobbled forwards and back fervently in agreement. “but what if i die?” hearing those words, jiaoqiu’s busy hands froze, eyes growing comically large, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his soft ears flattened against his head in displeasure, sticky fingers reaching out to pinch your baby fat. “no! stop thinking like that!” he chided.
your tinkling laughter hugged his fluffy ears. “im just kidding, no need to look so worried.” you dismissed easily, turning back to sorting your herbs.
jiaoqiu’s nose crinkled as he looked down at the pile of bitter-smelling herbs, before his shoulders slumped in despair. they all looked the same, how was he ever going to learn them all?
seeing his face, you quietly chuckled into your hand.
“silly goose!” you teased. “you dont need to study medicine if you find it so hard.”
jiaoqiu pouted, feigning sadness at your teasing, tail drooping sadly towards the floor, a frown surfacing on his face.
he only hoped that there wouldn’t come a day that he would regret not taking up medicine.
the wintery cold lingered in the air, jiaoqiu’s sensitive nose picked up the hints of the scent of spring. time had flown by quickly, his initially small and pudgy figure shooting up to an unfair height, his face sharpening, growing into those classic foxian features. it was down right injustice really, how such a man had a wonderful and pleasing face as his.
though you didn’t realise it, your own height had lengthened too. if you asked jiaoqiu, you looked as striking as your youth, if not even more. every time he saw you, his heart would beat quicker. your touch sending sparks flying on his skin, the warmth lingered after your hand was long gone.
jiaoqiu could only thank the aeons that his ears were not the colour of a tomato, though he doubts his soft cheeks could say the same. whenever he saw you, a cloud of red dusted his cheeks.
the loud, red firecrackers boomed in the courtyard of the yaoqing. cheers of joy and sobs of relief echoed behind.
today was the graduation of the yaoqing healers. after so many years of hard work in the pollen and dust filled cabinets of the yaoqing medicine storage, you were glad to be out of the stuffy old place.
though jiaoqiu didn’t outwardly express his joy like you, his secretive smile and curved eyes told enough of his happiness. he was proud of you, fearlessly taking on every challenge learning medicine had thrown at you and creating your own solutions.
when you eagerly ran up to him, he engulfed you in his warm embrace, one tooth-achingly sweet grin from you cracking jiaoqiu’s mask, a suppressed grin of amusement and adoration surfacing from beneath. with your signature clap and handshake, the two of you made your way home, you skipping along the path, while jiaoqiu sauntered behind you, listening to your cheerful chatter.
how did it end up this way? it was supposed to be a routine round…
you were merely assigned to patch up wounded soldiers. so how was it that you were now bloodied, clinging to that thinning thread of life?
the rain poured down, a witness to the tears of jiaoqiu. his arms cradled your fragile body close to his chest, his warmth a campfire that roared against the encroaching cold.
the droplets slapped across your cheeks, a harsh reminder that you were clinging onto the edge of consciousness. the world was a blur of rain and darkness. you were vaguely aware of a warmth pressing against your cheek. you peeled open your tired eyes, trying to gain a sense of where you were. last you remembered, the encampment had been attacked.
“jiaoqiu?” you whispered out feebly, the words barely escaping your lips, which were slowly turning blue. “im cold. i feel so cold… i think im bleeding somewhere, it hurts...” you nestle in towards jiaoqiu’s warmth, seeking warmth as the cold seeped deeper into your bones. “you’re warm…” you trail off, the chattering of your teeth drowning out the rest of your words. your thoughts began to fade away, slowly bleeding out, like the blood from your wound.
how did it end up this way?
jiaoqiu’s trembling fingertips frantically tapped against your cheek, eyes wide with fear and desperation, in an effort to keep you awake.
you blinked up weakly at jiaoqiu, focusing your energy on staying awake. “jiaoqiu?” you meekly called out. “you look better when you smile, smile for me…please?” you pleaded quietly.
through the raindrops and tears that coated his face, jiaoqiu tried to smile, the corners of his lips twitching into a sad smile. seeing him give you a feeble grin, your face mirrored his, a shallow smile etched on your face.
‘if only i knew how to stop the bleeding…if only i learned, instead of giving up halfway, maybe i could be more use.’ jiaoqiu thought bitterly to himself, scorning his own stupidity.
with an effort, your shaking hand reached up towards jiaoqiu’s face, cradling his cheek. “dont be sad, smile for me. thank you for being with me.” you whispered.
“please dont leave me.” jiaoqiu pleaded, his voice cracking with sadness. “we still have so much to do. you’re gonna be ok.” jiaoqiu chanted the last 4 words like a mantra, a prayer that the aeons turned a deaf ear to.
the surrounding din of the world faded away, your life playing back before your eyes. you thought of all the moments you had shared with this sly foxian, wishing for just one more day, nay, even a second and you would be satisfied. but jiaoqiu was here, holding onto you and that was enough.
a final sighing breath slipped from your lips, your eyes losing their spark. your hand fell away from his cheek, head lolling to the side. in death, you were serene, a faint smile on your face—an angel taken too soon.
the rain fell harder, as though the heavens themselves were mourning your death, while jiaoqiu bowed his head, tears cascading like a waterfall of sorrow.
taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox
∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#jiaoqiu#jiaoqiu x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#jiaoqiu x you#hsr#hsr jiaoqiu#honkai star rail jiaoqiu#x reader#jiaoqiu angst#angst#hsr angst#hsr x gender neutral reader
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intro post ☁️
“is that really what we’re naming our blog..?” [ 🤖 ]
“yep!” [ 🎀 ]
“are we sure that’s going to make a good impression, mizuki..?” [ ❄️ ]
“i trust her judgment. plus, we are just 9 bad bitches in a trenchcoat!” [ 🎧 ]
~ ooc under the cut [LONG POST] ~
hey there! it’s another new sideblog from your favourite project sekai-obsessed autistic tboy
this blog is run by @olly-png and takes a lot of inspiration from @ask-polysho and @ask-mizuena-official!! go show those blogs some love <3
this timeline is set a few years in the future and is on the same track as the @ask-ruikasa-official blog.
tagging system
#ask polysekai — general tag.
