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sel-enha-phile · 6 months ago

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A Symphony of Midnight

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

✩ Enhypen x Fem!Reader ✩ Word Count: 3.3k ✩ Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Death, Blood, War ✩ ✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩ When an ancient relic shatters and the treaty safeguarding peace between humans and vampires is broken, Y/N Valerian finds herself accused of the unthinkable—the murder of her father and the destruction of the relic. Thrust into a perilous world of supernatural intrigue, she becomes entangled with the Seven Vampire Princes of the Anaima bloodline.

Amid rising tensions, political machinations, and the looming threat of war, Y/N must navigate a labyrinth of deception while grappling with a forbidden love that defies centuries-old laws. But the greatest revelation lies within herself: her blood holds the power to either doom the world to annihilation or offer its ultimate salvation. ✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

The grand chamber of the Valerian Estate gleamed with lavish splendor, its polished marble floors reflecting the soft glow of countless candles suspended in crystal chandeliers. Every surface seemed to catch the light, amplifying the grandeur of the occasion. The air was alive with a symphony of voices- human and vampire mingling in a precarious sort of harmony.

For two centuries, the Luminis Accord had upheld an uneasy peace between the two races, and tonight’s bicentennial celebration was meant to further solidify that fragile coexistence.

You lingered at the very edge of the crowd where your existence went unnoticed; a goblet of wine resting idly in your hand, its deep crimson swirling as you moved your wrist absently. It wasn't that you preferred to drink all that much. In all honesty the stench of liquor of any sort made your stomach churn and your head quite a bit dizzier than one's normal state of tipsiness. So, a lack of sobriety is not something you often found yourself aiming for, lest your mind needed clearing.

Tonight was one of those nights. For some reason your senses were on high alert, and it brought an ostentatious unease to you as if you were apart from yourself. You stand to be around vampires tonight; but oddly enough it bothered you even more to be around your own kind.

Your eyes traced the room before landing on your father, Lord Callan Valerian. He moved through the sea of dignitaries with a confidence that seemed effortless, his silver hair catching the chandelier's light as though it were a crown.

It would make sense if it were. He was what could be equivalent to royalty in your world. His great- great grandfather had been the one to present the Luminis Accord to the vampires; so to the current assembly and those before, anyone of the valerian blood was a symbol of unity, the architect of a treaty that had held firm against decades of doubt and mistrust- a leader in the simplest sense.

For decades there was only men born to the Valerian blood- the product of what many believed to be a curse used in the making of the treaty- seven sons to a family to mirror the seven Princes. Your father's only heir was you.

At first many questions your father's lineage due to only you being born- a female. The first since the making of the treaty. Had your father went against the rules?

The rules were simple. Any women born the same year as the one of Valerian blood were for selection- as long as they were pure.

It was a rather stupid rule you felt, in the times you lived in. But your mother was the same age as your father. And to everyone's knowledge had been celibate up until her betrothal. Did he have relations with someone other than a woman you had called your mother?

It didn't seem that way at your mother's deathbed. Your young self-remembered vividly just how loud your father had wailed. As if he was grieving even beyond your mother's life.

After her death he put so much into leading, even the Ambassadors and Council members who used to be against him vied for his attention, their deference a testament to his influence. He was their savior.

To you, he was simply Father- a man of uncompromising principles and even stricter expectations, whose shadow you had never fully stepped out of.

Yet tonight, something about him was different. His expression, always composed, carried a tension that was hard to ignore. His smiles were fleeting, forced, and his words to the assembled guests felt more measured than usual. Beneath his polished exterior, a weight pressed on him, and you could feel it in the fleeting glances he cast across the room, the wrinkles in his face, the crease in his brows, as if anticipating a threat no one else could see.

"Y/N, my lovely child," he had said earlier, his hand firm but uncharacteristically warm on your shoulder. "Stay close tonight, alright?"

The request had surprised you. He rarely spoke to you so directly during public events, much less asked for your presence. Usually, your role was ceremonial- a silent reminder of the continuation of the Valerian lineage. You were no diplomat, no tactician, no leader- even if one day you were expected to be one. You were a historian, content to study the echoes of the past rather than shape the present. That was your passion. A choice your father had long viewed with quiet disappointment, though he had grudgingly accepted it.

