#haikyuu supernatural au
(Supernatural/Soulmate AU)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: How do normal people react when they get kidnapped by a vampire and a wizard claiming to be their soulmates? Because you try to choke them out with their own breakfasts. But maybe that’s just you.
A/N: Sup y’all, ik ik it’s been a long time and whatnot, but let’s be honest, my a/n ain’t what ur here for. Hope you like it, and sorry for the wait!
Taglist:@burntcilantro @alloverbutterflies @neonghxst @zaejia @momothepeachgirl @black-veil-chemicalz @bumblebeel @blxkstar @keigosbitch @planetmae @rikorene @idiot-juice-enthusiast @cherriomilkmangos @floriane4536 @shimy-deko @lanceyfancypants @asteroikawa @bokutowo @ichiraku-verse @samie-babie @astro-anomaly @hq149 @pagan-and-gay @erinoikawa @missbuwan @drunken-dreams @prettyinblack231 @franko-pop @artisticamore @bokkubeam @bokutosfeather @autumnandhotchocolate @tendo-sxtori (probably forgot some, it’s been a while :/)
Word count: 4620
“Do you think she’s okay?”
“For the fifth time, Bokuto, she’s fine. I told you I’ve already checked and made sure.”
“Yeah, I know it’s just are you reallysure?”
“You’re pushing it, Bokuto.”
“All right, all right.”
Silence fell as your eyes fluttered open.
“But are you certain?”
“Boku-”
Akaashi’s voice was cut off by a cry, and before you knew it the sun flooding your eyes had been replaced by Bokuto’s face.
“YN, YOU’RE ALIVE!”
“Bo,” you croaked, leaning up onto your elbows before pressing a hand to your temple, “it’s too early for that volume.”
“Afraid not, my love,” Akaashi rose from his seat on a stump a few feet away and moved to kneel by your side. “According to the sun, it seems you’ve slept more than half the day away.”
“Oh,” you glanced around, observing the spanse of dirt and trees before you. The sun sat directly above your head, unencumbered by clouds and backdropped by shades of blue. Birds chirped high and far in the trees, and a gentle wind cooled the sweat that had been beading at your forehead. “Looks like my kind of morning, if I’m honest.”
Akaashi scoffed with a smile, rising to his feet before offering you a hand as Bokuto clambered away in search of something. “Trust me, I know.”
You sputtered at the jab before taking his hand, almost losing your playful air at the contact. His hands were soft to the touch, gentle and warm. So warm.
It finally occurred to you that this was the first time in weeks you’d been relaxed enough to truly revel in the comforting touches Akaashi always provided. The heat flowing from his form thawed the frozen limbs you’d generated from sleeping on the forest floor for hours. When it reached your chest, a feeling akin to finding something long lost embraced you.
“A little lie here and there never hurt anyone, you know.”
“Sometimes it does,” Akaashi’s face fell into seriousness, a fitting but usually undesirable look for him.
Wanting to return the atmosphere to buoyancy, you opened your mouth to take back what you said, but not before clamorous footsteps behind you drew both of your attention.
“Darling, I caught and roasted a squirrel for you to eat!” Bokuto finally returned to the clearing where you had all settled for the night, holding what appeared to be a stick with a disturbingly charred creature on the end.
Your stomach growled.
Akaashi glanced down at you, half-shocked, half-concerned. Your gaze was still locked on the burnt animal, however.
Maybe it was the fact that you had only been eating berries and suspicious leaves for the past few days, or maybe you were truly losing your mind.
But damn were you hungry.
For modesty’s sake, you accepted the skewered squirrel with pursed lips and blank eyes, but deep down you were all but ready to swallow it whole.
“Thank you, Bo,” you trailed off, trying to keep a straight face as your mouth watered.
Akaashi’s hand settled on your shoulder. “My love, you don’t have to-”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Shrugging his hand off, you moved to claim the stump he had sat on earlier. “Can’t wait.”
Both boys watched you with conflicting gazes, one distressed and anxious in a way you’ve never seen before on him, and the other overjoyed.
Judging by the way the thin tail had flaked off at your touch, it was well-done.
This is supposed to be disgusting. This is supposed to be gross. You don’t want to eat this, YN.
You gulped, still observing the squirrel from every which way to see where to start.
But I’m so hungry.
By the time you were finished with your breakfast, Akaashi’s face had turned pale and Bokuto’s had broken out into a smile.
“Did you like it?”
“Loved it.”
With a deep dismay at yourself, you knew you spoke the truth.
~~~
“I say we go west.”
“That’s the way we came, YN.”
“Oh.”
You’d been in the woods for what must’ve been three days, maybe more during your long rest after escaping Kuroo. Bokuto said you were out for forever, and you weren’t exactly sure how to convert that into a measurement of time.
Said vampire stood next to you, holding and swinging your hand with his while waiting for Akaashi to determine the correct way to get home.
Earlier, Bokuto had plucked a dandelion and placed it behind your ear, adding more to the collection whenever he got the chance.
