dearestminyoongi - Tumblr blog

dearestminyoongi · 1 year

Text

Perchance to Dream - An unexpected guest of the supernatural kind (supposedly) | 1 |

‣ summary: You were really just hoping to focus on your Etsy shop during summer break, thank you very much, when Jin – a popular bright freshman of your local college (not that you knew that at the time) – enters your life uninvited. Well, kinda. You did invite him inside your apartment, but just because you thought he wanted to commission something. Which was a terrible mistake: the moment he’s inside he dramatically announces he’s the descendant of a vampire (‘thank you for granting me permission to enter your abode, by the way.’) and that he needs your expertise to become a full-fledged one. All because you have a Minor in Folklore and Mythology. Well... every famous business has a particular and remarkable starting background, right?

‣ pairing: Jin x gender neutral reader

‣ genre: vampire au; mythical creatures au; crack; slice of life; fluff; humour; series of drabbles; college verse; slight twists; minor character death (no bts, no details); age gap; strangers to friends to lovers; some power imbalance but it never comes to play; they are both idiots but like, endearing ones

‣ word count: 3.2k

‣ chapters: 1

Notes: All that I could think about in the last few days has been him, so I finally finished the first instalment. Have fun! As always, English is not my first language.

When Jin knocked at your door, you thought someone hired a stripper for you.

An honest presumption: it was a late Friday’s summer evening, he was a stranger, he appeared to only be donning a long beige trenchcoat with no pants and no shoes on (okay, that last part even you could not account for) and he looked to be ecstatic to see you, in your basketball shorts and dirty tank top.

He was also drop-dead gorgeous, like a doll came to life and not one of those creepy ones.

Oh, Jeremy, you did it again, you little rascal, you thought to yourself, half-amused and half-exasperated, then promptly shut the door in his face. Sadly, you had the rest of the night already programmed and a tryst had to be appointed with a little advance to accommodate your lifestyle.

He didn’t knock again; instead, he rang the doorbell for one minute straight until you gave up and went to face him again, this time with a pronounced frown to complete your look.

His pouting, full lips frowned back at you, while he passed a slender hand through his already messy hair. His long, black strands flopped down on his forehead with a muted splat, in a wet tangle that he still managed to pull off effortlessly.

It had not rained that day.

“That was rud–,” he started to say when you interrupted him by throwing something at him.

He squeaked at you, trying to keep close the buttonless trenchcoat by its lapels while simultaneously catching it. It, being 50 pounds. He blinked his deep brown eyes at the now crumpled money and then at you.

Your next mistake was when you told him: “I respect the fact that you have a job to do, but I’m not interested in buying sex, so thank you, but no thank you. Uh, could you please just take a taxi home?”

In the next 5 minutes, you were informed through some loud yelling of the fact he was not a stripper. And you came to regret that he wasn’t, if only to spare your ears the torture.

As the sound of “How dare you treat me like that?” mixed with the screech of “Are you so rude to all the people who knock at your door? What if I was just trying to sell you cookies?! Wait no, that’s–” you quickly realized then that, his chosen profession notwithstanding, he must have sought you out for a specific reason. You didn’t learn your lesson and proceeded to make another assumption: since you were not his client, he must have been yours.

This consideration, and the mass of people who were starting to stare and congregate by the sidewalk in little hubs chocked full of gossip, brought you to the following misstep: you invited him inside your home.

“Look, look, sorry okay, let’s talk it over yeah? Please come in,” you rushed out the moment he took in a breath.

A step inside and he burst out in a posh voice opposite to the tone he just used to scream at you: “Thank you for finally granting me permission to enter your abode.”

You closed once more your door and turned to look at him incomprehensibly, ten seconds in and you were already beginning to wonder what it was exactly that you invited into your life. Was this one of your lost, long-time-no-see, vicious archenemies made when you were still basically a baby and that you have completely forgotten about?

He seemed overjoyed, waiting for you to have a reaction.

“Ah… you’re welcome.” And then, after some seconds of uncertainty: “Why are you here?”