#wishing star — saki speaking
#an’s articulations — an speaking
#hamster thoughts — kohane speaking
#wonderhoy! — emu speaking
#popping puyos — nene speaking
#the composer — kanade speaking
#wintery wonders — mafuyu speaking
#canvas chats — ena speaking
#fashionista foolery — mizuki speaking
speaking system
“hii!!” [ 🎹 ] — saki
“hey!” [ 🎧 ] — an
“hi..” [ 🐹 ] — kohane
“HIYA!!!” [ 🍬 ] — emu
“hey.” [ 🤖 ] — nene
“hello..” [ 🎼 ] — kanade
“hello.” [ ❄️ ] — mafuyu
“heyyy.” [ 🎨 ] — ena
“hi hi!” [ 🎀 ] — mizuki
mod information
this blog is run by @olly-png as i said earlier, so if you want more info on me go check out my blog!
i’m a minor so please keep that in mind when interacting with this blog or any of my other blogs!
i use he/him pronouns, i am transmasculine. i am also autistic, so tone tags would be awesome!
i don’t expect a lot of activity on this blog — it’s just something fun for me to do.
i have a typing quirk so unless i am pretending to yell, i avoid caps like the plague! sorry.
if you send an anonymous ask with anything graphic or triggering, it will be deleted and you will be blocked. sorry man.
pro-ana content and pro-s/h content triggers this user.
setting
as i said, this is technically a future au. anyone who was a senior post-3rd anniversary is 22-23 depending on birthday.
the polycule lives at the tenma household—the tenma parents have moved out, and left the house for saki, tsukasa, and toya to share. akito and toya also live here. tsukasa lives with rui in an apartment.
headcanons
saki
21
she/her
represented by the 🎹 emoji and this colour
cheerful and bubbly
very empathetic
5’2
physically disabled and switches between crutches and a wheelchair based on how she feels
majoring in music at university
on the chubby side like her brother
an
21
she/they
represented by the 🎧 emoji and this colour
witty and clever
ADHD
5’7
working at their dad’s café
muscular from frequent exercise
kohane
21
she/her
represented by the 🐹 emoji and this colour
sweet and a bit timid
somewhat shy and very soft-spoken
5’2
working with an
mid-sized with little muscle
emu
20
she/her
represented by the 🍬 emoji and this colour
hyper-positive
age regresser (usually to around 4-7)
ADHD
4’11
unemployed but still performs with wxs
plus sized and very athletic and flexible, has the most energy during shows
nene
21
she/they/he
represented by the 🤖 emoji and this colour
a diva for sure
pretty chill, but intense about his special interests
autistic and sometimes nonverbal (uses robo-nene to talk)
5’1
unemployed but competes in video game tournaments and earns money sometimes (also is emu’s main caregiver)
thin and unathletic. sometimes struggles to keep up in shows and often employs robo-nene
kanade
20
they/them
represented by the 🎼 emoji and this colour
calm & soft-spoken
often has to be reminded to care for themself
major depressive disorder, recovering from an eating disorder and has some sensory issues
5’0
bruises easily
does music commissions for money
sickly frail thin. cat dipped in water
mafuyu
23
he/they
represented by the ❄️ emoji and this colour
logical and often cold
can have empathy but often struggles to show it
a lover of physical touch
transmasculine
PTSD, depression & anxiety
6’0
majoring in literature at university and working at a diner part-time
plus size and incredibly strong. freak of nature /positive
ena
22
she/her
represented by the 🎨 emoji and this colour
sassy and swears the most frequently
cares a lot though, and knows what the best gifts are for everybody
anger issues like her brother, both are trying to work on them
5’7
majoring in graphic design at university, taking art commissions
mid-sized and fairly strong. very low centre of gravity
mizuki
21
she/they
represented by the 🎀 emoji and this colour
loves fashion. very skilled tailor
loves to tease rui for everything
audhd
5’9
majoring in fashion design
a bit on the chubbier side and very strong; tailors her clothes to make them fit her figure
akito
20
he/him
represented by the 🥞 emoji and this colour
eepy boy..
determined but overworks himself
adhd
5’7
performs at weekend garage with toya and the band
pretty thin; permanently cold — hence the layers
toya
20
he/they
represented by the ☕️ emoji and this colour
level-headed and logical
represses a lot, needs help opening up
anxiety
5’11
performs at weekend garage but otherwise stays home
plus-size but more limber than akito
that’s pretty much all i got for you all. also akitoya are minor characters don’t make them the blog focus pretty please thank you
#intro post#ask polysekai#wishing star#an’s articulations#hamster thoughts#wonderhoy!#popping puyos#the composer#wintery wonders#canvas chats#fashionista foolery
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Wintery
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!vigilante!reader
Summary: Gotham winters are brutal, but your best friend Jason Todd and work friend Red Hood know how to combat the cold. Unfortunately, you're falling in love with both of them.
Warnings: reader and Jason don't know the other is a vigilante, fluff, brotherly teasing, kissing, more fluff
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: I have no idea where this idea came from but it wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it. I hope it's okay and feel free to let me know what you think!🤍
Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info
Picture from Pinterest
Gotham winters are cold, windy, and relentless. There are few places to find refuge from the harsh bite of the chilling wind and fewer remedies to the wind-burned skin and seemingly permanent chapped lips.
Jason Todd, however, is a Gotham boy, born and raised, so he knows the importance of staying moisturized and protected in the winter. So, it's no surprise that he keeps lip balm in his pocket all winter.
No, it isn’t intimidating to see Red Hood putting Chapstick on, but having cracked lips is far more frightening. He finds quiet alleys, tipping his helmet up to combat dry lips before returning to his vigilante duties. Nightwing has only caught him once, and Jason is intent on never experiencing that level of brotherly torture (teasing) again.
✯✯✯✯✯
Since joining the small group of vigilantes, Red Hood has captured and kept your attention. Never saying more than a few words to you, he always seems nearby and eager to help you out of trouble, but you can’t get past that point.
Nightwing and Robin occasionally tell you their ideas to get him to open up to you, convinced there’s something between you, but you brush it off and admire the man in red from a distance.
The night wind is blowing hard enough you’re uncomfortable standing on such a high roof. You tuck yourself behind anything stationary, including Red Hood.
Under the hood, Jason smiles to himself. He knows why you’re standing close to him, your concern for the wind mixing with an irrational idea that he will allow anything to happen to you. But, if you want to use him to block the wind from your pretty face, he’s happy to stay perfectly still. However, his gaze keeps dropping to your lips.
Jason watches you; he has been since you first stumbled upon them in a less than satisfactory suit. You were bleeding from a run-in with several muggers but smiling through your pain because you managed to make someone feel safe in Gotham; a rare feat unless you’re Batman. Instantly drawn to you, Red Hood has let himself get close enough to consider you a friend but not close enough to talk to you or worry incessantly about where you are through the day.
You say something, and Jason shakes his head to escape his memories of you, focusing on you and your dry-lipped smile. The winds are blowing up the building and into your face even as he blocks the worst of it, and your rosy cheeks amplify Jason’s growing concern. He wants to offer his jacket to you, even his chapstick – an unwelcome idea of kissing you to share it enters his mind, but he shoves it away. Or tries to; the imagined feeling of your lips on his is hard to shake.
After your question goes unanswered the second time, you wonder if Red Hood fell asleep under the helmet. He jerks sideways when you slide your hand into his pocket. His grip falls away from the holster on his thigh when he realizes it’s just you. (Though he’d never think 'just you' about anything.) You pull your hand out of the worn leather jacket, a small white tube in your grasp. Keeping your eyes on the small eye slits of the mask, you uncap the balm and put it directly on your lips.
“Thanks,” you say, smiling as you place it back in his pocket before turning away.
Anyone else, and he’d throw it away, unwilling to share such a personal item, but since he just thought about sharing it in a much different way, he doesn’t mind the idea of you doing it again. He’ll have to remember which pocket he put it in and leave it there for you, he decides.