Right now, he’d had plenty of time, collecting so many that he’d given up on your ears and placed them atop your head. “I don’t know how to make one of those crowns,” he’d said sheepishly.
“Akaashi, can’t you just whip up a spell and find out where we are?” you groaned, taking a flower off your head and setting it behind Bokuto’s ear. His face flushed from the force of his smile.
“I don’t have any ingredients at hand, my love,” Akaashi spoke, gaining your attention once more.
“What happened to you being able to just, like, poof it out at any time?”
“Using magic to attack an enemy is different from using it to escape a miles-long forest. And I suppose we should continue heading east.”
Akaashi set onto his chosen path, dodging moss-covered rocks and dangling twigs with you and Bokuto at his heels. Every few minutes he would glance back at the two of you, dandelions behind your ears and hands held before he trekked on ahead, back straight and stiff.
Guilt and shame filled your chest at his obvious discontentedness, and when you murmured his name, he didn’t turn around. “Akaashi,” you repeated, much louder than before.
He halted in his tracks and turned, face a perfect mask of placidness as he responded. “Yes?”
You dragged Bokuto up to him before grasping the wizard’s hand, interlocking your fingers tightly. “Much better,” you grinned, a weight dropping off your shoulders the second his eyes lost their dejection.
“If you think so, my love,” Akaashi whispered, raising your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.
“Wait!”
He froze, brows furrowing.
Uncurling your hand from his, you ignored his heartbroken look and tugged a yellow flower from behind your ear, placing it behind his own and ruffling his hair along the way. A chuckle worked its way from his lips, affecting you much more than was appropriate as you grasped his hand again.
“Okay, now we can go.”
~~~
Three months? A year?
As you lay on the ground, only the moon to keep you company, you ponder how you’ve come to be where you are. Among the arms of two supernatural creatures, ones anyone else your age would have laughed at the idea of even existing.
You had a whole life behind you, one that would never be the same if you dared to return. If you were allowed to return.
The men that lay at your sides, one completely wrapped around you while the other only grasps your hand, don’t make a sound that doesn’t convey absolute slumber.
Only days–weeks?–ago had you told them that you loved them. In the heat of the moment, the word had just slipped out, out to the men who catered to your every whim, every want and need. I love them. I love them.
I love them…
Right?
You loved animals. You loved rainy days. You loved the scent of your favorite fruit and the feeling of stretching first thing in the morning.
All these things felt so easy to define aloud, to say affirmingly “Yes, I do love these things. I love them with all of my heart.”
But loving or simply saying you loved Akaashi and Bokuto had a different effect on you altogether. It felt… revealing. It had the same emotional impact as those dreams of going to school naked. You were bare, leaving yourself wide open to enemy attack.
But these two men weren’t your enemies. They wouldn’t dare to hurt you in such a way. Countless times have they revealed your feelings to you, told you about how you made them feel deep down inside their hearts. You were the love of their lives, and they’ve told you so, verbatim.
Is that what you were feeling then? Love?
When Bokuto nuzzled against your neck in that moment, forcing your chest to thump, was that love? Was it the feeling of calm that settled over you when Akaashi ran his thumb over your knuckles? Was thatlove?
“Keiji?” you whispered, glancing to your right to see if he had stirred. His hand tightened around yours, leaving your heart stuttering. Though his eyes were shut, lashes gently brushing the tips of his cheeks, his lips tilted into a soft smile.
“Yes, my love?” A single eye fluttered open, carefully revealing a deep blue iris that scanned over your face. You were hesitant to ask, afraid to sound like a child asking a juvenile question. But you so dearly wanted to know.
“What does love feel like?”
The question hung in the air as you felt Akaashi stiffen beside you, his hand pausing in its caresses along yours. You lay beside him a bundle of nerves, wondering if somehow you managed to press the wrong button in so few words.
“W-what I meant to say was-was that, umm, you know, is there like a criteria, or… or, like a checklist-”
Akaashi chuckled, effectively cutting you off and forcing a blush onto your face. Shame filled your chest and you lightly pulled your hand from his grip, returning your gaze to the moon. As his laughs faded away into the night, you watched in your peripheral vision as he sat up, leaning back on his elbows as he crossed one leg over the other. Of course, your actions escaped none of his attention.
“My love, I’m sorry. I did not mean to laugh.” He ignored your scoff and continued. “It is just… all of these times I have met you, fallen for you over and over and not once have you ever asked for my criteria of love.”
“Good to know I’m especially stupid this round.”
“No, that is not what I meant,” he shook his head, shifting into a cross-legged position before nudging you to face him with a finger on your chin. “What I mean is… you are so different this time. In a good way. For the first time in so many reincarnations, I feel as though I am learning a side of you, a side of YN I have never known before. It’s endearing.”
“That,” you swallowed, glancing away as a sudden feeling of breathlessness washed over you. In the pit of your stomach sat a comforting warmth, threatening to overtake you and make you shiver. “That doesn’t really answer my question.”
“I know, love, so here is my answer: I do not know.”
Your jaw dropped. “Seriously? You’re kidding me, right?”