Immediately the boy jumped on this opportunity and with a dramatic swish of his hand, he sauntered inside your modest living room, leaving behind various dirty footprints on the polished parquet while at it, before sitting on your dark brown leather chaise-longue. He probably would have sprawled on it too, if not for his immodest attire. As it was he very delicately rested his wide shoulder on the back of it and kept his knees primly closed together.

“I’ve asked around and I decided to seek out your extended expertise for a matter of genealogy. ‘Tis an affair of the most delicate kind and only a renowned, persistent and dedicated professional can help me with it,” he explained, without actually saying anything relevant.

Well, you said to yourself, genealogy is not exactly why I opened my Etsy shop, but maybe he just wants me to help him trace something that was of his family with my knowledge and contacts. He’s a bit confused, and strange to boot, but maybe it’d be a quick buck.

“For sure,” you reassured him, wondering if, perhaps, he just had a memory problem since he seemed to have already forgotten your first meeting, what with all his compliments. You tentatively drew near him, but refrained from sitting. Introducing yourself sounded like the sensible thing to do, so you did just that and you also gave him your business’s name.

No flicker of recognition sparked into his eyes.

He paid you back the respect, though, and the stranger became a Kim Seokjin, whose name you somewhat faintly recalled hearing whispered about on campus. Not that you could place what it was associated with.

“Let’s cut the chase short,” he proclaimed, placing his elbow on the armrest and his chin in his palm, while you spied the other hand tightening on the lapels. “I imagine you know why I’m here now, what with everything I told you.”

Not only a memory problem, but a distorted perception, because surely he didn’t tell you jack sh–

“I’m a descendant of a vampire and I request your mastery of the dark arts to achieve my life-long goal to ascend from fledgling to prime vampire and finally to grand master so that I can live eternally and perpetually reign on this land” he announced grandly, looking at you with an intense, piercing gaze.

And just like that he left you shell-shocked.

You’re just there, looking at his still raging red face from the screaming match that occurred what seems an eternity ago, left wondering if he truly just used The Sims’s vernacular in reference to vampirism. Nevermind the fact that he introduced such a topic with so much nonchalance.

Then: “So you’re not a buyer?”

You invited him thinking he was a client, and now you realize he’s just a scrambling idiot. You could hear the cha-ching of the lost money fading in the distance.

You definitely also heard him yell again: “You sell drugs?!”

He sprung from the chaise-longue as if it was on fire, and he was now acting as if you were the crazy, disillusioned, dangerous person here after what he just proclaimed. His face was white like a sheet, and ironically enough, what with his pupils blown out from adrenaline, now he appeared more of an undead person than before. He got up and started to scramble in an awkward dance around you, trying to scutter off while keeping his distance from you. Sadly for him, wherever he went in your quaint living room, it was still too close for him to attempt a run at the entrance.

You stood still and watched him go round and round for a minute, contemplating what exactly brought you here to live this moment and who should you have killed to never experience it.

Finally, you put him out of his misery.

“No. I sell antiques,” you drily informed him. Seokjin looked hesitantly at you, debating if he should believe you. “Sometimes people want to come to inspect the product before buying it. But I usually make an appointment for that. I just thought I mixed the days, or that I forgot I gave my address to someone.”

He looked around, maybe noticing for the first time the old furniture that surrounded him. All polished, dark wood and consumed, soft leather, with heavy velvet curtains with gold brocade at the fringes barring every window. The delicate glass knick-knacks on the shelves and the even more elaborate ceramic sets in the cupboards. It was a grandparent’s house and looked the part, right down to the grandfather clock going ‘tick-tick-tick-tick’ in the corner. His shoulders slumped down with a relieved sigh.

“Why did your mind jump immediately to drugs, dude,” you couldn’t help yourself to poke fun at him. Especially because why would a murderous vampire fear illicit affairs like that? He couldn’t even keep his story straight.

He immediately retorted, even if his face was rapidly pinking once more: “You think I’m a stripper and then you think I’m here as a ‘buyer’,” he stated as if that’s explained everything. You could see his point, but still– you had an even better one to make.

