Y/n: I’m dating Klaus.
Katherine: I always knew your standards were low, but not that low.
I made this a few months back but I neglected to post it here. 💀 With Halloween around the corner now’s as good a time as any.
read the rest here // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4
warnings: uh none? castlevania au (yes the titles are episodes from castlevania) historically inaccurate shit cause castlevania. do sinks exist? mentions of blood/death, talking bout demons ig, ALSO decided this is gonna be a inuyasha style slowburn.
word count: 1,9 k
time skips/jumps are within the // and perspectives also change in between these //
I long to hold a warm heart, one that only brings me joy and passion. One that craves more than just a simple kiss. Those hearts are only once in a century.
And I struggle for the longing of one's heart of my own. As the hedonistic pleasure that it brings me is the same amount of satisfaction as I gain from breaking one.
And breaking them is much too easy.
Michael searched throughout the village. Tearing through the doors of each and every house and hut to find her. Each home he only found more frozen bodies. Families huddled together for warmth before they passed. Lovers together forever as they were frozen in an cold embrace.
The homes that were broken into, doors ripped open. Those were not so lucky. Their limbs broken apart like glass. Dark red splattering the floors and walls as the creatures tore them apart. What were once comforting homes of shade and shelter, were now glassed over with ice and frost, the coldness seeping into Michael’s skin.
Michael’s heart sank somehow. Whether it was the families he saw destroyed or the prospects of never seeing Y/n again, he wasn’t sure. He shook his head and quickly moved to the next home, ripping open the door to find another family that had succumbed to the freezing temperatures.
Finally he reached the final house. A medium sized home with cracked lanterns around the entrance. Breaking through the door, his keen eyes scanned the area, finding the home to be destroyed. Strangely, the door was shut. It was peculiar, how the home seemed destroyed from the inside despite there being no forced entry.
He stepped in further, the smallest bit of apprehension still in his body forcing him to stay inside and investigate. Finding what appeared to be rubbish and layers of scraps and fabrics covering a portion of the room. Michael took in a deep breath, stilling himself in place as he focused on his hearing.
The soft beating of a heart.
No, more than one.
In quick seconds, he tore at the fabrics. Ripping through them and throwing them every which way. Tearing through the rubbish until he finally found it. A small shelter built around the fire pit.
The soft sound of breath was more apparent the more he removed the rest. Finding the underside of a wooden table that covered the fire pit. Lifting the heavy dark wood, he finally found her. Her limp body tucked against the layers of blankets and fabrics that covered the logs from the fire pit. In her arms a little boy that was barely breathing.
Kneeling down, he felt her skin. The soft warmth that escaped her lips with each of her slow breaths. The quiet thumping of her heart.
Michael sighed a long breath, one that had been stuck in his chest and gently picked her up from the darkened fabrics. The various ivory and tan sheets were covered in shades of soot and ash as they dropped from her form.
He carried her towards the door and into the fresh air. Hopefully to fill her lungs and do anything to wake her. The little boy that was tucked in her arms began to stir. His little tuft of light brown hair peeking from the cap that still protected his head.
In an almost shocked state, the little boy merely tugged on y/n, trying to wake her as he realized she had saved him.
“Wake up. Wake up!” He cried out for her, his little hands grabbing at her every which way.
“She won’t wake, she needs more air and heat. Her body is still so cold,” Michael said plainly. With an exasperated sigh he stared at the boy, his eyes scanning the child for any injuries.
“Are you hurt? Anything broken?” He asked with a grimace.
“N-no, I don’t think so. She- she pulled me into the fire pit- when the fire went out and the ice came in…” The little boy’s expression grew more frantic as he struggled to check on his parents. The sides of his lips downturned with each tremble of his lip as he saw the carnage around him. The remains of what was left of his home.
Michael grabbed at his dark cape, tearing it from his shoulders as he wrapped her in the soft fabric, taking time to ensure she was fully covered. His hand gently caressed her skin against her cheek as he tucked her hair into the hood he created while wrapping her up.
Michael already knew what the scene would be. He’d already seen enough. The little boy knew, and yet Michael was sure that without some reassurance, he’d wonder forever. As Michael slowly walked towards the hallway to the bedrooms, the little boy stood up, needing to see. To know.
“No, I’ll check on them, stay with her.” Michael demanded of the boy.
With a few more steps, he reached the doorway to the bedroom. The wood was splintered and frayed. With a gentle push, he opened it to find the boy’s parents. Frozen to death. Together in an embrace. Locked together as they shared their final breaths. The final times their hearts would beat together.
Grimacing, Michael turned to close the door and return. Shaking his head at the little boy who lowered his head to cry. His shoulders slowly heaving with each sharp intake of air he’d take in. His cries becoming more apparent with each passing second.
Michael simply stood still. Watching as the little boy cried. His little hands pounding at the ground of his home. Y/n still barely breathing as she laid wrapped up.
If only Michael came sooner.
Y/n slowly fluttered her eyes open as she came to. Her throat scratchy and dry. Her body still stiff and almost stuck. Her vision finally cleared as she took in her surroundings.
“You’re awake,” a familiar voice called out to her.
“Michael?” she stuttered as she looked over at him. Sat in a chair across from the bed as she struggled to push herself up from the bedding.
“How are- you feeling?” He asked as he stood up and reached the side of the bed. His eyes scanning over her as he took in her state. Her breathing, stronger. Her eyes now clearer. And finally, her heart finally beating its strong rhythm. His hand reached out to gently push her hair to the side, his hand grazing along her cheek as he did so.
“-How… what happened?”
“I should’ve never let you leave my castle.” Michael said with an exasperated sigh.
Y/n’s eyebrows knitted together, “…Pardon?”
Michael’s eye twitched, his expression changing as quickly as the sudden jump in his heart rate.
“Had I known you were headed in the direction of those frost demons, I would’ve never allowed you to walk into danger like that! It was idiotic!” He stood up quickly and crossed his arms. His long blond hair flowing against his back with his swift movements.
“You nearly froze to death! Luckily for you, your idea of hiding in the fire pit aided you in your survival. However you figured out how to-“
“The boy!” She suddenly realized. Her expression changing from fairly confused and neutral to frantic and panicked.
“The little boy I was with! He was-“ She breathed all of it out in a few seconds. Crystal clear tears welled in her eyes as she weakly tried to pull at her blankets that tucked her into the bed.
“The boy is resting. I have him in another part of my castle. He’s safe.” Michael reassured her, his stance changing back to more comforting and relaxed. With a solemn look to his eyes his gaze fell towards the flooring, not able to meet her eyes.
“I apologize. Due to my actions, I was too late in saving anyone else in that village you were staying in. The boy is safe. However, the rest of his family…” He paused, the silence growing too comforting for him to continue his words.
Y/n’s shoulders lowered in the bed, her chest expanding with a large intake of breath. Her sigh long and pained. This wasn’t the first time she’s dealt with death and loss. It had seemed she had seen this pain before. Felt it. Experienced each agonizing breath as one slowly comes to terms with the disappearance of a loved one forever.
Knowing that you’d never be able to hold them again. Never see them laugh or smile again. Never be able to be touched by the life of them again. Never feel their love again.
Y/n finally broke the silence, “… I never knew their names. His parents… They provided me shelter so quickly, I never tried to remember them or their names. It’s just easier this way whenever I have to leave them.” Y/n confessed to Michael. Somehow feeling the need to justify her lack of relationship with the boy’s parents.
Somehow Michael’s heart shattered. Another crack forming. Y/n only saw Michael as a means to an end. Her departure from his castle was no more than another one of her means of survival. Staying too long in one place was never good for those who knew they didn’t belong there. And she didn’t belong here. In Michael’s castle.
Instead of asking for himself, he nodded.
Michael stood from the bed. His back turned to her quickly as he took another breath.
“When you are fully rested, you may leave this castle again. The boy as well.”
Michael took a few more long steps until he reached the doorway, his back still turned to her. Without another word, he simply opened the door and slipped through the crack. The heavy door closing with a simple sound of wood, and the echo of his steps down the hall as he walked away from her.
Michael was always so hard to read. What was she thinking, she still barely knew the man. And yet. Somehow he knew where she was. That she was in danger, and that she needed help.
No. Y/n shook her head. She was safe. She had survived the frost demons. Along with the little boy she saved. Surely, she would’ve been fine if Michael had never appeared. What chance it would’ve been that she would’ve woke and saved the boy herself. And yet, somehow knowing that he had brought her back to his castle made her feel guilty, like a burden. Something treasured that needed to be saved.
