For You, My Blood Soothes (My Heart Aches) Snippet
Vampire Princess Mikasa x Human Knight Eren
The ending for this snippet is very abrupt, sorry for that! Also I wanted to do the cute bracket name thingy that everyone does lmk if it sounds cute or ass
I also apologize if there's any mistakes
The halls of the manor were filled with a certain amount of warmth and chatter unbeknownst to the Ackerman family. Their ballroom was filled with the noisy audience of all those with the familiar fangs and blood-lust. Families with whom they have went years without.
The beautiful scent of blood carried its way along the castle, the fumes spreading from the wine glasses all the way to the princess' bedroom upstairs.
And, gods, was her mind swirling.
For years they had gone without visitors, locking their doors out to any outsiders, it was safe that way—easy.
But now, their doors have been opened, welcoming others into their home. It was… intimate, unfamiliar.
Mikasa didn't know what to make of it.
She stood in her room, with her maids running their hands over her ruffled blood red dress, ensuring it was all perfect. Her hair was curled, so different from her natural pin straight locks. It was pinned away from her face, allowing everyone to gaze upon her beautiful pale skin and her dark, red lips. She wishes she had something to do with her hands, to grasp onto something other than the delicate fabric of her skirt. Her palms were getting increasingly sweaty, the nerves rushing through her veins.
Hera—one of her maids, her favorite—comes up to her front, her eyes crinkling at the corners as her smile lines stretched.
"Oh, my dear," she says, fondness dripping through her words. "You look gorgeous—just utterly divine."
Mikasa smiles at her, her red lips parting for her white teeth as she flashes her tiny fangs for show.
"Thank you," she says, her voice only a whisper. She only wishes she could see for herself.
Hera clasps her calloused hands onto Mikasa's arms, rubbing them up and down in a soothing motion before stepping away from her, and all the other maids follow after. They stare at her in awe and a profound sense of pride.
Their princess, their soon-to-be queen, all dressed up and pretty in red. Her dress' collar is cut just low enough to expose the round curve of her bust, her waist is cinched tight, courtesy of her lovingly devoted maids. The skirt was bunched up on her right hip, with an extra layer of fabric underneath, showing her curves. Looking down upon herself, she realizes she certainly feels pretty, but she can only really take the words of others.
Though she's sure they would compliment her no matter what.
Her gloved fingers trail the sharp skin of her collarbone, before falling right before the dip of her chest. Her eyes follow.
She flattens her palm against it, feeling her heartbeat. It sends a rush of pride through her lungs.
There, she would be marked. Their crest would lay on her chest within the year, and she would then be crowned Queen of Venolara for all to see. People will bow down to her and she won't live such a private life no longer. It's funny, it feels as if it was only yesterday that she was running along the halls, searching for her mother in their many games of hide and seek.
She always had a habit of letting her win.
Mikasa exhaled sharply as the memories flooded her mind. Her hand started to shake against her chest as she tried to take in another breath.
The feeling always overtook her in the most inconvenient situations. Her maids started to wrap around her, chiding the same affirmations she has gotten so accustomed to. They always knew the procedure.
A soft knock broke her out of it, the familiar rhythm that she had told him to use since she was six filled her ears. She turned towards the door just quick enough for him to open it, hiding her hands behind her so that he wouldn't take notice.
"Father," she breathed, her lips shaping into a small, unsure smile.
Killian Ackerman smiled at her, so proud and lovingly. His once demanding and intimidating presence faltering at the sight of her. His little girl, dressed in the finest silk in all of Venolara. He nodded towards the maids that stood in the room, bowing at his entrance, and allowed them to leave.
"Mikasa, my girl," he coons, his voice dripping with adoration, "you look beautiful." He steps towards her, taking in his only daughter's beauty.
Mikasa's hands stay pressed against her back, "thank you, father."
Silence encompassed them, the sounds of their breathing enveloped their ears as a substitute. The sweat gathering in Mikasa's palms were getting increasingly difficult to ignore, so she sat down on her bed, her palms flat underneath her behind.
"Mikasa," her father says, ever so kindly, coming over to look her in the eyes as he sits down beside her, "show me your hands." He hold out his own, palms facing the ceiling.
Mikasa shakes her head, eyes glued to the carpet, looking as frail and innocent as she had years ago. Killian laughs softly, looking into his daughter's eyes. All that he could see was the young girl who had taken shelter in his arms after a nightmare, the one who always relied on him so much.
And the one who doesn't need to so much anymore.