✯✯✯✯✯
“It’s freezing,” you groan, rubbing your arms as you walk inside the warm apartment. “Why can’t we move to Metropolis?”
Jason laughs at you, his best friend. Since he developed what Dick refuses to call anything but “a crush” on his vigilante partner, he’s wondered what this thing with you is. You are his friend, of course, but there is something more there. Jason has never been good with feelings, and he’s in a strange spot between two women who affect him, similar yet completely different in how he responds.
“Because we can’t afford it,” Jason hums, welcoming you onto the couch beside him.
You slide your cold feet under his sweatpants-clad legs, sighing when he lays his arm over your shoulders.
“We who, Mr. Trust Fund Wayne?” you tease, leaning your head against his upper arm. “Thanks for inviting me over, though, even if I did get frostbite on the way.”
Jason chuckles, stopping short when he remembers something someone else said after fighting Mr. Freeze during a riot at Arkham. Shaking his head, he determines that he has a type.
“I’m stealing this,” you interrupt his reading, pulling a hoodie from the back of his couch.
“Be my guest,” he murmurs, watching you pull it over your head. You feel warmer beside him after a few minutes, and when you dig a small tub of lip balm out of your pocket, Jason wonders if he should move to Metropolis.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Where did it go?” Jason says to himself, barely audible through the voice modifier of the mask.
“Whatcha looking for?” you ask, dropping to the fire escape beside Red Hood. He doesn’t answer, but when you realize all his attention is focused on one pocket, you know. “Really? I need it again, too,” you lament.
Red Hood sighs, turning toward you. Your lips still look fine, with no sign of chapping in sight. Deciding he needs it more than you do, Jason seizes the opportunity.
Pushing his helmet up, he grabs your face between his warm, gloved hands. Pulling you against him, Jason presses his lips to yours, moving with you as the moisturizing gloss spreads across his lips.
“Better?” he asks, smirking before his face is hidden behind his helmet again.
Your face is still in his hands as you nod. “Nightwing took it,” you whisper.
Jason rolls his eyes and leans forward, whispering, “Who needs it when I have you?”
“You do,” you reply, dumbfounded and breathless from the kiss you’ve admittedly been daydreaming about. “I got mine from you.”
Red Hood laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. You think for a moment you’ve heard that laugh before, but then the idea disappears.
✯✯✯✯✯
The next day, you beat Jason back to his apartment after leaving the manor. Letting yourself in, you walk to his bookshelf to see if he’s gotten any new books. A leather jacket is lying on the floor beside the shelf, and when you pick it up, something falls out of the pocket.
“Hey,” Jason greets, closing the door behind him.
Turning, you hold the chapstick up, looking at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
“Yeah?”
He comes to your side, his brows pinched.
“Are you-“
You drop everything in your hands before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. As you kiss him, everything clicks into place.
Falling in love with Jason and Red Hood simultaneously wasn’t some cruel trick of fate or a mistake… you’d been with the same guy all along.
Pulling back, Jason takes a moment before opening his eyes. He blinks at you several times, trying to speak and failing.
“Really?” you ask, tilting your head. “I see that made a much bigger impact on me than it did on you.”
Jason still can’t answer, his mind going over each similarity that he should have caught on to, each mirrored movement or similar response. Your kiss, though… your kiss is unmistakable. He believed his lies about the touches and the words, but nothing can compete with your affection.
“Thank you,” Jason whispers, pulling you close again.
“For what?” you ask, brushing your fingers through the white streak in his hair. “It took me way too long to realize.”
“For everything,” he answers before kissing you again.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your first patrol after learning not just Red Hood but everyone’s true identities is interesting. Bringing your own protection against the current blizzard, you're grateful for the foresight after you get separated from Jason.
Waiting near Arkham and shivering in the cold, you don’t hear the crunch of boots on snow until Red Hood grabs your waist and spins you around. Without his helmet, only a domino mask to protect his identity (pointless in the dark storm), he doesn’t wait before pressing his lips to yours, eager to try a new flavor and get more of you. After waiting so long and being tortured by his tragic decision to love two women at once, Jason deserves to show you how much he cares for you twice as often as he wishes. And if you start buying crazy lip balm flavors to mess with him, he’ll love you even more for it.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd
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“You made a list?” - Part 2 (Temperature Play)
Bucky x Y/N
Y/N made an interesting to-do list, Bucky wants to tick them all off..
Warnings: Smut. Temperature play. Fingering. Restraints. Oral f!receiving. Slight overstimulation.
The apartment was swimming in the soft glow of candlelight, the gentle flicker dancing across Bucky's serious face as he studied the list in his hand.
Y/N watched him from her spot on the couch, her heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement. The air was thick with the unspoken understanding that they were about to venture into new territory, a place where trust was the currency and boundaries were sacred. She had written the words "temperature play" in her rushed, excited handwriting.
He glanced up from the paper, catching her gaze, and for a moment she was lost in the depths of his wintery blue eyes.
The corner of his mouth twitched into the ghost of a smirk, hinting at the excitement he was trying to keep hidden behind his stoic exterior. He folded the list and set it aside before walking over to her, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room. Kneeling before her, he took her hands in his, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the cold steel of his cybernetic arm. His voice was a gentle rumble as he spoke, "Ready to turn up the heat, darling?"
Y/N nodded, her breath hitching slightly. She felt the warmth spread through her body as he leaned in to kiss her, the sensation heightened by the coolness of the metal against her skin. As their kiss deepened, she couldn't help but wonder what the evening had in store for them.
Bucky had always been attentive and caring, but there was something undeniably thrilling about the power exchange that came with these new kinks they were exploring together.
He stood, pulling her to her feet, and led her to the bedroom. On the bed, a tray waited with an assortment of items - ice cubes, and a set of handcuffs.
The sight of them sent a shiver down her spine, not from fear but from the delicious anticipation of what was to come. She knew she was safe with him, that he would never push her too far, but the thrill of the unknown was intoxicating.
Bucky secured the cuffs around her wrists. He was meticulous in his movements, ensuring she was both comfortable and secure. With a nod of satisfaction, he took an ice cube between his fingers and traced it along the line of her jaw, watching as goosebumps erupted along her neck. The sensation was electric, the freezing cold sending a jolt through her body that was both shocking and arousing.
He moved the cube down her throat, across her collarbone, and along the upper swell of her breast, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Breathe," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he placed the ice cube directly on her left nipple. The sudden cold was intense, making her gasp. He watched as her body reacted, the peak hardening beneath the icy touch, the surrounding skin turning a rosy pink. "So beautiful," he said, his voice filled with admiration. He took his time, allowing the cube to melt slowly, the water trickling down her side and onto the bed. The heat of his gaze was almost as potent as the chill from the ice, making Y/N's body a canvas of sensation.
When the cube was almost gone, he replaced it with his own warm mouth, the heat a stark contrast that had her squirming against the restraints. His tongue swirled around the sensitive flesh, teasing and nipping until she was panting.
