sunrise ˚｡⋆ pairing: vampire! mingi x familiar!reader ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ summary: Immortals may be dead but feel hevily. After a brush with the sun, Mingi's nest invest in a familiar to help the young immortal. You bring him something he has long forgotten about with centuries of living. ˚｡⋆ warnings: none
To obtain a Familiar was an honor. Contrary to the mainstream media and beliefs held by mortals and immortals, becoming one required years of training with only small cohorts that would graduate and commit to an Immortal. Familiars weren’t lackeys, hunchbacks, half-human, half-zombie beings.
Not every familiar was a Renfield and not every immortal was a Nosferatu.
They were angelic beings marked by the shiny pearls with their Immortals house engraved into silver pendants upon their throats.
Violence against a Familiar would incur punishments and instant, harsh demotion in one's place among the ranking Immortal families. The most heartbreaking Familiar trafficking incident recorded in history marked the start of this new era for familiars. Hundreds were found having been kept and bred in farms that would pump them out. They were more slave than human, less cognizant, barely able to function.
The Immortal in question, heading the trafficking, was sentenced to death by sunrise along with his entire line and those who knowingly purchased an illegal Familiar. It was a bleak, dark moment of history and one of the largest mass death sentences among Immortals.
It struck deep fear into those who held a Familiar, tipping the scale in favor of the Familiar.
Mingi saw no need for one in his fledgling years. He eyed the docile beings plenty of times, sat beside or upon their masters or mistresses. In markets and celebrations of the solstices. Some move without having to hear a single utterance from their bound one. Dressed in silks and lace, their skin pristine and untouched. Their marks were covered by ribbons and jewelry. They had grown into symbols of status. The prettier and pampered one's Familiar looked, the more attention one received.
But Mingi was getting older, and he was lonelier. He could feel the illness coming upon his mind. There was an incident that he dared not speak of, but his closest acquaintance began the process of binding once that day happened.
That's how she ended up at their estate. Yunho was gone on business abroad in Rome, but his Sire, Hongjoong, handled all the details. He filled out the paperwork, which had very detailed questions about blood type, gender, the sector they were raised in, and the school they attended. He provided the council with a letter of highest esteem for his fledgling to help him get at least a step ahead of the hundreds of applicants.
One month later, he received a letter in the mail congratulating him. A worker of the estate announced your arrival following the receipt of a letter providing him with the next steps in the Familiar binding process.
You were a stark contrast to the vintage manor.
Your arrival was marked by a small white car that disrupted the quiet, bleakness of the covens estate, concealed by tall, rusted gates that creaked open to allow the car in and close once pass the threshold.
Your hair was carefully pinned up and out of your face, your eyelashes kissed your cheeks as you kept your gaze to the ground. They dressed you in a long black skirt with beautiful lace patterns, a cinched-in corset with a modest white blouse tucked in with flowing sleeves covered in ruffled trimming. And your headpiece settled beautifully in your curls. To your side were two suitcases, and your hands were neatly folded in front of you.
Your pearls moved with your breath against the skin of your chest, no silver pendant. An indication that you were unclaimed. Until he gifted you with his house's pendant, you were still a baby in the eyes of your sister and brothers. Unclaimed. He wanted to sink his teeth into your chest.
He brushed his thoughts and hunger aside to welcome you and your elder sister, who greeted him with a deep bow that you mimicked. She was older than you, and her own pearls held a house seal. One from an ancient and powerful family, an old ally of theirs. She presented you in name with your number and passed off a thick folder with all your certifications and training.
But all he could remember was your name. How beautiful it sounded in his mind.
“The council reminds you that in one month, you must lay public claim upon my sister. If not, I will return to retrieve her, and you will receive further instructions and paperwork to register for a new Familiar. I pray the moon shines upon her and you find her worthy of your crest, my lord.”
Mingi personally showed her your temporary quarters. It was a room double the size of your home in your families sector. The closet was large and empty where two maidens make work of hanging of your uniforms, a beautiful marbled bathroom, and a bed that would surely swallow you whole. A small chaise and table were set up in the corner by large windows which he informed you led to a balcony that overlooked the home’s gardens.
"You can receive your meals here or down in the private parlor if you prefer."
"Here will be fine, my lord, it is considered rude to eat in the presence of one with such a status as yours," your sisters response makes him raise both brows.
You however did not flinch, nor did you voice your own opinion.
"Very well, I will leave the two of you to handle your business."
He allowed the two of you privacy to say your final goodbyes. He closed his eyes, focusing on tuning your conversation out. You deserved the dignity. But his heart, if it were living still, broke hearing the telltale sniffles of your crying. It faded as he made his way to the study, but it still buzzed in his ear even as he sat and forced himself to read documents out loud.
Your elder sister held you tight, reminded you of your training, and kissed you on both cheeks, leaving you in the room while led out by a worker. It was better not to prolong these departures. You would surely see her and your family for holidays, but even then something in you broke as she slowly stepped away and released your hand from her own.
