Top Posts Tagged with #vampire sunghoon

PAIRING vampire!sunghoon ♰ huntress!reader

𐚁 SYNOPSIS.

in a dystopian society where vampires have taken over the world, cities are divided in two parts:

the bane zone, where human rebels and outcast vampires tear each other apart every night — and the high zone, where all the others vampires and humans peacefully coexist, or at least in appearance.

after losing everything that was dear to you, you’ve decided to become a vampire hunter, surviving in the deadly bane zone of seoul for many years.

but one fateful day, you’re forced to infiltrate the high zone, as your found family of hunters were caught and are now held captive by seven of the velite — the vampire elite.

as you venture into the elite circle of vampires to try to save them, you unfortunately meet sunghoon, a velite with an ethereal beauty but sadistic tendencies, who chooses you for his favorite hobby: a bloody cat-and-mouse game.

｡ warning: a lot of profanity , prostitution and human trafficking networks , slut-shaming (including a bit from y/n) , anxiety-inducing settings , mention of thinness and lack of nutrition , sexual harassment (by an external character) , vampire things , social class disparity , y/n says she's prefer to d*e than ... , y/n also mentions she wants to torture and kill vampires (lol) , mention of drug and alcohol , a bit of action. !MDNI, CONTENT AIMED TO INFORMED AUDIENCE!

｡ word count: 8672K 🗝

｡ playlist : 17, cursal ♰ aespa, hold on tight ♰ wednesday, paint it black (orchestral)

NOTES (1) chapter 2 is here, faster than i expected it! ig the few adorable reactions i got motivated me hihi. A LOT happens here and as promised, both jake and heeseung appear (well for jake, it's more like he's mentioned), and i might have lied about a certain person not appearing before the next part *evil laugh* read the warning (for real please) and enjoy the reading.

𐚁 MASTERLIST / PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART.

The surroundings are calm and soothing. A soul in a hypnagogic state is lulled by the velvety sound of flowing water. Eyes closed, gradually, the train of thought resumes its course; you can't remember the last time sleeping felt so numbing.

Opening your heavy eyelids is an ordeal in itself. But as soon as you do, your body rushes to cough, spitting out water from your now inflamed lungs.

You wake up with a start, your heart pounding in your chest with fear. You look around and immediately notice it's daylight. Relieved, you breathe deeply. Your body is half underwater, your clothes and hair soaked. A piece of your t-shirt is caught on barbed wire, which probably saved you from drowning.

From the abandoned appearance of the leftover structures, you realize you're still in the Bane Zone, but you've never ventured this far. For five years you were unaware that a river flowed along the edge of the area. You feel really stupid because it could have made showering so much easier for your hunters’ group.

But at the thought of your companions, your breath catches, recalling events. A torrent of scenes violently flashes through your mind: the way you ran and hid all night. Your dagger plunging savagely into the bane vampire's heart. Jay's terrifying grin and his velvety voice vibrating against your skin. His sinuous tongue reveling in your blood. His sharp fangs nearly piercing your flesh. And ultimately, your precious collar constricting around your throat before snapping between his fingers, causing you to plunge into the river.

Unconsciously, your hand wraps around your neck. The immediate pain upon contact makes you wince. To your misfortune, you vividly remember the sensation of Jay's cold, barbarous fingers tightening there. It sends shivers of terror down your spine.

And you hate the feeling of emptiness. The emptiness of the missing necklace, gifted by your mother, which accompanied you through all those nightmarish years, and the emptiness in your heart.

You're alone. Miserably alone. They're all gone. The hunters, your chosen family, have all been taken away from you. You're more than angry; you're furious. You finally allow the tears to well up and stream down your colorless cheeks. All those years of resistance, gone to dust in a single night.

You wonder why the heavens have spared you once again. The river water wasn't particularly deep; the chances of dying from the fall were greater than those of surviving it.

Yet here you are, alive, but at what cost? You try to move, but your body aches so much. Falling from that height has obviously left you badly injured, not to mention your left arm, which seems to be fractured.

But you bear your suffering and grit your teeth.

What's the point of going back to your hideout now that the vampires know it? How are you supposed to find a new one on your own? You chuckle silently at your misery. As if your existence wasn't horrible enough.

To tell the truth, you have nothing to retrieve. Nothing but a few old, tattered clothes. Years of survival have made you give up all your belongings. The weapons you had with you are either left behind on the battlefield or lost in the water current. The only and last thing you truly owned was your silver necklace, but now? It's in the hands of some Velite bastard.

So without thinking twice, you follow your instinct and decide to untie your t-shirt from the barbed wire. You allow your body to sink, swimming underneath as best you can despite your injuries. You cross to the other side for the first time and let yourself be swept along the flow of the tranquil river.

After a while, you see the end of the waterway, which seems to end in a sewer. So you don't wait and push your body against the shore. You crawl out of the water, groaning in pain. Luckily, your muscles are trained and your bones accustomed to pain; otherwise, you wouldn't be able to accomplish anything.