You had nodded, offering no protest, as he pet your head- the first he had done since you were a child; but now his words lingered in your mind, heavier than they had felt earlier. Standing alone amid the thrumming energy of the room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that they carried a warning you hadn’t understood.

He hadn’t smiled. Not even once to anyone else. But the small smile he gave before strutting off set in your heart like a heavy stone.

The unease in your chest deepened, and you found yourself wishing you had pressed him for more. Why tonight of all nights? What had he seen- or feared -that made him act so unlike himself? The question lingered, unanswered, as the crowd swirled around you in blissful ignorance.

Was it perhaps what you had confronted him about? The truth behind the Luminis Accord? How it wasn't offered as peace but more so-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sharp crash of breaking glass. Subtle, almost imperceptible to the human ear, but distinct enough to snag your attention. You looked out at the crowd, no heads turning save for a few miscellaneous councilmen from the vampiric side. And even the vampires playing in the string quartet.

You turned, your frown deepening, knowing you didn't imagine what you heard. Maybe no other human was close enough? So you made your way in the direction of the noise, which led towards a small antechamber that led to the diplomats' counsel room.

Then came the scream.

It was high and piercing, cutting through the air like a blade, causing you to rush. The music stuttered into silence for a split second; but you barely register that as you pushed through the door, recognizing the scream all too well. Dread coiled in your chest as your feet moved of their own accord, heart pounded, each step quickening until you reached the room. The sight before you stole the breath from your lungs.

Slumped against the polished wood of his desk was your father, his body framed by a pool of blood that seeped into the intricate weave of the ornate rug. His skin, once so full of vitality, was pallid and waxen, his eyes fixed on nothing as he coughed out blood. At his feet lay the shattered remains of the Relic of Luminis Accord; its crystal fragments glinting like cruel stars in the dim light.

“Father?” The word left your lips as a whisper, trembling and fragile. You dropped to your knees beside him, hands hovering, useless and shaking, over his stilling form. He had a slit in his throat, accompanied with two small puncture marks. And a large wound in his abdomen.

The coppery scent of blood was thick and cloying, turning your stomach as tears blurred your vision.

"Listen." Your father sputtered, his blood landing on your dress. "I broke...long ago." His eyes were wide. "The treaty. It's my fault. You're in danger." He coughed once more, slumping against you. Your eyes were frantic as you tried to cover the bleeding.

Do I cover his abdomen or this cut in his throat-

"Father-"

"Don't. Trust them...my child-"

“What have you done?!”

The voice jolted through you like a whip crack. Sharp, accusing. You spun to see Prince Sunghoon standing in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the flickering glow of the main hall. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade- as if he couldn't finish someone with his bare hands. His expression, usually so unreadable, was etched with tension as his gaze flicked between you, your father, and the shattered relic.

Before you could speak, Prince Jake stepped into the room, halting abruptly as the scent of blood hit him. His face twisted, fangs elongating involuntarily. A hand shot up to cover his mouth, his breaths ragged and shallow as he tried to wrest control from the primal hunger clawing at his senses.

“I’ve never craved like this before,” Jake muttered, his voice muffled and hoarse. His shoulders shook, his darkened eyes fixed on the blood soaking into the rug.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, his own fangs pressing against his lower lip as he fought the same battle. The stench of death was undeniable, but beneath it was something else- something potent and intoxicating and delicious that set his instincts ablaze. He forced his gaze away from your father’s lifeless form, focusing instead on the relic’s jagged shards.

“The relic is destroyed,” he said, his voice low and steady, though his mind reeled. The relic had been more than a mere artifact. It was a safeguard, a delicate tether holding the balance between human and vampire. Its destruction wasn’t just a tragedy- it was a declaration of war.

But it's not as if a human- regardless of political positioning would know that.

Should, know that.

His gaze snapped back to you. You, kneeling in the blood of Lord Callan, with the relic’s shattered remains glinting at your feet. The image was damning, undeniable.

