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purpleyoonn · 1 year

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Dance of Time 3

D A N C E O F T I M E

“A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.” -Bukowski

Summary: You were finally back in the hometown you left right after graduation, researching the mysterious manor that laid outside of the town limits. Your family was acting weird, and the owner of the manor seemed to know more about you than he should. Everything changed when you entered the manor, and you weren’t sure your dance with time was going to last very long.

Pairing: Vampire BTS x Human Reincarnated Reader

Status: Coming Soon

Genre: soulmate au, reincarnation, yandere themes, possessive boys, angst, fluff,

Warnings: smut, violence, tempers, mentions of death, murder, some explicit descriptions of violence, blood,

Chapter Warnings: more flashback scenes, yandere boys, major discoveries, not much

Taglist: @psychosupernatural @carolinexkpop @strxwbloody @strawberry-moonpies @dustyinkpages @iamkookiesforyou @anaspectoflife @btsw1fe @yoongisgirl69 @toughbook @yoongibabs @mageprincess7 @dahliasbouqet @wittyreader @peachandmomo @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @m1sss1mp @yourleftsock @skyys-universe @cryingpages @drissteele @dustyinkpages @crushedblackroses @fluffy-canada-pancakes @blaaiissee @iiitsmaria @azazel-nyx @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i @knjkitten @kleirielk @foreverweareyoung7 @lachimolala22019 @namuficxs @94z-93 @kimgmzmc @thenaverse

Masterlist // Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

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Previously on Dance of Time:

You were a little confused, why would he choose to pick you up when he lives at the manor? Isn’t that out of his way to come and get you? It didn’t make sense. Plus, how did he know where you lived? Yeah, you lived in a small town, but even you didn’t know where most people lived in the town. You tried to question Mr. Kim about it, but you never received another email before you fell asleep to the sound of the wind blowing outside your window.

It was the next morning, and you were waiting to hear a car pull up the road. It was getting close to nine o’clock, and you were waiting on the front porch. You were excited about getting to tour the manor and had been ready since seven this morning.

You sat against the old porch swing, your camera bag and backpack sat next to you as you wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself. Your grandmother and uncle had yet to wake up, leaving you to relax into the silence of the morning.

You were nervous.

You had a weird feeling about today, probably stemming from the weird dream you had. It was almost incoherent, a series of flashing images you couldn’t make sense of. When you did try to make sense of them, your head started hurting, a pounding headache taking over until you had to try and take some Tylenol, hoping to have some relief before the day.

But that didn’t happen, as your headache became pounding and then your vision blurred.

The market was beautiful today as you walked slowly throughout the grass. You had tripped one too many times on it already and you knew your mother would surely punish you greatly if you were to rip the fabric of the gown she made you.

You couldn’t help but to move closer to the necklaces, a simple locket catching your eye as you stood in front of the vendor, a couple who seemed to be with child.

“That would look lovely on your neck, Miss.” You smile over to the woman, Mary, as she stood closer to you. She held it up to your neck and while her husband, Nicholas, held a mirror up for you to see.

“Indeed, it would, darling. If only our dear nurse had someone to capture her heart so, making the locket well within her heart.” Nicholas gestured back, noticing the ever-growing smile come across your lips.

“if only.” You turn around to see a man, his features blurred as he held his hand out for you to grasp as he bows a little in your presence. Your hurry to curtsey back, Lord… was surely not bowing to you.

“Please, Lord… do not worry yourself over a simple nurse.” You gesture softly for him to stand up, but he only continued to hold his hand out for you. His dimples bright against his cheeks as you finally placed your hand within his grasp.

“You are anything but a simple nurse, milady.”

“Y/n, are you alright?”

Your vision returned to see Namjoon; his hand held out to you in the same way the man in your vision was holding his. It shocked you a bit, your body frozen as it tries to determine if you were still hallucinating.

“Y/n?” Only when he asked again did you snap out of it. You quickly took his hand as he helped you off your front doorstep.

“I am so sorry about that. I haven’t been sleeping very well, you know? Sleeping in your childhood bed after so long can do wonders on you.” You chuckle, hoping he took your words as the joke you intended, letting out a breath when he laughs.

“I bet. Well,” He looks at his watch, a simple silver band that seemed to be engraved. “We should be going. I told my brother we would be there by nine.” You lean over to glance at his watch to see it was only a couple of minutes from nine o’clock, meaning you were running behind.

“I am so sorry.” You apologize as you lean down to pick up your camera bag and backpack, which Namjoon proceeded to take from you and move over to his car, placing them in the trunk.

“Please, Miss Jacquess, do not worry about it. I bet that once my brother sees you, all will be well.” You tilt your head a little at his words, not quite understanding why the sight of you would appease his brother but decided not to think about it.

Namjoon comes back around when you get close to the car and opens the passenger door for you, his hand resting on the small of your back, sending tingles and other feelings down your spine as he helps you into the car.

When you are buckled, you look up to see him looking towards your home, a small smirk barely visible on his lips. You turn to see what he was looking at only to see your grandmothers small frame peeking through the curtain behind the window facing the garden. Her eyes were hard, but you could see the worry shining through, the fear tugging at her lips as the car was pulling out of your driveway.

“Now, Y/n, my brother can be a bit…boisterous. So, I do apologize in advance.” Namjoon looks away from the road for a quicks second to see a thoughtful look cross your eyes, your fingers tapping against your jean covered thighs.

His own fingers squeeze the material of the steering wheel, the smell of you so intoxicating that he had a hard time controlling himself. It had been years since he had been in such close quarters with you, and he could help but be relieved that this would be the first of many that he would spend in close proximity with you again.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry, Mr. Kim. My uncle can be the same way.” Was your only response. You couldn’t seem to get yourself to focus on anything, like the wind was blowing its song through your ears.

You were having major déjà vu, and it was making your heart race and flutter as you listened to the man driving speak about his property.

When you did finally arrive at the manor, you were quick to notice the tall man leaning against one of the pillars in front of the manor, holding up the beautifully crafted balcony. Your mouth almost dropped in shock as you looked at the man.

He was almost as beautiful as the house itself, the pout on his lips speaking for itself as he begins to walk down the stairs and to the car. As you move to open your door a hand stops you, fingers on top of yours, sparks shooting up your spine as you look into the dark eyes of the man from before.

“A woman should never open her own door.” His voice was soft, as if talking about the breeze blowing through the large pine trees in the front of the property. His gaze was even softer, and reminded you of something with which your brain couldn’t grasp.

“Y/n, this is my brother, Seokjin.” Your mind counted the way he called the man his brother, your soul not buying the relationship said by the man. It didn’t make sense to you. Your hand that was still in his grasp was now held, his hand bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your hand as he looked at you through his lashes.

