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heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years

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A Wild Valentine Appears!

Ririka Momobami x She/Her Reader (Feat. some KiraSaya!)

A/N: I now realize why it takes me months to finish writing things. I wrote this oneshot in a day and although I have read it over several times already, I still feel like it’s incoherent. I’ll still happily post it though because if I only posted things I was completely satisfied with, I’d post nothing lol. Anyway, just wanted to give a little love to Ririka because she deserves it. Hope you’ll like it! Word Count: 2,425

Ririka stared over the sea of students pushing and shoving to get into any of the more contested council member lines. God, she really hated Kirari sometimes.

Today was Valentine’s Day, and all Ririka wanted to do was go home, order a giant, cheesy pizza, and watch anime from the comfort of her own bed and forget this stupid holiday even existed. But no, her dear sister just had to be an insufferable nuisance. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?

Kirari had decided to inform the council that morning in an unplanned meeting, that in order to spare the mail room from total annihilation (and Sayaka’s back), each council member would have to accept their Valentines in person. She had even set up the gymnasium for the occasion. Not herself of course, she made the house pets do it, but you get the idea.

“But president, I already have an idol greeting in place!” Yumemi smiled, though her eye twitched, “I’m too busy to deal with people outside of my fan club who need I remind you, actually pay me for my time.”

“It is a waste of time,” Kaede pushed his glasses up, “A pointless holiday.”

“Well I think it’s a great idea president!” Itsuki proclaimed, leveling a glare at Kaede.

“Free sweets so I’ll happily comply!” Runa grinned.

“Sayaka,” Yumemi called, exasperation seeping out of the cracks in her cheery idol facade, “Surely you don’t want to watch people confessing to the president all afternoon?”

Sayaka’s hands, hidden behind her back, clenched tightly in agreement, yet her polite smile stayed solid. “The president’s will is my will.” She replied, her eyes dark and focused.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Sayaka will be busy enough dealing with her own little pack of girls! Crazy to believe I know, but she’s actually pretty popular!” Midari sensed the air around the president change and cackled. “I’m cool with it, prez. I’m sure Yuriko’s ego would love all the attention too!” She offered on behalf of the absent council member. Yuriko had some important business with the Traditional Culture Club to take care of before the impromptu meeting was called.

“Majority rules.” Kirari smiled, passing a glance over to Ririka who was silently stewing.

So that’s how Ririka ended up standing in the furthest corner of the gym, watching all her fellow council members’ lines fill up while hers remained painfully desolate. She had never been more thankful for her mask than she was today. However, it was probably because of the mask and her eerie silence that people were afraid to approach her in the first place.

Ririka found entertainment watching Kirari and Sayaka at least. Though those two usually drove her absolutely bonkers, it was kind of funny to watch them take turns discreetly eyeing their ‘competition’ for the other’s affections. It was enough to make Ririka want to scream over the school’s intercom system that they needed to just kiss already and stop wasting everyone’s time, but still funny to see her sister making a mental list of every person who dared get too comfortable with her secretary. Ririka rolled her eyes as she was sure Sayaka was doing the same to the patrons in Kirari’s line. Her sister’s line was much larger than Sayaka’s own, but Ririka knew better than to think Sayaka couldn’t keep up.

“Um, excuse me, vice president?”

Ririka startled, but years of schooling her emotions and physical reactions hid her scare well. She looked away from her sister to stare at the disturbance head on. Ririka was surprised to find a face she recognized. (L/n) (Y/n), she sat next to Ririka’s left in class since their first year of high school. What could she possibly want?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t disrupt your train of thought did I? Here, let me just give you this quick and I’ll be out of your hair,” (Y/n) laughed nervously, her hand rummaging through the school bag over her shoulder, “I knew I should have packed better, sorry, just a second... There!” (Y/n)’s hand finally re-emerged with a rectangular box, striped with red, pink, and white. She held the box out to Ririka with a barely detectable tremor, “I made these chocolates for you. I hope you like them!”

Ririka tilted her head, mouth agape. Was this actually happening right now? Someone was giving her Valentines chocolate? And they were cute and nice? What the hell?

“Oh no, you hate it! I’m so sorry!” (Y/n) looked every bit as horrified as Ririka felt for just standing there and staring like an idiot instead of accepting the chocolates.

Ririka immediately waved her arms and shook her head, swiping the chocolates from her classmate’s hands and pressing the box into her chest protectively. Looking between (Y/n) and the chocolates Ririka knew she had to do something to show her gratitude so, she awkwardly flashed (Y/n) a shaky thumbs up. If Ririka could blush through her mask she was sure it would be bright pink.

“Thank you, vice president! I hope you like them, I worked hard on these- but! But don’t feel obligated or anything!” (Y/n) quickly added.