Footsteps echoed behind him, hurried and insistent. The other princes arrived, followed by a flood of nobles and guards, their collective presence suffocating the room. The murmurs swelled into an uproar, a sea of voices crying out for answers, for retribution.

You looked up, your eyes connecting with the one damning you.

“Seize her!” The command rang out from the eldest prince, sharp and unyielding.

Hands closed around your arms, hauling you to your feet with a force that left you reeling.

"FATHER-" You thrashed instinctively, panic surging as the weight of the accusations pressed down on you. Grief twisted into raw, frantic denial, but the faces around you were cold, unrelenting.

The room blurred as you were dragged towards the center of the ballroom, where the party had now stopped, your please not even being allowed to be swallowed by the tide of voices. Silence happening in almost an instant.

It was happening too fast, a nightmare spiraling out of control, and no one would listen. The truth was trapped in your throat, smothered by the crushing weight of grief and the suffocating certainty of your father’s death.

The princes- all seven of them -stood in a line, their presence commanding even amidst the chaos.

Heeseung stepped forward, his expression unreadable as his gaze swept over you. He held up a hand, and the room fell silent.

“Y/N Valerian,” he said, his voice cold and measured. “You stand accused of breaking the Luminis Accord and the murder of the human Lord Callan Valerian. An act of treason not only against both your kind and ours; but your own blood. What do you have to say in your defense?”

“I didn’t-” you began, but your voice faltered. You looked around the room, at the faces of those who had known your father, who had once treated you with kindness. Now, their eyes were filled with suspicion, their expressions hardened with fear. "I didn't kill him! Why would I-"

“Enough!” Heeseung’s voice rang out, slicing through your protest like a blade. “The evidence is clear. Lord Callan is dead. The relic is destroyed. And you were the only one found at the scene.”

“It wasn’t me!” you cried, desperation choking your voice. “I would never- he was my father, for the sake of all that’s holy!”

“You stand to gain the most from his death,” Jungwon said, his tone steady yet cutting. The younger prince’s gaze bore into you, calculating. “Not only do you inherit his political influence, but you also gain unrestricted access to…further your historical pursuits, do you not?”

"Thats not...that's not true." You wavered.

“And yet, here we are,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice quieter but no less condemning. His eyes lingered on you, heavy with an unspoken question, as though searching for cracks in your resolve.

“I desire none of his power!” Your voice rose, firm and unyielding, despite the tears stinging your eyes. “My father knew that- you all knew that!” You thrashed against the iron grip of the guards holding you. “I have no wish to be a pawn in your games. I have no wish to be used by you or anyone else!”

The air in the chamber grew taut, the princes exchanging glances as murmurs rippled through the room like a brewing storm.

“You think I don’t see it?” you spat, eyes blazing as they darted from one prince to the next. Sunoo blinked slowly at you, and in an instant his face changed as he mouthed something that made Jay and Ni-ki's head turn and Sunoo made the movement of coming towards you. “The imbalance, the lies, the convenience of all of this. Don’t you vampires have the most to gain from this farce? Why don’t you tell everyone the truth about what the relic really was-”

In a blur of movement, Sunoo was in front of you, his hand clamping over your mouth. His eyes gleamed, something you couldn't place harbored in them, as he leaned close. “Not another word.” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. Nearly inaudible. "Or else I can't help you." He said, his voice softening. You looked up with a questioning gaze, everything feeling like it was happening in a matter of seconds. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, the look in his eyes and the gaze he then threw towards Jungwon making your jaw twitch.

“What do we do with her?” Jake’s voice broke the silence, tight and strained. His eyes avoided yours, focusing instead on the bloodstains still marring your clothes. You saw the flicker of hunger in his expression, quickly smothered, but not before it chilled you to your core.

At least he had the audacity to look ashamed.

“Hand her over!” a voice from the human delegation rang out. It was your father’s advisor, Sir Chetaire- the man you’d once called uncle. His wrinkled hands wrung together as he addressed the princes, his voice trembling with poorly disguised fear. “Let the princes deal with her. Surely that will…quell the unrest.” He got onto his knees, as if ready to worship the ground the princes stood on.