She never meant to be a damsel in distress. One that needed to be saved.
In only a few moments, her fatigue finally caught back up to her. Her eyes falling down to her attire. Her outfit seemed to have changed since she was in the village. Her robes now a creamy silk. Layered with different wools and fibres she had never seen or felt before. She felt warm, enveloped in a comforting embrace of Michael’s clothing. She’d never be able to repay him for what he did. Or what he didn’t do. She wasn’t sure how to feel; and the comforting dim light of the room only brought on the idea of falling back to sleep.
Her heavy lids fluttering a few more times before she laid her head back onto the pillow and fell back asleep. Lost in a confusing slumber of where she were to go next. And what she were to do next.
yES THEY GONNA IGNORE THEIR FEELINGS LIKE THE SUSSY LITTLE BAKAS THAT THEY ARE
i love you baaabies tag list
( if you would like to be added/removed, just let me know :3 )
@welcometothelioncage @elena-75s-blog ,@chicaluna2410 @fckinsupreme , @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern , @psychobitchtess ,@frenchlangdon, @blakescoven , @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc , @melodylangdon @brattylovee, @lady-jane-revisited @bitchchatter @wroteclassicaly , @sojournmichael @bloodcoatedeclipse, @angelicmichael @7-wonders @codycrazy @kitty4860 @blackwiddows @langdxn @peachesandfern @femaleantichrist @this-isnt-madness @tharros-auris-black-asimi @ferndolan @codyfernno
tags that i seem to not be able to get to work @wormycircumstances @mintytea1 @depressedvamp
michael only tag @rainbowxmisa
Blood (marrow), violence, swearing
Lotus stumbled backward, turning to run away only to be wrenched back again. He cried out as he was yanked into the air by his right arm and dangled before the female rogue, struggling to break free as she sniffed at him, "A mortal? Did 'e bring a pet or somethin'?"
"Piss off!" Rurik shouted, struggling from where he was pinned against a tree; only his knife separated his throat from the weapon of the newcomer, a larger male human-like vampire.
"Probably a servant or something; the stuffy ones do that sometimes," the male rogue reasoned casually, glancing at Rurik as if for confirmation; they only received a glare in return.
The woman grinned deviously, " 'e looks cute... can I play with 'im before I eat 'im?"
"Go for it."
"No!" Lotus screamed, flailing wildly and launching his foot into the vampiress's face, taking her by surprise and somehow freeing himself in the confusion.
"RUN!" Rurik bellowed as he renewed his efforts to fight the larger vampire off. Lotus scrambled to his feet and took off running, his eye light darting around for any potential escape route.
A force slammed into his back not even ten feet from his initial starting point, driving him harshly into the ground with a pained grunt. He choked on air from the impact as the rogue snarled above him, "Ya think yer clever? I was plannin' on bein' gentle since yer a small fry, but the gloves're off now!"
Before he could even get a breath, the rogue chomped down on his left shoulder blade, splintering his bones with the force of the bite. Lotus let out a strangled cry, desperately struggling under the woman's weight to get away; he could hear shouting in the background while his injury throbbed angrily for attention, but his focus was solely on escaping and the invisible time limit he had before he was rendered immobile from the bite.
The vampire on top of him didn't seem to mind his struggle in the slightest, gorging themselves on the wound they created. Lotus wanted to cry as he began to rapidly lose feeling in his limbs, shivering in fear of being completely helpless to his assailant's whims. He whined, feebly trying to claw at the dirt and grass under his fingers, but his body was no longer responding. A wave of dizziness overtook him and his sockets grew heavy, alerting him that his body was already reaching the limits of what it could handle. The weight above him suddenly shifted as hands began to tug at his clothing; he clenched his sockets shut as they began to water.
This was it... this was how he would die; Rurik was busy dealing with the other vampire while he was paralyzed and fighting to stay conscious. After everything he went through to create a life he could actually take pride in, it would all be snuffed out like it was nothing in the most degrading way possible. With unbridled terror and dismay coursing through his soul, Lotus whimpered softly, "Rurik... help..."
A strangled cry pierced the air and a gust of wind rushed around him as the weight on his back abruptly lifted. Cracking open his teary sockets, Lotus could barely make out the blurred outline of a figure aggressive stabbing downward over and over as their victim screeched and writhed below them.
Once the screams fell silent, the attacker stood up and rushed over to the prone skeleton. Lotus felt himself being shifted around and raised up until he was face-to-face with Rurik, his lower skull resting against their left arm. The vampire's face and clothing were splattered with blood; his expression warred between anger and urgency as he demanded, "Lotus? Talk to me, Lotus; you still with me?"
"Hnn...," the monster groaned, his vision swimming, "Sh-shoulder..."
No sooner was the word out of his mouth that Lotus felt himself being shifted against the taller's chest as his clothes were pulled away from his left side. Rurik made a hissing noise beside his skull before leaning toward the injury; he shivered into his master's shoulder, feeling the vampire lightly run their tongue across the damaged bones in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
The sensations eventually ceased, but Rurik sounded far from pleased, "That bitch really did a number on you; it's still not clotting all the way." Reaching over, he took up an end of the red scarf laying on the ground and tore a strip off before wrapping it tightly around the injured area. Lotus winced as the ends were tied off, noting that feeling was finally starting to come back to his extremities.
Rurik shifted the injured monster once more, cupping his left cheek with their hand and sliding their thumb across the lower rim of his left socket to wipe away the tears that had built up from his earlier panic, "Anything else hurting? Need me to get you to the doc?" His voice sounded calm, but Lotus could see worry flickering in their starry eye lights.
While he was sure one word would have his master legging it back to the coven for medical aid, he could already feel his body beginning to stabilize now that the adrenaline was wearing off and he wasn't bleeding out; Rurik was probably tired after all the fighting he did too. "I'm... 'm fine.. just sore... 'n sleepy...," Lotus mumbled sluggishly, fighting fatigue to get his words out, "Wh... what about... th' rogues?"
"Dead," the vampire answered shortly, "If you're tired, then rest; the mission's already over, so we can camp here in the shade for the rest of the day and take a trail home once it gets darker."
Lotus hummed, his sockets drooping as a drowsy feeling tugged heavily at his senses, "Thank you... for saving me..."
He could practically hear the scowl in Rurik's voice, "As if I would let some shitty rogue have their way with you; you're my servant."
Lotus huffed weakly but smiled while murmuring, "Still, thank you... Master."
"Yeah yeah, whatever," Rurik grumbled, "Just go to sleep already."
Lotus murmured his gratitude once more before settling against Rurik's chest and closing his sockets, confident that he would be safe.
I know this is a headcannon on a headcannon but I keep thinking of Dan as this disaster immortal and the guys ask why they are called Bastille, because surely it's not actually your birthday, and he's like "no I just got trapped there from like 1659 to the storming because I called Louis an addle pate whose mum was a blowsabella... Good times"
Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus’ most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth.
Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger.
It’s too bad that they can’t seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.
(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But! I want to try and grow a little community on Tumblr, too. So, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too. I hope that you like it!)
(angst / smut / fluff / gore)
word count: 4083
Chapter 6 - Collision
Stepping out into the chilly weather, you realise that it’s nearing one in the morning and your body is exhausted, but you know you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t figure out what happened, and the only person you can go to lives at this address.
Walking into the decorative foyer of the expensive building, barely taking in the smooth marble floors, the white stone pillars holding up an outrageously high ceiling,
you lock eyes with the singular concierge behind the desk. He’s dressed in a suit, hair slick back and appearance perfect, despite the late hour. He takes one look at you, narrowing his eyes briefly at your unkempt appearance, before the perfunctory smile takes place.
He greets you, politely, head inclining slightly in interest, “Hello, Miss. May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Kim Namjoon’s floor,” you tell him, not having the energy to come up with an appropriate lie. “It’s important.”
His eyes narrow fractionally, and he says, “Unfortunately, I will not be able to give you that information.”
For the first time, you regret with your whole being never taking Taehyung up on his offers to come study at his apartment. You’d always been too hesitant, too wary, to be in his home, away from the safety of the prying eyes in the library and study hall. He’d always offered, and he seemed genuine enough, but still – you felt weary. If you had, maybe you’d have more information to use.
“I understand all of that, but I need to talk to him,” you reply. Leaning your elbows against the marble desk, you say, “If you could just ask him to come down, I’d be really appreciative.”