Ririka looked down at the pretty box in her hands a popped the lid open, a little gasp escaped her lips and came through her voice modulator like a crackle of static. The chocolates were shaped like cats!

“I hope you don’t mind, I noticed you doodle a lot during class and I think you make the cutest little kittens so that’s why I shaped the chocolate like that. I made the mold too, it took a couple tries, but the end result was worth it I think.”

Ririka hadn’t realized (Y/n) had paid attention to her at all, much less that she would be interested in her enough to know what she did during class, or remember and care enough to then turn such observations into an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gift. There was no way she was going to be able to keep her eyes off of (Y/n) during class now... not that she had ever stared longingly at her before! Or chickened out of buying chocolates to put in her classmate’s shoe cubby that morning, not at all! But damnit Ririka really wished she hadn’t been such a coward now!

“I’m glad this worked out. I had been planning to just send them through the mail system like I have in previous years, but then I heard that the student council was only accepting gifts in person this year and I kind of lost my nerve,” (Y/n) rambled on, waving her hands around as she talked.

Ririka couldn’t believe it. (Y/n) had sent her chocolates before? She had never gotten them. They had probably been lost in her sister’s vast piles of confectionary wealth, damn her sister!

“You are always so distant with everyone. I was afraid I was just going to be bothering you, but seeing you standing here all alone... I knew I had to just go for it and put my feelings out there, you know? Ah, I’m talking too much. I should really—“

“The president did not consent to be touched!”

(Y/n) and Ririka whipped their heads around just in time to see Sayaka flip a student twice her size to the ground, tasing him for good measure. Kirari stood by with an amused smirk, her hands rubbing sanitizer into her skin as she watched her secretary obliterate the boy.

The girls who were still waiting in Sayaka’s line started cheering and swooning which quickly made the president’s mood sour and she turned to the girls, offering them an icy stare that shook them all to the bone.

“I’ve grown quite bored of this. Would any of you care for a high stakes gamble? I’m sure we all have something of value to offer.” Kirari spoke, reaching her hand out towards the group.

The girls dropped their gifts and ran away screaming, none dared to accept the president’s wager. Especially not while she looked so menacing albeit elegant, as if she drank human blood and tears from a wine glass while sitting regally upon a throne constructed from the bones of her enemies.

Once the boy on the ground was disturbingly still, Sayaka stood and brushed off her skirt, her dark, calculating eyes scanned over the rest of the line. She zapped her taser twice in warning causing the remaining students to scatter and flee the scene.

“Oh my, Sayaka. Did you need to be so harsh?” Kirari teased, as if she hadn’t just subtly threatened a handful of high schoolers herself. She’d be lying is she said she hadn’t enjoyed the momentary chaos she had created.

“School hours are nearly over president. I was simply killing two birds with one stone.” Sayaka informed, still looking a bit miffed.

“Ah, so they are. Well then, far be it from me to hamper anyone’s holiday plans.” Kirari looked around at the remaining students and made a shooing motion with her hands, clearly bored, “Leave.” The students knew better than to complain, not directly in front of the president at least. (Y/n) moved to follow the crowd but Ririka grasped her by the bicep, keeping (Y/n) glued to her spot. Ririka was not going to let her slip away, not without returning the favor. Once the students were pushing out of the gymnasium doors, Kirari turned back to Sayaka, her eyes glimmering. “Sayaka, accompany me to the student council room. I would love a hot cup of tea. You always prepare it so well.”

“Yes, president!” Sayaka nodded, falling in step behind Kirari as she took a different exit.

“That was, something.” (Y/n) laughed, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, “I better get lost now before I overstay my welcome. Um, thank you again, vice president.” (Y/n) moved to pull away but Ririka held on tighter, making her classmate’s skin grow warmer. “Vice president?”

Ririka looked around at who was left loitering in the gymnasium and rolled her eyes. She may not have gotten chocolates for (Y/n), but she was surely going to make up for it before the day was over. Ririka just needed to get away from all these people first. She tugged (Y/n) along to the gym storage room and blushed as Runa laughed and pointed at her. She pulled (Y/n) inside the storage room and closed the door behind them.

“(L/n),” Ririka’s distorted voice crackled to life behind her mask, causing (Y/n) to jump. (Y/n) had never heard her speak before. “Do you like anime?”

“I- yeah I like anime?” (Y/n) blinked, she clearly had no idea where this could possibly be going.

“Do you like pizza?” Ririka persisted, the modulator making her sound much more severe rather than excited.

“Sure, I like pizza vice president.” (Y/n) answered taking a cautious step back as Ririka stepped forward, effectively cornering herself.