One of the vampire guards stepped forward but not before Jungwon raised his hand, cocking his head as if considering the propsal.

Your heart twisted, the betrayal cutting deeper than you thought possible. “You can’t be serious.” Your voice shook, disbelief and fury clawing at your composure. “You know me, Chetaire! You’ve known me my entire life. You know-”

“Silence her!” another voice hissed, igniting a flurry of accusations.

“Hand her over!”

“Murderer!”

“She killed her own father!”

Glasses began to be thrown and in an instant the humans were in upheaval that even the Vampires didn't know how to calm.

The cacophony of voices merged into a deafening roar. But you still heard Jungwon's steady voice: "Take her."

Your knees wavered as the guards tightened their grip and dragged you forward, your heel getting caught in one of the indents of the tile, allowing your foot to be bare; the world around you tilting and distorting into a surreal nightmare.

Your mind raced, desperately grasping for explanations, for anything that could piece this madness into coherence. But there was nothing. No reprieve. Only the cruel, unyielding truth:

Your father was dead, and they had cast you as the villain in a tragedy not of your making.

The celebration was long over now; humans being escorted towards the entrance- you into what you could only assume was something much more damning then the winter cold outside.

As you were escorted out before the entirety of the guests, a murmur of unease rippled through the hall, though none dared voice it aloud. Somewhere within the depths of their variant eyes, you glimpsed something fleeting in few- a flicker of doubt, or was it pity? Whatever it was, it held no power to alter your fate.

You were being offered to the ones you once called enemies. Whether as a pawn for interrogation or a sacrifice for execution, the outcome remained uncertain.

What was certain, however, was the terror etched into the faces of your people. You knew better than anyone why you had been given up so easily- when you knew no one would have dared under revere for your father.

They stood silent and trembling, a stark contrast to the unyielding resolve glimmering in the eyes of the vampires of the council who bore witness.

The princes carried an aura of dominion so profound it felt oppressive, a quiet power that all recognized but none dared acknowledge aloud.

Your people had surrendered you in the hopes of appeasing these ancient forces, of forestalling the inevitable clash of fangs and steel.

Yet deep down, you knew the truth: the pact was a farce. The treaty had always been for naught.

These beings were utterly insatiable, their hunger not only for blood but for dominance eternal.

As you were whisked away into the depths of their domain, you couldn’t ignore the strain etched into the faces of the seven royals. Something primal lingered beneath their regal façades, a predatory edge sharpened to a blade’s whisper.

Your gaze locked on two of them- Jake and Jay, who were like statues hewn from moonlight, even in movement. They had always been the most composed according to ancient record, even now they were the ones humanity trusted most, yet even their eyes betrayed an agony that cut to the bone.

Sunoo and Heesung were the only ones fully in front of you, the tension in the eldest shoulders telling you a tale you weren't sure you wanted to know the extent of. Sunoo seemed to be saying something to him.

Behind you, Ni-ki and Sunghoon and Jungwon flanked your steps, silent as specters. When your eyes met the youngest's, a flicker of something indefinable passed between you. Recognition? Regret? It was gone before you could grasp its meaning.

You longed to cry out, to scream a warning to the humans who had sent you here. But your voice remained caged, like a bird caught in a storm.

The implications of Sunoo's earlier words felt like hands around your throat.

"Not another word. Or else I can't help you."

Still you wish you could say. Warn-

Run.

Run as far and as fast as you can.

The relic your ancestors had eagerly handed over centuries ago was no symbol of peace. It was a shield. A shield forged in desperation- a desperate protection against the very monsters they had now chosen to appease. A shield those same monsters had agreed upon accepting in times of comradery. Those times had long passed.

Now that the relic was destroyed they were free to do as they pleased.

And your poor, ignorant kind- in their blind hope to avert a war, they had likely sealed their doom.

With the shattering of the Relic and the death of your father, the line had been crossed.

War was not just inevitable.

It was destiny.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩ Ahh! First post ono my sideblog! It might take a little bit longer for me to upload this story- since as I mentioned this is my sideblog :)! But I will be doing my best to update this story as fast as possible! I hope whoever reads this enjoys! ✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

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