Chapter Text
It was a large-scale event, one of the biggest of the calendar year. Potential suitors from across the Western region all flocking in a desperate attempt to court two of the richest Heiresses in the entire Kingdom, Hyeyoung and Hermia Hwang. It was the first time the Hwang’s had openly sought out suitors for their daughters, their family dwindling for decades and generally keeping to themselves apart from official events.
The news spread quickly, and the town centre was flocking with people, all setting up carts, promoting the farce of an event like their livelihoods depended on it. There were banners and bunting of the Hwang Clutch emblem hanging across the town hall, and the townspeople were organising a large-scale celebration of the event into the early morning.
As Changbin wandered through the commotion, he could smell the elderberry and the deep, wooden smell of the rum and sloe gins being produced in bulk for the occasion, the air humming with people and two or three women all singing, accompanied by the horrific sound of a pan flute.
Changbin didn’t care about royalty, he was modern, in that sense. For Seo Changbin, it was simply the chance to steal some trinkets and get his money’s worth after trudging to this cesspit of a town for the occasion.
He was a master at his trade, a thief of thieves.
Living in the world as a Renascent was one thing, but it was certainly better than living as a human, which was incidentally, a death wish, especially for a Clutch like the Hwang.
Changbin referred to himself as a ‘human-passing vampire’, and his own skills were honed to a degree in which he could trick even the truest of bloods that he was born as a bloodsucker. He was just human enough to win the hearts of the lowly, but just vampire enough to be able to take what he needed without detection. It was the perfect rouse; one that he’d grown to appreciate throughout his self-proclaimed ‘career’ as a professional tyrant.
He wandered through the town square, roughly a day’s walk away from his last resting place, watching all the humans selling their meats, various animals as well as a few human legs turning on a spit. There were some particularly fresh-looking femurs being boiled into a frothy stew only a few feet away from him, which he considered for a moment, before realising it would definitely give him away.
Humans and vampires had a peculiar kind of relationship, it was usually a case of humans keeping to themselves, and those who crossed a vampire would end up on the other side of, said spit. The humans kept celebrating the royal families, and they lived relatively harmoniously until some kind of vigilante would come around and risk their progress. Things would happen, people would die, and then they’d truce, like clockwork.
Regardless, times had changed recently, and humans were now even allowed to nominate criminals for royal feasts rather than being picked at random. It saved the vampire-human relationship, somewhat, but it didn’t stop them being terrified to cross one in a dark alley.
Dark alleys were Changbin’s favourite.
“Excuse me, Miss? How much for this… Is it, lung? Or pancreas?” Changbin asked, “it’s for my Master, he has a hankering only for enzyme-producing organs,” he said graciously, smiling at the young, pretty girl behind the cart in the white dress, sinched at the waist, jingling with bangles.
She blushed at his sudden appearance, the way his white poet shirt clung to his arm muscles in the hot summer sun, the deep V-neck exposing some of his chest. Luckily for Changbin, being a Renascent meant the sun wasn’t particularly an issue for him, but he did sweat considerably more than the average ‘human’.
“Of course, Sir. I will fetch my mother and see what we might have at the back, if you would like?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, tantalisingly leaning across the wooden cart in a way that Changbin only assumed she thought would accentuate her near enough non-existent bosom.
He leaned in towards her too, repressing his irises to appear as human as possible, placing his finger gently under her chin as he smirked.
“If you wouldn’t mind. I’m sure if your mother is as lovely as you, she could find me something appropriate,” he responded, before she was exhaling giddily and promising to find him what it was, he was looking for.
What he was actually looking for, was the loosely hanging steel-set, red garnet-embellished necklace from around her neck, which he’d stolen from her as he stared into her eyes, before making his swift exit towards Upper Street.
Pancreas tasted like shit, anyway.
~♚~
He knew this castle; he’d managed to pertain an intricately hand-penned map of the sewerage system from below from a weary traveller a few years back. He knew it would come in handy for an occasion like this.
He’d memorised all the cellar openings, the disposal units, the dungeons, even through to the secret passages throughout the well-kept, red rose-filled gardens.
He looked up, the castle was one of the largest limestone builds in their land, owned by the same family for thousands of years, as the Hwang Clutch was one of the oldest formations of traditional Truebloods that actually still existed. The Keep was nearing forty foot high, and Changbin noted the Archers sitting pretty in the arrow slits, ready to warn off any unwanted visitors, and the rather fetching six-foot crossbow that adorned the top of the castle.
A charming addition, he thought.