"More?" he asked, his breath hot against her skin. "Yes," she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. He chuckled, the sound dark and seductive as he took her other nipple into his mouth, the warmth of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through her body.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he switched the melting ice cube to her right nipple, the sudden coolness making her arch off the bed. He suckled and licked, playing with the temperature as she whimpered and moaned beneath him. The sensation was overwhelming, a dance of heat and cold that had her nerves singing with every touch. He was in control, and she reveled in it, letting him dictate the pace of their exploration.
Trailing a new ice cube down her stomach, Bucky paused at her navel, swirling the ice around the sensitive indentation before sliding it lower. The cold path it left in its wake was soon replaced by the warmth of his fingers, tracing a line from her belly button to the top of her panties. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband, the fabric giving way to reveal her bare skin. The anticipation was palpable as he moved the ice cube to her lower abdomen, the chill spreading outwards, making her shiver.
He watched her intently as he slid the ice cube down further, the icy touch gliding over her mound and sending a shiver of pleasure through her core.
Y/N's hips jerked involuntarily, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, his gaze never leaving hers as he moved the cube in a slow, torturous dance along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He was careful not to let the ice touch her most delicate areas, instead focusing on the tantalizing proximity, the promise of what was to come.
"Please, Bucky," she begged, her voice needy. "I need more." He took her words as a challenge, his smirk growing as he leaned in to kiss her again, the coldness of his breath against her hot skin making her shiver. "Patience," he murmured against her lips, his own body thrumming with need.
He placed the ice cube back on the tray and picked up a fresh one, the condensation glistening in the candlelight. This time, he held it against her clit, watching as the shock of cold sent her hips bucking upwards. Her eyes rolled back, and a low moan escaped her throat. The contrast of the frigid ice against the heat of her arousal was exquisite. He could see the beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she tried to process the intensity of sensations.
Bucky waited for her to adjust before moving the ice cube in gentle circles, watching as she squirmed beneath the pressure. Her legs spread wider, giving him better access. He applied a bit more pressure, and she gasped, her body trembling. The sound was music to his ears, a symphony of pleasure and surrender that had his own desire raging.
He switched to a new ice cube, the coldness sending a fresh wave of sensation through her as he continued his slow, deliberate movements.
He noticed the way her body reacted to each caress, the way her muscles tensed and released. He was learning her reactions, memorizing the sounds she made and the way she moved under his touch. It was an intimate dance, one of give and take, and he was the conductor orchestrating her pleasure.
As the ice cube grew smaller, he could feel the heat of her sex against his palm, the warmth of her arousal fighting against the cold. He took the last bit of ice and flicked it against her clit, the sharp sensation making her body jerk.
The sudden numbness was a surprise, her nerves firing off in a frenzy before settling into a gentle hum. Her breaths grew shallower, and her eyes glazed over as she tried to adjust to the new sensation. It was as if her body had been coated in a layer of superficial cold, muffling the more intense sensations but amplifying the anticipation of his next touch.
Bucky took advantage of the moment, replacing the ice with the warmth of his thumb, rubbing slow circles that grew wider and wider until they encompassed her entire sex. The contrast was delicious, the heat of his skin penetrating the numbness and awakening her senses anew. She moaned his name, her voice a sweet symphony of need and desire.
He leaned down to kiss her again, his mouth hot against hers as he worked her body back to a fever pitch. His other hand trailed up her side, the metal of his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
Breaking away from the kiss, he hovered over her, his eyes dark with desire. "You okay, Kitten?" His voice was a seductive whisper, a promise of things to come. Y/N nodded, her breaths coming in short gasps.
He kissed his way down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he reached her breasts. His hand traveled back to the tray, his fingers wrapping around the base of the melting cube. He took a moment to appreciate her reaction, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath she took, the way her eyes fluttered closed as he touched her.
Bucky brought the ice cube to his own mouth, letting it melt against his tongue before pressing it against her sensitive bud once more. The sudden warmth was a stark contrast to the chill she'd grown accustomed to, sending a shiver of pleasure through her core. He watched her, his gaze intent, as he slid two fingers inside her, his movements slow and deliberate. The cold from the ice had made her wetter, making it easier for him to explore her depths.
His thumb remained on her clit, now warmed by her arousal, as he began to move his fingers in a rhythm that made her hips buck against his hand. He could feel her walls tighten around him, her body begging for release. The warmth of his digits coupled with the lingering cold of the ice created a symphony of sensations that had her panting and writhing in the restraints.
He watched her face contort with pleasure, the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed. It was a beautiful sight, one that filled him with pride and desire. With each stroke of his fingers, he applied a bit more pressure with the ice, watching as she struggled to process the intensity of it all.
The numbness grew, a sharp ache that bordered on pain. She whimpered, her body tightening around him, the coldness of the ice now a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. He could see the line between pleasure and pain blur in her eyes, and it was intoxicating. He knew she was close, could feel it in the way she clenched around his fingers, could hear it in the desperate sounds she was making.
He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, "You can take it, baby." His words were like a command, one that her body responded to instinctively. She bit down on their lip, her eyes squeezing shut as she focused on the sensation of his touch. He slammed his fingers into her, the ice cube now a forgotten tool of torment, his sole focus on bringing her to the brink and watching her fall.
Her moans grew louder, filling the quiet room. The sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh was the only music as he worked her closer and closer to orgasm. He felt her muscles tense around his digits, and he knew the moment was almost upon them. With a final, powerful thrust, he curled his fingers upward, hitting that spot deep within her that made her legs quiver and her eyes roll back into her head.
Her climax was explosive, a burst of color behind her eyelids. She screamed, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Her body jerked and spasmed against the restraints, pulling at them as if trying to escape the intensity of the sensations. Bucky held on, his own breathing ragged, watching as she rode the peak of her release.
As her cries began to soften into whimpers, he pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with her arousal. Without missing a beat, he bent his head down and lapped at her, tasting the sweetness that coated her skin. Her taste was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and satisfaction that made him want to devour her whole. He took his time, savoring each drop, his tongue dancing around her clit and dipping into her folds, exploring her as thoroughly as his fingers had moments before.
Her whimpers grew softer, more whiny, as his mouth stimulated her sensitive nerves.
She squirmed against the restraints, trying to nudge away, but also to feel more of his warmth. He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through her sensitive flesh, and took mercy, releasing her from the cuffs that held her wrists in place.
He helped her sit up, his hands strong and gentle on her waist as he supported her trembling body.
They sat there, panting, staring into each other's eyes. The intensity of the moment still hung in the air, a palpable force that neither of them wanted to break. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch soothing the fiery trail his earlier ministrations had left behind. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, leaving a path of gentle pecks that made her shiver.
Bucky then stood, grabbing a soft blanket from the bed, and wrapped it around her shivering body. She leaned into him, her eyes closed, relishing in the warmth and comfort he provided. He scooped her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her over to the bed. Gently, he laid her down, the plush mattress cushioning her as she sighed contentedly.
He climbed in beside her, pulling her close so that their bodies were pressed together, sharing warmth.
"Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice filled with genuine concern as he stroked her hair.
"Mmhmm," she managed to murmur, her voice still a bit shaky from the intensity of her climax. She nuzzled into his embrace, his chest hair tickling her face.
Bucky reached over and grabbed the bottle of water from the nightstand, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to her parched lips. She took a grateful sip, the cool liquid soothing her dry mouth. He held the bottle for her, his gaze never leaving hers, until she had her fill. He set it back down and traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, his touch feather-light and soothing.
"You were so good for me, Darling." he muttered, his voice a low rumble, as he trailed kisses along her collarbone, sending little shivers down her spine. She hummed, eager for more. He took that as permission to continue, his kisses moving downward to her chest, where he paused to pay homage to her hardened nipples, teasing them with his teeth and tongue. She moaned, her body responding to his touch despite the intense release she'd just experienced.
Bucky's hand found its way between her thighs again, his fingers tracing lazy circles around her still-sensitive clit. He watched as she arched her back, her body begging for more. He didn't disappoint, sliding one finger inside her, feeling the wetness that was still pooling there. He began to move it in and out, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment.
“S’okay, Doll, we’ve got the whole night..”
——————————————————————————————————
Hope you guys enjoyed it 🤭
Requests Open!
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A Song of Ice and Aneurysm | 02
Summary: Jin Kamurai might be feared and respected as the wintery King of Frostheim, but even he is no match for a cursed honor student denser than any iceberg known to mankind.
Pairing:Kamurai Jin x Reader
Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, fluff, Jin struggling to emote, eventual smut, COMPLETE
18+, minors DNI
~~~~~
"Bianerus."
You're so captivated by Jin's smile that it takes you a moment to register that he's summoned his stigma.
Shit.
The last and only time you had seen him use his ability, he had forced an entire horde of anomalies to their knees. His words of command had somehow bolstered Kaito's aim with his bow and arrow, saving you. Then, Jin had given Tohma enough power to bring down an entire building.
What is he going to do to you?
"Answer me truthfully."
Is he looking for blackmail material? Or perhaps he's going to have you spill your darkest secrets, your humiliation a punishment for pissing him off?
"Do you really not understand why I was upset with you?"
Before you can think, can come up with any sort of answer to appease him, your mouth opens as you are forced to obey.
"No," you respond, internally cringing at how breathy you sound. Though it's only to be expected when you've been subjected to the utter whiplash that has been this entire situation. Why you need to be in Jin's lap, why he has to be cupping your face like a lover as this strange conversation occurs is completely lost to you.
As your brain works overtime to process the overwhelming amounts of conflicting information it's receiving, something about his wording distracts you.
"W-was? Are you not upset with me now?"
Your own question makes his brows knit in annoyance, and he closes his eyes as if praying for patience.
"Oh no, you're still pissing me off," he answers bluntly. Yet despite his obvious irritation, his hold is still gentle, and your heart is pounding not out of fear but because his face is only inches from your own. "Are you always this fucking clueless?"
Apparently his command to answer truthfully is still in effect, because your response comes before you have even registered his insulting question.
"Yes."
What the fuck, brain? Your own psyche is betraying you, it seems.
Your answer at least seems to have eased some of the captain's ire, however, because he lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a "pfft".
"Are you pouting right now?"
How rude, of course you're not.
"Yes."
You hate his ability. You really do. You want to hate Jin too, but his amused expression is melting any leftover remnants of your self-respect.
It's unfair, really, just how beautiful he is. If he wasn't, maybe you could take his arrogance and rudeness at face value and forget the secret kindness he hides under his sheets of ice. The way he quietly does take care of his house and subordinates despite pretending otherwise. Maybe then, you would be properly worried that you are completely at his mercy. Instead, all you can think of is the warmth of his body against yours and the gentle way his hands have locked you into place.
"Continue answering truthfully."
You wonder why he's refreshed his order, what exactly he intends to ask you, because nothing about this meeting has gone the way you've expected.
For a moment, Jin hesitates. Then, his hand slides under your chin and your mind goes blank. Because his lips are suddenly brushing your temple in a gentle kiss that makes you freeze.
"Is that alright?"
Instantly, your own mouth opens to reply. "Yes."
You can't quite believe this is happening, that you're in Jin's lap and he's just kissed you like you're something delicate and perfect.
"And this?"
His next attack is to trail his lips against your jaw, and you can't hold back the tiny whimper that leaves your throat. You never would have expected this sweet, quiet treatment from the imperious captain and it's reducing your brain to mush and your insides to jelly.
"Mmhmm," you hum in assent, still dazed when he pulls back despite the fact that he hasn't even actually kissed your lips. There's a devastating, satisfied smirk on his face as he takes in your flushed expression.
"Is there anything else you want?"
Now that's just cruel, when it's clear he already knows the answer. Yet still, even without his stigma, you would tell the truth.
"You."
The smirk deepens.
"Take what you want, then."
Your body reacts faster than your mind, pressing closer against him as your lips finally meet his. You wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his soft, messy hair.
In any other circumstance you might have been more shy, less certain of your actions. However, Jin's order strips away any inhibitions you might have had, and when his lips part you take the invitation to lick into his mouth a little more desperately than you meant to.
It's his fault, really, for giving free reign to the desire that's been itching under your skin since he fucking kabedon'ed you with his leg. Who the fuck would even think of doing that other than this foul-mouthed, grouchy, beautiful idiot of a man?
It's his fault for meeting your tongue with his own so quickly, just as needy as you. For the way his husky groan goes straight between your legs, reminding you that your uniform skirt provides no shield against the bulge forming in his slacks.
Take what you want? You want him. All of him.
"Anything?" you ask, pulling back just enough to gaze into Jin's icy eyes. His cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, and you can't resist rolling your hips against him. His hands come down to your hips to press you harder against his erection and you let out a little whine at the delicious friction.
"Whatever you want, princess."
Your heart flutters at the pet name, so sweet falling from his lips (and a welcome change from peasant). The way he squeezes your ass is decidedly less sweet, but the assurance that he wants you just as much as you want him sends heat throughout your entire body.
Jin's words are all the encouragement you need to kiss him again, and you shove the jacket off his broad shoulders in the process so you can run your hands down his chest.
The planes of his abs are evident even over his button-up, which is frankly not fair. Where does he find the time to maintain his body between his busy schedule of yelling at Tohma and ordering you around? Is it a ghoul physiology thing?
Whatever, that's not important when there is a veritable feast of beautiful man meat before you. Jin isn't the type to give free rein for long, and you waste no more time in unbuttoning his shirt as he chuckles into your mouth.
"You were so shy that time I told you to wash this," he remarks, shrugging his shoulders out of the shirt as you let your eyes rove over his bare skin. You pause your appreciation to frown at him.
"That's because you're incredibly confusing," you complain, horniness momentarily forgotten as you lean back to cross your arms. "I didn't think I was allowed to look."
"Oh?"
There's a dangerous undercurrent in Jin's voice, and suddenly your vision spins and you're on your back, staring wide-eyed at the shirtless man above you.