“Like I said, Miss, I won’t be able to disturb the residents this late at night,” he says. “If you knew his apartment number, you could use the phone to call up and he could grant you access to the building.”
“I don’t know it,” you answer, frustration building at the front of your head. Rubbing at the sore spot, you say, “I’m not interested in coming back here. He has some information about something that happened to my friend, and I need to speak with him.”
The man sets his jaw and replies, “Then, I would suggest trying to contact him directly at another time.”
Letting out a huff of frustration, you rest your head against the cool marble and whine, “My friend is in the hospital and I can’t do anything but cry outside of some jerk’s apartment. Today truly is the most pathetic I’ve felt in a while.”
You perk up at the call of your name, turning around to see Taehyung’s cautious expression fill your line of sight. He looks awfully comfy, the way he’s dressed, and he cards his hand through his damp brown hair, grin widening. “I knew it was you. I’d recognise the line of your back from anywhere.”
“That’s not remotely perverted at all,” you tell him, humourlessly.
“Is something wrong? Your face is all puffy,” he says, approaching you. Tilting your head with the crook of his finger, he lets out a light hiss, expression darkening. He gets serious unreasonably quickly. You don’t know why it makes you feel flutterly inside, so you pull yourself away from his touch. “You’re almost crying. Why?”
You push your glasses into your hair and scrub at your eyes, banishing your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. “The weather outside is windy, that’s why I cried.”
The break in your voice on the last words makes him grimace, and he says, softer, gentler, a note of tenderness that makes your stomach flip, “Talk to me.”
“Why do you care?”
He shrugs. “I care because you’re a friend of mine. And I worry about my friends, even the stubborn ones.”
“We aren’t friends,” you inform him, tightly. “Your brother wants to beat my ass.”
“Ah, hyung wouldn’t do that,” he teases, lips pulling up into a carefree smile, glad that your tears have subsided. He’d prefer you to be smiling, of course, but progress is progress, he supposes. “He’s just not used to getting his way, is all.”
“He’s spoiled,” you huff, dirty shoes squeaking as you kick at the marble floor.
He nods, in agreement, or to placate you – you don’t know – and asks, mischievously, “Did you come all this way to tell him that again?”
You shake your head. “I need to talk to Namjoon.”
His brow puckers, in confusion, before he asks, “Namjoon? Why?”
“He helped my friend,” you explain, desperately. “I just want to ask him a couple of questions about what happened.”
Taehyung plays with the metal dangling from his ear, and suggests, “Why don’t you ask her?”
“She’s still unconscious. Young-mi said she’ll call me when she wakes up,” you gesture to your phone, but when the device doesn’t respond, you let out a gentle curse. “Fuck, it died.”
“Come on up. Joonie should be home, and you can charge your phone all you like,” he offers, helpfully. When he notices your hesitancy, he lets out a dark chuckle. “We really don’t bite, YN. Not unless you ask first.” Then, he lightly tugs your wrist, pulling you towards the elevator. He throws a wave at the baffled concierge and says, enthusiastically, “Thanks, Kyungsoo-ssi. Get some rest, okay?”
You feel the concierge’s disapproving stare, but you refuse to spare him a glance back, although you want nothing more than to childishly stick your tongue out in his direction.
The ride up to their floor – the top floor, your brain supplies unhelpfully – is silent, save for Taehyung humming along to some trot song that must be running through his brain. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire way up. When the doors open, he tugs you down the hall, and taps in the code to their apartment, pulling open the doors and nudging you inside. Instantly, you’re met with the scent of rosewood and vanilla.
Sniffing experimentally, you make a face, and Taehyung giggles. “It’s Jungkook. He likes sweet smelling things, so he’s been buying oil diffusers to put around the house.”
“It’s good,” you admit, kicking off your shoes, awkwardly. “It smells really good, actually.”
He beams before gesturing with his head to the corridor to the left. “Come. Joonie should be in his room.”
“I’ll wait here,” you reply, planting your feet. The lounge area felt more neutral than walking deeper into their personal spaces, potentially nearing their bedrooms. You already feel so wildly out of your comfort zone, and you know that it shows on your face.
“Suit yourself,” he answers, still just as bubbly. “Take a seat in the living room and we’ll be out in a second, okay?”
You nod, shuffling into the living area, taking note of the cream, deep green and brown colour scheme, the crystalline centrepiece dangling from the high ceiling, the picturesque sight that greets you from the lofty windows. It looks like something out of a furniture magazine, not somewhere that a bunch of university students live.
“I hear someone’s looking for me?” An unfamiliar voice rings out, deep and gentle, a light airiness twisting around every consonant. His voice doesn’t match his appearance, wearing an oversized shirt dangling from his broad and tall frame, with some matching baggy pants. Fluffy honey-blond hair atop his head sticks all over, as if he’d just been woken up. “YN, right? Taehyung has told us a lot about you.”
Unwinding your arms from around your middle (when had you done that, you wonder), you reach out to shake his hand and his brows climb his forehead in surprise. “T-Thank you, for helping my f-friend.”
He takes in your trembling hands, your watery eyes, your wobbly bottom lip, and lets out a soft sigh, avoiding your eyes. “I’m glad she’s okay. I didn’t mean to leave without making sure she had someone with her, but I had a previous engagement and I had to leave.”
“N-No. You g-got her to the h-hospital,” you assure him, holding his hand tighter. “T-Thank you.”
He glances down at your joined hands, a grimace on his face, before uncoupling your hands and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, awkwardly. “I didn’t do anything, really.”
“What happened? I can’t ask her. And honestly... None of it makes sense to me, so please... Can you tell me what you remember?”
His eyes get a strangely guarded light to them, before he nods. “Take a seat?”
You both do, and you turn to watch him. He doesn’t seem happy with you being here, but he is accepting of your presence, if only to assuage your sadness. He is sympathetic, of course, but he doesn’t reach out to physically console you, and he was uncomfortable with you touching him earlier.
In short, he didn’t like you being in his presence.
In any other context, you wouldn’t really care and would likely remove yourself from his periphery without being asked, but right now, you don’t have that privilege. You needed the answers he held in his brain.
He begins, “I was walking home from work, passing by some bars, a couple convenience stores. Then, I walked past an alley, near an arcade and bowling alley. And something, I don’t know, I just caught the sight of her dress on the floor. She was all crumpled up in the corner and covered in blood. I just- I couldn’t just leave her by herself, so I grabbed her up and took a cab to the hospital. End of story.”
“The doctor mentioned something about a dog?”
“I didn’t see a dog,” he spits the word out, before pausing, reigning in the surprising flash anger in his expression. “But the injuries were… extensive. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did get bit by a dog.”
With a hand to your mouth, you ask, contemplatively, “You said she was in an alley?”
“Mei Li is severely claustrophobic, she wouldn’t have been in an alley, regardless of time, but especially not at night,” you mumble, more to yourself. “That just doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t what to tell you, but… that’s what happened,” he tells you, but he’s staring out of the window. You don’t want to say he’s avoiding your eyes, but he certainly won’t look at you when you try and catch his gaze. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“No… No, you did more than enough. Thank you,” you say, frown deepening the more you thought about his words. “So much.”
Taehyung bounds into the room, excitedly, and announces, “Cutie, I found a charger for you. Give me your phone.”
He takes your phone, surveying its cracked screen for a second in displeasure, before he shoves the device into the wall. He sits on the floor at your feet, blinking up at you with big eyes, before he asks, “Did you get everything you needed from Joonie?”
You lick your lips, grimacing before you nod. “He- He told me what he knew, so for that, I’m appreciative.”
The tall man nods, pushing his hair from his eyes and he moves to stand up. “It’s getting late and I have a morning lecture, so I guess I’ll see you around?”
You nod, distractedly, and he disappears down the hall, back to where he came from, sleepily dragging his feet as he goes. You miss the heated look that he and Taehyung share over your head, too lost in your own thoughts.
Finally, you become aware of your surroundings and the awkward atmosphere that you can practically feel suffocating you, you say, “Taehyung, I’ll just get a cab and charge my phone at home. There’s not enough time.”
“You don’t have a class until midday,” he says, pouting. Putting on a childish voice, he pleads, blinking up at you prettily, “Stay for a little while?”
Staring down at him, you enquire, curtly, “And do… what, exactly?”
“Just talk,” he replies, that boxy smile still in place. “I want to get to know you some more.”
He echoes, with a playful wink, “YN…”
“Wait, how do you know my class schedule?” You frown as you query the bright-eyed artist.