Noticing no change in the vicinity, you then ask yourself where you could be: still in the Bane Zone or at the far end of the High Zone? You don't see any surveillance posts or cameras nearby, yet you definitely crossed the barrier. But what if... this place was a crossing for the rebels? An unmonitored network, forgotten and unguarded?

At the thought, you slowly get up and start walking, disregarding the throbbing pain throughout your body and also your growling stomach.

You're not sure where you're going, or even what you're trying to do. Rescue your friends, retrieve your necklace, get revenge? All this with your body in this pitiful state, and your power pills also in Jay's possession? It's absolutely laughable. Yet you can't think of anything else, because what else is there? So you keep moving forward into the unknown, with no particular destination in mind.

After what seems like thirty minutes, small gray houses appear in your field of vision. Far from luxurious and even quite shoddy, but nothing damaged, unlike everything in the Bane Zone. Something that confirms you're definitely in the High Zone. And somehow, you're a bit perplexed; you were expecting things to be more... fancy?

However, you notice cameras and immediately hide behind a wall section. But after a few seconds of watching them, you also realize they're… turned off? No red light, no movement, too strange.

The neighborhood is also unusually quiet; at this time of day, humans should be bustling about, coming and going, yet… these houses seem uninhabited. Even stranger.

Where the hell are you?

You don't know if it's a dream opportunity or a bloody trap, but anyway. You stop thinking further and head discreetly for the nearest house. Standing in front of the window, you check to see if you have anything left that you could use to open it. And that's when you feel it, hidden in your boot: a long, sharp silver hairpin.

You quickly grab it and try to force the window open. After struggling for a while, you finally hear a click: Open.

Hearing no alarm, you sneak inside as best you can, stifling your grimaces of pain; under normal circumstances, it would be easy, as you are used to breaking into places in the Bane Zone.

You're a little taken aback by the interior. The decor is very cold, nothing cozy; it looks more like the inside of a prison cell than a house. But it's been so long since you've been in a house in a normal state that it feels almost strange; you're even a little disconcerted.

Without waiting, driven by your hunger, you go straight to the kitchen and open the fridge, cupboards, or anywhere to find something to eat. You're quick to notice that there isn't much, just bottles of water and what looks like... prune juice? Some canned foods too, but they'll do. Like, really. You stopped being a picky eater when your life became hell to survive.

Now that you think about it, you have no idea how long you were unconscious in the water: it could have been one night, two, or even three. But judging by your state, you think it should be at least two. After that, the bane vampires would surely have tracked you down. You open two cans, peas and white beans, which you devour quickly with a fork found in a drawer. You almost moan at the sensation of your warm stomach, full for once. After emptying them, you plan to throw the wrecks outside so as not to leave any evidence of your presence in this house.

Even if you don't think anyone will come back here, judging by the state of the food stock or simply the obvious lack of life within these gray walls—you can never be too prudent; You've learned your lesson well now, and the thought makes you snort bitterly. So you decide to hurry upstairs, stumbling on almost every step, to find the bathroom.

Once inside, you lock yourself in and quickly look around: the bathroom is small, but it has everything you need, including a working shower. You clumsily undress, your broken arm causing another wave of pain throughout your limbs, and rush naked between the glass walls of the shower.

And as soon as you turn on the tap, you're stunned: water at high pressure, which, a few seconds later, heats up? How long has it been since you've experienced such comfort? As soon as the warm water runs over your hair and then your skin, you catch other drops on your face—your tears. It feels so good that you actually cry with sheer delight.

You close your eyes and breathe calmly, immersing yourself in this rare and distant state of well-being. In this simple moment, you feel human again.

After showering, you observe your waxy complexion in the mirror, marring your features: pretty in a terrible way, giving your beauty a rugged quality.

Under the sink, to your relief, you find a medical kit to treat yourself. You had forgotten the smell of disinfectant. You do your best to treat your wounds and your injured arm, concluding with a good number of band-aids and a bandage.

But when it's time to treat the bruise around your neck, you get tense; every time the balm meets your skin at your fingertips, Jay's face pops into your mind, and you almost swear.

You set off to explore the equally modest bedroom. You took the liberty of stealing clothes to replace your own… which no longer look like anything, and to your great surprise, the wardrobe turned out to be women's? Not to be prejudiced, but it didn't look like a woman's house at all. Everything was so austere, with no personal touches.

Once again, the premises resembled more a place for a jailbird than a real place to live. But whatever, the clothes were new and of decent quality, so you picked up a T-shirt, sweatshirt, pants—all black, the color to blend into the darkness.

After you're done, you feel like crap once again. No matter how much you managed to loosen up in the hot water, concern always comes back in a flash. This place, this neighborhood—everything is shady; it's difficult to feel at ease.

You glance at the bed behind you; a night's sleep in a proper bed, free of dust and dirt, would do you a world of good, but nope, you know you can't stay here, much to your regret. It's too dangerous. Nevertheless, you won't lie: after not tasting comfort for so long, it's already hard to leave behind the little you've touched again.