“Would you...” Ririka’s hand quivered as she lifted it to her face, (Y/n) tracked the movement, a look of bewildered wariness upon her face as she waited with bated breath for whatever was to come next. Ririka pulled the mask off her face, blushing as (Y/n) grew more shocked, awed, and confused. “Would you like to come to my house to watch anime and eat dinner?!” Ririka squeaked, her face growing hotter after every word that left her mouth.

“But— how? You... we were.. and you were, and then you?” (Y/n) babbled looking between Ririka and the door, weakly pointing between the two. Ririka starred at (Y/n) oddly then smacked her hand over her eyes and laughed feebly at the misunderstanding.

“I’m not Kirari. We’re twins. I’m Momobami Ririka.”

“Twins? Oh,” (Y/n) suddenly looked very relieved, “I thought for sure Igarashi was going to pop out and strangle me with a jump rope or something. Twins, wow! How have I never guessed?”

“Do not tell anyone!” Ririka warned. “No one is supposed to know yet!”

“I won’t tell!” (Y/n) raised her hand and made a gesture of zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me, vice president!”

“Well, good.” Ririka replied awkwardly. “So do you want to...?”

“Oh, yeah!” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “Yes, that sounds like fun, thank you for inviting me.”

Ririka smiled, “Excellent.” She fitted her mask back over her face and led (Y/n) out of the storage room by the hand. “Come with me.” the distorted voice commanded.

Ririka dragged (Y/n) down the hall and the feeling was near euphoric. The grin taking over her face was fighting to be as wide as the one covering her mask when (Y/n)’s hand grasped hers just as tightly.

***

“That’s odd...” Sayaka murmured staring down into the courtyard from the student council window.

“What’s odd, Sayaka?” Kirari asked, tone light and playful as she hugged her secretary from behind, resting her chin on Sayaka’s shoulder.

“President!” Sayaka blushed, wiggling in Kirari’s hold. “I just, I didn’t realize the vice president had a girlfriend is all.” Sayaka explained, pointing to the two girls jogging up to an expensive, black car.

“Oh?” Kirari was just as bemused as she was confused, not that she would allow her face to show it. Watching her sister usher a girl she recognized as a classmate of theirs into the back of the car before Ririka followed in after her and closed the door. Soon after, the car pulled away from the curve. “How interesting.” She would have to confront Ririka about this at a later date, but for now she had a secretary to shower with affections. “Sayaka, this chocolate is delectable. Would you like a taste?”

“I think I would. Thank you, president.”

Kirari smirked, removing one of her arms from around Sayaka to pluck another chocolate from the box while Sayaka turned to face her. Sayaka naively held out her hand, then spluttered when Kirari placed the chocolate on her own tongue and pulled Sayaka closer.

***

“Oh! I remember this episode, it’s so good Ririka, you are going to love it!” (Y/n) was practically vibrating in her spot on the couch.

“Really? I’m looking forward to it.” Ririka smiled between bites of pizza.

Hopefully they could make a habit of this. Who knows, maybe she and (Y/n) would actually pass up Kirari and Sayaka in terms of pursuing a romantic relationship at a reasonable pace. Ririka cautiously leaned her shoulder against (Y/n)’s and she received a kind smile that enveloped her more warmly than the snug blanket over her lap.

Best Valentine’s Day ever.

#kakegurui oneshots #kakegurui x reader #Ririka momobami #ririka x reader #ririka momobami x reader

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hello-nichya-here · 3 years

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Ok, so what in your opinion is the WORST mistake that the showrunners for Game of Thrones made in terms of content, either it's addition or redaction?

WARNING: Looooooong post ahead

Themes are for eighth-grade book reports

This absurd quote by one of the showrunners explains why exactly the show fell appart. They wanted to make a story... without themes. Anyone with a minimally functioning brain will tell that this is impossible because every story, even the simplest and least complicated story there ever, has a theme. Even a nihilistic story has a theme "Nothing matters". Every. Story. Has. A. Theme.

But Game Of Thrones didn't, at least not after the writers ran out of books to adapt and did their own thing. Everything every character did was no longer to build a narrative, but to essentially act as click-bait. The focus was to make people keep watching, not on making any content that was worth watching.

The first four seasons had it's problems, just like the books had it's problems, but Martin's writting was so brilliant that it managed to stay good even while being handled by absolute clowns. The moment season four ended was the moment the show stopped being an adaptation and became it's own thing - and like I explained before, said thing wasn't a story.

Shock

Both the show and the books had MANY shocking, heart-breaking and downright horrifying scenes: Daenerys being raped by Drogo; Bran being pushed out the window after accidentally seeing the queen fucking her brother; the whole deal with Craster and his daughters; the Dotrakhi destroying Mirri's village and her revenge against them and Daenerys; Ned's death; Melisandre giving birth to a shadow baby that killed Renly; The Red Wedding; Jeoffrey's death; Tyrion killing his father; Theon being tortured by Ramsay...