He shrugs, unabashedly. “You can get any information if you pay enough for it.”
Your brows raise in surprise. “You paid someone to find out my schedule?”
“I didn’t pay with money, if that makes you feel better,” he says, lips pouting. “If you must know, I went on a date with a secretary.”
With a smirk, you ask, “So, you prostituted yourself to find out which classes I’m in?”
He slaps your knee lightly, the warmth from his palm soaking through your sweats. “Cutie, if I were to engage in sex work, I promise you the price would be much higher than just a simple date. Besides, we respect sex workers in this household.”
Unable to help yourself, you let out a soft giggle of your own, and he seems so proud of himself for being the one to make you do it that he does a little dance on the spot. “Your laugh is so pretty, Cutie.”
“Ugh, I look a mess,” you tell him, pushing your hair out of your face.
He nods. “You do look like you’ve had a rough night. Tell me about it?”
You let out a soft sigh, and decide that, while you’re waiting, you might as well tell him. It’s only when you start to talk that you realise just how much you’ve been needing to say. He’s a good listener, an amazing one, acknowledging your pain with a strangely serious expression on his face, thick brows pushed together when you recall seeing your friend, grey-skinned and unconscious in the hospital room. You talk until there’s nothing else to say, until you’ve exhausted every word, every stress, every complaint that has been weighing on your chest for the last few weeks. You contemplate letting him know about your worries about your parents, their health, your work, your tuition – there’s something compelling about the way he sits, how carefully blank his face is.
You really feel as if he’s not just listening, but he’s hearing you.
He pushes his lips up in a curious pout and enquires, “Mei Li? The sociology major that Hobi-hyung was dating?”
You nod, feeling tears fall once more. He brushes them away with the corner of his finger, seemingly unconsciously, staring at the offensive bubble of liquid before wiping it away on his pants. He rests the side of his face on the chair, staring up at you, and he whispers, hand resting on your knee, a comforting weight, “Cutie, I really don’t like seeing you cry.”
“’m sorry,” you mumble, sniffling pathetically. “I just really want her to be okay.”
“She will be,” he guarantees, and his positivity, his assuredness makes you falter for a moment. You feel yourself getting lost in the chocolate orbs of his eyes, shining dully under the dim lights overhead. He looks so certain and solid and real that you feel your sob catch in your throat, almost as if you were under a spell. “She’ll be nothing but okay. So, stop worrying yourself sick over it. You’ll make me worry.”
Letting out a shaky breath, you nod along with him, and he beams, knocking you over with just how pretty he looks, despite the early hour. You uncurl your legs (when had you gotten that comfortable in his house that you felt okay putting your feet on his couch?) and stretch your arms over your head. “What time is it?”
“Nearly three,” he replies, letting out a surprisingly wide yawn, nostrils flaring before his face returns to his regular handsomeness. “You seemed to need to get quite a bit off your chest.”
“Are you kidding me?” You nearly vault over his body to get to the phone, and sure enough, you have a few missed calls from Young-mi, and a picture of Mei, fragile-looking with her eyes cracked open ever so slightly, and you feel your legs give out before you can save yourself.
“YN, be careful,” Taehyung chastises when you collide with the floor. “Your knees might get bruised.”
He moves to shove the legs of your sweats up your calf to check the area, but you wiggle away. He frowns down at your refusal, eyes narrowing slightly. You stammer out a pathetic explanation, “My legs- I haven’t shaved them in a while.”
He stares at you, blankly, before letting out longest wail of a laugh that you’ve ever heard. His eyes are practically leaking with how funny he finds your honesty, and he wipes them away with the back of his hand.
“YN, p-please, never change,” he pleads, grin disarming. “I don’t care about leg hair. Everyone grows it. You should see Jimin sometimes. You could probably braid his leg hair.”
Letting out a bubble of a laugh, you feel yourself relax. He smiles once more, incredibly proud that he was the one to put that smile on your face. “So, you all live here? Together?”
“Why wouldn’t we?” He asks, observing the tender area of your knees, pressing around the area lightly, before giving them a satisfied nod and rolling your pants down. “We’re practically family.”
You repeat, puzzled, “Practically?”
“You thought we were actually related? We don’t even have the same last names.” He giggles. “I guess, to some extent, you could probably say we are closer than blood. But no, I have a younger brother and sister back home.”
He’s sitting too close to you for you to be able to relax properly, and he seems to notice how you shrink in on yourself, glaring down at your feet.
“Are you nervous, Cutie?” And the way he says it is like he knows your answer before you give it, frustrating you further.
“Not nervous, just… I don’t know, this whole day has been a wreck,” you reply, but he can hear the flutter in your voice. He lets out a soft snort of air through his nose, but the front door opening and closing behind someone stops whatever undoubtedly charming words were gearing to come out of his mouth.
“Hyung!” He says, perking up adorably, like a puppy. You can almost see the way his ears would stand to attention. “You’re home early.”
You look over to see Yoongi walk into the house, and he eyes you, expression unreadable. “I only had two sets.”
“Hyung deejays at all the best clubs in Seoul,” Taehyung explains, excitedly, when he takes note of your puzzled expression. “He sometimes bounces from four or five places a night. He’s so cool, don’t you think, Cutie?”
Ignoring Taehyung’s question, Yoongi takes a step into the living room, eyes still fixed on your frozen form, and asks, “What is she doing here? At this time?”
“She needed to talk to Joonie,” the artist explains, excitedly. “But, that was hours ago. We’ve been talking since then. She’s so interesting, hyung.”
“Hardly,” you mumble, eyes still stuck on the pale student’s body as he drops his heavy backpack carefully on the floor. You say, awkwardly, “I should get going.”
“Yeah, you should,” Yoongi advises, with a quirk in his brow. You feel your cheeks heat up at his curt words. “It’s late, and Taehyung has class. I don’t wanna hear any complaints tomorrow morning, brat.”
“You won’t, I promise,” he laughs. He moves to stand up and taps your shoulder, playfully. “Come, YN. I’ll take you home.”
“No, I will,” Yoongi intervenes, shaking his car keys disinterestedly. “Hurry up.”
He kicks into some slides near the door and walks on ahead, not even waiting for you to catch up.
“See ya, Taehyung,” you say, snatching your phone out of the charger port and nearly fall over trying to kick into your shoes.
The radiant artist waves, animatedly. “Bye!”
You don’t see how his expression shutters as soon as the door closes behind him, how dark his eyes turn and how his lips slowly morph into a grimace.
Yoongi’s waiting impatiently at the elevator, foot blocking the door from closing, and you rush down the corridor to join him. He gets in first, plugging his AirPods in as soon as you open your mouth to thank him, leaving you, once more, bathed in silence.
“Fantastic,” you mumble.
He leads you to the basement of their building, and some of the cars in there, you’ve only ever seen in movies and on the TV. He presses his key and a car beeps in response. A compact black BMW M3 beeps back in response.
“No way is this your car,” you gasp in surprise. You haven’t sat in such an expensive car, well, in ever, and a small part of you is overly excited by the luxury. You can’t help it – you’re a broke college student and the only way for you to get around is the subway, your best friend’s car or walking. You’re going to revel in this extravagance and nobody is going to make you feel guilty, dang it!
“Get in,” he commands, sliding into the driver’s seat and slamming his door closed.
“Grouchy,” you tut, but you do as he tells you, feeling thankful for the protection from the chilly air outside.
“Put in your address,” he says, gesturing to the console at the head of the car, switching on the air conditioner, despite your chattering teeth. “Quickly.”
You do so, only making a few mistakes in your nervousness, before settling back in the leather seats and closing your eyes.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he grumbles, flicking on the radio. An unfamiliar mix plays from the speakers embedded in the headrest behind you, not too loud but enough to keep you engaged. The rapping voice is familiar, as metaphors describing the heady sensuality of success fill your ears. The beat is hard-hitting and rough, the words cut at your skin, but the volume stops the music from being overwhelming. You can picture the song being played in clubs, for sure. You know you’d work up a sweat, grinding along to the song, for sure.
To assuage the stilted silence growing in the car, you ask, awkwardly, “Is this- Is this your song?”
He doesn’t answer with words, but he simply nods, eyes fixed on the road ahead. It starts pelting with rain again once you pull out of the parking lot, and you watch as rivulets of rain trickle down the front window. The song moves onto topics more specific – the hatred of the dark, the addiction of victory. The way he craves it like he yearns for air, a thought that never leaves him, even in the dead of the night. The sultry sentiment of arrogance, of how enchanting it is to be adored.