You then close the door with a longing and exhausted expression and go back downstairs. On the way, you gather up the traces of yourself in your hands and flee the house through the window, just as you did on the way in.

Abandoning your humanity once again to become a ghost of the streets, the vampire huntress is out of the game for the time being.

You've been venturing for a long time—too long. You can feel the sores beneath your feet forming. And to your dismay, the sun just reached the end of its descent.

Your heart begins to race all over again—a cycle of pain and fear that you can never get used to. You know that Banes can't enter the High Zone, but nothing helps; you're on your guard like every other time: if you managed to infiltrate so effortlessly, a bane vampire must succeed from time to time.

At that moment, you notice in the distance, and even slightly hear, city lights, quite reddish in this area, and the easily recognizable noise of traffic.

Instinctively, you retrieve the silver hairpin from your boot to form a bun with it so that it will be easier to retrieve if necessary; it’s unfortunately your only remaining weapon of protection.

As you cautiously approach the red neon lights, you quickly notice the grime in the alleys and the smell of urine in the air. No fucking way this is the High Zone? You also realize that there are no CCTV cameras in this place.

You find it hard to believe that such a poor area could belong here. Then you pause in your tracks to hide behind a heavy iron door, from which raucous music blares out.

As you discreetly scan the scene, you see a woman exit the premises, stumbling in her heels, as the heavy door slams shut behind her. Her make-up is smudged, her hair is a tangled mess, and her slinky dress has slipped off her shoulders, revealing the shape of her chest. At first glance, you think she's drunk or maybe drugged, but then, looking more closely, you notice the blood tears dripping from several... bites? all over her body.

You gasp silently, finding it harder to cope with the situation than to understand it. Because your brain is too fast, already processing everything.

Then, you see her collapse to the ground, and your face creases with distress. You know you should stay hidden in your corner, but you can't help yourself. After several minutes with no one coming out of the place, you decide to go to her, your humanity still tugging at you in spite of everything.

The ghost isn’t really ghosting anything, you point out to yourself, as you kneel beside the unconscious young woman. Her entire skin is covered with bite marks, from the most recent ones gushing to the older ones pink or white.

You feel so terrible and decide to check her pulse, your eyebrows furrowed with worry: weak but alive. You wish you could do something for her, like actually help and rescue her, but you can't even do anything for yourself right now.

You hear the door creaking open and hurry to hide back. A second woman comes out of the place, dressed in the same manner, and crouches down where you were.

You don't know why, but her face is somehow familiar to you. You wander through the maze of your mind, and then when you realize, surprise strikes you, and her name comes out of your mouth, louder than you wanted, unable to hold it back.

“[Friend Name].” The name of your former best friend is uttered in an audible whisper, with as much shock as sorrow. Immediately, the young woman flinches and turns her attention towards the sound of the voice. When she notices and recognizes your features in the shadows of your hideout, her face twists in the same emotions as yours.

“Y/N, is it really you?” She calls your name too in a shaky voice, and tears well up in both your eyes as you rush out of your hiding place, falling to your knees uncontrollably to take her in your arms. She returns the hug, and you feel her sobbing into your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re alive.” You say in total disbelief in her ear, stroking the back of her head. Your closest friend is alive. Alive but... Without meaning to, your eyes cascade over her exposed skin, and you notice them as well: bite marks.

You stop moving, and she senses it, feeling her flinch. She hesitantly pulls away from your arms and doesn't dare look you in the eye anymore, assumably ashamed. You want to tell her, "Don't be," but the words get stuck in your mouth; you don't know the whole story, but you can already tell that she's a victim.

She then mutters, “Let's not stay here; it's not safe,” and turns to her unconscious colleague. A little embarrassed, she asks, “Do you think you could help?” Despite your aching body, you obviously agree, helping to carry the unconscious girl on your shoulder and following your friend to another door, in an adjacent alleyway.

The place is dark, lit only by a faint light from green neon lights. Stifling smoke fills the air, and judging by the smell, it's cigarettes mixed with other, much stronger substances... You hold your breath for a moment, not wanting any poison to permeate your airways, until you reach what appears to be a bedroom. The few beds are unmade, with clothes and makeup scattered everywhere. It reeks of cheap perfume, but it's already better than toxic substances.

Both of you out of breath, you finally release the unconscious woman onto one of the beds, and your friend closes the door behind you, locking it. Noticing how you don't move and your worried face, your old friend indicates, “Don't worry; after resting and drinking prune juice, she'll be fine.”

When she mentions prune juice, you immediately remember the bricks you found in the fridge earlier. And in a way, you hate how your brain is so fast at calculating bits of info: that house earlier was indeed like a jail, a jail for a woman who is (or was) in the clutches of a vampire.

Assessing where your friend lives compared to the house you previously infiltrated, you assume that they don't belong to the same categories, though: your friend's social status is likely very low in this vile, vampiric society.

All this disgusts you, but you nod to her words, as if what she just said is normal. However, your concern doesn't entirely go away and ends up shifting onto your friend. You're concerned about her current life, but you also don't want to pressure her into talking about it.