“Please, dear, call me Jin.”

There it is. Another name that sends shivers down your spine causing you to pull you hand back into your chest, a nervous smile on your lips as the two men glance at each other.

“Alright, Jin. Thank you both so much for allowing me to join you on a tour of your family’s manor.” You push yourself out of the car, not wanting to be enclosed in the space longer than you had to. The day was starting to feel darker than you had hoped, and your mind kept telling you that something deeper was at play here; telling you that you needed to leave while you still could.

Jin could see the difference in you once you heard his voice. He wanted to smirk, the shivers down your spine the only indication he needed that you were back with them. He knew that you were ready, and that you were remembering them slowly.

Only when you stood a couple feet away from them, your camera bag in hand and your backpack on your back, taking photos of the manor did Jin turn to Namjoon.

“You are late.” His tone was clipped as he stared at you, your focus on the manor you didn’t even know was yours.

“I know. I showed up to her having a vision. Her eyes were white and I didn’t want anyone to see it.” Jin’s eyes flashed red for a second before turning to their normal black. He hummed in response, knowing that if the visions were returning this fast and this numerous that the gods truly meant this was their time.

“Eden realized too late that I was there. She peered through the window to see our darling already buckled into my car. I couldn’t help but smirk at her dejection.” They both let out a low laugh at the woman’s own fate being dealt to her.

“She should have known that we would intervene at some point. After pushing you to pursue school elsewhere, finding that stupid witch to place a cloaking spell. Well, it was time.” Jin growled out before shifting his demeaner and moving towards you, Namjoon following suit of his elder mate.

“Alright darling. Are you ready for the tour?”

-*-*-

The manor was beautiful, you couldn’t believe the amount of history you were standing in, contending with the likes of Stonehenge and Athens. There were hundreds of paintings lining the walls, gorgeous landscapes and portraits of probably past family members looking back at you as you walk with Namjoon and Jin, their voices echoing off the same walls.

“Now, Miss Jaquess, the history within these walls is as important to us as the blood within our veins.” Jin spoke softly as he stopped in front of the entryway. You could see a grand piano peeking past one of the walls and grew intrigued. You also noticed a couple of different things.

“This is our legacy.” Jin continued his probably prepared speech as you walked around, feeling Namjoon behind you as you saw the small, full garbage bin that remained next to the couches, their cushions rumpled as if someone was rolling on them. But what caught your eye the most was the fingerprints littering the keys of the piano as you neared closer.

For a vacant historical manor is sure did look lived in. You thought, writing your thoughts down in your notebook as you walked, following Jin as he spoke about the original floorboards that had yet to be restored.

You were at the foot of the grand staircase when you noticed a dark coloring on the floorboards. You stood to take a closer look when your vision blurred again, a quick image of blood spilling and soft moans filling your head before you were standing back up. Namjoon and Jin acted as if they didn’t notice anything, walking up the staircase as you followed suit.

Red eyes peered at you from behind the staircase, longing filling their body as the noticed your vision turn white at the spot where he first tasted your blood, where he first brought you to woes, your fingers curling into his hair. He couldn’t wait until you remembered him, remembered the way you felt about him.

You were welcomed by an opening that held several fainting couches and a nice Victorian rug as the centerpiece.

“This is where our ancestors would rest after their long days, their wife even having these ‘fainting couches’ made so she could loosen her corset.” Namjoon pointed to the layout of the opening before moving down one of the hallways.

The home was large, three separate floors not including the basement or the attic. It was one of the biggest buildings north of Sacramento when built, and it’s legacy continues today. You couldn’t help but be amazed by the history of the manor, hoping that your recorder was capturing each and every detail that both Namjoon and Jin were telling you.

Through the windows on the north corridor you could see the large garden, reds, blues, and purples shining brightly within the sunlight falling onto the property.

“Okay, so I do have some questions that I would like to ask, if that’s okay?” You speak for the first time since the tour began. The boys share another quick glance before Namjoon nods.

“Of course. What tour would this be if there were no questions to be asked.” His words had you calming down a bit.

“Okay. First question. Can you tell me why this manor was nicknamed the ‘Weeping Manor’?” You were still walking as you had your pen pressed to your paper, ready to write down whatever their answer was.

“I think you will actually find the answer within the last room.” Namjoon gestured to Jin who opened the door at the end of the north corridor.

The door opened into a large room, shelves filling the space as you looked towards the right, books with pages spilling out just calling your name as your mouth opened in awe. Right in front of you was a large oak desk, the top of it covered in your books and articles, you could even see some pieces highlighted or underlined as you slowly walked closer.

You felt nervous, the entire atmosphere shifting from joyful and playful to dark and eerie. You turned behind you to question Namjoon or Jin but they were gone. The door now closed and the room’s only light coming from the slightly open shades on the window behind the desk.

Your eyes flittered across the space, looking for the two men who seemingly disappeared into thin air, wanting to leave and be done with the tour. You didn’t like the feelings you were having, the cold air brushing across your skin coming from nowhere.

“Mr. Kim?” You called out, turning back around to the door only to have your eyes catch sight of a large family portrait.

It was a painting of the property, dating back to 1838 when the manor was originally built, even before the town had an official name and place on the map. Seven men resided in the front of the portrait, sitting and standing in a line just in front of the large pine tree that resided to the right of the men.

You moved forward to get a closer look at the portrait when the tiny description just below caught your eye.

“The Kim Coven. Ca. 1838.”

Coven? What did that even mean? Your confusion didn’t end there but grew into shock and something like horror when you finally looked up to the faces within the portrait.

The man standing within the middle of the painting was a spitting image of the man who gave you the tour. The same man who met you at the local diner and exchanged emails back and forth with you.

To his right, and to your even deeper horror, stood Seokjin, eyes almost staring at your shaking from beneath the paint.

You took a step back, your hand covering your mouth in fear as you tried to back away from the painting when you bumped into someone. A whimper leaving your lips as you tried to quiet your sobs.

“Please…please.” You began to beg, knowing you were done for.

“Oh, darling. Please don’t cry.” The man behind you coos, a hand moving up to move your hair away from your neck as a small kiss is pressed to your skin.

“You’re finally home.”

“Taehyung, love, I know you’re excited but you’re scaring our baby.” A voice from your left sounds out, the echo of his voice ringing in your ear as the man’s embrace on your abdomen slowly tightens.

“She seems more scared of Namjoon and Jin right now.” The man holding you hums, his nose pressed to the skin of your neck as you try to stop shaking. You couldn’t stop your tears now, even as you tried to force yourself to breath evenly.