You compliment, blithely, “It’s good. How long have you been doing music?”
“A while,” he replies.
That’s all you’re getting?
“It’s good,” you murmur.
“You said that already,” he answers, turning the wheel. He’s the picture of disengaged, and you feel shame heat up your cheeks over forcing a conversation with someone who clearly isn’t interested. Instead, you quieten down, and let the next song – more upbeat but just as intelligent – fill the silence between you two.
The journey is smooth, equal parts due to the early hour and the lack of cars on the road, and by the time you pull up at your apartment, you find yourself almost drifting to sleep in the corner of the seat.
“I said don’t fall asleep,” he mumbles, reaching over to poke you in the side, forcing you to jerk up out of your restful state and you wipe your chin, just in case you started to drool. You rub at the area he jabbed and let out an unwitting noise, once you realised what he’d done.
“Ticklish?” He suggests, quirking his brow, leaning back into the safety of his side of the car.
Nodding, feebly, you swallow and angle your body in his direction. “Uh, I just- thank you.”
“It’s nothing, honestly,” he replies. “Just get into your place safe. Taehyung won’t stop nagging me if something happens to you.”
“That… is the most you’ve ever spoken to me,” you tell him, blankly.
He snorts. “I don’t have much to say to you, honestly.”
“I- Strangely respect that,” you mumble, sliding out of the car. “Drive home safe.”
He nods curtly at you and pulls away from your apartment complex once you’ve stepped a safe enough distance from his car window. You watch until his red lights disappear from your line of sight, and then retreat inside, practically shivering by the time you get into your living room.
Showering off the stress and quickly dressing for bed, you send Young-mi a message before you drift off almost as soon as your head touches the pillow.
Your phone lights up with a text message in the dark, while you snore, lightly, into the air.
Don’t trust them.
- end -
Masterpost / Chapter (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6)
Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus’ most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth.
Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger.
It’s too bad that they can’t seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.
(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But! I want to try and grow a little community on Tumblr, too. So, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too. I hope that you like it!)
word count: 1548
(angst / smut / fluff / gore)
Chapter 5 - Solace
Rushing through the front doors of the hospital, sweat dripping down your temple, you nearly collide with a passing nurse, who you grab by the elbow and ask, “M-My f-friend. I got a c-call… S-Surgery?”
The nurse stares down at you, confusion overtaking her features, before understanding blossoms mere moments later. She echoes, “Your friend is in surgery?”
You nod, wildly, and with shaky hands, you take out your phone. “M-My friend.”
Gesturing to the picture on the front screen shows you, Young-mi and Mei Li, at your last girl’s trip to Mei Li’s hometown, dressed in traditional, vibrant yukata during a summer festival in Japan.
She asks, kind eyes taking in your trembling form, “Her name?”
“Mei Li,” you tell her, legs feeling like jelly. “She’s nineteen, a freshman.”
“Come with me,” she says, gently leading you towards the nurse’s station. She spends a couple of seconds tapping away at the screen, before she tells you, “Your friend just came out of surgery and is in her recovery room.”
You plead, “What happened to her?”
“I can’t give that information,” she says, apologetically. “Her doctor would be able to inform you about the specifics of her injuries.”
“405, bed 6,” she informs you and after a lax bow, you rush off, taking the elevator to the fourth floor.
You had already sent Young-mi a text about the call you got – apparently you were Mei Li’s emergency contact, considering her parents were both back in Japan and she had nobody but her housemates to rely on – but she was still at work, and would be until after midnight. You didn’t know how you were going to cope by yourself.
Biting your nails as you shuffle down the hallway, eyes scanning the door numbers until you find the appropriate one and you almost burst into the room. The only thing that keeps you restrained is the fact that there are other people around her, in their own beds, recovering from a medley of injuries and illnesses.
Spotting her bed right at the end of the room closest to the window, you notice the gurney is hidden from sight by a blandly decorated curtain. After exhaling, sharply, you draw it back with trembling hands, to see Mei Li, slumbering. Her skin is clearly pale and tinged with grey, bruised already blossoming across her exposed skin, hidden beneath the scrubs on her shoulders. You spot all sorts of insertions leading to an IV drip and the heart monitor to the left of her, and the sight nearly brings you to your knees.
The doctor doing rounds steps into the room and takes stock of you – your quivering hands, your tear-streaked face, your ruddy cheeks – and asks, quietly, “Are you related to this patient?”
“She’s m-my housemate, I’m her e-emergency contact,” you explain. He notices how unsteady you are and offers you a seat. Dropping into the chair, you lean your forehead against the edge of the bed, careful to avoid Mei’s legs, and turn to look at her, unable to tear your eyes from the bandaged injuries to her neck and chest. “What happened to her?”
“She seems to have been a victim of a canine attack,” he says, carefully checking over her chart. “There were heavy lesions to her throat and chest area, deep bite marks that almost severed the arteries in her throat, but thankfully, it wasn’t deep enough to cause long-lasting damage to her vocal cords. The breathing machine is there just to help her through the night while she’s unconscious.”
You swallow, feeling the final vestiges of adrenaline leave your system, and you slump in your seat, like a puppet after it’s strings get cut. You ask, rubbing at your eyes behind your glasses, “When is she going to wake up?”
“Once the anaesthesia works itself out of her system, she’ll wake up on her own. It could be a few hours, though,” he tells you. “She was signed in by someone with the name Kim Namjoon. Do you recognise the name?”
Kim Namjoon? One of the Bangtan Boys? Vaguely, you remember the junior having the same name, but you can’t imagine why he’d have helped your friend, or why he would’ve been out so late at night. Shaking your head free of those errant thoughts, you turn to the doctor and reply, “I-I think so. He- He was the one who brought her in?”
The doctor nods. “According to these notes, yes. He brought her in, waited until her surgery was done, paid the fee and left.”
You feel small and pathetic but knowing that her fees had been covered fills you with a brief sense of relief, as you don’t know how you would’ve helped cover it after the fact. Pushing some hair behind your ear, you enquire, “Did he leave a contact number?”
“No, once we contacted you, we didn’t need his information besides his name,” he tells you, tucking the chart back in place at the end of the bed. “Shall we contact her parents?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll let them know,” you reply. “I’ll stay with her until she wakes up. Thank you, doctor.”
He nods, the two of you exchange bows and he moves on to the next patient, leaving you to your whirring thoughts.
Shakily, you reach out to grab her hand, knitting your fingers together, but her face doesn’t so much as twitch in response, and while you’re disappointed, you can’t help but be a little comforted by the fact that she’s asleep and away from the pain of the injuries scattered across her body.
The shock has finally started to wear off, and you feel yourself becoming drained, the adrenaline leaving your body, but your nerves are still primed and alert, leaving you exhausted and wobbly.
Mei Li has always been a scaredy-cat, so you can’t imagine her approaching a dog big enough to caught so much damage to her body willingly. It just doesn’t fit her character. There are too many parts of the story that are missing, too many gaps that only Mei, and you suppose Kim Namjoon, can fill, and it’s giving you a tension headache.
A couple of hours pass before Young-mi’s terrified call comes through, and as concisely as you can, you explain the situation and she promises to be there as quick as possible. It doesn’t take long, and you worry that she had ignored some traffic laws to get to the hospital as far as she could.
As soon as your eyes land on her shaken form, you let out a low cry and break down in her arms. Instead of disturbing the other patients, who have long since fallen asleep, the two of you step out into the hallway and cry in each other’s arms.
“It’s already so late,” she mumbles, a few minutes later, once you’ve both been reduced to sniffles and red cheeks. She squeezes your hand once and asks, quietly, “Don’t you want to go home? I’ll wait until she wakes up.”
“You’ve been at the diner all evening,” you tell her, shaking your head. “I’ll stay, you go home.”
“Not to be annoying, but you look terrible, YN,” she tells you, pushing your hair back. “Go home, shower and change.”
“I showered before I came,” you reply, defensively. “I don’t smell bad, do I?”
“No, but you just look…” she breaks off, grimacing. “You look like you need a breather.”
“What I need is a cigarette,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes in frustration. She gives you a venomous glare, to which you hold up your hands and say, “I told you I quit.”
She holds your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. “Go home, YN, and get some sleep. I’ll call you as soon as she wakes up.”
“I don’t want to leave her,” you state, staring at the door in front of you.