At a glance, and from the dark circles under her eyes, you know she is exhausted as she sits on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. Then, she gently invites you to join her with a pat. After an awkward moment of silence, she breaks it and starts talking softly, avoiding your stare once more. “I can't believe you're alive and safe too. Where have you been all this time?”

Under her curious look, you explain clearly that after being separated from your loved ones, including her, you hid for a long time in what is now the Bane Zone. You tell her with a nervous laugh that you still don't know how you managed to stay alive, but that on your journey to survival you ended up meeting... other people like you, not mentioning the word rebels or worse, hunters, although she must already suspect it. You loathe yourself for doubting your old friend, but it's just too difficult to trust anyone these days.

After you're done talking, she clears her throat, knowing that it's her turn. You wish to tell her that she doesn't have to say anything if she isn't comfortable, but a selfish part of you also wants to confirm your suspicions, so you keep quiet and let her speak. “When everything had fallen apart, I was so stupid. So very stupid. I was also scared and a coward.” She lets out a sour chuckle as she continues, “I should have followed the bravest ones into the Bane Zone, but instead I decided to find someone. Or, to reach him, at least.”

She hesitates for a moment, as if what she is about to say weighs heavily on her chest. “Do you remember that young vampire on TV that I used to like and mention to you often back then?” You know right away who she's talking about; his handsome face and your friend's crazy words had both made an impression on you. “After I too lost my family, I was desperate and clung to his skewed image. In my eyes, at that moment, he was so radiant, I wanted to believe him, and it was the only thing that helped me carry on.”

You notice them, tears running down her cheeks covered in blush, without her even realizing. “I indeed found Jake here, in this shady place, because that's where I was told he was rumored to be hanging out. I was naive; I thought it was just a normal nightclub. And before I even had time to realize anything, I was manipulated into staying; I was coerced into joining this ring.” Her face contorts with pain and regret. “I'm sure you can already guess that the women and boys here are… hookers. Hookers for vampires, specifically. They love to call us blood-whores. We don't just give our bodies but also our blood. Many of us die every night, drained, but that's just a detail for them.”

Then, you see a weird, faint smile on her lips, twisted with an array of emotions you wouldn't be able to describe properly... Like hope and love being ripped away. “And I'm his, Jake's blood-whore. Among many other women, of course. And believe me, I have a dog leash around my neck. No one is allowed to touch me except him, and everyone knows it. According to the vampires who have us under their control, I should be honored that he even deigns to look in my direction since he's a Velite. Can you believe this fucking nonsense?” She then begins to sneer deliriously, and you understand her reaction. If you were in her place, you wouldn't be here anymore. LOL. Like, no fucking way you become some vampire's bitch; you might as well stab yourself with your silver hairpin.

“Anyway, let's stop talking about Jake and also our pathetic lives.” She calms down and asks you, a little confused, “If you managed to escape and survive in the Bane Zone, why did you come here?” After hearing how she feels about the Velites, you loosen up a little and decide to be more honest with her.

“Two nights ago, a Velite unexpectedly came to our hideout. My comrades were taken away by him and his henchmen. So now I'm alone, and I won't be able to survive very long in the Bane Zone without anyone.” You swallow hard since what comes next is still painful to recount. “I can still hear their screams in my head. I simply can't leave them in the hands of this monster. I also need to get back the necklace my mother gave me. It's the last thing that connects me to her and my family. And I'm sure that bastard is keeping it safe,” your jaw clenching at the last sentence.

You see your friend deep in thought. “The Velite you mentioned, do you know his name?” You snicker at her question; you wish you didn't know his name, but he made sure you knew it, and it'd be engraved in your memory, wouldn't it?

“Jay, it's Jay.” Uttering his name is pure torture.

“Oh,” she blurts out, taken aback. “I’ve heard Jake say his name several times,” she recalls. “They’re probably friends.”

You're not sure you understand where her thoughts are leading until she almost exclaims with joy before remembering where she is and leaning closer to you to whisper. “Your goal is to infiltrate the Velites, right?” Until now, you hadn't really thought about it, but you nod in agreement because, indeed, it's the only place where you can do what you want. “In three days, there will be a blood moon. And the vampires of the High Zone love to celebrate the milestone with a special... party.” You listen to her attentively: “To spice up their evening, they select a few people from our ring to go there, since Jake is... a VIP client,” something that makes you both shudder with disgust. But right after that, you pause, realizing what she's implying.

“Wait, wait, you want me to pretend to be a... blood-whore?” Words are hard to get out of your mouth and leave a bitter taste. Your old friend nods affirmatively, and her face wrinkles into a sorry expression. “Right now, I don't see any other way for you to get into their district. Security is really tight, and you'd get caught immediately.”

Then she adds, “I heard that this time the party is a masquerade ball, like in the old days for those devils,” and you realize that the opportunity is indeed perfect; Jay won't be able to recognize your face or track your scent among so many people.

The idea of being surrounded by so many bloodsuckers is already driving you crazy, though. Can you really do it? What's more, in this... role. No offense to your friend.