The difference is there were REASONS behind the shocking scenes Martin created. Even when you look at things like rape and torture scenes and threats of rape/torture - Martin used those scenes to remind us that the world he created is an EXTREMELY dangerous and downright vile place, and that the characters are never truly safe, and that there are WAY worse things than just being killed.

Dumb & Dumber on the other hand, gaves us scenes like an evil, former man of the night's watch evily making an evil speech to his fellow evil men, evily drinking whine from a human skull while nameless women were being raped in the background - but little does he know that Jon Snow, the hero, is about to wreck his shit. It takes something that could realistically happen (and that did happen in the books) and takes it up to eleven because the writers think shock is the same as quality and that the audience is SO STUPID that they need to practically make the actor jump out of the TV, grab us by the shoulders and scream "I'M EVIL! I'M THE BIG BAD! ROOT FOR THE HERO TO KILL ME!"

Pretty much every bad guy became a parody of Jeoffrey, ironically enough because the writers took Jeoffrey too seriously. He was a cruel, sadistic character, who had WAY too much power - but he was also a spoiled baby whose reply to Tyrion bitch-slapping him wasn't a threat, but "I'M TELLING MOM!" Jeoffrey worked because he was only allowed to do his thing whenever smarter, more competent characters like Tyrion and Tywin where not around, meaning his actions, while inhumane, never reached the point of no longer being believable.

The horrible things that happened to the characters no longer felt "right". For instance, Sansa had just been taken to the Eerie by Little Finger, who has a weird complex in which he sees her both as the daughter he never had with Catelyn AND as a replacement for Catelyn, and she was starting to truly be a player instead of a pawn... and then the writers realized "Oh shit, we should have not cut the Jeyne Pool/Fake Arya' plot, that was important" and forced it on Sansa, making Little Finger hand her on a silver plater to Ramsay and turning her into a victim AGAIN, this time to a man that dramatically fights his enemies without a shirt own, practically saying "come at me bro"

Compare this to Ned's beheading, or Catelyn and Rob being betrayed and killed by the Freys. These moments were shocking and downright depressing - but they were earned. The writting was on the wall for anyone to see: Ned was at the mercy of Jeoffrey, and the Starks had given the Freys, who are notoriously disloyal, a reason to resent them. These twists felt completely natural, were the only logical way for the situation the characters were in to play out, AND they had consequences to plot instead of just making the audience gasp and then being forgotten about.

Plot armor

It's kind of ironic and almost tragic that the show that became famous for killing characters later became the worst type of high-stakes series, putting the characters in situations they could NOT survive, not even if a goddamn miracle happened, and having them live anyway. What's even worse is that it happened repeatedly. If I had to see Jon Snow almost die and then survive anyway one more fucking time I was going to lose my mind.

There's no bigger proof that there were just no consequences for the "main" characters anymore than watching the second, third, and fourth episodes of season either. The first sets up that this battle against the night king and his army of undead is likely going to kill the majority of them, if they're lucky... and then in the third we see the plot armor in all of it's "glory", and then in the forth we find out that the Dotrakhi, who had ALL been killed, actually still have half the numbers they had the night before, somehow. Even red-shirts weren't dying anymore.

DORNE

This disaster needed it's own session because HOLY SHIT, it's a miracle/tragedy that everyone didn't go "Fuck it, I'm never watching another episode of this stupid show."

The Dorne plot in the books isn't perfect, but what the show did to it was so fucking bad that I'm pretty sure the writers didn't even read the Dorne chapters in the books, they just looked at a wiki, wrote down the names of a few characters and then did their own shitty thing.

In the books, Doran Martel is a clever, dangerous man, who pretends to be harmless so people will understimate him and step right into his trap. In the show, Doran Martel... died. That's it. I can't remember anything else that happened to him. Add him to the list of "Brilliant characters that became stupid due to shitty writing", I'm sure Tyrion, Varys and Little Finger will love making him company.

The sand-snakes, one of the main driving force of that plot, were all distinct characters in the books, with their personalities, goals, methods and motivations - basically they were created by a writer who knew what he is was doing. In the show they were all the same "character" who could be perfectly described by that horrible, cringy, PAINFUL line one of them (I can't even remember which) said to Bron "You want a good girl, but you need the bad pussy" (Seriously, if that actress ever kills the show-runners as revenge for having to say that, she'll be 100% justifyed in doing so)

And we cannot forget the driving force behind that unwatchable shit show: Ellaria Sand. In the books, the death of Oberyn made her believe that revenge only leads to more blood-shed. In the show, his death enraged to the point of wanting to avenge him and his family, and she did this... by killing his family. If that doesn't explain how insane and stupid this plot-line was, I don't know what will.