“Please, I promise. I won’t say anything. I’ll never come back. I-I won’t write this article. Please.” You plead with the men, seven in all as they begin to move from behind the same shelves you were in awe of earlier.

You felt lied to, like a lion hoping for a meal only to be met with an audience wanting you to jump. Your brain began to connect the dots, pieces coming together that led to this moment.

“The sudden agreement to a meeting.” You begin to voice your thoughts aloud, receiving a humming in approval from Namjoon, who knew what you were doing.

“The table in the corner of the diner, where you didn’t eat anything.” Another hum, this time from the man who spoke to the man behind you.

“Moving the meeting to today instead of after the weekend. Almost like an urgency.” Jin couldn’t help but to roll his eyes at this one, knowing it was your grandmother’s fault for this point, not theirs.

“You knew my name before I even introduced myself. Recognized me despite not knowing what I looked like.” You looked up from the floor to see Namjoon standing in front of you, his portrait figure looking at you from over his shoulder.

“I—I don’t understand.” You let out, your brain missing some pieces still, unable to fully connect the dots. Your brain couldn’t comprehend the outcome without knowing who they were.

“You always were so smart, Y/n. Even then.” Before you could attempt anything else, your vision blurred again, for the third time that day.

“My love, I don’t understand how you can understand all of this.” His hair flew past his shoulders as he playfully threw your anatomy book from your lap. He instead took its place, his head flopping onto the material of your underdress, a smirk aimed at your affronted gaze.

“My love, why don’t you study my body instead?” A pillow hit his face before he could continue. Laughter bubbling from your lips at his scrunched up features. His hair now all over the place as he turned his gaze back to you.

“Oh, Yoongi. If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.” You leaned down to place your lips on the man’s lips, moving to pull away only for his arms to trap you against him, smiling into your lips.

“Ellie, you are too smart for your own good.”

Your vision returned, this time the men were all stood in front of you, watching your vision return to normal. Your quickly caught sight of the man in your vision, Yoongi, you assumed. You touched your lips as if you could feel his lips, plush against yours.

“Who is Ellie?” Were the only words to leave your lips as sobs started to sound out instead. Their eyes seemed indifferent to your words, despite the sparkle of happiness glittering within.

“You.”

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purpleyoonn · 1 year

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Dance of Time 1

D A N C E O F T I M E

“A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.” -Bukowski

Pairing: Vampire BTS x Human Reincarnated Reader

Status: Ongoing (random updates)

Genre: soulmate au, reincarnation, yandere themes, possessive boys, angst, fluff, poly au, vampire au,

Warnings: smut, violence, tempers, mentions of death, murder, some explicit descriptions of violence, blood,

Chapter Warnings: stalking, small town legends, death, violence, mentions of stabbing and blood, slight yandere behavior,

Masterlist // Chapter 2

Taglist: @psychosupernatural @carolinexkpop @strxwbloody @strawberry-moonpies @dustyinkpages @iamkookiesforyou @anaspectoflife @btsw1fe @yoongisgirl69 @toughbook @yoongibabs

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Insanity

Albert Einstein once said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Following the same routine and believing things would change, would move how you wanted them to.

Through studying history, you found this phenomenon to be accurate. So many events in history could have been prevented if they only looked back and did something different. Followed a different course. Chose a different path.

You were reminded of this every day, as you stared at your research, wondering why nothing was changing in your life. You were coming up on 27, the past six years of your life spent doing research and visiting historical sites. You were a historian, your passion for learning turned into a love for digging deeper into different events.

Your last project saw you crawling through underground tunnels in Edinburgh, writing about the day to day lives of the people living there when they were built. Your specialty, however, was the small-town ghost stories that seemed legend. You loved trying to find facts over rumors with regards to each town’s Boo Radley. And now, it seemed like it was time to discover the truth about your very own Boo Radley.

You had been missing home lately, and had been planning a visit to the small town you had grown up in. You left as soon as you graduated high school, wanting to get away from the people who had made your life mundane, all whilst making something of your life. You had decided, during your trip home, that you would do a story on the Weeping Manor, the large home that stood on the outskirts of your hometown.

It was, according to the older generation, originally a boarding house for miners that would travel to the area. Sometimes railroad workers would stay there, but it was mostly people looking to get rich quick on the gold nuggets found within the area.

Everyone had grown up with the stories, how the original owners had come home to find their lover dead at the bottom of the grand staircase, or how they killed her themselves when she could not choose between them. Your personal favorite, the one your grandmother told you, was that they were demons who had thrown their life away to be with their love, and how the angels had killed her in retaliation.

As a child, your romantic heart had loved the story of forbidden lovers and had requested the tale every night you stayed with your grandmother. She would always smile at you, a twinkle to her eye as she spoke. She would speak with such conviction that you never would have realized the story wasn’t true if you didn’t share tales with the other kids at school.

“All stories hold truth, it’s all about whether you are brave enough to find it or not.” Those were the words she always told you when you confronted her about her “lies”. They are also the words you live by, constantly searching for the truth in every story you hear.

You were currently on a plane home to Sacramento, the nearest airport to your hometown at least two hours north of the bustling state capitol. You were lucky enough to get the window seat, and no one else in your aisle. The empty wine glass sat on the table in front of you, your notebook in hand as you tried to write out everything you knew or could remember about the Weeping Manor. You also tried to plan what your next steps would be.

Primary sources would be on the list first, hoping your town’s library still held any firsthand accounts of when it was a boarding house. Then, you would need to find the current owners of the manor and hope they would allow you to tour the building or see any of their handed down documents that might not be already within the library’s records.

It was a long process to endure, but you loved it. You loved doing research and digging into records. It was like having history underneath your own fingertips. It was an honor for you.

“Miss, can I get you another glass?” You were startled out of your thoughts, turning to the curious stewardess as she glanced at your open notebook.

“Oh uh, no thank you.” You smiled politely, not liking when anyone tried to glance over your shoulder. You closed your notebook before she could question anymore and watched as she nodded and continued down the aisle.

You had about three hours left of your flight, and knew your uncle was probably already at the airport waiting for you. Your uncle was the only family left in the state, everyone moving on and away from the small mountain town.

“Better opportunities” they claimed, as if they never wanted to leave in the first place.

It’s not like you were any different though, but you appreciated your uncle and how he stayed to take care of your grandmother. You helped out whenever you could, sending money for food or heat, or even helping to buy your uncle a new car to better help your grandma get around in.

You uncle was a stout man in his late forties, your dad’s younger brother who loved to joke around and helped you play pranks on your family when you were younger. He was known as the ‘fun uncle’ and raised his two children the same. You loved when you got to spend time with them, but now, your cousins had their own families and lived in separate states. Your uncle visits them twice a year, spending a couple weeks with each child when he can.