But just as you're in the middle of the intense discussion, you're interrupted by the sound of a loud knock on the door. “Hey [Name]-bitch, I know you're there. Get your ass over here; Jake just arrived.”

The brutality of the language startles you both, and you can see from your friend's face and the way her fingers grip the sheets that she's already panicking.

She gets up from the bed, and this time she looks at you in the eyes, crying out for help, and God, you want to get her out of there so bad. You want to promise your old friend that once you've completed your mission, you'll come back for her. But you know that the odds of it being an empty promise are high, and she doesn't deserve to live with false hope.

As she nervously adjusts her dress as low as possible on her thighs, she quietly says to you, “I-I’ll be back later. My... absence will give you time to think about my suggestion.” She leans in close to your ear, whispering as softly as possible. “If you decide to do it, know that you can hide here. I'll help you infiltrate the ring just before the selection process.”

You watch her reluctantly back away. She delicately takes your hand and squeezes it, more to give herself courage than to you. Then, after one last squeeze, she flees the room without looking back, as if she were to look at you one last time, she wouldn't be able to go to Jake.

And without noticing, three days have passed. Too quickly for your liking. You didn't have to say your answer out loud to your former best friend; the fact that you're still here said it all.

It's with a throbbing heart of unease and anxiety that you watch your friend primp you. In a few hours, the selection process will take place, followed by the masquerade ball itself.

It's been so long since you've worn makeup or had your hair styled other than in a loose ponytail with a worn hair tie. The smell of perfume makes you sick, but you put up with it. When she finishes your makeup, you can hardly recognize yourself in the dirty mirror; your hair has been neatly styled and arranged into an elegant bun, leaving two strands to fall delicately in front. Your eyes are like those of a fox, enhanced with smoky black eyeshadow and long eyeliner. Your skin is smooth, with a much healthier appearance. A few glitter particles linger on your thin features, and finally, your lips are accentuated by a light shiny gloss; this look is too much for you, but you know it's quite nothing for girls... around here.

“Perfect,” says your friend, admiring her work. Then she turns to the hot dresses and Venetian masks lying on the bed. “It's time.” She knows you're deliberately avoiding looking at your dress; all these years, you've been covering every morsel of skin with clothes for fear that a vampire might be tempted. So the idea of being so... exposed, under their hungry eyes, actually terrifies you. Unconsciously, your black clothes have always hidden everything about you, like armor.

But you know that for the plan to work, you have no choice. You take a deep, deep, deep breath and get up from the stool to head toward the bed. You take one last look at the nightmarish outfit and frown with displeasure as you begin to undress to put it on.

Your left arm isn't healed yet; it will definitely take more than a week, especially without the pills, so your friend helps you with the zipper. And it's demeaning that she has to assist you with something so simple. You cross your fingers that you won't have to fight before you're fully recovered. But at least, for tonight, the rest of your body hurts less, which is enough to run, you tell yourself bitterly.

To your relief, she picked a black dress, probably knowing that you wouldn't have been able to handle anything else. But in any case, as soon as she totally zips it, you can't breathe. It's so low-cut and tight-fitting. You don't dare look at yourself in the full-length mirror; although clearly lacking nourishment, years of hunting have shaped your body, refined your waist, and perfectly toned your legs… and your butt. Your body is likely attractive, and you want to pull the trigger straight to your head.

As you absentmindedly gaze at your silver Venetian mask, you hear your friend almost shriek behind you. You turn around in confusion and watch her compare the two of you. More precisely, she compares the condition of your skin: yours is tougher, covered with scratches and various cuts, while hers is softer but riddled with bite marks. Without waiting, she grabs your arm and drags you back to the stool. “That won't do, that won't do,” she murmurs to herself as she starts to draw bite marks on your skin with makeup, seemingly accustomed to doing this.

Your silver Venetian mask half-covers your face, and before leaving, you slipped your long, deadly hairpin into your bun, adding a little je ne sais quoi to your overall look even though it's meant to defend yourself... or kill some ageless beasts. Holding the arm of your former best friend, you leave the bedroom apprehensively and head together for the club. Your feet hurt; it's been too long since you last wore high heels, accustomed as you are to your old boots, which you already miss.

It was arranged this evening that you would take the spot of the unconscious colleague, who fortunately woke up but isn’t in a condition to participate. By the by, you're wearing her very own perfume, hoping that it will be sufficient and that the vampires won't notice the difference in the scent of your blood. But the fact that there were many, many people in this hellish place should help. Even so, you pray to the heavens.

After a few minutes, you finally arrive at the club, and a line of well-dressed people are already waiting. The fact that people are willing to go there is crazy to you; you know that many humans in the High Zone are traitors who have chosen an easy life here, but you didn't know that some enjoy being blood-whores for vampires.

Your best friend confided in you that if it weren't to make your charade more convincing, she would never have participated in such events. And your heart sank when she said that, to say she's ready to be chosen and possibly devoured by Jake again tonight just to help you. You really don't want to leave her now that you've finally found her.