Hype = Character assassination

Many shows are based around the conflict between the bad guys and the good guys. Game Of Thrones is not one of these shows. Or at least it wasn't. As they ran out of ideas, the writers started mutilating every single character until they could be label as "Good" or "Bad", regardless of what felt right to the story and to the point that there was nothing left of said characters. Stannis's actor, Stephen Dillane, straight up said that the only thing he got from being on the show was money and that his character's motivations and decisions were nonsense - ironically enough, that kind of brutal honesty means that the writers had THE perfect actor play Stannis, and wasted his fucking time.

Here's a list of the characters that fell victims to this horrible fate: Catelyn Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Jon Snow, Melisandre, Stannis, Jorah, Daenerys (bonus points for being mutilated into being both a generic, shitty "hero" and a generic, shitty "villain") Greyworm, Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark...

Pretty much the only character who became more complex in the show than she was in the books was Cersei. While her book self was never just a "Generic Evil Queen", the show version of her was far more sympathetic, which made the stories she was part of interesting. Too bad the writers ran out of ideas of what to do with her after season six and just left her by the window drinking whine until Dany showed up to kill her. Which brings us to...

Why is this happening?

Cersei was seen as a threat in the last two seasons based on nothing but the things she HAD done. Her story just ended the very second season six did, but since she was still alive despite being one of the bad guys she had to die... I guess. She (and by extention Jaime) joined the list of characters that had nothing to do, but were still around: Davos, Theon, Yara, Melisandre, Bron, Sam, Gendry, Bran (the last one being SO unnecessary that he was cut from season five and no one noticed)

To combat that issue, the writers gave characters "motivations" that made no sense. For exemple: Sandor Clegane. His only reason to be in the show was so he could kill his brother. The problem was that Gregor was already dead. He was a walking corpse. There was nothing left of the abusive brother Sandor once knew, meaning he had no reason to fight him, and that, to keep Sandor around, the writers should have come up something new (like the redemption that book fans have been waiting for, and that has a lot of backing evidence). You might as well have had HIM be the one to randomly fly out of nowhere and kill the night king despite having no connection to him.

And since we're talking about the night king... Arya was the one to kill him. Why? Because the writers ruined Jaime's redemption arc, meaning that the only fitting ending for him was to die with Cersei, and so Arya could not kill Cersei despite wanting to, having the ability to do, AND having heard a prophecy that said she'd "Shutting brown eyes, blue eyes, and green eyes forever", the last one being the only one she had not done AND applying to Cersei. But Dumb & Dumber admitted they had no plan for this, so now that they were at the last season, they needed to do something with it, and they retconned it to mean Arya would kill the night king...

But Arya killing him meant Jon had nothing to do, so Dany had to go mad so he could kill her. To "hint" at that, they ignored all the not at all subtle foreshadowing the previous season had of Dany and Jon having a kid, and they even showed her getting jealous that he was technically the true heir... even though that made no sense since they were going to rule together anyway, and even after Dany went full "Mad Queen" she ASKED HIM TO RULE WITH HER. But anyways, he kills her and becomes king...

Except he doesn't actually become king and him being a secret Targaryen has no effect in the plot, because Bran needed to become king so there'd be a reason for him to be alive, because his magical powers turned into a plot-device. A plot-device that wasn't used at any goddamn point. Seriously, the only thing as bad as Bran becoming king was Euron's existence - dude was THE most useless villain ever AND the worst Jeoffrey parody.

A darker story (literally)

I could not end this rant without bitching about this. What is the point of spending an ungodly amount of money on sets, costumes, make-up, special effects... and then using such poor lighting that no one can see what the fucking is going on?

Anyway, this disaster of a series was so absurd it should be used as an exemple of what NOT to do.

#asks #long post #got #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #rape #violence #death

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pars-ley · 4 years

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Red thread of fate

Pairing: Vampire Seokjin x Female human reader

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Fantasy au / Soulmates au / Vampire au /

Warnings: Mentions of blood / mentions of staking / oral f.recieving / foreplay with candle wax / bondage / blindfold / dead body / minor character death / self inflicted wound (not fatal and not a suicide attempt)

Summary: The red thread of fate leads you to your soulmate, when it's someone completely unexpected and completely against your upbringing, how will your family history impact on this match and will going against them come back to bite you.

Word count: 6668 (666 👀)

A/N: This is for my BTS writers group secret santa project for @crystaljins I messed up and it ended up being not so secret but I really hope you enjoy this! It’s a bit out of my comfort zone and even though it was stressful, I’ve enjoyed that challenge. Thank you for being so understanding too.