He was the man you wish your father could have become, had he not passed when you were a baby. You grew up with your single mother, doing her damned best to take care of and raise you. She worked multiple jobs for as long as you could remember, and always did her best to attend every single one of your school’s award ceremonies.

Exhaustion

That was what the doctor ultimately decided for her cause of death. You had tried to wake her up, thankful she had finally gotten some rest; she wouldn’t wake up.

It took a long time for you to even think about your mom after she passed, instead pushing yourself into your work to make sure your family would be taken care of and would never have to worry about working again. Even now, your family tried to get you to rest, to take a vacation of sorts, but you just couldn’t.

Your aunts and cousins always asked when you would be having your own children, when they would meet your significant other. You just laughed, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. Your grandmother would always just tell you that your fate was written in the stars, mimicking something your mother told you.

You just never realized the old bat knew the truth. That she knew more than she was letting on.

-*-*-

“Get your ass over here and give me a damn hug!” You didn’t hold back a grin as you watched your frail grandma run down her front steps and practically jump into your arms, ignoring her own words.

You squeezed her as tight as you could without hurting her, pouring all your love for her into the small show of affection. She squeezed you back twice as hard, her hands rubbing up and down your back as she got on her tip toes and kissed you on the cheek. You could feel a slap to your back before she pulled away, a grin on her lips.

“You are getting too old. You need to give me some grandbabies.” She offhandedly states, not waiting for a reply as she walks slowly back into the house. You stare at her wide eyed, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth.

You and your uncle look at each other, a laugh bubbling from your throat as he rolls his eyes and mocks her. “I saw that, William!” Her yell sounds from the kitchen, shocking you both and making you move as quickly as you can to grab your bags and go into the house.

You make your way to the room you grew up in, the walls a light shade of purple with the same fairy lights your mother said would make the monsters stay away hung from the bed frame. She gave you those after your father passed away, claiming they would keep you safe.

“I told you that old bat didn’t change anything.” You uncle’s voice came from behind you, moving around you to put your suitcase on the bed for you to deal with later.

“You were always her favorite. The second I moved out she turned my room into a library.” He scoffed, a hidden laugh under his breath. “When your aunt moved out, she threw a party.” That had you laughing, imagining the look on your aunt’s face as she left.

“Yeah, well aunty Laura was always the one that everyone claimed would send grandma into an early grave.” Your aunt Laura was the baby and was about 7 years younger than your uncles, and about twice as rebellious. She now lives in LA and has her own record label, according to your cousin.

“That’s for sure…” He paused, looking around the room until he landed on the stuffed animals in the center of your pillows. “She’s worried about you, you know. She keeps talking about something coming, that you need to be told.” You narrow your eyebrows at his words, wondering what the heck your grandma was so worried about.

“The doctors say she is in the beginning stages of dementia, but she swears up and down she is as sane as God. Don’t know how that is supposed to calm me down.” Your uncle rolls his eyes again, before making a swirling motion above his head, causing a large grin to grow on your lips.

“Anyways, I’ll let you get settled. Mama’s in there cooking up some deer meat Peter brought over.” You nodded, your uncle not wasting another second before leaving your room, closing the door behind him.

You turn back around, not wasting a second before sitting on the middle of your bed and pulling your laptop out of your carry on. Now that you were home, you could start writing your research notes. You grabbed your small, leather notebook out of your bag as well, pulling out your to do list as well as the list of things you remember or already know about the manor.

You had two pages already filled out, mainly just what legends you remember along with facts about the manor, like the address and any known affiliates associated with the upkeep of the “historical landmark”. The first name that popped up was a Jim Kelly, the assistant to the owner of the property, who is the main person everyone goes through with regards to the manor.

According to the emails you’ve been sending back and forth, the building and surrounding property is owned by the Kim family and has been under their possession since it was built. It is inherited by the first-born son in each generation, and his current employer is the most recent owner.

You had been trying for a week now to make an appointment to talk to Mr. Kim, but he seems to be almost unreachable to the public. He handles all business through Mr. Kelly, giving the man almost full control of the property.

Scratching that off your list for now, you decide you are going to go to the library first thing in the morning, see what information or records you could find there. Who knows, maybe Mrs. Shay is still the librarian and will let you into the back room where the closed off records are located.

You sit on your bed thinking and planning until your grandma comes knocking on your door, claiming she’ll have your behind if you don’t come and eat dinner right now. Which leads you to where you are now, sitting across from your grandma as you ask her about the legends again.

“Why do you want to hear that story again? You haven’t wanted to hear it in years.” She had her eyes narrowed, your lips turned down as she watches your face, looking for any tell you could give.

“Please grandma. I—” You close your eyes as you are interrupted, your grandmother apparently not done with her scolding.

“Don’t give me that. You haven’t been having any dreams, have you? Don’t you lie to me Y/n.” Your brows knitted in confusion, wondering what she meant by having dreams.

Your grandma froze, your uncle bringing his head to rest in the palms of his hands, a small groan leaving his lips. A slap from your grandma has him straightening, moving to grab your plates and bring them into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember much about that house. Just that it still exists and that the building is getting slowly renovated.” With that, you watch your grandma stalk back to her room down the hallway, slamming her door as she closes it.

“Did I ask something wrong?” You ask yourself, not knowing what made your grandma so upset that she walked away and slammed her door. She’s never done that, not even when your aunt Laura lived at home. Moving to get up, you are stopped by a hand on your shoulder, your uncle looking at you with a glint of worry and…something else in his eye.

“Sit.” You nod, sitting back down as he moves to sit in the seat your grandma was previously occupying.

“Listen, I don’t know what is truth and what is fiction.” Your uncle started, looking even more worn down than when his youngest moved out of the home.

“Stories about Weepin’ have been goin’ around longer than even mama’s been around. The most common legend is the one mama’ told us and you guys when we were all younger.” You nod, remembering the time you and your cousins all sat around grandma as she sat in her chair and captured our attention with the stories.

“Apparently, seven men moved down here during the miner movement, and fell in love with one of the town’s few single women. A nurse who worked in the tents helping injuries that came from the mines. It was love at first sight, some even called them soulmates. However, not everyone minded. A lot of the men were jealous and the few other women were envious of her for nabbing the seven men.” You don’t remember this from grandma’s story and wonder where he heard this part.

“A couple months into the relationship, the men struck gold, literally, even helping to build most of the older buildings in town. They built Weepin’ Manor with her in mind, tons of rooms and even a library. During this time, unfortunately, a lot of bodies were turning up, some saying drained of blood, others saying their bodies were torn apart. No one really knows. But the blame was put on the seven men.”