She shakes her head. “I don’t have classes on Fridays, so I can stay. Please, you look like you’re about to keel over. You’re worrying me more than Mei is right now. She’s safe, she’s recovering, she’s okay.”
Letting out a long-winded sigh, you eventually concede to her demands. She gives you a gentle smile before shoving some bills into your palm and telling you to take a cab. She tucks some of your stray hair behind your ear and says, seriously, “It’s too late at night for you to be taking the late buses.”
After kissing Mei on her forehead and making Young-mi promise once more to give you a call, you find yourself in a cab, driving down the roads towards your shared apartment in Hongdae. Staring out into the blanket of darkness that has cocooned your city, you feel something twist and turn inside of your chest - intrigue, curiosity, fascination.
The tail-end of an errant thought catches your attention, turning quickly into a badly-formed plan. Determination blooms in your chest, and in resolution, you set your shoulders and lean forward, to tell the cab driver to change directions.
“I have to see somebody about something serious, so if you could drive to this address quickly, I’d appreciate it.”
- end -
Masterpost / Chapter (1), (2), (3), (4), (5)
okay, i am reading some vampstille posts and i fucking love it so much guys, i don't have any fanart or headcanon ideas, but i wanna be in your gang so much, this au is so captivating
》 HHJ x reader
》 angst, vampirish theme
》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault
》 2.1k words
》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)
“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”
It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.
The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?
He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.
“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”
The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.
I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.
Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.
Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.
There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.
But today felt somehow different.
It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.
Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.
Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.
And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.
It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.
His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.
Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.
“Help me,” he repeated.
“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.
My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.
Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.
“Don’t look back!” he warned.
At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.
I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.
Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.
“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—
Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”
Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”
“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”
I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.
“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”
Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”
The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.
“Have you heard of the news?”
“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”
“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”
“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”
Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.
I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.
Not here. Not now. Not ever.
I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.
I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.
The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.
He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.
“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”
He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”
He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.
Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.
“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”
Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”
And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.
I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.
We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.
“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”
Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take over.
This! This! Oh gosh, just read this!!!!!!!!!!! 1,00,000/10 stars 🥺🥺🥺🥺 Angst, romance and twists!!!
Xerxian princes Edward and Alphonse get sent to a kingdom on who's throne a vampire now sits. Ed and Al are supposed to make friends with the Queen and her vampire sons and Ed end up getting really close with crown prince Roy.
Thinking about the amount of time I spend shipping has me spinning
Dracula au! Of course changed and fluffed up but at least in the beginning based on Dracula. Ed travels to Romania to settle a romanian Count's purchase of buildings in London. It's all quite mysterious as he arrives there but Count Roy is nice to him and insists that Ed stays for a while and they spend lots of time together and fall in love and Ed finds out that Roy is a vampire. Don't know about the rest. I guess they travel to England together and live together in Roy's new house.
He was slow to act, slouching towards you as he weakly moved your hair away from your neck, “just a little… I’m sorry”, he says sinking his teeth into your neck, ignoring his natural urge to drain you empty ￼he takes just enough so he could continue on till he found an alternative￼, holding his hand around your neck and applying pressure as he looked around for anything that would stop the bleeding. Heeseung could barely look you in the eye the feeling of guilt running through him￼, “it’ll stop bleeding soon babe.. thank you Y/N”.
Lightly pushes you away when you came to close to him, “I’m not doing it, I’ll find another solution I don’t think you understand the damage I could do to you”, though he’s starving jay couldn’t do it, even if you physically ￼cut yourself, your scent bringing him closer to the temptation, all he did was stare into your eyes, “please don’t hurt yourself it’s more painful to see you like this than anything else, I’m a vampire Y/N i can’t die from starvation… here go find my phone and call the boys they’ll know what to do, that’s what you can do to help me”.
If you trust him this much then he should trust himself to not go to far, “okay”, he breathed out leaning forward and placing his lips against your jugular, “I’ll make it quick Y/N I promise”. Jake takes less blood then he originally planned, he couldn’t bear the thought ￼￼of drinking your life essence, “I took enough Y/N! See look at me I’m strong ￼and I can walk easily, I’m rather full actually thank you for trusting me babe”, he’s still ridiculously hungry but it’s better if you don’t find out, he’ll go hunting with the energy you’ve provided for him.￼￼
Doesn’t budge and refuses to look at you, it’s like torture being anywhere near you right now and you offering your blood to him had him groaning in frustration, “don’t ￼Y/N”. He listened to you persist for a good while till he snapped using the last ounce￼ of energy ￼he had by pulling you forward, “I don’t want to hurt you! Please.. I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t stop”, but when you said you trusted him he slowly brung your wrist to his mouth looking at you with pure shame, “are you sure?”, he said biting into your vain till he felt stronger, “I stopped.. I stopped”.
Completely shut down staring blankly in front of him and only reacted when you forced your wrist into his mouth, “do you mind? I’m not biting you”, spitting the remnants of your taste from his mouth and going back to his unresponsive ￼state￼. His eyes shooting open as the scent of your blood filled his nose, “what are you doing? Stop Y/N I’m fine”, unintentionally moving towards￼￼ your self inflicted ￼cut, “I-“, he silenced himself￼ bringing his lips over the wound and lightly sucking up the red liquid￼, “I would have been okay but thank you”.
It takes awhile for him to make his decision￼, weighing out his options and the everlasting consequences of him drinking from you but with a ￼dazed look jungwon spoke softly, “come here Y/N”, he made it as quick and as painless as he could checking the puncture wounds when he felt stronger, holding his humanity together and subsiding his urges with ease, “￼￼are you okay? The bite mark will heal faster then you think, nothing bad is going to happen I can promise you that, I’ll never let it get to this point again”.
Niki still doesn’t trust himself but he was hoping you’d offer, so he didn’t hesitate to puncture the skin of your palm with anything but his teeth, eventually￼ suckling ￼on the blood that started to pool in the middle of your hand, taking the precautions to ￼retract his fangs so he didn’t accidentally tear your hand ￼￼from it’s socket￼ as he went into a slight frenzy, it would be painful for him to stop and not bite down but he’s not taking any chances as he rips away from you, “this is why I shouldn’t feed from you, I’m sorry but I was desperate ￼thank you Y/N”.
concept: a vampire who got turned fairly recently, but they keep referencing events from before their time just to mess w those around them
THE WORLD ENDS WITH YOU — CHAPTER ONE.
—A dark series surrounding your involvement with seven vampires and the struggle of your survival during the zombie apocalypse. GENRE Zombie Apocalypse AU, Vampire AU, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends, Slowburn Romance, Unrequited Love, Dark!Enhypen, Angst, Some Fluff, Action, Supernatural, Eventual Suggestive/Smut Content PAIRING f!Reader x Heeseung, f!Reader x Sunghoon, f!Reader x Jay, f!Reader x Jake, f!Reader x Enhypen CHARACTERS Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, Ni-Ki, future character's to be added WORD COUNT 3.6k RATING WARNING 18+ for violence, gore, murder, death, life-threatening situations, manipulation, abuse, degradation, morally grey characters, heavy swearing, dark themes, and future suggestive content. Do not interact if any of this triggers you or if you are a minor. SUMMARY As a lone human survivor taken against your own will, you become hostage to seven vampires whose hunger for blood continues to abound with the undead that plague what was once modern-day society. In order to survive, you agree to their pact that requires you to not only assist the seven vampires with luring in your own kind for sustenance but also to live in a symbiotic relationship with their group in exchange for shelter, food, and basic human necessities. During your extended stay, you begin to sense the growing unrest concerning their missing leader and clashing beliefs over their nefarious operations. With each passing day, their weaknesses that become apparent to you only aid your plans of escape— so at what point did a head-strong outsider like yourself begin to feel something other than hatred for a group of people who could feel nothing? AUTHOR'S NOTE This is a work of fiction and is inspired by the characters Enhypen members portray in their artistic universe and music videos. A lot of it is also inspired by some of my favorite media and my own conceptual ideas. I'm not a writer but I'm starting this story for fun and a creative outlet as a stressed-out, full-time worker. I have no solidified update schedule since my life is busy and unpredictable BUT feel free to let me know if you are interested in future installments as I actually find it quite motivating. Respect my boundaries; I'll do the same on my end, and we'll have fun around here! Likes, comments & reblogs are always appreciated. Welcome to my insane brain! © 2021, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere without my permission. (Chapter One Under Cut)
Desperation clawed at your insides upon spotting a corner street Pizza Alvolo establishment not far from where you stood under the shade of surrounding buildings within the city. Its windows were intact, unlike the surrounding shops. How odd. Perhaps any looters that came before you were polite and just used the front door to avoid drawing the attention of hoards? Regardless, it felt like providence from God.