“You came into my home naked, with only an ill-fitted trenchcoat on and announced you think you’re a vampire,” you countered, deadpan. “Do you always go around telling everyone that?”

“I do not think I’m a vampire,” he protested, wagging a finger at you. You bet he would have placed the other hand on his hip to complete the look of a disappointed teacher if he could have, without flashing you. “I am a descendant of a vampire and so I am partly vampire,” he specified as if it mattered anything. “And of course not,” he lastly scoffed at you.

“Ok, stop using the word vampire,” you said then, already fed up with it all.

“Aha!” Jin erupted. “You just did that! And why should I not acknowledge what I am, mmh?” He resumed his flair, leaning casually against a very precious and rickety closed secretaire. The wood creaked ominously, moving slightly on the weakest, chipped leg, and you saw him stiffen, even while he continued: “Are you jealous? You wish you were a vampire, too, uh?”

“You called yourself a fledgling,” you waved your hand around, glaring at him until he sheepishly moved away from further damaging your personal effects. “Who in their right mind would resent you such destiny? If you were what you said, you’re little more than a human– no, you’re worse off than any regular Joe, because you have none of the advantages and all of the little nuisances. No superior strength, no immortality, no higher powers and still prey to the sun, moving water and with the thirst of a bloodsucker.”

You took a deep breath, trying to cool down. Higher powers above know, you hated when people touch so carelessly things they do not know the value of. You didn’t just sell antiques: you collected them, took care of them, restored them as best as you could, then you left them in the hands of people who’ll love them and give them new life in their homes.

Moving your hands around in an exasperated fashion, you pointed at the front door: “Come to your senses: this is not what you want out of your life. And now: shoo!”

Jin, from mute, transformed himself in a sputtering mess. He shook his head while he tried to hide behind the chaise-longue he was previously sitting on. “Y-you can’t throw me out! L-listen, I didn’t lie… okay?”

“I don’t care–,” you started.

“Vampirism is not a joke, I get it!” He seemed on the verge of crying, now. “But it’s the only choice I have. All my life I’ve lived like this, feeling limited and never knowing why, and when it was explained to me it all suddenly made sense. I was so excited I’d do anything to stop feeling cut in half, to regain that other part, even if it means leaving the rest behind. You said it yourself: my condition is not one to be envied of. Please, please help me!”

A heavy fatigue assaulted you and you wished the night to be over and done, to rest your head on a soft pillow and leave your thoughts to wander in all the shadowed and hidden places of a slumber deep as death. You released a sigh coming straight from your soul.

You’re not above throwing someone out of your house, even if you invited them in, but you must admit that on this occasion it would feel especially cruel, considering his state. You decide to address this instead of answering his plea.

“Do you own any clothes or…?”

Whether it was because of nerves or an attempt to appease you, Seokjin was all too eager to regurgitate everything like a river in flood: “Ah, you see… I asked around for you, because I’ve heard you might be of use to my situation and I think it came around, yeah? I mean, some people might have heard why I wanted to contact you. Anyway, I was a the gym and not to gloat or anything but I can lift impressive weights.”

You glanced at his broad shoulders, wondering if he deluded himself to possess inhuman strength only because of natural physical talents.

He continued: “There were some students there, not my friends per se, but I recognized them because I saw them at my dormitory and around classes, right? And they kept watching me doing my reps for a while and then– then they approached and jokingly said the reason I was that good, was because I was a vampire and it was not fair to show them up like that. I thought they were just regular gym bros and were playing around but then I guess, they wanted to play a prank, I d-don’t know… but after I showered my clothes had disappeared and with it my gym bag, with my telephone, wallet, room key, everything–” He passed a hand through his hair; the strands, while drying, had started to curl charmingly around his visage and you thought he’d be luckier trying to pass for a cherub than a vampire. “There was just a note,” he drily finished, before fishing for it in one of the pockets and throwing the crumpled paper to you.

You caught it midair and inspected it. A lined sheet, jagged on the side where it was torn from a notebook, with a couple of smudged fingertips from ink and water on the bottom line. It didn’t smell much of anything, though if you paid enough attention you would perhaps guess where it had been. Chlorine and sandalwood soap.