He slunk through the front of the grounds, most of the area was opened to the public, and more stalls adorned the front of the clearing, children running around in the forecourt amongst the freshly cut grass playing ‘vampire hunter’. The portcullis wasn’t drawn, so there was no way in through the entrance of the castle until event time, so Changbin obviously had to improvise.
He was wearing a dainty, custom suit crafted from the finest, light purple, silk brocade imported from Europe. He’d paired it with black slacks and leather boots; all of which he’d expertly stolen from a tailor; a nice man, who was now lying hog-tied, naked, in the window display of his own shop with a pair of women’s underwear stuffed in his mouth.
Changbin slunk through the hordes of people, it was nearing 5:40pm, and the event was due to start at 7:00pm, giving him enough time to scout the grounds out. He wandered around behind to where four or so armed guards were lulling around, weapons cocked, but just casual enough that Changbin didn’t particularly think they were paying too much attention.
He slipped through behind a rather large mount, a barren looking ten-or-so foot watchtower that probably hadn’t been utilised since the war, wandering around it a few times to find what he was looking for.
A firing shelter, buried deeply away under a few years of rotting hardwood and perennial grasses. He looked around, before leaning down and heaving it open with all his strength, and slipping through into a cavern just under the tower, held together by iron-cast beams and stone walls.
Following the maps instructions through a barrage of hundred-year-old dust and four rather aggressive water rats, he wandered through to another opening, which veered off in two directions under the Keep.
He took ‘hallway 16’, creeping undetected through the long, winding corridors, until he came to another door, marked ‘A’ – his first door physically into the living quarters of the castle.
It was make or break, and he had no idea what, or who could be lurking behind the door, so he did the only thing he thought might work – opened it in one foul swoop, not particularly thinking of the consequences of his actions, as per usual…
Luckily, there was no one around, and he just seemed to be in another basement-type room that was filled with a copper spinning wheel and some patchwork canvasses stacked up against the walls.
There was a coffin in there, too, but he tried not to dwell on it too much.
He made his way through ‘Corridor 23’, as it was penned on the map; a cold, mothball-smelling hallway doused in painted portraiture of the Hwangs of the Past, adding just a lilac and mauve splash of colour to the otherwise drab room. There were cracked busts and coats of armour that looked badly damaged, all poorly displayed in glass protection that were inches thick with dust and spiderwebs.
He heard the muffled sound of people talking from ‘Entrance Room 3’ and decided to dart into a small clearing under one of the stone staircases, hiding out. He spotted a particularly expensive looking triptych amulet with a dark-purple topaz mounted on the wall next to a deer’s head, making a small note of it on the map.
He’d come back for it, later.
Considering the extent of how important the night was, Changbin was surprised at the particular lack of guards around the corridors, but put it down to most of the staffing being in the main hall, setting up for the event.
He finally found the first kitchen, filled with human cooks with metal anklets, ferociously stirring their vats. Steaming flesh from bone, brewing concoctions of dried bloods to make into puddings, gagging over the remains of their own kind. It was almost sad, but Changbin didn’t honestly care all that much, way too focused on his work.
He couldn’t risk alerting them to his presence, so he waited it out a little until they were summoned to officially plate the feast up, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the other royal families. He figured he had about two minutes before they came back for the other dishes, and slipped through. The kitchen was colossal, a nightmare of black marble and the smell of flesh wafting through the place making his salivary glands work into overdrive.
He wandered through to what he believed to be marked as ‘The Pantry’, carefully unlatching the door, only to be presented with a large-scale, freezing cold room with around fifteen lifeless human corpses, dangling from their feet from a rack. He stared at a few of them, all of their faces contorted in fear, like they weren’t expecting their untimely demise.
In the Hwang’s’ defence, humans tasted considerably better when they were scared, it made their blood thicker, but it was still a pretty gruesome sight, even for a pseudo-vampire. He only needed to feast around once every two weeks, meaning that the rest of the time, he could stomach human food if necessary.
He wandered back around, through the grand halls, careful with his footing. He wouldn’t steal anything here, no matter how much he wanted to. This was simply a scout out, to decipher which parts of the castle would be more prosperous whilst the guests enjoyed the frivolities of the feast.
He’d return later, when it was darker, to take whatever he needed.
He came to another set of stone steps, and the upholsteries against the wall were beginning to change from regular stonework, to rich, textiled wall hangings, more intricate copper-woven designs on each oil-burner mounted on every other corner. The hall was even colder, and Changbin would be able to see his own breath if he were fully human. Even the smell of the place was different, smelling like a rich, woody scent dispersed with honeydew and cinnamon.