Your sentimental train of thought comes to an end when a group of sickly-looking men enter the room. You can tell from the way they stand and observe each human being as if they were pieces of meat that they are the talked-about vampires who run the ring and will therefore select those who will go to the masked ball.

You swallow hard. You're not used to facing vampires like this... You've always fought against Banes, who are just monsters with no conscience. And in a way, they're much simpler to deal with.

It doesn't take long before they start picking out the chosen ones; you don't know what the criteria are, and suddenly, you're afraid you won't be selected. What if your plan goes down the drain?

They stop in front of each person, one after the other. They stare at their bodies like damn perverts, then sniff their perfumes. What the fuck? How horrible. You feel your best friend discreetly touch your fingertips as if to give you strength. It’ll be okay.

You mentally force yourself to calm down and pretend you're used to this shit, slackening your heartbeat before they arrive in front of you; years of experience hiding from monsters at night seems to pay off.

When the pale freaks come up to you, your eyes are indifferent and hussyish, and you almost want to look at them with contempt, but you hold back. You know you should stare at them with a slutty look instead, but it's the most you can do.

And to your surprise, one of them seems delighted. “Eve,” he begins, and you know that's your friend's roommate's name. “You seem a little different tonight, but I don't mind,” he says as he moves closer to breathe in your scent—fucking too close. “New perfume?” You need all the strength possible not to back away. But you don't move an inch, even though you're itching to take your hairpin and stab him in the stomach. At his question, you nod obediently, adding a little cheeky smile, not wanting to betray yourself with the sound of your voice.

He snickers at your reaction, making you want to puke, but he steps back and points at you with his finger. As he moves on to the next person—your best friend—you feel another vampire grab your arm roughly and drag you away.

You take one last look at the person who used to be the closest to you, and when you see the relief on her face, you know she hasn't been chosen. She gives you a small, encouraging smile, mixed with sadness, both of you realizing that this may be the last time you see each other. For good.

And you understand that it means you're alone. Again. You're going to have to face a hall full of vampires who are just waiting to drink as much expensive liqueur as fresh blood.

Fuck.

You've been riding for around forty minutes, and the further you drive from your former best friend, the more anxious you become. You realize that going back to her will be as difficult as escaping from the Velites district.

You’re travelling in a humble bus; fifteen people have been selected. Few look edgy like you, while most look eager—mad people. The curtains are drawn across the windows, and you understand that you’re not allowed to open them: the Velites’ address must stay a secret apparently, which makes you chuckle so wryly. These vampires are so pompous, and for what?

But your chucking stops as soon as the bus pulls up: you've arrived at the damn place, and your breath catches in your throat. Fuck, let’s stay calm and not faint now.

You try to regain your composure as you get off the bus, following the other humans. But as soon as you step outside, you slow down, gasping, unable to believe your eyes: modernity, modernity as you knew it before, which you haven't seen for five long years. And not just any: under the pitch-black sky, full of stars—and wow, it's been a long time—you’re surrounded by magnificent glass skyscrapers, and the cars driving on the perfect tarmac are all luxury sports models. As your group begins to move forward, you see, not far from the green, well-maintained parks, a splendid fountain spouting water.

The difference between the district where your friend lives and here is already striking, but when you think about where you live, the Bane Zone, it's simply crazy. You're no longer used to such a vision.

Then, when you arrive at the entrance to one of the buildings, a breathtaking white house with several floors, including an italic V made entirely of gold hanging above it, Velite. You immediately stop daydreaming: you’re in their place, it’s real.

Your fists clench nervously, and you notice that your hands are sweating. You swear that one day you'll die of a heart attack with all this non-stop stress that's eating you away every minute of every day.

Your group is queuing up, and one by one you see that someone is putting a crimson red wristband around your wrist, and you don't like it. You have a bad feeling that turns out to be true a bit too quickly.

After a few moments, you arrive in front of beautiful, large white doors that open for your group: the masquerade ball has begun.

You walk in, and lots of eyes are on you. Too many. Predatory eyes. You want so badly to race back out and never come back, but you can't.

In the ball hall, you rapidly notice white wristbands, then a blue wristband among the white ones. The distinction quickly becomes clear in your mind: humans have red wristbands, normal vampires have white wristbands, and those who are part of the elite have blue wristbands; at least you know who to avoid at all costs.

The other detail you notice is that your outfit is inappropriate for the event, because vampire women all wear loose-fitting, traditional dresses, which makes you feel more flustered than ever; the humans here really are a freak show.

And last but not least; the glass cups of blood that all vampires drink, as if it were a refined alcoholic beverage. Ew.

Your first instinct is to withdraw from the group and blend into the crowd, hiding your wrist behind your back as much as possible. You refuse to be mixed up with this group of humans any longer, like, sorry. Unlike them, you have no desire to get bitten and f*cked tonight, for God's sake.