But a sincere smile, carefree and so, so unexpected out of Akaashi made you wait to hear an explanation. Boohockey.
“It’s true. Each time I fell in love, every single time was different. I just knew.”
“Surely you’ve gotta know how that doesn’t help me at all.”
He laughed again. “Yes, I know. But, if it helps at all, I didn’t know it in here,” he trails his index finger gently along your temple, “I knew it in here.” When his hand drops to the middle of your chest, your heart jumps.
“That,” you gulp, “must have been quite the surprise for a wise old wizard like you.”
“It was,” he amusedly hums, looking away from you only so he can resituate himself on the ground. He returns to holding your hand as he settles back onto his side, facing you. “A pleasant surprise.”
The night falls into silence once more, only occasionally broken by Bokuto’s natural mumbles.
Did you feel it in your chest? Not just the heart racing, but actual love that came from them, for them?
When Akaashi’s thumb ran over your knuckles once more, uncertainty was washed away and replaced by contentment. You were calm, at peace, and possibly…
“Oh, and, my love?”
“Hmm?”
“Please, do start calling us by our personal names like that more often,” Akaashi murmured, lips pressing against your hair. “We would so adore it.”
Definitely in love.
~~~
The next time you wake, it’s not to the pleasant sound of one of the boys stirring you or whispering your name.
Instead, it’s to the sound of a cracking twig. Leaves rustle in the trees far too insistently to be only the wind. And when you hear distant, unintelligible mumbles, all of your worries are confirmed.
Somebody’s out there.
It’s barely morning, the sun just beginning to paint the sky a gentle blue as the stars finally disappear from sight. Your face feels frozen and stiff, it having been the only thing Bokuto and Akaashi hadn’t covered with their forms throughout the night. Your body is stuck within a tangle of limbs and you can’t quite tell which ones are yours and which aren’t.
Again a branch crackles and your eyes narrow, surveying the towering treetops above you for the source of movement. You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth and gnaw.
Neither of the men beside you have even twitched, both completely unaware of your fraying nerves.
How can they not hear that?
You move to escape the jungle gym that is Bokuto and Akaashi around you, unhooking the leg curled around your hip and carefully unclasping the hands wrapped around your waist. Brushing off the dirt and rocks that had stuck to your skin during your sleep, you take a peek down at them.
You’re only half surprised they’re still asleep when you catch a glimpse of their faces. Bokuto’s face looks relaxed for the first time in weeks, brow completely unfurrowed and nose twitching as he mumbles in his sleep. Akaashi, on the other hand, has dark circles you’ve only now noticed, creating sagging skin underneath his eyes that made him seem like a different person entirely.
It’s been months and yet just here and now are you realizing how the events that have transpired may have affected other people aside from you. As much as you cared and worried for them, locked up and left to die in cages, they cared and worried for you.
You, the one who’s been kidnapped by their worst enemy.
You, the one they’ve dedicated their lives to protecting.
You, their soulmate.
Suddenly, your shoulders sagged. Here you were, thinking they were still coasting on the high of finding their reincarnated love, thinking that all of this adventure, all of these miserable events were just a regular Tuesday for them.
He finally found you, they’d said, back when they’d taken you away from your college and back to their home.
In all of the centuries they’ve been tracking reincarnates like you down, only this time did Kuroo find you too.
The thought of the werecat leaves a twinge in your side, but you’re dragged out of these thoughts by the sound of yet another rustling branch. With one last glance down at the men, you purse your lips and sneak away to investigate.
Due to the sun only just now appearing, the dirt under your shoes is hard and unforgiving. Morning dew on the occasional blade of grass and fallen leaf beads and trails down the plant life, soaking into the forest floor like a daily tradition. Some drops patter down onto your head after dripping off the tree limbs soaring above you.
It’s quiet, peaceful, and for a moment you completely forget why you’re even out there.
And then you spot them.
Two creatures, hundreds of feet above you. Somehow they’ve found a sturdy branch to rest on at such a height. You can only see their outlines, black and human-shaped.
And yet not human at all.
Breath speeding up, you try to back away slowly, as quietly as it seemed you’d come. Your hands wave around at your sides in effort to make sure you won’t back up into anything-
Crack.
Wonderful.
Their whispering stops, and the creatures’ outlines move in such a way that you’re sure they’ve just turned and spotted you.
Shit.
Your head pounds, shouting at you to run or yell or something, but your feet feel frozen to the floor. Cold panic strikes your heart.
The only thing that finally urges you to move is the sight of wings sprouting from the creatures’ backs.
“Cr-rap,” you whimper, just before turning around and bolting.
You hurdle over fallen branches, kicking rocks up behind you as you avoid bumping into trees and tripping over uneven ground. Blood roars in your ears now as you sprint, muscles still sore and whining from the last race you’d run just days ago. But you don’t dare look behind you.
This cannot be happening!