Beta read by @aroseforyoongi thank you for being a life saver! Thank you to @papillonsgf for your helpful advice, who else would I go to about old fashioned language use, you’re the queen. Last but not least @wheresmymoniat for her ENDLESS help and support! I will never be able to thank you enough.

Running along the beach at night with nothing but the moonlight illuminating your way, may be eerie to some but to you, something about the darkness brought you peace. It soothed your mind and silenced your thoughts.

You've been following this feeling for years, letting your feet lead you to the pulling sensation and yet never seeming to get anywhere closer to where it wants you to be.

You've ran across this beach almost every night for the past year, against the ingrained advice of your family, warning you about the demonic creatures that prey on the innocent, concealed under the blanket of night.

So far, the only thing you've come across, night after night, are the echoing sounds of despair, calling along the cool night breeze.

The noise frightened you at first but now, you grow curious about it. Where is it coming from? Who or what is it coming from? And why? What could fill someone with that must much distress, that they call out into nothing? Maybe, it's a cry for help. Who knows but you were determined to find out.

A shadow in the distance catches your eye, a silhouette, someone standing on the wet sand, the low tide pooling around their feet as they stare up at the full moon.

You slow your jogging to a walk, as to not alarm them, the sea lapping against the shore is the only sound you can hear tonight.

As you near, the person turns to you, a man with striking features and broad shoulders. He watches you bewildered as you close the distance between you. Your feet moving on their own, your body being pulled more forcefully than ever before.

Until you're here, in front of him. The one they all whisper about. Kim Seokjin. The town's resident vampire.

The many rumours of him insist he's lived here for more than 200 years, pacing the cliff edge each night, never changing and never aging. Most people laugh it off as nothing but myth but you knew different, you knew the rumours were true. And here you are faced with the man, the mystery, the legend himself. The legend who has slain every vampire hunter he’s come in contact with, another fact you were privy to know.

"It's nice to meet you Seokjin." You say confidently.

He smiles warily, an obvious glint of sadness in his eyes. "I see my reputation precedes me?"

"It does. But it's hard not to recognise the only vampire in town."

He laughs darkly. "Is that what they say?"

You watch him carefully, wondering what could be tormenting him so, a shroud of darkness covering him or keeping him hidden. "It is, but don't worry, I'm very good at keeping secrets."

"If you believe that, are you not afraid?" He turns to face you with a questioning brow and a menacing grin.

You shake your head. "No."

"And why not?" he asks, his face dropping back into a sorrowful mask as he returns his attention back to the inky sea before you.

You turn too, facing the view of the reflected moonlight shimmering across the water and shrug. "Something is telling me I shouldn't be, call me crazy but I can feel that you won't hurt me."

Glancing over, you see him staring down at your hand, wide eyed and open mouthed.

"What?" You ask, examining it suspiciously.

His mouth snaps shut, eyes darting back to yours as his face conceals all emotion.

"What are you doing out this late? Did no one tell you of the creatures of the night?" He teases a slight smirk curving his plump lips., so smooth, there’s not a single wrinkle creasing the skin.

You laugh. If only he knew, your family probably knew more than he did about the creatures in question. "I come along this beach every night."

He frowns. "Alone and in the dark...why?"

Will he think you're crazy if you tell him? No crazier than him being a vampire i suppose. "I'm searching for something."

He turns towards you, his body angled completely in your direction, capturing his full attention. "And what is that?"

You shrug, cheeks flushing but hoping the moonlight isn't enough to reveal your embarrassment. "I'm not sure."

He huffs a laugh out of his nose, the sounds of the air leaving his nostrils strong enough to be heard over the rolling tide. "You are a curious creature."

You raise an eyebrow at him, giving him a quizzical look and he laughs, a light now sparkling in his dark, guarded eyes.

"Touché. Would you care to walk with me?" He asks, stepping out of the surf and back onto the dry sand.

You nod, following the footprints he's already left behind as he heads off in front.

"You seem to know so much about me and I know nothing of you, apart from the fact you like moonlit walks on the beach every night." He looks sideways at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

"Ok, for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one in return."

His mouth stretches into a smile. "Fine but I start."

"Deal; but you have to be honest. No lying."

With a smirk he stops, gently taking your hand in his and bringing your fingers slowly up to his mouth, his eyes staring into you the entire time. "You have my word." He places a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and it's enough to make your heart hammer wildly in your chest. You wonder, embarrassingly, if he can hear it.

"Ok, what is your name?" He starts.

You tell him, leaving out your family name as it may raise more questions than necessary. A confrontation you're not quite read for.

"How long have you lived here?" You ask.

"Here on this earth, or here in this town?"

You smirk at his smart-ass response. "In this town?"