Your shadow stretched across the pavement, debris crunching under your worn black combat boots. The sun would set soon. You marked on your wrinkled map that there was a hoard you avoided about three blocks down from your current location; this was a part of town on the outskirts that you had yet to venture into.
But you were willing to take your chances for some food and shelter. If the sinks had running water you’d stay the night, it’d been too long since you had a proper shower.
You accepted the low probability of there being any sort of food left that wasn’t already expired or picked through… but at this point, you treated a can of diced tomatoes no differently than the antidote that could cure the virus.
The burning sensation of the hollow pit in your stomach felt sickeningly nauseating as you bitterly recalled late study nights spent stuffing your face with pizza that your mom would graciously on her way home from work.
“___, careful! Chew properly now!”
She’d set down a glass of water beside your plate and firmly pat your back when you got ahead of yourself and choked at the dinner table. “Why do you wait so late in the day to eat? There’s ramen in the pantry for a quick meal. You’re home all day, don’t starve yourself.”
“School,” you’d simply say and clear your throat before diving back into the cardboard box for another hot slice of pizza.
Skipping lunch was just way more time-efficient for your packed student schedule despite attending class remotely— plus you avoided that dreaded post-meal grogginess. It was a luxury you could afford when your priorities in life were surviving university and landing a good internship that could put your mother’s mind at semi-peace.
As you stood amid a city that had fallen after the start of the outbreak, self-preservation was the only thing that was driving every fiber of your being since it all went to hell. Your mother was always busy at work to help provide for you but she cared in her selfless ways. Now, she was—
Your chest ached as you blinked back tears and willed away memories of your not-so-distant past life. If you were honest with yourself, a mental breakdown was imminent with all that you’ve endured until now but survival instincts kept your emotions at bay. It wouldn’t do you any good to shut down in your current state.
You lost track of how long it’s been since you’ve eaten a decent meal that wasn’t canned and cold. How many weeks has it been since you’ve had to sleep inside an abandoned building every night with your back against a cold concrete wall and a knife in your hand? You’ve constantly been on the move with no one to help within a miles radius, just you, the crumbling city, and the ravaging undead.
Finishing off your last ration of canned spam four days ago nearly broke you and your water supply was a constant struggle. You never imagined finding yourself in a situation where you would have to go more than a day without food and the body aches you were experiencing for the past few days was not a good sign. Traversing from the suburban neighborhoods, every liquor store and grocery market you’d passed by on your way to the inner city had been looted completely or overrun by the hoards.
Stopping on your trek for anything aside from sleeping only caused you to panic about staying in one place for too long. Were people aware of your presence while you had no idea they loomed in the area? Would you encounter someone who wanted to steal everything you owned, loot you and leave you for dead?
Running into other people was something you’ve avoided because of their unpredictability, you refused to trust anyone while you were out here. Common sense was a resource you couldn’t afford to lose with hunger and fatigue setting into your body.
The danger of the unknown is always imminent, so you were constantly on the move. It’s not like you were ever trained in the art of survival like those contestants who would show up on those national geographic shows in the wild. No, you were relying on pure instinct at this point.
The grueling pace that you were traveling at had its consequences and you grew hungrier and weaker by the day. You couldn’t catch a break since this all started...
The shifting of a shadow far down the street drew your attention and made your breath catch in your chest. Your eyes darted to the tall buildings and piles of cars in search of whatever it belonged to. Your brain was unable to dismiss the movement so you kept your eyes peeled and began to approach the shop cautiously, fingers unstrapping the velcro at your thigh to unsheath your small, dull kitchen knife.
You wish you were being dramatic but you felt like you could kill anything for food. Maybe it was just a bird flying through the area. Sulkily wishing for a rabbit or game to pop out from the wreckage, you tried peeking into the glass facade of Pizza Alvolo.
The display cases were empty of course, but nothing looked too ravaged in there. Fantasies of food popped your mind and your mouth watered at what the storage room might hold. As the sun slipped under the horizon, the cool night air sent a shiver across your skin, spurring you on to begin rummaging for your dinner, unbeknownst to a pair of eyes locked onto your back from afar.
The kitchen doorway was open and allowed the moonlight to shine through part of the room, however, there wasn't enough of it to see further back in the kitchen. You remained quiet in the doorway, trying to detect any movement or sounds. Silence followed once more, so you began your looting process.
Dropping your backpack to the floor, you removed a lantern from it along with a matchbox. After adjusting the tea candle in the center of the lantern, you struck the match and pressed it to the candle wick to aid your vision in the dark, damp kitchen. The pantries were the first thing you tried, and you attempted to rummage as quietly as you possibly could.
After opening one and then another, each cabinet you swung open with a creak was empty save for some kitchen spare kitchen utensils and stacked dishes. Absolutely nothing to eat. Nothing. Feeling hopeless, you slammed the last one shut in frustration.
You would survive this night without food again, you would do it if you had to. Finish searching the place.
Your eyes landed on a pizza cutter on the counter which you pocketed; that then gave you the idea to find a knife sharpener for the dulling kitchen blade that you’d taken from your own house. You found the tool on the far end of the counter and began to sharpen your knife like you’d watched your mom do before starting to cook a rare homemade meal for a special occasion, like your birthday… The memory nearly brought you to your knees; you braced yourself against the counter, your grip on the silverware shaky. You were just so hungry and so very alone.
Just keep moving.
It made no sense to check a fridge with the electricity being out in the whole city, but you spotted it behind you and yanked it open. Then your eyes widened as you felt cool air release from the unit along with a dim light shining across your dirt-stained skin.
On a large silver tray with parchment paper under it sat a whole pizza, toppings, cheese, and all. Your jaw dropped in disbelief. There was an actual whole pizza sitting in front of you.
There was no electricity for nearly three weeks now you calculated, so how was this possible? Was there a backup generator running in this block? You should’ve checked the lights but you just assumed they didn’t work. Doing a double-take you poked at the crust; it was cold to the touch.
“Oh my god,” you nearly sobbed aloud.
The crashing of glass startled you to your core, your knife clattering to the floor. You immediately shut the freezer door, pressing your back against the side of it, hidden from the moonlit entryway of the kitchen.
Thuds of heavy boots and voices began to fill the front of the store and the candlelight across the room still flickered dimly to your horror. You had to blow it out or else risk getting discovered. You scrambled across the tile in a flurry and blew the candle out with a huff. You were barely able to press yourself into the shadows of a small nook in the wall next to janitor supplies out of view from the doorway.
Of course, you had locked the door behind you, but you weren’t counting on a group of psychos breaking in and making this much of a ruckus at night time.
“Was demolishing the windows necessary?” a gruff male voice asked, sounding exasperated. “Now anyone within half a mile's radius who’s too curious for their own good will come running, including lurkers.”
Someone else replied, “Jay. Were you going to sit there and pick the lock? No? I didn’t think so.”
“No, I was going to move on to the next block. Because that’s our plan.”
“Was our plan,” the other man corrected.
Despite your blood pulsing in your ears, you continued to listen as the man named Jay insisted. “We already had our rations for the week. If Heeseung finds out you’re going behind his back like this--”
“He’ll what? Kill me?” The other man chuckled out loud, a carefree lilt to his tone as though he didn’t give a rat's ass that the sound would attract any undead stragglers in the streets. “Are you gonna tell on me if he even gets back?”
Jay sighed lowly and said nothing further. Seems like you weren’t the only one out here who was craving something to eat. At least they had rations; you had nothing, yet.
“I’m starving, I might as well bring that pizza back as well.”
Pressing further into the shadows, heavy footsteps approached ever closer. A man’s silhouette appearing against the wall just a foot from where you hid. His shadow was distorted but his body shape almost looked like it could belong to a model. It shifted across the wall and you stopped breathing altogether, finally able to see who intruded. There was a pause in their conversation that didn’t sit right with you but they just as soon resumed talking.
“Isn’t it the last pizza?”
“Wow. And how many of the bags are left?”
You peeked over your shoulder to the fridge, which to your horror, had cracked open, a sliver of light illuminating the floor and a pair of black scuffed boots. The brunette’s short hair was parted down the middle and his profile was rather refined; he was handsome you faintly noticed despite all of the adrenaline pumping through your system. You didn’t like how the few words he had spoken already put you on edge, it had something to do with his cocky demeanor.