“BOKUTO!” you cry out. “AKAA- AHHH!” At the feeling of two limbs wedging themselves under your arms, you scream, pure, unadulterated terror seizing your chest as your feet unwillingly leave the ground. You kick your legs, trying to hit something, anything, that you might catch on to get out of the grip of the creature behind you. Instantly, you debunk this plan the second its grip loosens on you and you slip just an inch closer to the ground.
The ground that is now a few feet too many below you to land safely.
“I have a fear of heights, I have a fear of heights, I have a fear of heights,” you babble, hands waving around wildly and finding purchase in the upper arms that currently hold you. “I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die.”
Eyes practically bulging out of your skull, you try not to black out when the creature continues flying you higher, wings flapping forcefully behind you as its hot breath brushes your neck. The greens and browns of the forest blow past you in a blur, so fast that the second you surface above the trees, the blue sky blinds you and leaves your head foggy.
The creature finally stops, flapping its wings slower only to maintain its spot inches from the tops of the trees. You whimper when you feel your feet brush the pointed tip of a pine tree.
“Hinata!” it–he?–calls, tightening his grip under your arms as he struggles to hold your scrambling body still. “Hinata, call the others!”
The trees below you crackle closer and closer until the second creature surfaces, looking not much like a creature at all.
In fact, he looks like a young boy, no older than sixteen with scruffy red hair and nervous brown eyes. He wore black shorts and a white shirt, one which you assumed was backless considering what was sprouting out from behind him.
Wings. A human with wings.
How…
They were covered in black feathers and spread out as far as he was tall, each one the length of his entire body.
What…
“Kageyama,” “Hinata” scratched the back of his neck nervously, wings still powerfully flapping behind him as he hovered across from you. Occasionally, his gaze would dance down to you before flitting back up at your… kidnapper- Shit, why does this keep happening? “Are you sure we should be doing this?”
“What do you mean, dumbass?” the voice behind you snapped, deeper and angrier than his friend’s. “She’s an intruder on our territory, and this is our duty. Now call the others.”
“But what if she-”
“If it makes you feel any better,” you choked out, voice quivering as you tried to adjust your grip harder on the boy behind you, “I’m not intruding willingly. In fact, if you just return me to the ground–slowly–we’ll just leave you alone and be on our way.”
The boy behind you tensed while his friend’s eyes widened.
“‘We’?”
A roar from deep below you sounded, angry and out for blood. “YN!”
Even you shook in fear at the sound, nails digging into the boy’s arms harder.
“Who is that?” Kageyama barked out from behind you, but even his voice trembled slightly.
“Kageyama, I told you this was a bad idea!” the ginger pleaded, eyes flitting back and forth between his friend and the trees below.
You opened and closed your mouth, searching for words that wouldn’t get you dropped to your death when you heard a distant rumbling.
In a matter of seconds, the wind slowly began to pick up, blowing your hair into disarray as both of the flying men flapped their wings harder, struggling to steady themselves like surfboards in heavy tides. The sunny, clear day that was evidently forecasted disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Grey clouds formed from nothing and grew darker and darker, growling with thunder as rain started to pour down on you.
Kageyama started lowering himself toward the trees with a cuss before barking at an open-mouthed Hinata. “Get lower, dumbass! You don’t wanna get struck!”
The ginger quickly shut his mouth and nodded, following his friend’s lead and taking cover from the droplets amongst the trees. The second you all found home on a sturdy branch, however, lightning clapped and hit your very tree, electricity sparking it aflame in seconds.
Both of them yelped in shock while you screamed, the strike splintering the tree.
“YN!” Akaashi’s voice rang out and you dared to glance down at the forest floor, the sheer distance making you nauseous. He held out his hands towards you, his fingertips bathing in a dark red glow. You knew he couldn’t safely catch you from this distance, even with the pacing Bokuto by his side’s help. So what was he…?
A particularly harsh gust of wind hit your split tree, forcing your branch and everyone on it to lean closer toward the floor. Akaashi’s eyes widened when you didn’t immediately smile in relief at the sight of them–in fact, you did quite the opposite and screeched in fear, scrambling backwards on the branch so you didn’t slip off.
When your back met the chest of Kageyama, he grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him, blue eyes blaring. His black hair grew tousled in the wind while he sneered at you. “Who the hell are you here with?”
Wind started blowing harder and rain drops hit you like bullets, pounding down on you as the sky rumbled angrily once more. The forest grew uproariously loud as tree limbs crashed against one another, snapping off and soaring through the wind only to collide with more trunks.
And with all this noise and distraction, none of you noticed the vampire crawling his way up the trees until he tackled you by the waist. One arm wrapped around you like a vice, crushing you against him while you shrieked. The momentum of his jump carried you both off the branch and into wide open air, which did nothing for your racing heart as you wrapped all your limbs around him and held on for dear life. You buried your face into his shoulder, almost breaking your nose against his collarbone when he, you assumed, crashed into a second tree and used his three free limbs to hang on.
“YN!” Bokuto called out, wind still whipping past both your ears. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you nodded, not even daring to lift your head.
“Good.” The hand wrapped around your waist moved to rub your back gently as he spoke. “I need you to hang on tight, okay?”