"Roughly, about two hundred and thirty years." He looks over at you, watching your expression carefully for reaction, all you can do is nod, keeping your face impassive. "What were you searching for on the beach?"

You grimace, knowing that question was coming but dreading it just the same. "I truly don't know...it sounds crazy…"

Shrugging, he says, "Try me."

Sighing you give in. "For years, as soon as I turned eighteen, things changed, something was pulling me, leading me. It led me to different countries around the world until eventually...back here. I feel like something's calling me but I have no idea what…" You watch him as he stares at the sand he steps on, a focused frown between his brows. When you get no response, you move on.

"Ok, how long have you lived on this earth?"

"Three hundred and seventy nine years."

He says it so matter-of-factly you mouth 'wow'.

"What countries did this feeling take you to?" He asks quickly, before you even have a chance to begin to process his last answer.

"Erm, France first, then Italy, Peru and lastly Finland. What do you eat?...or drink?"

He gives you a dark look and a mischievous grin stretches his mouth revealing his perfect white teeth. Are they sharp? "What do you think?"

"Don't answer a question with a question." You roll your eyes at him and he laughs, a low chuckle that feels like it vibrates your soul, warming you up from the inside.

"As you wish...I drink blood. Does that make you nervous?"

An involuntary swallow makes its way down your throat and your cheeks flush. "A little." You admit sheepishly. "Do you only drink from humans?"

"No, sometimes animals. Do you want children in the future?"

You choke on air at the strange turn in questioning, always feeling uncomfortable when kids are mentioned, always ready for the judgement your answer brings. "No, I'm not keen on them and they don't like me."

He laughs, the high pitched screech ringing out around you, bouncing off the cliff faces as you walk and you realise you’re smiling up at him in response.

"Do you kill the people you drink from?"

He reels at your abruptness but amusement sparkles in his eyes. "No, they go home unharmed and usually, do not remember a thing. Do you have a significant other?"

"No.” you ignore the tug of loneliness you feel at the reminder but try not to pause too long. “Is that one of your...gifts, you make people forget?"

He nods. "Of sorts. Have you ever been in love before?"

You feel hot under your shirt, the material suddenly too clingy and uncomfortable and the questions getting too personal but you can’t stop answering as you need to know more about him and you can’t explain why. "...no. Have you seen much of the world?"

"I have been to many places in my lifetime and seen many things, yes. Do you believe in love?"

You stumble slightly and his hand instantly wraps around your arm, steadying you with a firm and yet gentle grip. "Um, yes I do. Where's been your favourite places to visit?"

"I'm sensing you like to travel, hence the line of questioning. Well, most recently, I've been to France, Italy, Peru and Finland." He watches you from the corners of his eye and you frown, curious as to why, when his answer registers.

Your feet stop moving, they can't-won't move. You stare at his broad back before he slows and turns to you.

"When did you go there?" You ask into the heavy silence, no longer hearing the waves lap against the shore.

He looks out to sea, away from you. "I think you know the answer."

You did, but you had to hear him say it, you needed to hear the words. Your frozen form unmoving with wide, seeking eyes, your mind frantic as you try to make sense of this.

He sighs. "I left here three years ago and returned last year."

Your mind explodes with questions. How is this possible? And what does it mean?

"Let me ask this then, where is that feeling of yours pulling you now?" He asks, closing the distance between you and gently cupping your face. You find yourself leaning into it, his touch seeming to comfort your wild thoughts, if only for a moment before you remember he’s a stranger to you. You hear his question bounce around in your mind, realising alarmingly that you're not being pulled anywhere. You feel completely in control of yourself for the first time in a long time, completely at ease and at peace.

Your body feels lighter, your mind free of wondering.

Him. It couldn’t be...could it? If it is him...why?

He must see the question behind your eyes, he strokes his thumb across your wrinkled brow, smoothing the skin and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Tell me, have you ever heard of the red thread of fate?"

What do you do when you find your soulmate? The person, or vampire in your case, who is bound to you forever…

What could you do? No use fighting fate, you'll only end up being proven wrong.

You'd listened intently, when Seokjin had explained all about the red thread and told you many true stories of soulmates with both happy and tragic ends, until the sky was light and the sun was almost up and he had to retire back to his extraordinary house on the cliffs.

He had told you that vampires have sight for the thread, only attached to themselves and no one else but that they lack the ability to be able to follow it, unsure as to why, he insists it’s another way for vampires to be tortured.

You have a lot of information to process and want time alone to do so.

You lock yourself in your apartment the morning after meeting him. The one your soul is bound to. The one who will have your heart completely. Even as you think it, it feels odd. What are you having such a hard time with? If vampires are real, why not soulmates?