She didn't look back.
And her back was the final you saw before the doors closed.
Quickly, you pulled yourself together, reminding yourself of the vows you took some years ago. Your mother took them, her sisters took them, her mother, and so on. You came from a proud line, and you would do well to carry on that legacy. So you dabbed at your face with your personal kerchief, and quickly exited your room, asking the maid who awaited you all questions in pertaining to the master of the house.
You learned that Lord Song kept a tight schedule with his brokers and checking his abroad galleries and pieces.
Right now it was off season and he was in the throes of designs and maintaining his home collection and gallery.
Some way this brings you comfort, perhaps you would not have to feed him, but for how long can you avoid your main duties?
Your master was an odd being. That much you confirmed in your first week of living in the Song manor.
He hated spiders.
Or anything with more than two legs.
Thus, he demanded the house be thoroughly dusted and scrubbed top to bottom daily.
He let out an unusually high screech one evening when a tiny spider dropped in front both of you as you brushed his dark hair. And he screeched even louder when you calmly clapped it between your hands, killing it instantly.
He was a man who spoke very little but was of deep thought.
When you first encountered him just two days ago, he terrified you. You were thankful your elder sister handled the talking because surely your voice would crack and waver if you were to handle it all on your own. But you slowly realize that man was softer than he exhibited. Less beastly.
He was picky and had odd requirements for you.
He didn't want to drink from you the first night, and he refused to be bathed by you. Had he still been human, you were sure he was blushing when you appeared in his room asking if he needed assistance. He sent you to your room, telling you to care for yourself that evening.
But you brushed it away as jitters. By the fourth night, he was comfortable with you organizing his jewelry and helping him get ready for the evening.
He demanded to eat in your presence for dinners and to be informed of your morning and noon meals as well. You chalk this up as him making sure your diet is well maintained. The chef here, a cheeky sweet soul with beautiful dark hair, feeds you well and sneaks you sweets which you often find by your bedside.
His coffin was large and extremely cushioned. His vanity held cases of scents, jewels, and pieces from his travels all over the world. He shared the estate with a friend away on business. And your master demanded to be called by the first name.
"Lord and master sound too formal, especially for my age" he pouts a bit and you giggle behind your hand.
"If it pleases you my l- my Mingi."
He smiles at that, my Mingi. It stuck instantly.
When you ate your evening meals together, he would eat last. Ensuring you ate everything on your plate. Perhaps he thought you would grow squeamish at the sight of blood, but you all were trained in steeling your nerves and stomachs.
Mingi hated how you calmly picked the crystalline pitcher, no doubt still warm and filled his glass as thought it were water. Your pupils never once dilated, your breathe remained even. He watched for any movement, any sign that you were felt anything in that moment. But you sat back, folded your hands and looked to him for further instruction.
He's scared to ask you what training you underwent in three years to serve blood like it was merely wine.
He had the workers take your measurements and assigned you an unofficial maid to help you dress and prepare yourself for the days while he slept. All of this was not what you studied for the last three years. During the days, he gave you very few to no tasks. With your free time, you read, you explored, you mourned. Would this be your life forever? You asked yourself on day nine as you stared at the canopy above.
Just what was his end goal?
You stood beside his vanity on the cusp of sunrise hands folded in front of you as he disrobed himself behind his changing screen. The heavy curtains were pulled back, much to his surprise. He wonders how a tiny thing like you could pull the heavy fabric back. Your eyes fell upon the cases and cushions that held some of his daily pieces you spent shining, you found him to be an appreciator of jewelery and gems.
"We were once a long line of appraisers," he confided to you when he caught your eyes looking over his collection. You thought everything he kept out on his vanity was much, but during the day as you organized his closets you found where his true collection was and couldn't help but wonder,
"Is he a raven?" You cocked your head as you saw cuts and gemstones that looked unreal. Engravings in metals and clusters of stones that made your eyes shine. The maid you work beside with giggles into her hand at your blunt observation. A lot of the staff found your presence of fresh air. From your mornings spent in the kitchens with the kind chef, to the gentle butler who assisted you in learning the masters routine.
"You know," the chef hums as he carefully sets a plate of freshly made biscuits in front of you to accompany your warm tea. "He's really a giant softy."
He huffs as he steals one of of your plate to begin spreading jam onto, "Master Song?"
You hum as you begin to break the sweet roll into smaller bites, "very."
"And what makes you say that dovey?"
"Well he blushes and gets flustered quite often, and he pouts a lot too. Oh and when I read aloud the letter from his companion I swear he was….vibrating? Like he wanted to jump up and down like a child on Christmas morning." As you list off his traits chef lets out a loud lough that makes you straighten up in your seat. "Did I misspeak?"