“Mhm.”
You tightened your grip around his form, humming nervously when he let go of your waist to utilize his second hand. “It’s okay,” he reassured you, and you began to realize the wind and rain had slowed. “Just hang on.”
Bokuto climbed down the tree, you wrapped around the front of his chest like a koala as he mumbled calming words to you.
When you felt him stop climbing and heard rushed footfalls, you carefully raised your head and peered out around you, almost crying in relief at the sight of being on solid ground. The second you made a move to unwrap yourself from Bokuto’s body, however, his arms wound themselves around you and effectively halted any form of escape. Another solid form pressed into your back and you knew Akaashi had joined the party too.
“My love,” kisses were peppered along the back of your neck and shoulders, “are you okay?”
You didn’t bother responding fully, instead just humming and nodding your head. You stayed locked in their embrace until your body and your mind cleared. The second a wave of warm tingles crawled up and down your spine, you let them know you were ready to be released by gently pushing away their forms.
A pouty whine escaped Bokuto’s lips as you pulled away and you breathed out a laugh. “I’m okay, I promise.”
“But you’re still on our territory,” an entirely new voice spoke, strong and commanding. The responses in Bokuto and Akaashi were instant as they both whipped toward the new man, tense and ready for a fight. Akaashi’s hands were washed in a red mist and Bokuto released a growl, pushing you behind him as his eyes flashed red.
You were severely outnumbered, you soon realized, as Hinata and Kageyama had seemed to finally call for the others like they’d planned. 12 or so men, all winged and ready for a fight, stood surrounding the three of you. The leader you’d heard talk earlier stepped forward, brown hair and browner eyes looking more intimidating than they should as he looked over you all.
At each of his sides stood men, one with light, fair hair observing you all with furrowed brows while the other’s head was shaved completely, a sharp-toothed sneer focused on all of you. Behind the latter, you noticed, stood a cowering Hinata while the former helped a fallen Kageyama rise to his feet, obviously favoring one leg over the other.
“Who are you?” Bokuto stepped forward, shoulders curled forward as he eyed all of them down. He was obviously gauging his chances, and all but he seemed to know they were slim.
“Shouldn’t we be asking that question?” the bald one snarled, causing the vampire to take a step forward. When the winged man returned the favor, Akaashi placed a single hand on his shoulder before glancing back at you. Swallowing lightly, you slipped a hand forward, sliding it into Bokuto’s palm and softening your gaze when he squeezed it for a second.
Kageyama’s gaze dropped to the action for a second before raising back to Bokuto’s face.
“Calm down, Tanaka,” the leader turned his head, throwing the overexcited man a warning glare. When he turns back to the three of you, his back straightens. “My name is Daichi, and you’re in the Karasuno Crows’ territory. Now, who are you?”
Previous Masterlist Next
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Kozume Kenma is one of the most infamous vampires to ever exist, the legends of him and his clan rivaling that of Dracula himself. His preserved sarcophagus lies in the heart of Tokyo’s Supernatural Museum, subsection C: Vampires. You, on the other hand, are the reason wet floor signs exist. A chance slip, an accidental cut, and a band aid missing the trash can all lead to the chance meeting of you and the vampire committed to serving you eternally. “I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.”
A/N: lil idea I just had. Don’t know where I’m gonna go w it, if anywhere, but like y’all can read it if u wanna Enjoy!
Word count: 3631
“Years ago, this museum was founded after the first sighting of a werewolf in Tokyo. He was spotted at midnight under a full moon just as he- Ma’am, please refrain from touching the artifacts.”
Sheepishly, you pulled your hand away from a hip-high ancient wood carving of a mermaid, inching your way back toward the group as the tour guide fixed you with a dirty look. With a small huff, she straightened her shoulders under her Victorian-style overcoat that matched the rest of her gothic getup. An ancient London day dress made her seem as though she had crawled out of one of the many paintings on the wall that depicted Jack the Ripper as numerous supernatural creatures. The only thing that set her apart was the ID badge that hung around her neck.
As you returned to both of your friends’ sides, you avoided their shaming gazes and instead busied yourself with pretending to listen to the tour guide as she restarted her monologue.
“YN,” one of your friends, Akira, hissed, “you promised you wouldn’t touch anything!”
“I didn’t!” you whisper-yelled back. “The lady stopped me before I could.”
At your half-effort to clear yourself of blame, Akira leaned her head back and let out a loud sigh. Kanna watched the interaction with a ghost of a smile on her lips, sniggering a little as she always did when Akira lectured you.
Both of your friends had invited you with them today as a celebration of passing your first semester of college together. Kanna had obtained the tickets in some way that went along the lines of “My dad’s brother knows the cousin of a guy who…” yadda yadda yadda.
Either way, you agreed to go with because, as expected, nobody was watching you and everyone had their eyes on them. Both of your friends were significantly beautiful, Kanna towering over you with long slim legs and hair that trailed down her back in waves while Akira stood just about at your chin, her hair chopped into a bob that never failed to frame her glowing eyes and constant frown.