"And now?"
His hand slips under your shirt, and you shiver as his fingers skate over the soft skin of your belly.
"I'm still a little con-fused!" Your reply ends in a squeak when he cups your breast over your bra and pinches your nipple through the fabric.
Jin sighs, then leans in to you so his face is a hair's breadth from your own. His eyes pierce yours, locking you into place.
"I ask you to come see me every day."
Before you can say that "ask" is a very generous term for his demanding texts, he kisses you hard. When you moan he nips at your lower lip as if to punish you for your thought.
"I dance with you and only you at the ball I provided your dress for."
Your neck is next, and you whimper uncontrollably as he kisses you, bites you, sucks bruises into your delicate skin. He's good at this, adept at finding exactly where you're the most sensitive and abusing it until you're trembling beneath him.
"I give you a fucking boat for your mission."
He pinches your nipple again, hard, and you yelp despite the zing of electricity it sends straight between your legs.
"You really thought I felt nothing for you?"
You're hot all over, not just from his actions but at the way he's staring at you now, like he's ready to eat you alive. There's warmth in your chest as well, that this isn't just some physical way for him to vent his frustration – that you mean something to him.
"Show me, then," you order breathlessly, tangling your fingers in his hair to crash his lips back onto yours.
It's as if his (sort of) confession has broken down any remaining barriers between you, and the kiss quickly grows hot and messy. There's more passion than finesse and you love it, moaning into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his hips to grind against him.
Your hands roam the hard, warm planes of his bare back and he groans into your mouth when you scratch lightly with your nails. He's so broad, and you begin fumbling at the buttons of your shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.
Apparently Jin is just as impatient, because without removing his lips from yours, he grabs the sides of your shirt from your hand and rips it open, uncaring of the buttons as they go flying.
"Jin, that's one of my only shirts," you hiss, torn between irritation and arousal because holy shit that was fucking hot.
"I'll buy you a hundred more," he replies with a smirk, letting his eyes feast on your nearly bare torso. "Or not, you look better like this."
You feel yourself flush at the shameless way he's staring, and to mask your embarrassment you rip your shirt off the rest of the way. Your bra follows, and you feel a small thrill of confidence when Jin lets out a ragged breath.
"So beautiful, princess," he groans, sinking back down on you to reclaim your lips. His hands cup your breasts, and you arch into his touch when his thumbs brush your nipples. "I'm never letting you go after this."
You pant and moan into his mouth as he begins to pinch, rub, and knead, every one of his actions sending hot jolts of pleasure to your core.
In an attempt to give him some of the pleasure (and torture) you're receiving, you reach down to palm him over this trousers and damn, not only does he have a big ego and big sword, but apparently a big sword as well. He groans and bucks into your hand, but you're already fumbling with his belt.
Soon the buckle clinks open and you barely wait to undo the button of his pants before slipping your hand to find the hard length of him. To your shock he's not wearing any boxers, and when you wrap your fingers around him Jin gives another strangled moan.
"Fuck, princess," he growls into your lips, voice husky with desire. One of his large hands trails down your body to dip below the hem of your skirt, just barely brushing the edge of your panties, when a thought strikes you.
"Wait."
Jin freezes, withdrawing his hand immediately and looking at you in concern.
"What's wrong?"
"Were you freeballing when you leg kabedon'ed me?"
The worry immediately melts into relief, which then becomes disbelief. For a few long moments he just stares at you, expression growing more and more irritated.
"That's what you're worried about right now?" he asks in a low, incredulous growl. "I thought you were telling me to stop."
The idea that he essentially shoved his balls in your face the first time you met had been so startling that you had forgotten everything else. Including the fact that your hand is currently still on his dick and you yourself are half-naked beneath him. Oops.
"No, definitely don't stop," you assure him. You want to feel bad for worrying him, you really do, but he looks so sexy with his jaw clenched in annoyance that you're immediately reminded of the ache between your legs. He looks like he's about to complain again, and you decide now is not the time to inquire about his underwear habits.
"Jin," you murmur softly, giving his cock a squeeze that you hope distracts him from his ire. His sharp exhale tells you you're successful, and with your free hand you guide his own back towards your core.
You stroke him slowly, tentatively and he lets out a strained "fuck" before caressing your pussy over your underwear. When he realizes how wet you are, he curses again before shoving the fabric aside. You whimper as he slowly, torturously, drags his fingers up and down your wet slit, bucking into his hand in a wordless plea for more.
Jin obliges, and you're glad the room is soundproof because the noise you make when he presses one of his thick fingers into you is depraved and needy.
Then his finger curls, and the cry you let out makes all of your earlier moans seem like church prayers.
"There?" he asks smugly, leaning back so he can get a good view of your face as drags the pad of his finger against that spot again. You think you babble an assent as he sets a delicious, relentless rhythm and you try to do the same, stroking him in a manner that only gets more uncoordinated as he drives you closer and closer to your peak.
"Jin," you pant desperately, grinding your hips into the curl of his fingers. He must have added another at some point, because the stretch feels so good that all you can see are the stars Jin has hung before you. "I'm – I'm gonna –"
"That's it, princess," he gasps, thrusting into your hand because you've long since ceased being able to focus on anything other than the relentless pleasure Jin is driving into you. "Come for me."
He doesn't even use his stigma, and yet you're powerless to resist. You fall apart with a wordless cry, spurred by his clever fingers, face contorting in pleasure that radiates from your core all the way to your toes. He stills his movements but presses his palm hard against your clit just when your spasms subside and you choke at the fresh, muted wave of pleasure.
You're still coming back to your senses when he withdraws his fingers and kisses you softly, stroking your hair with his free hand.
"Such a good girl," he murmurs into your neck, nipping and sucking at your tender skin. Honey oozes through your chest at his praise and gentle touch, the side of Jin that no one gets to see but you. You tug lightly at his hair to encourage him to kiss you again, and this time the slide of your tongues is more relaxed, easing you back into the waking world.
Jin is still hard in your grip, and when you resume your ministrations, his movements falter. You rub your palm around his tip and his moan vibrates against your tongue, and you feel yourself getting wet again.
"Jin, I need you," you murmur into his lips, withdrawing your hand from his pants only to shove them down and off his ass. Which you also take the opportunity to squeeze.
He sits up to kick them the rest of the way off and you do the same, yanking your skirt and panties down and tossing them wherever so you can admire the Adonis before you.
Every inch Jin's body looks like it was carved from marble by ancient Greek sculptors, each muscle taut and perfect. Well, except the several inches that constitute his cock, which is much larger than what was fashionable at the time. And you're not really sure how many sculptures there were with erect dicks.
"You're drooling."
With a start you wipe at your mouth, then scowl at the ghoul in indignation.
"Hey! No I wasn't!"
Jin snorts and takes your hand to pull you closer, and you very quickly forget everything when he kisses your palm, then the underside of your wrist. You shudder as the light touches send butterflies fluttering through your chest. Were those areas always so sensitive, or is it just because it's Jin?