He assumed he was coming into the more affluent part of the castle, potentially even bedroom quarters belonging to the heiresses themselves; the treasure troves he had been looking for.
He made his way carefully up the steps, stopping to hold his breath every time he saw a shadow nearly cross his path. It was quiet, strangely so, until he finally came to what he assumed was, one of the girls’ rooms.
He scouted it out for a while, making a mental note of where her jewellery was, and one particular revolver that she had in a small trinket box beneath her bedside table, which was embellished with a true blood diamond.
As he moved through the hall to find the other room, he started to hear muffled sounds, like the sounds of someone being whipped, or punished for some kind of heinous crime.
Usually, slaves would never be allowed this far into the quarters, but the further he wandered, the more he was finding himself getting lost in adrenaline of wondering what the accused did to deserve such a ferocious beating.
He climbed up another set of barren, stone stairs, spiralling upwards and steeper than any other set so far, and Changbin was perspiring beyond what was comfortable. He considered that he was probably around ten stories up through the stone-clad building, and he hadn’t seen a single soul up the last three floors.
It was becoming apparent to him, the louder it became, that the whines weren’t that of someone in pain, rather, the muffled cries of someone screaming in pleasure.
His interest peaked, and his curiosity got the better of him, even knowing that if he was caught here, he’d be skinned alive and hung up to bleed out like the other bodies in the pantry.
He wandered further through, when he finally saw a crushed, red velvet curtain hanging loosely across a doorway. The moans were so loud by this point, and it was definitely, male.
He quickly realised he was in another bedroom quarters, maybe one far away from the rest to attempt to muffle the sordid sounds escaping the room. He peered underneath, just through the slither of the opening of the fabric.
What he didn’t expect to see through the darkness, barely illuminated with candles, was a broad, welt-pebbled back, facing away from him. Strong, muscular arms held out in front of him, and a bare ass as he entered the room, pants and belt hanging around their ankles.
Heir Hwang, the renowned, and eldest son of the Clutch, was tied down; each wrist bound against the bedposts with red, woven ties tied so tightly his wrists were scorched red.
Pitiful screams were barely escaping his mouth, which had another red clump of silken material balled up inside of it. He was laid totally bare, and had what looked like clear, candle wax pooled in the centre of his chest and down his hipbones, the skin inflamed and angry.
He heard the slap of the mans’ pelvis crashing against the fleshy skin of his ass, the Heir getting fucked deeper into the linen with every creak of the wood. He watched the man grip his sides, the way the Heir wrapped his legs around him for more purchase, squirming around messily like he was putting on some kind of gratuitous show.
The heat between them was thick and dense, all the windows likely dripping with condensation behind the heavy, velvet curtains blocking them from the rest of the world.
Changbin quickly realised that his irises were dilating, as the room smelt distinctly feral.
It was red hot, with human blood.
He squinted his eyes at the broad, brunette stranger gripping on to the hips of the Heir, noticing the subtle difference in the pinkness of their skin. The man was sweating, his ears tinged crimson as he increased his pace, lifting the other man’s legs up, bending his body in half to nail him at a different angle.
The man in question, deep inside one of the ‘truest’ bloods that still existed, was human.
The stranger forcefully pulled at the other man’s legs, shunting him further forward on to his cock, shouting filthy obscenities at him, calling him ‘his pretty, little plaything’ as he threw his head back in euphoria.
He reached his right hand up into the air and slapped it down harshly against the underside of the Heirs thigh, and then his ass, the sound of the stings echoing even louder than the muffled groan the other man was letting out beneath him.
Changbin felt dizzy with the overwhelming, sticky-sweet feeling of the human’s blood pressure rising, as he started to reach his release buried deep inside of the Trueblood.
As the stranger came with a long-fleshed out groan, Changbin’s top teeth instinctively breeched, and his eyes became dry, all the fluids in his body travelling to cater only to his salivary glands. He looked back, to watch the man take the Heir’s cock into his hand, helping him find his own release across his stomach as they panted against each other’s foreheads.
Changbin scuttled back around behind the door, scrambling around, slapping his own hand over his mouth, trying to hold back his own surprise at the particularly salacious turn of events.
He realised that he’d just been there, perversely just watching it all unfold...
He couldn’t help but observe, he was only ‘human’ after all, or at least half.
For now, before anyone heard him, he needed to focus on slipping back into the hall with the other cooks, taking his spot in the entrance hall without detection.
The news of the sordid, little love affair would have to be pushed to the back of his mind, for now.
~♚~