Standing with them was like hiding in plain sight–an effortless camouflage.
You only realized you were lost in thought when Akira stalked back from the tour group that had managed to travel thirty feet ahead of you, her hand grasping your arm and dragging you back up to join them. When you returned you saw Kanna flirting with a boy who looked around your age and you distantly remembered him from your chemistry class.
Of course, he didn’t recognize you.
As the tour group made its way through the cathedral-shaped museum, stopping for a few minutes at a time for each exhibit of mythical beasts, your gaze darted back and forth between the ever-growing collection of sculptures and weaponry.
You remember being obsessed with the supernatural as a child, even getting into some intense arguments about whether vampires or werewolves were better, but at some point the infatuation had faded away into passing fascination–you were almost envious that someone had been able to preserve their own childlike spirit so much that they created an entire museum for it.
The outside of the makeshift cathedral looked exactly how you’d expect: towering spires with windows of stained glass depicting angels, suns, and crosses. The inside, however, was so juxtaposingly modern that it slapped you in the face the minute you entered. The walls were painted black with maroon accents, effectively maintaining a gothic theme. Though yellow lights embedded in the ceiling lit up each hall, brass sconces were still nailed to the walls, balancing two flickering candles each.
Everyone walked down a red velvet carpet that covered polished dark wood underneath and muffled their footsteps, the dull thumps somehow making the museum more ominous. Much like the exhibit you were in now, which was centered around witches, a single television hung at the far end of each exhibition room, ceaselessly playing a small, summarizing video of the creature’s origins.
As it murmured in the background about how witches and wizards were not the same thing, you inspected a broomstick that was supposedly owned by a witch from Salem. It floated in the air with two clear strings tied around either end just above a carved marble pedestal holding a gold plaque. The broom of Sarah Good, it read, caught and hanged in the Salem Witch Trials. Her descendants now live in New Orleans, the supposed location of a secret witch coven.
You licked your lips thoughtfully, moving onto the next artifact with vested interest. The next was a cat skull and on its plaque it explained-
Before you even got to read the words, you lost your footing and toppled over, crashing to the ground in a single heap of limbs.
Ow.
Groaning, you righted yourself back onto your butt, inspecting the untied shoelace that had sniped you. Several gasps rose around the room, but not for you.
The wooden stand holding the cat skull balanced now on a single leg, tipping over in slow motion. Crap!
You tried to scramble up onto your knees to catch the fallen display but before you could, a form blew past you in the blink of an eye and caught it in its tracks, righting it back on its four legs before recentering the cat skull.
A chuckle left the museum worker as he spun back to face you, piercing green eyes observing your fallen form. Well, piercing green eye–the other was covered by a tuft of black hair, just as spiky and wild as the rest on top of his head. As he smirked, you could see a hint of his canines, looking sharp enough to cut through skin. You blamed the sight on the lighting.
And on the obvious supernatural fetish.
The man offered a gloved hand to you, the rest of his form draped in a velvet black trench coat, and as he pulled you to your feet, you glanced at his ID tag. Kuroo Tetsurou, exhibit handler. Of course he would be on the lookout for clumsy visitors such as yourself.
Good thing, too, because you were like a bull in a china shop.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, half-avoiding your gaze because you were embarrassed and half because you were never too good at handling yourself like a normal human when it came to attractive men.
“Of course.” He held your gaze and hand for just a tad longer than was socially acceptable before letting go and stepping back. “Though, perhaps stay a couple feet back when observing the artifacts.”
Those “fangs” had to be fake.
The worker left you with one last chuckle and a wink before walking away, hopefully to never see you ever again. God, that was embarrassing! A small pout grew on your face as you flushed deep red, refraining from hiding your face in your hands because you knew that’s what everyone else in the room expected from you–you figured you’d entertained them enough for one day.
While glancing around for a hole to bury yourself and die in, you realized your tour group was long gone. The witch exhibit wasn’t exactly packed with people so you could easily tell your friends were gone as well.
Muttering a small curse, you made your way through to the exit, flinching. when the animatronic witch posed at the door cackled in your ear.
The dimly-lit hall was clear of people aside from a few stragglers searching for a room to inspect. As you made your way down the hall, voices floated out from each room, none sounding familiar. Each doorway had its own silver plaque positioned above, naming the topics of the room.
Centaurs. Genies. Unicorns.
The tour you had gotten tickets for stated that it wasn’t going to go into every room in the museum, but it would brush over the most popular exhibits. And if there was one thing you remembered, it was that the newly-renovated vampire exhibit was the main reason the group you traveled with was so large.
The museum had added an artifact that bolstered their popularity greatly–the supposed sarcophagus of Kozume Kenma, one of the leading vampires of the Nekoma Clan.
Vampires.There!
You speed-walked into the room, slowing your steps when you entered because you’d recently learned where traveling through an expensive exhibit without thinking would get you.
And yet, when you bursted into the room and saw a glimpse of Kanna’s black hair bouncing through the exit, you threw all caution to the wind.