"So cute, even when you're being a fucking idiot," he murmurs, eyes glittering with amusement as you huff and roll to face away from him. So rude. Even if hearing him call you cute turns your insides into goo.
Jin chuckles and presses his body to your back, and for a man everyone says is cold, all you can feel from his skin is heat. His hand skims over your breast before trailing down your stomach and you melt into him in spite of yourself.
"So you want it from behind?"
He says it just as his hand dips between your thighs, breath hot against your ear, and you forget to reply when he just barely presses his finger past your folds. You moan quietly, grinding your backside against his cock and Jin groans just as softly when he feels you still wet for him.
Suddenly his warmth vanishes, but before you can wonder what he's doing, he's pushing you onto your back and forcing your legs apart with his knees.
"Maybe next time," he muses, stroking your exposed pussy as you stare up at him with swollen lips and messy hair. "I want to see your face the first time you come on my cock."
Your face floods with heat at his filthy words, and his predatory gaze makes you feel more like prey than a princess. It only turns you on further, and when he gives his length a few cursory pumps before lining himself up, you swear your mouth actually does water.
Jin pauses, the blunt head of his cock just barely kissing your entrance.
"Tell me you want this," he rasps. His pupils are dilated, eyes heavy with desire and he looks like he'd love nothing more than to devour you whole. Yet he still waits, and it makes you want him even more.
You take his free hand, threading your fingers together, and pull him down so his forehead bumps yours.
"Please, Jin," you whisper, heart pounding. "I want this. I want you."
Jin kisses you just as his length presses against you, swallowing the needy whimper that escapes your throat. Instead of pushing in, he drags his cock up and down your slit, rubbing your clit with each stroke and you buck your hips towards him, wanting more.
"Jin," you gasp against his lips and tongue, hot and needy and achingly empty. "Can you please just – ahh!"
You moan as he finally presses into you, eyes rolling back as Jin's thick length cleaves into your walls. The stretch is agonizingly delicious, and he's so big that despite your wetness he has to go slow, pulling out shallowly just so he can fuck you deeper with each roll of his hips. By the time he's fully sheathed in your cunt, you're gasping and digging your nails into his back.
"You're doing so good for me, Princess," Jin breathes in a strained voice, pressing kisses to your neck as you whimper and wiggle beneath him.
"More," you whine, wrapping your legs around his hips as you try to take him deeper, desperate to take everything he has to offer.
"Fuck," he curses, grinding into you so hard you swear you can feel him in your throat. You pulse around him, slick walls gripping his cock like a vice and he curses again, grabbing your hips so he can properly fuck into you the way you both want.
Each thrust makes you see stars, and the room echoes with the indecent sound of skin slapping skin, Jin's harsh, uneven breathing, and your moans as you beg him for more.
Jin feels incredible, his cock hitting spots you weren't even aware of, and when he reaches between your bodies to massage your clit you can't help but buck wildly against him.
"Nng, fuck," you choke, because it's almost too much and somehow still not enough. With each thrust of his hips, each circle of his thumb on your clit, you lose more and more of your grip on reality and you yank his face to yours in a desperate clash of teeth and tongue.
"Don't stop," you gasp into his mouth as he fucks you into what feels like another plane of existence. You barely feel like a human anymore, but rather a bundle of nerves and pleasure growing tighter, tighter, until –
"Jin!" you wail, back arching as the tension snaps into rapture and you explode into a million pieces.
"Shit," Jin grunts, pace faltering as he feels you spasm uncontrollably around his cock. He buries his face into the side of your neck and you wrap your arms and legs around him, still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Where–"
"Inside," you beg, tightening your legs around him as his thrusts grow harder and more erratic. Jin's answering groan is feral, animalistic, and when he spills inside of you he bites your shoulder hard enough to make you cry out.
"Fuck," he pants quietly, running his tongue over the bite in a silent apology before propping himself up on an arm to gaze down at you. You smile as you brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, looking into beautiful icy eyes that thaw only for you.
"You're beautiful," Jin murmurs softly, leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then your lips. You're melting again, reduced to an embarrassing puddle of adoration at his gentle treatment.
"You too," you reply dreamily, in a haze of post-coital contentment as you snuggle into Jin's chest. You feel his chuckle vibrate against your skin and he wraps his free arm around you, holding you close. "Wait, so why were you upset?"
"Oh my fucking god."
#jin kamurai#kamurai jin#kamurai jin x reader#reader x kamurai jin#tokyo debunker fanfiction#tokyo debunker fanfic#tdbk fanfic#tdb fanfic#kamurai jin smut#tokyo debunker smut#jin kamurai smut
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AS PROMISED - we start with the Wintery comic! Winter Wondering II - Part 1/8
AND IF YOU GOT LOST:
Winter Wonderland comic recap: in 2017 I published a first little winter comic (where they buldoze each other into the snow), then, in 2019, I made a continuation of it, where Lance is slightly hypothermic in a cafe as a consequence, and finally in 2020/2021 - I've connected these two with another one, where they go on a wintery trek to watch a sunset - and made a PDF out of it, called Winter Wonderland which you can find on PayHip right here. **2017&2019 are still available on my social media and I want to publish the 2020-2021 part after this, because it will explain why Winter Wondering even came to life**
Last year, in 2022, I've added sort of a prequel to the "wintery trek" part of the Winter Wonderland - where Keith is sick - this one is published in full color on all my social media as well as available as PDF here, as "Winter Wondering".
This year, in 2023 - I'm posting a second part to the Winter Wondering, continuation of the sick Keith story. It squeezes in right before the last page of WWiondering, where Lance and Hunk stand watching Keith fly off in the distance.
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"s'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt" "you jsut can't cook" + eddie munson for blurbcember ❄️
ty for requesting! :D — you freeze your ass off to spend some time alone with eddie; he learns you love him more than s'mores (established relationships, fluff, 1.6k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
You and Eddie sit stranded in Steve’s backyard, the only ones brave enough to weather the late-night cold.
The bursting bonfire died down to a couple of sparkling orange embers, and the party followed accordingly. While your friends sought shelter in the warm living room, unfreezing their fingers around cups of hot cocoa, you and Eddie remained outside in the navy blue winter — too stubborn to tread behind them.
“But wait— we haven’t made s’mores yet!” you’d whined. The shivering bodies of your friends rushed by you and into the heated house, anyway. Eddie was the only one to stay with you after the fact. ‘Cause his girl was gonna get her s’mores even if it was the last thing he ever did.
He makes the first one perfectly. Mostly because that one was for you.
You sit patiently in the slanted wooden chair, knees up to your chest, drowning in the thick leather jacket Eddie gave you for warmth. It smells just like him — like pine and childhood. It keeps you as warm as the smoky marshmallow on your tongue.
The melted sugar gets caught in your teeth, along with the chewed-up graham cracker and gooey milk chocolate. You smile with it all anyway when Eddie’s second batch doesn’t turn out nearly as good as his first.
“Eds, that’s burnt!” you laugh with your mouth still full as he smacks a blackened marshmallow between two square cookies.