“People claimed they were working with the devil, Demons come to take advantage of the sin of gold. Tales of screams heard from inside the manor. Well, one day, someone claimed they saw one of the men feeding from a traveler in the woods behind the mine’s entrance. The town grew outraged,” Your eyes were wide as you listened to the story your uncle was telling. He seemed serious as he spoke, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you.

“When the men left town for the day, some of the townsmen stormed the manor, not thinking they would have left their woman behind. When they returned, she was found dead, her throat slit and her stomach stabbed through into the mattress. The found her with the knife still lodged in her abdomen.” You moved your hand to cover your mouth in shock, hearing this version for the first time. You couldn’t believe the whole town would turn against this family like that. That they could kill one of their own so violently just for being there.

It made you unbelievably angry.

“The seven men were so distraught, they are said to have burnt the entire town to the ground, the only buildings left somewhat unscathed were the library and the old apothecary, buildings which their lover helped build. After the town was burnt, the men are said to have killed themselves, unable to take the grief of their loss.” You take notes in your mind, trying everything you could to remember the entirety of the story, swearing to yourself you would write it down as soon as you got to your notebook.

“It was dubbed Weepin’ manor by the locals around 1880, some…. Forty years after the town was rebuilt. Folks said they heard people crying in there, even claimed they saw the spirits of the men. But nothing was ever proven.” Your uncle stopped, looking at you with something you didn’t recognize… guilt maybe? It was completely unlike him, so out of character you were becoming increasingly worried.

Before you could ask if he was alright, your uncle was shooting up and out of his seat, exclaiming that he was beat and he was going to bed. He came over and kissed your forehead, before walking down the same hallway your grandmother’s room is on.

Your head was hurting, everything happening so quickly you were now in the dining room alone, stuck with your thoughts. You had never heard that version of the legends before, and with the way your uncle was talking, it seemed as if he knew the truth. Like he actually believed in what he was telling you.

Getting up from your seat, you slowly made your way to your room, despite the urgency you felt, and opened your notebook again to write down everything your uncle told you. It took you over an hour, making sure you wrote down every single detail, no matter how important it seemed. It took over 12 pages in your notebook, and a couple things underlined to look for in the records tomorrow.

You spent the entire night going over the story, trying to pick out anything that seemed off, or didn’t match the research you had already done prior to coming home. Something about the story was pulling at your insides, like it wasn’t the entire story. You could feel your heart clawing at your chest, the pain making you pause in your thoughts.

It was like something was stabbing you, the pain making its way into your back and having you bite your tongue to prevent crying out and possibly waking your family.

You were frantic in trying to close the curtains, praying to the gods that they would leave your family alone. You had done everything you could, helped so many of your neighbors. You tried to move forward to the staircase, but the corner of the door caught the bottom of your dress, making you pause to remove the cloth.

“Come now, Ellie. You will be safe if you come with us.” You heard the mayor, Michael, say through the front door. Your movements became even more frantic, choosing to rip the cloth instead of trying to fight the door.

You raced up the steps and into the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind you right as you heard the front door being broken down. Yelling tore through the bottom floor, glasses being smashed, a particular vase you loved, as it was a gift from…being thrown to the ground, causing a sob to leave your lips.

“Ellie darling. They can’t mind control you any longer.” The footsteps moved up the stairs as you hid under the bed, hand over your mouth to she couldn’t hear you cry. A whimper tore through your lips as the door was thrown open, a laugh sounding throughout the room.

The pain in your chest was gone, your heart beating fast as you tried to breathe through the onslaught of tears. You were overcome with emotions: fear, pain, agony, and love. Like they were your own emotions, but you had no reason to feel this way. The… vision you had was just that, a vision. You were probably so sleep deprived that you had a hallucination of some sort.

The only thing that was weird was that it was like you were there, experiencing everything as if it was going on now. You could still hear the echoes of the things smashing from below you. Could hear the laughter of that man in your ears as the fear filled your lungs. Ellie. You wonder if it was short for something, maybe Elizabeth?

Another note made in your notebook, writing down the description of your hallucination. Another 5 pages written down. You felt that your hallucination was somehow connected to the manor, even if it didn’t make any sense.

Deciding it was a good time to sleep, you put your notebook down. You didn’t want another lifelike hallucination, and if sleeping kept them away, you would sleep. You took your suitcase and bag off your bed, placing them at the edge, and climbed under your covers, before turning your bedside lamp off and trying to sleep.

-*-*-

“She’s finally back.” The man spoke, his body stood in the trees behind the small house. His view was of your sleeping body, rested against your pillows and the stuffed animal he sent your mother when you were little.

A smile was rested on his lips as he watched you sleep; his protective instincts finally being soothed after having you in his sights after so long.

“I was surprised when Jimmy told us she had messaged him, asking about the manor. I wonder if the dreams have started back up again?” The first man turned his head, smirking at the younger who approached from behind, intertwining their hands together.

“They don’t seem to be dreams this time around. She thinks she is hallucinating.” A click to his tongue sounds out as you shift in your sleep, clutching at the teddy bear making his undead heart warm.

“Joon says he is going to have Jimmy email her tomorrow about a meeting. He doesn’t want to waste any time in having her again. That old bat already kept her from us once, he doesn’t want it to happen again.” The older man quirks his head, listening to the bitter tone his younger mate held. The contempt for the old women palpable as he looks at his mate.

“We won’t have to worry about her, or him this time. They know what will happen if she is kept from us again.” Both men’s eyes flash red, their reflection against your window showing the veins creeping up their eyes at the remembrance of you leaving town the first time.

“She won’t be able to hide from us again.” Turning around and back into the tree line, the younger steals once last glance at your sleeping form before letting himself be dragged into the trees, food being the only thing on his mind once again as he let the feeling of the hunt take over once more.

Next Chapter

#bts #bts au #bts vampire #bts vampire au #bts slight yandere #historian mc #reincarnated mc #bts reincarnation #bts historical au #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly!au #bts poly au #bts poly!#bts x reader #poly!bts x reader #vampiretan sonyeondan #dance of time #purpleyoonn

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purpleyoonn · 1 year

Text

Dance of Time

P R E V I E W

“A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.” -Bukowski

Pairing: Vampire BTS x Human Reincarnated Reader

Status: Coming Soon

Genre: soulmate au, reincarnation, yandere themes, possessive boys, angst, fluff,

Warnings: smut, violence, tempers, mentions of death, murder, some explicit descriptions of violence, blood,

Some warnings may be added to the beginning of individual chapters.

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“Okay, so I do have some questions that I would like to ask, if that’s okay?” You speak for the first time since the tour began. The boys share another quick glance before Namjoon nods.