Inside it, a derisive message in blocky calligraphy read: ‘Hey bat, don’t need any of that to go to sleep head down butt naked on a tree, right? tonite is going to snow buuuut guess that’s not a problem for a cold blooded leech AHAHAHAH!!’ It was followed by some other crude drawings.

You sighed again.

“This is why you came to me.”

At this point, it wasn’t a question anymore, but Seokjin nodded, keeping his head down and rubbing his hands self-consciously. “I was thinking of approaching you in a different way, obviously, but wanting it doesn’t get you the thing you wish for, I suppose. I had no other place to go, my parents don’t even live in this country. I found this trenchcoat in an almost empty lost and found bin, otherwise I would have had to walk through four neighbourhoods in a towel.”

You watched him trying to laugh it up, but no matter how much he tried, the corner of his lips continued to point downward and you could see from the other side of the room that his feet didn’t just leave gravel and mud on your floor, but also specks of blood. He chose that, to go out and walk for a half an hour to ask a stranger to help him become a vampire, rather than walk in his dormitory searching for a friend amenable to welcome him.

For the third time, you released all your breath in a sigh. And you made a choice of your own.

“Wait a sec,” you instructed, and then you turned your back to him and disappeared up the stairs. You left him for 5 minutes, if that, and when you came back, you locked your gaze with his dark brown eyes and called him forward. He reluctantly abandoned his hiding place behind the chaise-longue, and once he was at an arm’s length from you, he got hit with the bundle you had in one of your hands.

“I’ll give you three things, and in exchange, I demand one from you,” you started, while he fumbled with the clothes you launched at him. You nodded at them: “First: something to wear,” then you point at the ceiling, waiting for him to incline his head to look at the impressive empire chandelier above your heads. (That’s not what you meant to show him, it’s just that you’re very proud of it so you never waste an occasion to showcase it.) “Second: a guest room for the night on the first floor. Lastly–”

And here you touched him for the first time, pinching his chin between the pointed finger and thumb of your right hand to bring his eyes back to you. “Lastly, I give you my promise to help you achieve your dearest wish to become a vampire.” Seokjin’s eyes widened at that. “But it isn’t without a price for you. I’ll help you with the first two regardless, so don’t let that hold you back if you want to forsake your fool’s plan: do so now. Because if you want my word to achieve your ambition, I demand something you hold in your heart, however dormant it might be now, and that it’ll still be there once you raise, changed and undead.”

You left him to stew, pondering and questioning, before saying it: “Your vengeance, your bloodlust and obedience, in short the drive behind your lifeforce, they’ll be bound to me. You’ll have to heed my counsel, my will. And these are the demands I’ll ask: you shall never endanger recklessly others without cause and reason, never go against the natural course of life, never prey on the defenceless. And you won’t ever expose yourself to the world, irrevocably changing people when they’re not ready to leave behind their life just to fill the void of your lonely undead existence.”

In the silence of your old house, the chime of the grandfather clock behind Seokjin made him start. His cool hand raised to envelop your cold one, but you didn’t relent your grasp, keeping him ensnared in your stare. If you truly were going to help him, if he was to become a force of nature against nature itself, then you needed him to be anchored to something. To let him wander, unassisted, with turbulent desires stirring right beneath paper-thin skin made of steel, ready to explode and sown disaster, it would simply be irresponsible. You were taught everything about legends and monsters, so maybe he did come to the right person, after all: if he could become a vampire, if you found the right recipe to transform him and he was cut for it, then you were going to help him maintain his human side, too.

“Vengeance, bloodlust…?” He whispered to you, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“All these things will be mine,” you repeated. “And if you will fail to meet these expectations, I’ll make sure to cut short your eternity. Understood?”

A moment passed.

Then Kim Seokjin’s chin dipped and he answered with a singular, profound nod of his head.

If you liked it, please Reblog and Comment!

Your support would truly help me and I’d like to hear from you! Thank you for reading, see you soon~ (｡●́‿●̀｡)