In several layers of dark flannel, the boy shrugs lazily. He plops onto the adirondack beside yours and shoots you a lopsided smile, tinted pink and softly chapped. His skin, made more pale by the dark and wintery night, rivals that of the shining full moon. It makes his flushed cheeks that much more rosy.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about— s’mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt.”
He takes a too big bite to make a point. You grimace at the crunch of the over-cooked confection, then smile when the melted sugar sticks to Eddie’s chin. “No, you just can’t cook,” you retort with a lovesick grin.
“But I’m right!” he insists, black crumbs sticking to the corners of his mouth.
He’s too hardheaded, and you’re too in love with him to argue about it any further. You just smile and shake your head, so full of adoration you’re sparkling with it. “You’re so cute,” you murmur, features warm and visibly fond.
He grins wide, never minding the food caught in his teeth. “I know.”
“Should we make everyone else one?” you wonder, nose scrunched as you spare a look over your shoulder.
Through the sliding glass door, you can see into the golden-lit living room. Everyone’s lazing under blankets, crammed onto couches or lounging on the floor. You can’t tell if they’re sleeping or not. You feel the need to take care of them anyway.
Eddie scoffs with his mouth still full. “Hell no! Those cowards chickened out on us,” he answers bitterly, then in a deeper and posher accent, continues. “Only the bravest of warriors can be rewarded with such fine delicacies.”
“Getting hypothermia makes us ‘the bravest of warriors’?”
“You’re the one who wanted to stay out here!”
“I did,” you argue with a laugh. “But not for the stupid s’mores.”
He gets cartoonishly confused. His bushy brows furrow and his winter-kissed features swirl together. If you weren’t weathering the winter for his obviously unmatched cheffing skills, then what exactly were you out here for?
“Then… for what?” he wonders slowly and with his dark eyes squinted.
You roll your eyes at your oblivious boy. A smile hints at the corners of your mouth. “Eddie…” you murmur, hoping your sudden sheepishness might give him some sort of hint. Telling him, ‘I’m out here in the freezing cold because being next to you makes me feel warm’ is far too sweet and not at all on brand for either of you.
“What?” he says with a faint laugh, still visibly clueless.
“I stayed out here because of you, you idiot,” you confess, giggling softly when it makes his doe eyes get all squishy around the edges.
“Oh,” he hums, then grins all wide and giddy. “Sweet.”
It’s too easy to forget how much you like him sometimes. Mostly because he doesn’t feel very deserving of you at all. He just takes all the sweet moments alone with you that he can get, then tries not to explode every time you remind him that you love him back.
“I am starting to get cold, though,” you murmur, jaw tense to keep your teeth from chattering.
A crisp breeze rolls by and shoves its teeth into every inch of exposed skin it can bite. Your cheeks and lips have long gone numb with it. You can only wrap Eddie’s jacket around you so much before it stops helping.
“Well, I know something that’ll warm us up…” the boy beside you croons with an audible smirk.
Your face scrunches at the implication. “Eddie…” you grouse.
“Get your head out of the gutter— I’m talking about booze.”
You squint at him. He reaches between his many layers and pulls out something from the inner pocket. It glimmers beneath the moonlight for a moment until you realize what it is — a glass, small and polygonal, half-filled with amber liquid.
“I picked the lock to Steve’s dad’s liquor cabinet,” he confesses, twinkling with boyish excitement. “This looked the fanciest, so…”
At a loss for words, you shake your head. “You’re insane,” you tell him, even though your smile says that you’re in love with him and all his crazy.
“I’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out,” he quips and unscrews the glass cap. He sniffs the liquid inside, then takes a sip without fear. He winces at the taste.
“Is it good?” you ask, hiding your laugh behind your palm.
“It’s great—” His answer comes wedged between coughs.
When he passes the small glass off to you, you take your own baby sip of the alcohol, with much more hesitation than the boy beside you. The bitter taste coats your tongue and stings going down. The burn makes you cough. Your chest blooms with warmth.
Eddie’s brows raise expectantly. His lip quirks at the edges. “Good?”
“It tastes like rubbing alcohol,” you grimace and hand the thing back to him.
“That’s how you know it’s good!” he insists. He takes another sip and doesn’t flinch this time around. “Like— this is the shit rich people spend hundreds of dollars on just to pretend it tastes good.”
“Being rich must suck,” you observe with your face screwed up.
“Oh, totally,” the boy scoffs. He goes to take a swig, then sends you a worried glance with the glass up to his lips. “Are you warm yet, at least?”
“Not really… My throat just kinda burns.”
“C’mere. Before you end up like that psycho from The Shining.”
Eddie slouches softly in his seat and holds his arms out beside him. The invitation is a hard one to turn down. Hair wild, cheeks rosy, and dressed all snug — he looks so visibly warm. You want to curl into his chest like a cat and stay there forever.
“You want me to sit in your lap?” you wonder with your brows pinched.
He nods.
“Eddie. I’ll crush you.”
His features swirl with hurt. “I’m offended that you’re doubting my strength right now, sweetheart.”
“Shut up.”
“Get over here before I cause a scene.”
There’s not much of a scene to cause. Both of you know this. You rise on rigid, frozen limbs anyway and walk the short distance to him.
His palms are oddly warm as they curl around your hips. You sit hesitantly on his lap at first, as tense as a rock, until he pulls you down completely. His arms settle around your waist like they were always meant to be there, hands fitting with you like a puzzle piece. It doesn’t take long for you to melt against him.
Eddie grins at the comforting weight of you. “See? This isn’t so bad, right?”
You try to bite back the beam tugging at your lips. This kind of love makes you feel like a teenager again — heart singing like it’s never been stung before.
“I mean, yeah, but Steve and Robin are watching us through the blinds,” you tell him as a laugh sputters from your lips.
You can tell they’re trying to be discreet, but their eyes showing through the slats — at two varying heights — are a dead giveaway. It took the two of them ages to get you and Eddie together, so you’re not entirely surprised by their snooping. They’re nothing if not your biggest cheerleaders. Even if it does make them a couple of creeps sometimes.
Eddie doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder at them. He just tilts his chin up at you and smiles with all his teeth. “Wanna give ‘em a show?”
You smile. Then press your tingling lips to the cold skin of his rosy cheek.
You know that isn’t exactly what he was asking for, so his plea for another doesn’t surprise you.
“One more?” he wonders quietly, chocolate eyes glimmering with boyish hope.
Happily, you lean in for another peck to his cheek. He turns his head at the very last second and smacks a proper kiss to your mouth.
You pull back, face agape with shock, like he’s never kissed you before. “Eddie!” you gasp.
His doe eyes sparkle with feigned innocence. “What?”
“You’re incorrigible,” you insist and settle further into him.
His contented sigh brushes your temple when you rest your head against him. His ringed fingers give your sides a squeeze. “That’s a real big word, sweetheart. Means you like me, right?”
You let yourself smile wide. He can’t see how lovesick you are from this angle, or else he’d know that you do a whole lot more than just like him. “Yeah, Eds. That’s exactly what it means.”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: blurbcember
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