“Of course. What tour would this be if there were no questions to be asked.” His words had you calming down a bit.

“I think you will actually find the answer within the last room.” Namjoon gestured to Jin who opened the door at the end of the north corridor.

The door opened into a large room, shelves filling the space as you looked towards the right, books with pages spilling out just calling your name as your mouth opened in awe.

Right in front of you was a large oak desk, the top of it covered in your books and articles, you could even see some pieces highlighted or underlined as you slowly walked closer.

“Mr. Kim?” You called out, turning back around to the door only to have your eyes catch sight of a large family portrait.

You moved forward to get a closer look at the portrait when the tiny description just below caught your eye.

“The Kim Coven. Ca. 1838.”

Coven? What did that even mean? Your confusion didn’t end there but grew into shock and something like horror when you finally looked up to the faces within the portrait.

The man standing within the middle of the painting was a spitting image of the man who gave you the tour. The same man who met you at the local diner and exchanged emails back and forth with you.

To his right, and to your even deeper horror, stood Seokjin, eyes almost staring at your shaking from beneath the paint.

You took a step back, your hand covering your mouth in fear as you tried to back away from the painting when you bumped into someone. A whimper leaving your lips as you tried to quiet your sobs.

“Please…please.” You began to beg, knowing you were done for.

“Oh, darling. Please don’t cry.” The man behind you coos, a hand moving up to move your hair away from your neck as a small kiss is pressed to your skin.

“You’re finally home.”

#bts #bts au #vampiretan sonyeondan #bts vampire #bts vampire au #bts reincarnation #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #vampire bts #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly!au #bts poly au #bts poly!#kidnapping #historian mc #reincarnated mc #slight yandere bts #possessive bts

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purpleyoonn · 1 year

Text

Dance of Time 2

D A N C E O F T I M E

“A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.” -Bukowski

Pairing: Vampire BTS x Human Reincarnated Reader

Status: Ongoing (random updates)

Genre: soulmate au, reincarnation, yandere themes, possessive boys, angst, fluff,

Warnings: smut, violence, tempers, mentions of death, murder, some explicit descriptions of violence, blood,

Chapter Warnings: flashback scenes, fingering, slight smut, teasing, possessive bangtan, yandere bangtan, awkward family dinners, jin takes charge,

Masterlist // Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

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Previously on Dance of Time:

You had just left the house for the library, wanting to get an early start on your research. You had barely slept an hour, couldn’t rest with the feeling of someone watching you. Instead, you spent some time going through photos, particularly the photo album your mom had put together when you were in elementary school.

It held old photos, grade school pictures, even artwork you completed in class and your mother put up on the fridge for everyone to see. She had little notes associated with each piece, something you said or what she thought of the piece. It had you smiling as you ran your fingers over her handwriting.

The library was one of the oldest buildings in town, the old worn-down brick was dark, tainted with time and memories. It was one of your favorite places growing up, your mom taking you there quite often after school, and sometimes even during school when you were having a bad day. It was your happy place, where your imagination wasn’t shot down or stifled. Where you could read about far off kingdoms and magic wielders.

The door was already opened, allowing you to enter and come face to face with Mrs. Shay, the very women who helped build your love for reading. Your footsteps alerted her to your presence, and when she looked up, the biggest smile grew on her lips as she began to move out from behind the front desk. Her arms were held out, waiting for you to move in, wrapping your own arms around her.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little darling who used to run my library rampant!” She exclaimed, squeezing you tight once more before pulling back, placing her hands on your shoulders to get a better look at you.

“Hey now! I was such a good kid!” You retorted back, not even fighting the grin that made its way on your face. Mrs. Shay just scrunched her nose at you, shaking her head at your expression.

“You haven’t changed, have you darlin’?” With your grin still on your lips, you shake your head, only for her to slap you on the arm.

“Okay darlin’, what can I do for you? I know you didn’t come back just to say hi to little ole me.” Your grin turned sheepish, confirming her thoughts.

“Actually, while I do love and miss you, I had some research I wanted to do, and was wondering if you would allow me access into the town’s archives.” You bat your eyelashes at the women you grew up admiring, hoping she would take the bait and allow you access. Your stare down lasted for a few moments, ending with Mrs. Shay letting out a long, dramatic sigh and grabbing her keys from the drawer.

“You’re a life saver Mrs. Shay!” You exclaim, getting excited as you watch her put her key in the door to the archives, jumping a little in your boots as she twists her hand and pushes the door open.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just remember to put everything back when you’re done. I don’t need the town council on my back.” She wavers her hand at you before closing the door behind her, leaving you alone in a room with hundreds if not a thousand primary documents of the history of the town.

The room seemed to be a storage room converted into the archives, wall to wall bookshelves filled with a mixture of boxes, books, and other artifacts. They were sorted by date or event, which led you to the pre-civil-war section. There wasn’t much, just a box of property line records and a small book of death and birth records.

You pulled the box off the shelf only to have a leather notebook fall onto the floor, having been hidden halfway behind the box. You turned around, placing the box on the small table in the middle of the room and moved back so you could pick the notebook up. It was old, and tied together with a leather strip.

Curiously, you sat in the chair at the table, and moved to open the notebook when your phone rang, the ringtone signaling an email notification sounded. Placing the notebook down, you grabbed your laptop from your backpack and opened it up to see an email from Mr. Kelly. His employer wanted to have lunch with you to go over any questions you had.

You were a little suspicious, as suddenly he was in town and had time to meet with you when others have been trying for years to do the same. But you were excited all the same. You would be getting your questions answered and your research would be furthered.

The time in the email stated to meet Mr. Kim at 12 o’clock at the diner, meaning you had just enough time to take pictures of everything before you could leave. Once you spent a couple hours grueling over every piece of paper, you placed everything back in the box and put it back on the correct spot on the shelf.

Your mind kept going back to the notebook, intrigue not even covering the emotions you felt as you looked down at it. Making a quick second decision, you snatch the notebook up and place it in your backpack, inside the sweatshirt you brought just in case, hoping that would keep it safe.

You felt attached to the damned thing, like you recognized it, in a way. Like you had seen it before. It was a weird feeling, but it kept you from putting it back onto the shelf. You were too curious to its contents anyways. Why would someone hide it behind a box anyways?

How many secrets were concealed within the old, leather notebook?

You couldn’t concentrate on anything you were writing, two of your lovers giggling behind you as they laid in the bed you just left. You were trying to write down your thoughts, something you always did, and no one, not even your loves were going to get in the way.

“Beth, my beloved, please come back. You know I get cold when you leave.” Arms wrap around your waist, their plump lips kissing from the nape of your neck to their mark, just inside the crevice where your shoulder meets your neck.