"Not at all dovey, finish your breakfast," he nudges your plate forward for you to return to. His hand comes down upon your head making you grumble, you'll have to fix your hair piece later before your master awakens.
Mingi rolled his shoulders has he stepped out from behind the screen, his eyes watched as you carefully returned his rings to their cases one by one. He knows you hate how he carelessly tosses his creations. 'You ought to treat them with care, it's your art.'
”You’re not sleeping.” It wasn’t a question. It was an observation, a correct one. He sits down and allows you to reach down and remove his rings.
”No, my Mingi.”
“Why?”
He feels the tremor of your hands as they now work to slowly remove the diamonds from his ears. “I am well, I swear.”
”Is it the food?”
”No.”
”The bed?”
”No.”
As you open the lid of his coffin, he eyes you, looks for any sign of a lie, but he can’t find it. Your tired eyes look upon him, arms open and palms up, waiting to receive his robe, which he lays in your hands. But he pauses before he can step up into the awaiting comfort of rest. Instead he turns to lean back and cross his chest to look down upon you.
"Why aren't you sleeping dove?"
”Why am I here?” Such an open-ended question has him looking to the dark ceilings. "I feel like I am not performing my duties according to the books and standards of the academy. Is it...is there something more I can provide? I ask myself these questions each and every night."
You felt extremely out of place.
You had too much freedom.
You felt too safe here.
Books to your disposable, access to all parts of his wing. The freedom to communicate with your family often which shocked them as well. You were even alerted that you were allowed visitation into the town during the day following the very few duties you were assigned.
He can see the genuine distress in your down cast eyes.
"My apologies my lord I've forgotten myself."
"None of that," Mingi cradles your jaw to hold your head upright, to look into your eyes with a kindness you forgot about.
"I tried to....I...I," even as he struggles to put words to it, you sit there, your own hand lays atop his own. You wait for him patiently.
"I tried to see the sun one day," your heart jumps, "I truly don't remember the day. They all started to blur together at some point. But...I just woke up and something pulled me toward the windows." His head nods toward the very ones that take up a large portion of the room.
"Yunho caught me before I could fully open them, but it hurt like hell." He shakes his head returning his gaze back down to you. "You're not doing anything wrong. I don't need a wet nurse or someone to warm my bed. What I need is..." His brows furrow. Because truly, he can't pinpoint what it is he got from you.
All he knew was that the days were more memorable. He woke up and his chest fluttered when you were the one to open the lid of his coffin. He felt some sort of warmth knowing you were in the room, even if you didn't spoke. It was like the sun had entered his life.
"Your presence, it's like the sun, at least what I can remember it to feel like. That is what I need from you, dove."
You look like a frazzled cat, eyes going wide and cheeks warming beneath his palms. It makes him huff and finally let you go to lie down, sleep finally pulls him down. But he doesn't miss your flustered face as you stand tall to pull the lid down.
"Rest well my Mingi," you mumble when it is shut. Your hand lies atop the lid for a moment as you take two deep breaths and slowly make your rounds to blow out the candles in his room.
By the time the last one is blown out your cheeks are less rosy, however the pounding in your chest remains the same. It's that very thudding that lulls Mingi to sleep with a smile that he hasn't let free in ages.
Perhaps he is odd.
And a bit of a baby.
But your master is kind.
This you can confirm as you approach week three of being in his home.
You observe this as you both sit outside in the garden beneath the full moon. His legs are crossed as he reads the letters from Yunho while you happily snack on freshly made pastries. As you bite into a bitter sweet tart without even lifting his eyes he reches a hand to pour your tea as you fill his glass.
"Yunho says he is anticipating meeting you, he's to arrive in three nights." Mingi sets the letter down atop the others.
"I look forward to meeting him. your eyes shine when you speak of him. You must adore him dearly," you giggle as his eyes look down to the side while he sips from his cup while you giggle into your tea.
"My lord, the final design." A sealed file is laid in front of Mingi.
"Oh, for the upcoming season?" You ask as Mingi reaches into the folder to pull the sheet.
"No, your pearls."
The way he says it so casually, as though it were typical news. Your heart stops for a moment, your hand stills as it reaches for a second macaron. Your pearls, his mark would replace the barren ones that are upon you. You would be his. He wanted you.
"My pearls," you breath out.
"Yes, would you like to see the final design? I thought you were the type who enjoyed a suprise." He helds the sheet out for you. And while it stares at you so tantalizingly you shake your head.
"No, I...I would like to be suprised at the binding ceremony."
Mingi huffs as he reutrns the deisgn into its sleeve. "Now whose the one mumbling? I don't think I've ever seen you so red like this dove."
"Am not!"
"Ahhh you just went a shade brighter!"
Mingi can't recall the last time he laughed as hard, since he smiled so brightly. It felt as though centuries melted away, gone was the young man frozen for an eternity. He felt like a boy again. Young, dizzy and deeply infatuated with you.
His dove.
His sweet sun.