“Looks like two weeks worth for all seven of us.”
Jay groaned at the ceiling.
The two shared a hearty laugh despite their circumstances.
“I need all of that on a mug,” Jay said, momentarily peering over his shoulder.
“At least Jungwon’s nice enough to grow you some corn.”
“You’re right, I have that to look forward to at least.”
As the man pulled open the door, your eyes immediately went to the massive sword strapped to his back; it was over half his height and you could tell he stood at an intimidating height. Your fingers gripped the wooden handle of the pizza cutter, readying yourself.
The other man came into view as well; he wore all black with multiple blades strapped to either of his clothed thighs. He was a bit leaner than the other and nearly the same height. Just as good looking, from the side at least. You took them both in; tall, armed, and dangerous. Your mind raced for what to do next.
Remain hidden and continue watching? Make a bolt for it? Attack? They were going to steal the pizza that you found. Your pizza. You couldn’t let them, and you wanted to believe you stood a chance despite all odds.
The man with the sword bent over to pick up a translucent bag filled with red liquid from the bottom section of the freezer that you hadn’t noticed before. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be in the shape of a… blood bag.
You deduced that they may have more resources at their disposal. Were they staying at a hospital?
The man tossed a bag in the air before catching it and shoving it into a satchel.
“Don’t worry Jay, I’ll share some with you when we get back to the precinct.”
“Nope, You’re not gonna drag me into your bloodlust escapades.”
“You’re already guilty by association, might as well go all the way.”
“No. You better find a way to make it up to the kids. Might as well take back all of the bags. This place will be crawling with lurkers by dawn thanks to you. Now hurry up, I can hear them approaching!”
Were they feeding on human blood? Cannibals? Occultists?
Unable to tear your eyes away you gasped. Both of their heads slowly turned to the dark corner that you couldn’t have shrunk further into.
“By the way, the door wasn’t locked last time we were here,” Sunghoon said, a touch of excitement coloring his voice. He tilted his head back as though to sniff the air.
“I’m well aware,” Jay sighed. “Don’t Sunghoon—.”
The man was suddenly staring down at you, his elegant features half cast in shadow, the other in the moonlight, like he was wearing a cracked porcelain mask. He just.. apparated in front of you.
“Why not?” he gave you a small smile.
Swallowing your scream, you slashed at his chest without hesitation. His reaction time was unlike anything you’ve ever seen, his movements were a blur. Next thing you knew his hands were closed around both your wrists, your back pressed against his chest, but you refused to loosen your grip on the slicer.
“Hello to you too, princess. What were you going to do, pizza slice us to death?”
“Let. Me. Go,” you struggled against him, glaring at his accomplice who merely shook his head while packing away the remaining blood bags into his satchel. Your mouth would’ve watered at the sight of him sliding pizza slices into zip lock bags if your life wasn’t in danger. “That’s mine.”
Jay’s eyebrows rose at your claim. “Oh?”
“You were as quiet as a mouse back here. You’re not staying nearby, are you?” Sunghoon glanced down at your hefty backpack curiously.
“Why don’t you let go of me then we can talk? The way you ask so many questions is so annoying,” you blurted out. Jay was unable to hold back his laughter at your off-handed comment. Sunghoon scoffed drily in amusement and his grip only tightened.
“Well, I’m sure you have a lot of questions yourself—”
“Imagine living with that,” Jay rolled his eyes.
You bit your lip to keep from saying anything else as you tried to control your breathing. Jay studied your frustrated expression and your overall disheveled visage, from your scabbed knuckles to your torn jeans and ripped denim jacket.
In such proximity to you, Sunghoon noted that under that layer of dirt and grime, there was a rather addictively sweet scent on your skin. He gave Jay a knowing look, but you were completely oblivious to the exchange.
“You’ve been on the streets for a while, haven’t you?” Jay asked.
Yes. For too long, you wanted to confide.
But you couldn’t be honest with this stranger, not while your stomach bubbled in anxiety, your heart feeling like it was about to erupt from your chest. Not while you’ve hardly slept a wink in the past weeks. Not when you were already so famished and vulnerable, and at the will of two men who could easily overpower a girl like you.
“What do you want?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Sunghoon felt you stiffen against him at his answer. The sound of lurkers growling and rasping on the streets could be heard. He twirled you around to face him but and reinforced his grip on your trembling wrists. You winced as the pizza slicer fell to the ground with a clatter. “Come back with us to our hideout with us, princess. We’ve got everything you need to survive out here.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you sick freaks!”
With that, you rammed the heel of your boot against the man's shin and snapped your head back against his chin, hard. His grip on you loosened and you took the split-second opportunity to slip out of his grasp, rushing to the door. The man named Jay was to your right, and you were surprised at how he stood rooted to his spot a bit taken aback, but he wore an amused expression as if he were impressed.
To your dismay, you were yanked back by the waist and thrust up hard against the wall by the throat. A mix of pain and anger flared through your body.
“Sunghoon!” Jay shouted.
“You’re testing my patience, princess. In case you’re not aware this is ground zero. There’s a lot of them out there amongst other things and you think rushing out is a smart move right now?”
“I’d rather be eaten by those mindless zombies than become dinner for cannibals like you,” you bit out, gouging your jagged dirt-caked nails into Sunghoon’s forearm. He hissed, but you couldn’t tell if it was in pain or pleasure.
“Especially a freak like you,” you dared to say, raising one of your brows.
The stunned look in his eyes shifted to something you recognized as hunger as he inclined his chin.
“We’re not that uncivilized.”
“Sunghoon,” Jay warned, gripping his partner’s forearm. His eyes were fierce as he glared at the other, then they met yours, rooting you to your spot from the sheer intensity of his expression.
“Listen closely to me. It’s going to be safer with us. I know how it feels to be starving, to not know where you’re going to lay your head at night or have your next meal. To have lost everything. You’re a survivor,” he said and you wouldn’t admit out loud how the word resonated with your whole being. “Let us help you.”
“I don’t trust you! God knows what you do to people. That’s human blood you were talking about consuming for Christ's sake. Nothing was ever for free before all this shit went down, I know that sure as hell hasn’t changed. Now let me go, you bastards.”
Sunghoon’s dark eyes darted to the outside and he unsheathed the large sword from his back with his free hand. The all too familiar noise of the walking undead was even closer than before.
“You’re smart not to,” Jay admitted. “But there’s more to the story.”
“I don’t need to know more. I don’t want to know more,” you gritted your teeth and clawed at Sunghoon’s wrist.
“Enough,” Jay shoved Sunghoon’s arm away and tenderly replaced his hand on your throat, thumb pressing gradually into your pulse, “We will provide for you, and you’ll provide for us.”
You flinched, Jay’s hand nearly wrapped around your entire throat, but you could tell his touch was different. Still, no one got away with threatening you, not for long. His black eyes regarded your struggling form, almost like voids until they shined red in the darkness.
He firmly pressed his body to yours to keep you from thrashing against him. An unexpected scent engulfed you; reminiscent of light musk and fresh blackberries you used to pick in fields as a child. It was the most delicious scent you’ve smelt since finishing the last can of your peaches.
You gasped as your arms slowly slid down to your sides as your veins began to hum. The pressure on your neck made your eyes flutter and you looked up at him, confused. The color of his eyes made you blink twice. Your knees might’ve given out if his other bandaged hand wasn’t gripping your waist. Would this be your last memory before death swallowed you up?
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“...I’ll try not to.”
His words were ambiguous and laced with something dark but you were suddenly so tired of fighting. It wasn’t like you to stop fighting, but at the same time, it was. You’d just been suppressing it. You were exhausted from the never-ending battle you fought after losing everything you cared about.
Your friends, your family, your future that was supposed to be filled with promise, meaningful relationships, and heart-stopping adventure. Not loss, fear, and loneliness.
Deep inside, you wanted to live, but not if you’d be living like how you’ve been for the past month. Still, you swore that in the end, you would never give in for as long as you lived on this damned earth.
Your brain screamed back in retaliation, but you were unable to say a word before your vision went black.
It's September therefore it is spooky time! Halloween is the best holiday so I'm starting early with a Halloween theme on the blog for a while! Previous asks I got while making this I will leave alone until the Halloween thing on the blog ends. (I'm sorry.) For now, feel free to ask some questions to the Vampire Lord of the Soul Sanctum. Should it please you.