“You are always cold, my love. The covers will keep you warm.” You gently assure your mate, who starts to whine into your neck. His hands start to wander, pulling up the end of your nightgown so he could have easier access to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to bed, beloved?” His voice switches tone quickly, a smirk to his lips as he sucks onto your mark, the moan leaving your lips immediately, as it always does when they touch your mark.

His fingers move to your core, feeling how wet you already were as he pushed one finger inside, just barely enough for you to whimper once he retreats.

You scoff as he moves back to the bed, hating the teasing they always do to you. Closing your notebook, promising yourself you would come back to it, you climb back onto the bed, pulling back the blankets just enough for both of your loves cocks to become uncovered. Reaching forward, you go to move in between their bodies when he grabs you and brings you up to the headboard, your hands grasping for balance as a tongue enters you just as quick.

You steady yourself against the table, your knees almost giving out on you as a whimper leaves your lips. You could practically still feel their tongue in you, your pussy wet and making you wince at the feeling. You could almost feel your leggings becoming stained.

If it was a hallucination, you wouldn’t be feeling this way. But it felt so real. The men in your dream felt real, their touch on you. You didn’t recognize them, not their voices or their faces. But your body seemed to remember them.

You fought against yourself as you stood full height, lugging your backpack back onto your shoulders and pushed yourself out of the room, hoping and praying that your leggings weren’t see through right now. Your watch said it was 11:30, and you didn’t want to be late for your meeting with Mr. Kim.

You said your goodbyes and promises of return to Mrs. Shay and left for the appointment. Despite in your most basic leggings, the ones with pockets because you liked pockets, and an oversized flannel covering your “history is a mystery” t-shirt, you made your way to the diner, leaving your backpack in your trunk as you got to the parking lot. You know you should have made more time to change, but it seemed like time passed by unusually fast when you were sucked into a hallucination.

Pushing open the door to the diner, you were met by someone you went to high school with, her smile dropping a little before becoming grander than before, her fake politeness kicking in.

“Welcome back to town! Table for one?” She asks you, her voice pitched high and making you flinch a tiny bit with the pain now ringing in your ears. You glance back at your watch to see it glowing 12:03.

“Um no. I am actually meeting someone. I don’t know if he has arrived yet or not. Mr. Kim?” You pitch your voice up towards the end, out of nerves and so she knew you were asking her a question. She quirks her eye at you but nonetheless grabs a menu for you and walks to the right, you move quickly to follow her.

She leads you to the back of the restaurant, the table located in the corner and where someone was already sitting. He was dressed impeccably, a tailored suit and slicked back hair making you become self-conscious of what you were wearing.

He had sharp features, and his eyes reminded you of a dragon’s, always watching and perceiving any threat of danger. He seemed to take a deep breath when you and Tiffany started to approach, his eyes shooting straight up to stare into your own.

You had to hold back a gasp, his stare intense and filled with emotion. He looked at you like he would rather perish than look anywhere else. Even as you approached and Tiffany placed your menu on the table, bumping back into you as she walked past, his eyes were still on you. You looked away, moving to sit in the booth, a little uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

A small cough had you looking up, though, a small smile now resting on his lips. You bite the inside of your cheek, a little nervous to be in this man’s presence. He radiated power and authority, but emotion seemed to flow through him like a fountain, radiating his thoughts into your chalice.

“Hello. My name is Namjoon. I am the current owner of the Weeping Manor. Are you Y/n?” Even his voice was attractive, goddamn. It was deep and low and had you feeling all kinds of tingles in your nether regions.

“Yes, I am. It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Kim.”

“Please. Call me Namjoon. I feel like with the way my assistant was talking, we will become well acquainted soon enough.” You let out a little nervous laugh, the feeling in your core becoming unavoidable now.

“Well, Namjoon, I am grateful that you agreed to meet me on such short notice.” Short notice your ass, you had been trying for weeks since you decided to come home. “I am a historian and am currently working on a piece of the town, writing about the myths and legends, and seeking out the truths behind them. The biggest legend being the ones associated with manor itself. Would it be okay if I asked you a couple of questions?” You asked, your voice filled with hope as you sat across from the slightly intimidating but extremely attractive man.

Namjoon couldn’t help himself but to fall even deeper for you, your personality different than that of his Beth, but entirely the same as well. He had been waiting years to be in your presence again, and he was going to make it worthwhile.

He knew that he and his mates were growing impatient, the past nine years with you having been stolen from then. Your grandmother was supposed to tell you everything, was supposed to bring you to them, and now she doesn’t have a choice but to watch you be with them. To lose you to their bond.

There was nothing more Namjoon, or any of his clan, wanted to do than hold you in their arms, listening to the sound of your breathing, feel the rhythm of your heartbeat against their skin. You were alive, and theirs once more, and nothing would get in their way of having you.

“Of course, I’ll try my best to answer any questions you have.”

-*-*-

You were completely entranced with Namjoon. You couldn’t stop blushing at his jokes and giggling like a little schoolgirl at any joke he told. You were acting like a fool with a crush, something your momma would have slapped you over the head for. You were in a ditch, having fallen very quick for his charm.

“The renovations on the manor should be completed by this weekend, you could come by for a tour if you would like? I’m sure you could learn a lot more inside the manor instead of reading about it.” Namjoon’s words brought you out of your thoughts on his hands, your mind imagining them on you, helping you in more ways than one.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or ruin anything.” You begin to deny, not wanting to be pushy and show how badly you would like to tour the manor.

“You won’t ruin anything.” His tone suddenly became clipped, harsh, as he spoke. It scared you a little and had you drawing back from your spot resting against the table.

“I promise, you won’t ruin anything and that it’s completely fine. In fact, I think my partner might be available to join us. He knows more about the history of the manor than I do, to be honest.” His tone quickly returned to being sweet as he watched you put your notebook and pen back into your bag.

Your phone dings, with a message from your grandma appearing on your watch. Dinner was ready. You hadn’t even realized how long you had been sitting and talking with Namjoon that your grandma was already asking you when you would be home for dinner.

“I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cut this meeting short. My grandma is requesting that I be home for dinner. Can’t say no to her.” Your lips upturn at the end, a little smile as you think of your grandma, probably standing at the door waiting for you with her hands on her hips.

Namjoon rolled his eyes when you looked away. Of course, the old bat couldn’t wait. She had to take you away from him. He barely had you and you were already gone, rushing out the doors of the diner after he gave you the reluctant okay to leave. If he didn’t want you to hate him, despite the bond working in his favor, he would have taken you the second you walked out of your car. But he had to play the waiting game. Get you to trust him.