“Kanna!” You zipped in between the red ropes restricting visitors from getting too close to the paintings, darting around glass cases holding blood-stained cloaks and taxidermy bats while waving your arms like that would somehow catch the eyes of someone with their back turned. “Kan-NUH!”
A wrinkle in the carpet launched you forward and you waved your arms wildly for balance.
If anyone had entered the room at that moment, they would have walked right out. You looked insane, like you were acting out your own rendition of monkey-turning-to-woman.
Your fall landed you against a table where a sharpened blade sat, pointed upward for show. One hand slammed against the surface of the marble while the other, in your panic, slid just along the razor-sharp edge.
Shock came first and you flung your arm away with a gasp, stumbling back and crashing into what felt like another table. You reached your bleeding hand back blindly to stable yourself while the other reached up to press against your racing heart.
The pain was finally kicking in and the break in your palm began to drip down your hand, leaking blood with ease. Your hand shook so bad you could barely feel it, numb with panic as you gasped for breath.
Finally, when your gaze stopped wavering in sync with the pounding of your head, you glanced over at the sword display. No blood seemed to stain the blade, but a large sign hung just in the background stating PLEASE DON’T TOUCH!
Definitely not a first for you.
You looked over your shoulder out of instinct for just a second, wanting to see what sat on the table you currently leant on to see what other rules you were breaking, only to feel your throat close up at the sight.
A mummy sat in a polished black coffin, carved of wood with details of vines, leaves, and finally a cat’s yowling face carved into the latch that hung over the cracked-open space. A bloodied half hand-print sat right at the head of the body, coloring the mouth area red while the rest of the wrapping remained an aged white.
“Shit!” you hissed with panicked eyes, lunging back and away. “Shit, shit, shit! Oh, I’m so fucked.” A large sign, even bigger than the flatscreen that played the story of the first vampire, read DO NOT TOUCH OR APPROACH. SARCOPHAGUS IS EXTREMELY FRAGILE.
The three underlines of each word hit you like a freight train and you almost gagged. Unlike your other little slip-ups, this one would seriously cost you.
There was no way the coffin didn’t cost more than your apartment and college tuition combined, and you were already toeing the line of serious debt.
Do I tell someone? Do I not tell someone and let myself get caught?
In terms of damage, the mummy looked totally fine. The small discoloring around the mouth was barely even noticeable from your ten-foot distance away, but the closer someone would get, the easier it would be able to see. Other random speckles of stains littered the wrappings, of course due to age, but in a museum for vampires? With red stains on the mouth of said vampire?
Someone would see. Eventually. But according to the sign, no one would get close to it for a while.
Maybe you would escape this scot-free.
Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and fished for a band aid in your pocket. Injuries were common so you always kept some on hand.
“You’re gonna be fine, YN,” you mumbled to yourself, fighting to tear open the wrapper. Your hands were shaking so badly it was almost impossible and tears stung your eyes. “You’re gonna be fine. Just take deep breaths.”
After five minutes of shaky fumbling and calm words, you finally just ripped the package in half and pulled out of the now-deformed band aid, slamming it over your wound and calling it a day.
Yesterday, you took four finals in four classes. Today, you damaged a fragile museum artifact that, if caught, would cost you thousands.
You were going fucking home.
You tossed your band aid wrapper in the trash with a huff, not noticing the single, stained paper fluttering to the floor just in front of the exit.
+++
Blood. Air.
Blood. Sweet, sweet blood.
Thirsty. Hungry.
Dark.
Pain.
Escape.
Escape.
Escape.
Hoarse wheezes was all Kenma could manage as he lay stock-still on a soft surface. Pins and needles pricked at his every limb and he almost groaned in relief because it meant he was alive.
His tongue was heavy as a rock and was dry as sandpaper but he could still taste the sweet flavor on his tongue. Metallic-like, it was both nourishing and yet not enough.
No, no. Definitely not enough. He needed more.
Twitching his finger was an exercise that if he wasn’t completely dehydrated would have worked up a sweat. Moving the rest of his arm made him wish his death had lasted.
But someone had blessed him with blood, with life, and now he had a debt to repay.
Kenma wasn’t like Kuroo. He followed the ancient laws of vampires, now matter how outdated they were. Born-vampires had one code, and that was that whoever gave you blood and therefore everlasting life, was your master forever.
This was code.
Kenma thought of Kuroo and how he’d taken blood from all kinds of people, an action that would’ve been called taboo by the vampires of old.
Then Kenma thought of Kuroo alone and wondered just where he was.
It was completely dark, and each muscle he moved seemed trapped in the same position. A loud rip split the silence that previously mingled with Kenma’s wheezing as he reached up an arm and patted at his face.
Trapped. Stuck. Wrapped in something?
“K…” Kenma tried to call Kuroo’s name, but even the first letter scraped at his throat hard enough that he gagged.
It was so dry. He needed more of the blood he’d given.
Just a drop would be a blessing.
“Ku…”
But he had to get out first.
If he knew one thing about Kuroo, it was that the man was loyal. If he knew another, it was that he was also immortal.