You grab a glass of champagne from the tray of a waiter walking carefully past, and you notice from the redness on his cheeks that he is human and not wearing a bracelet. This instantly gives you ideas, but you still need to find a moment during the evening to slip away. For now, it's still too early; the party has only just started and you can feel that you’re being watched by the vampires who brought you here. You might be able to excuse yourself later to go to the bathroom or something like that.

With your sparkling glass cup in hand, you go to a corner of the room where there is no one and hope it stays that way. Like leave me fucking alone.

But there's no point. You have to move repeatedly every time you see yet another vampire heading towards you. You can tell that it's going to be trickier than you thought.

You end up heading to the buffet and knocking back glass after glass of champagne. You're doing the one thing you really shouldn't be doing: getting wasted, but damn it, you need it so badly.

Just when you manage to forget the horror movie all around you for a few minutes, you feel a chill on your skin. And before you even sense a presence behind you, a soft, masculine, almost honeyed voice whispers seductively in your ear: "Dulcinea, do you need real bites? Because they’re starting to fade away."

You almost do a somersault and roll back to the side, confronting the stranger. Fucking hell. You didn't manage to sense his presence, like, at all. This is the first time this has happened to you, especially after becoming an active huntress. A quick glance at his wrist reveals a bracelet... blue.

And you know you're in deep shit. A Velite noticed you have fake marks, likely because you're so stressed and your skin is now covered in a thin layer of sweat. Shit. You're completely panicked, not knowing what to do, but he smiles at you. Amused, but not twisted, and strangely, unlike Jay, he doesn't have a threatening aura at all. It’s actually quite the opposite... almost calming to the point of being enticing. Those damn vampires.

When his footsteps bring him closer to your silhouette, you can't move, almost mesmerized. He’s tall but as light as a ghost, seeming harmless even though he is not. Your bodies are only a few inches apart; his expensive woody perfume pervades your senses. The vampire wears a half-mask like yours, except for being golden, revealing a rounder lower face and a thin heart-shaped mouth. What strikes you most are his eyes, round like a doe's. But you can already guess that those doe eyes can easily morph into a different look, more… feral. You swallow discreetly, feeling the lure like a sweet melody.

Close to your face, he sings softly, “May I have a name?” And you're completely dazed, your lips parted. The effect he has on you is overwhelming, and you try to pull yourself together, but he notices too easily, letting a smirk appear. However, instead of being terrifying, this expression is enchanting. “Where are my manners?” unleashing a crystalline laugh. “I'll introduce myself first. My name is Heeseung.”

You’re about to respond or step back from him (you don’t even know), but the both of you are taken aback when the ambient music in the room disappears, giving way to the sound of instruments. The strings rise, accompanied by an organ piano, and as if it was told before, the guests move away from the center of the room, creating a dance floor, allowing you now to notice the sparkling diamond chandelier above, dominating everything.

While your head is in the air, focused on the ceiling, you feel the vampire in front of you take a step back. His movement draws your attention, and you refocus on him. At that very moment, he holds out his hand in front of you and asks politely, “May I?”

As your eyes once again plunge deeply into his, you tell yourself that this Heeseung is unsettling. His gentleness and politeness, which are obviously just bait, still manage to get to you. It's as if he can sense your tension (and he definitely can), coming to you at the chosen moment to soothe your soul—something questionable, but it's as if your warning signs are failing you. And you wonder for one second if that's what happened between your former best friend and Jake.

You look at his long, delicate fingers and want to slap yourself for wanting to put your hand right there. Especially when you see him waiting patiently, perfect in front of you.

Without realizing it, you slip your hand into his, alcohol disinhibiting you. And just like that, the wolf in sheep's clothing succeeded in getting its prey.

Although his skin feels cold against yours, the contact isn’t unpleasant, and you’re unable to apprehend what you’re thinking right now. Yet you let him lead you to the center of the room, where other couples are already standing, his eyes never leaving yours even as he turns you towards him again.

You panic immediately because the last time you danced must have been at the school prom. You haven't done it since then (and for obvious reasons). Although you know how to use your arms and legs to run away and kill a vampire, you don't know if that's enough to dance a damn masquerade with one. And why are you even doing this?

He clearly senses your emotions as he slides gently, but enough for you to hear, “Relax and let me guide you” punctuating his words by gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

And the craziest thing about all of this is that your body betrays you and actually listens to him.

The music starts playing, adding to your nervousness, which makes him smile lovingly, layered with a mocking grin. You're almost certain you're going to waltz. No way.

With expertise, as if he had done this a thousand times before (and he certainly had), he steps back, letting go of your fingers, and bows politely first. Seeing everyone else doing the same, you imitate him awkwardly. He then extends his hand toward you once again, and this time you don't shy away, entrusting yourself to him, not wanting to stand out more from the crowd.

You're relieved that he's doing all this with your right arm; otherwise, he would've noticed your injury straight away, and he doesn't need to know about that too, right?

Your fingers bound together, the other hand on your back, you begin to dance; one step forward, one step back to the rhythm of the instruments. You repeat the movement three times, feeling your breath catch every time your bodies come closer, his thin smile unnerving you.