He could tell you were already having the visions, could feel the confusion in the air as he smelled your sweet arousal. He wondered what you saw, what you felt as you were sent back. Wondered who was in your visions. It wasn’t him, as you had no recollection on your face upon seeing him. He hoped it wasn’t Jin, as he would be accompanying you two this weekend when you come to tour.

He would take initiative, like always, and send you an email with details about the tour, not giving you an option. He needed you to be there, to visit your old bedroom and library. He needed for you to understand that their bond with you transcends lifetimes, transcends even the space forced between you.

It was pure luck you would descend from the same family that their first mate, Elisabeth, would descend from. Your ancestor, Victoria, being their mate’s younger sister. They had been watching your family line for years, protecting you for their mate’s sake. And when you were born, they all got the feeling of warmth in their chest, the same feeling they got when Elisabeth was born.

It didn’t take long to find you; the small towns hospital only having a single floor. They were quick to recognize your father, having watched him grow up. Seeing the seven men outside his wife’s hospital room, your father knew. Forbid them from seeing you. But nothing would stop them.

Small gifts would appear on their front porch, things you or your mom would need until you grew old enough. Your school was always paid for, anything you reached for in a store would appear the next morning in your room. Your mother grew scared and worried, thinking someone had been stalking them.

When your family finally told her the truth, she thought they were crazy, tried to run with you. But she didn’t even make it past the county’s borders when she was stopped by your mates. Promises of protection and threats of pain encompassing their words if your mother was to ever take you away from them.

She refused their “gifts” but knew that they wouldn’t stop. So, she decided she would be the only one to ever take care of your needs, especially after your father passed away. She didn’t want you to rely on them in any way.

She started to hide their gifts, burn the ones she could when she had the chance. She took on multiple jobs, even going back to night school for nursing so she would be able to provide for you. Your mother thought that if she had accepted those gifts for you, it meant that she was promising you to them, it meant that she was accepting the fact that you were theirs.

By the time you turned ten, the gifts had stopped showing up. She thought that meant they had given up, that they had stepped back. But they didn’t. They had decided that they would wait until you were of age, renovate the manor in the meantime. Make it safer for you.

They had waited more than a decade for you, and all be damned if anyone got in their way.

-*-*-

Dinner was a little awkward again, this time you think you’re the only one who feels it. You keep moving around in your seat, adjusting your position as you listen to your grandma and uncle chat about what they did today. Your grandma had worked in the front garden and your uncle facetimed your cousins, his phone gallery full of screenshots from talking to his grandkids.

You wanted to bring up your tour appointment of the manor with them, excitement building in your chest, but you don’t want a redo of dinner yesterday, having your grandma storm out and your uncle left to deal with the aftermath. You planned to keep quiet until your grandmother asked if you had any plans for the weekend.

“Um actually, I was invited by the owners of the manor to tour it this weekend.” Your words had both of your relatives freezing in their places, your uncle even having food fall into his lap from where it was on his fork.

“Oh, well this weekend I was going to ask if you would be able to help me pull some weeds out of the garden. There is a bunch of them and I am afraid my plants will suffer their fate. Your uncle has already explained he will be going to visit Katharine and will be gone this weekend.” Katharine is your cousin who lives in Colorado, having moved there with her husband a couple years back.

You were a little surprised, as he hadn’t mentioned anything to you, but you also couldn’t say no to your grandmother, especially with the pleading look she had on her face. This garden is something she has been working on since she married your grandfather. It was her pride and joy and held many different flowers and herbs.

Your favorite was this little purple flower that grew in patches at the very edge of the garden and continued to grow on the fence surrounding your property. It almost reminded you of lavender, the purple plants have similar shapes, but the smell was different. You remember asking your grandmother what they were once, but she said she didn’t remember the name, only that they were meant to protect you.

“Okay, I’ll let Mr. Kim know that I need to reschedule to a later date.” You acquiesce your stance, trying not to fight again and choosing to listen to your grandmother. The smile on her face means everything and helps you to feel like you were doing the right thing, choosing to spend this time with her doing something she loves.

You told yourself that this would probably be the last time you were able to spend time with her like this, knowing she was getting up there in age and each note from the doctor seemed to be getting worse.

“Thank you, baby. I’m excited to show you all the new things I’ve planted in my garden since your last visit!” You nod before taking your empty plate to the kitchen sink, washing and drying it before making your way back to your room so you can email Mr. Kim.

Dear Mr. Kim,

I apologize but I will be unable to attend the planned tour this weekend. I am also in town to visit with my grandmother and she has requested my help with something this weekend. I know that your time is valuable, and I appreciate your willingness to let me tour your home. Is it possible to reschedule to another time convenient for you?

Historian with Song International Archives,

Y/n Jacquess

Namjoon was furious when he received your email. He had hoped your grandmother had learned to mind her business and not to interfere in bonded affairs, but it seems he had overestimated her.

“This damned women! We should have taken her out of the picture years ago!” He roared out, throwing all of the papers off his desk as Jimin and Hoseok rushed in, immediately moving to try and soothe their mate.

“She is trying to interfere again then, hmm?” Jin murmurs from the door, closing his eyes as he tries to think of a solution.

“Have her come tomorrow. I can move my schedule around. Once we have her, as per agreement, they can’t do anything.” Jin’s words are commanded, not stated as he stands tall. He is done with the unsufferable humans messing with things they know not of.

“Our mate will be ours tomorrow. If Eden didn’t meddle, she would have had more time with her granddaughter. But this shall be her doing.” By the time he finished speaking, the entire coven was in the room, Yoongi and Taehyung with their lips freshly coated in blood.

Namjoon steels his demeanor, moving to quickly email you back the terms of the rescheduled tour. He is going to make it seem like the only time he has available will be tomorrow at nine o’clock, that way he has a good time with the tour, able to show you everything with pride, before they reveal themselves to you. It was perfect.

Ms. Jacquess,

I would be delighted to reschedule our tour. However, the only time I have available is tomorrow morning at nine o’clock am. I hope this is alright with you.

Yours truly,

Kim Namjoon

You were surprised at how quickly he responded back, but a little flabbergasted by the quick timeframe you had to work with. You were free tomorrow but wondered if you would have time to put everything together before tomorrow morning. You needed to gather your notebooks, your voice recorder, your pens and highlighters for notes, and your camera; it was a lot. But you knew it was worth it if you would be able to get an inside look at the infamous Weeping Manor.

Mr. Kim,

That would work wonderfully for me. Thank you so much for switching the time of the tour for me. I am truly grateful. Should I meet you at the manor?

Historian with Song International Archives,

Y/n Jacquess

Ms. Jacquess,

Then I shall pen you into my schedule. I will pick you up at nine o’clock.

Yours truly,

Mr. Kim

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