Because Kenma followed the ways of the code, he was the right hand man of the Nekoma Clan. Kuroo was the leader, but he knew to protect his own.
“Kuro…Kuroo.”
The pain was irrelevant. His hand still scratched at his face, slowly yet desperately as he ached to tear away the cloth. To see light for the first time in centuries.
Footsteps echoed miles away, perking Kenma’s ears.
“Kuroo…Kuroo.”
They drew closer and closer, ever so muffled through the wrappings that trapped Kenma in darkness.
“Kuroo…please.”
A hand batted away the one Kenma kept patting over his face and Kenma heard the zing of a blade.
“Kuroo…”
“Shh.” Kuroo’s voice urging Kenma to shut up had never sounded so melodic. “I’m here. I’m here.”
Kenma let himself relax, allowing Kuroo to cut through the thick cloths encasing his body like a cast. The latter cursed under his breath each time he sliced a bit too close to the skin, almost breaking it.
The process was long and painful. After coming back to life, Kenma suddenly had the urge to move, something he’d never had before.
Except he knew exactly why he needed to move. He needed to find them. Whoever they were.
Though eternal servitude was never exactly Kenma’s life goal, he knew it was an honor to be deemed worthy as someone worth eternal life. To be given such a gift was a sign that your life was meant to be spared.
When all the bindings split away and Kenma could open his eyes, a ringing burst in his ears accompanied by a pounding headache. He’d never known candles to burn so brightly, but maybe that was something of this new age. Or perhaps he was laying below a skylight.
Neither. The light source was a rectangular shape directly above, harnessing the light of a thousand white flames to make the room glow. It buzzed as well, or perhaps that was the few moths that flew around it.
“Kuroo,” Kenma reached a hand up to cover his eyes, “I have to-”
“Shh.” The older hushed him once more before holding a cup to his lips. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
The cup was dark and Kenma couldn’t see what was inside of it. Panic struck his heart and with a sudden burst of energy, he slapped the cup away from his face.
“NO!”
The cup flew, spilling clear liquid through the air before cracking against the floor with a splat. The older man in the room sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
“Kenma, come on. I know the dumbass laws and your dumbass willingness to abide by them. You know I wouldn’t force you to drink blood you didn’t want.”
Kuroo was right. Kenma trusted him to not force blood on him and he trusted Kuroo not to try and bring him back either. Kenma wanted his revival, if it were to ever happen, to be of someone else’s desire to revive him.
He’d just… panicked.
“I know.” His throat suddenly felt parched and sickly and Kenma returned his gaze to Kuroo’s face. “Could you…?”
“Yeah, I’ll go get another one.”
+++
“I’ll never let go, Jack.”
“Just move over on the door, bitch!” you wailed, sobbing into your ice cream and curling deeper into your blankets as the movie drew to a close. Tears ran down your face and half a tissue box sat in numerous crumpled-up balls on your coffee table.
To be fair, a large majority of them came from when you first got home from the museum. After throwing yourself a pity party, you decided to give yourself even more reason to cry by watching the Titanic movie over a bowl of ice cream.
Your phone sat beside the used tissues, occasionally lighting up with missed calls from your friends hours earlier. Texting felt like a waste of energy, and you could certainly tell them what happened tomorrow.
If you weren’t being arrested for damaging museum property at that time.
Even the thought sprung another nervous wave of tears to your eyes and you clicked off the movie, searching for another story to bawl your eyes out to.
Three loud knocks cracked at your door, making you flinch.
Probably Akira and Kanna, worried out of their minds.
“Guys,” you stood up and turned on your living room lights before walking to your front door, “I promise I’m fine. Something just happened today that really-”
But when you turned the knob, it was neither of your friends.
It wasn’t even female.
It was two guys, one looking vaguely familiar while the other was entirely unknown to you.
The first, significantly taller and with the same ruffled hair, was Kuroo. Just the sight of the museum worker made you want to jump out your window and onto the sidewalk ten floors below.
The other was shorter with blond hair just past his chin, the roots a dark brown. His eyes were glowing with a sort of anticipation but his face appeared otherwise bored.
Nerves began to dance under your skin and you shifted from foot to foot, your hand still on the door. You only realized you were biting your lip when both men drew their gazes to the action, and after that you immediately stopped.
“Uhh, y-yes?” You gulped and watched them both with flared nostrils, ignoring the way the blond’s eyes followed your throat. “Did you n-need something, offic- I mean sirs?”
The familiar one’s lips quirked, something akin to amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched your anxious movements. Yet, he never said a word.
Instead, the blond one stepped forward, somehow looking uncomfortable in a red sweatshirt and black sweatpants. There was an air of seriousness around him even as his face gave off a feeling of nonchalance.
Here it comes.
You tensed up your shoulders and closed your eyes, waiting for the words of your doom.
Instead, cold fingers grabbed the hand you had limp at your side and you felt a softness brush over the back.
You opened your eyes once more only to see a small smile with fangs peaking out as the blond pulled his lips away from your hand.
“I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.”
“What?”