Then you feel a slight pull from his arm to draw you closer, and you can already anticipate the movement that is coming. He helps you spin, and as you see the women's dresses around you flying up in the air, you feel instead the champagne you drank going to your head, making you dizzy.

And that's when everything becomes confusing; after the spin, the vampire brings your bodies closer together, and you feel his hand naturally resting on your back; you refrain from displaying an unpleasant response, but from the pleased look in his eyes, you can tell that he knows exactly how you feel. Sweet, but a bastard vampire in all cases.

He motions for you to place your hand on his shoulder, and you hesitate for a second; your damn injured arm. But you know you have no choice, so you lift it up, the pain crucifying you on the spot, making you quiver. You thank the alcohol for slightly numbing it, though; you wouldn't be able to do any of that right now. Heeseung notices your trembling. You attempt to read his eyes, and you can guess he might think it's related to the new physical proximity and not an injury. So never mind, let him misunderstand.

As for your hands clasped together, they begin to reach out to the side. From there, the real waltz begins, and you feel yourself turning pale; “one, two, three,” you hear him whisper calmly, as you try to keep the pace without stepping on his feet or tripping over your own. So focused on his attentive words, his warm eyes, and the feeling of your heels already hurting, you only notice afterwards that you're constantly spinning together, moving among the other couples.

After minutes of repeating the routine, just when you were getting more comfortable, the vampire spins you around again, but this time you feel him let go of you.

Your face breaks with terror as you see Heeseung and his enticing smile slipping away from your grasp. In the momentum of the spin, you can't stop drifting away, then you feel a pair of arms catch you, and you gasp.

That's when you realize that Heeseung, despite his vampire-like coldness, is a little warmer than normal. The commanding hand that you feel sliding into the curve of your back, then intertwining with your fingers, is, however... glacial. Cold like ice. Vampire.

You've changed partners; everyone has, but you have the feeling that the new partner you got is far from being randomly chosen.

You feel your skin shiver, the touch as electrifying as terrifying. The man's aura is overpowering. Similar to Jay in some ways, but less rugged. More... calculated, disturbingly calm and still immensely crushing. And you know that the sudden reference to another Velite is no coincidence; your body's reactions already tell you that.

A fleeting glance at the hand in yours makes you see the bracelet around his wrist.

Blue.

Of course.

This damn Bambi vampire.

You've been collecting them, Velites, these past few days.

Fucking hell.

So close to you, too close. From the pain in your lungs, you've probably been holding your breath since the moment he touched you.

You don't even dare to look at his face, and it's certainly the first time you've ever felt so... small. The feeling is so terribly demeaning that you want to grab your silver hairpin to restore your pride. You focus on his Adam's apple, unable to let your gaze wander anywhere else, basking yourself in his frosty floral cologne.

You let him lead you in the waltz, hoping you either change partners again or that the music comes to an end altogether. And, something tells you that even if you didn't feel like dancing anymore, he wouldn't care, unlike Heeseung.

But in a dubious manner, you love playing with fire; like the huntress inside you can never be reined in after all.

You notice that your hand had instinctively clung to his shoulder. Beneath your fingers lie, in addition, firm muscles, making you clock his much more square build. You have a really foolish thought at that moment, wondering if his muscular frame makes him stronger than the other Velites.

So, you carefully lift your hand from his shoulder, trying to imperceptibly withdraw your body from his grip.

And you get immediate answers to your deadly queries.

His fingers, then, dig deeper into your skin. So deep that you feel his fingernails through your clothes, making you frown in surprise and eliciting a groan of pain that you keep carefully between your mouth; a bit deeper and you’d bleed.

Immediately, your hand goes back on his shoulder in obedience, and you continue to waltz with him, the place where he's holding you aching so badly.

You feel a brief, smooth movement: the Velite's face is now next to your ear. A very faint, chilly breath escapes from his lips and spreads to the back of your neck. Then a low, deep, husky voice rises threateningly, sending shivers down your spine.

“The dance isn't over until I say so.”

Taking your courage in both hands, you finally lift your eyes to him, meeting his icy, ominous gaze through his silver mask; same color.

Run silently, across your lips, the following line:

Dancing with the devil. And the most exquisite of all.

NOTES (2) SUNGHOON IS HERE I REPEAT SUNGHOON IS HERE FHBFHFB i don't think i could be more obvious with the whole icy thing, and yeah you get a glimpse of his nasty personality already :p also my other favorite is here... HEESEUNG, i might have worked on heeseeung personality more than any other, like i really love the contrast between him and sunghoon in this story, y/n is weak af for him FHBFHF she's like "im just tipsy" yeah sure girl!!!! also beloved JAKE was only mentioned but yeah i highly teased the sidestory with him and y/n's bestie (i didn't give her a name on purpose). i have a lot stored for the next part so fasten your belt !!! (for the jay lovers, yes he should be in the next part hehe), anyway i stop yapping, thank you a lot for reading my crap ♡ every feedback will be appreciated so don't hesitate to send all your thoughts!

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