For days you keep yourself trapped inside, unable to keep your pacing legs still, as you incessantly wear a beaten pathway through the pile of your plush carpet.

The storm swirling in your mind, turning your thoughts into a twister of frenzied energy, you grapple with yourself in a constant battle to keep yourself grounded whilst also listening to your heart over your head.

This goes against everything you've been raised to believe. Vampires are predatory monsters, who crave on the pure and innocent to torture and outlive their perverted desires.

What would your parents say if they knew? You could envision a few choice words, at the very least but do you even care what their response would be? Definitely not. And yet, here you are, staring absentmindedly out of your window the view of the beach haunting you, possessing your mind with his face, his laugh, his voice. Your head feels torn, split in two, a crack right down the middle of your skull seeping out sanity as you cradle your head in your hands, a feeble attempt to keep it together.

Your clammy palms and racing heart cannot be calmed no matter what you try in the few torturous days you've spent inside. Something's not right, you feel it in your bones. That usual pulling feeling returns with vengeance, fighting the force on your vital organ makes you sick to your stomach.

You expected to welcome it with open arms, as you'd grown accustomed to it like an old friend, comforted by it sometimes but as you sit, wrapped in a blanket on your sofa, you feel frantic. A sheen of sweat dampens your brow, restless fidgeting of your feet and legs, an uncomfortable pit in your stomach, heavy as a rock. You can't resist any longer. You have to get out. You have to go to him. You swallow a harsh lump in the back of your throat, the need to scream rising with bile and you grab your coat, your legs leading you, running along the wobbly paths, taking you onto the beach and along the sea edge, back to the same place you stood a few nights ago.

When you see him standing in the distance once again, nothing but the moonlight on him, your legs gain power and charge you towards him. He is your only destination right now, the only end you seek, the only holy grail you desire.

His head snaps up to you as he begins to close the distance too. He's in front of you before you can blink, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle, clinging to your back in sheer desperation as you fling your arms around his neck and do the same. His relieved breath sounds in your ear As you feel all your stress and pain ease away, washing away with the tide that bleeds into your shoes and tickles your feet.

An overwhelming comfort encases you, emotion swelling in your chest and spilling from your eyes.

Trying to stay away from him had been a mistake, you realise, as you allow yourself to be drawn in and swallowed by him. No more resisting.

"The last few days have been unbearable." He whispers.

And with his words, you know, everything you feel, he feels too.

You unwind yourself from him, pulling back to witness his beauty and fathom his expression. His brows knit together tightly as his eyes mirror yours, searching for answers in the depths of glassy pools.

"I was terrified, after years of waiting for you that you would…" he trails off, mouth open but no words escaping.

"I would what?" You reply, stroking his tortured face, trying to ease some of his anguish.

"Cut the thread." He whispers pained, eyes looking away from yours and locked to the ground.

"How could you cut something you can't see?"

He sighs and presses his forehead to yours. "If you were sure in your mind that you wanted nothing to do with me and refused me, the thread would be severed."

You place your palms against his cheeks and bring his face up, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"These few days have been torture for me too. I thought I needed time to think things through and understand but now I see as clear as day, I need you, Seokjin. I need you like I need air."

The relieved smile that spreads across his face contradicts the desperation in his eyes as you find your lips against his, locked in a ravenous dance of love and lust. He pulls you against him, your body moulding to his perfectly, like two puzzle pieces designed to fit.

When he pulls away, you're dizzy and breathless, and yet, still craving more.

"Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you tastes like." He whispers against your mouth. Your throat contracts as you picture his teeth sinking into you, blood trickling down your neck as you're helpless to stop it and panic seizes your heart in a vice grip.

He sees the alarm in your eyes and laughs. "I was not referring to your blood, my love."

His seductive tone has your core pulsing with heavy need, an ache forming and residing there as your mouths meet again, entranced in a ravenous flutter of his pillowy lips against yours.

You want him. You need him. And he is yours for eternity, you can have him.

Night after night in his old, gothic mansion, exploring each others minds, souls and bodies, you are weightless with adoration and besotted by the way his mind works. His old fashioned language mesmerising as you listen each evening to his riveting stories and tales.

You laugh together under a blanket of firelight and warmth with soft, gentle touches across bare skin and fierce kisses trailing a heat you've never felt. And when the sun comes up and the curtains are drawn to keep the daylight at bay, the exploration continues, physically this time, your bodies forming together as one. Touches become hungry and desperate the further you delve into the never ending pit of pleasure. He worships every inch of you, hardly letting you catch your breath before his cool skin is against yours, enveloping you entirely in a euphoric haze you don't ever want to escape from.

"Do you trust me?" He says quietly, breath fanning out over your face.

You nod.

"I need words, darling." He strokes a thumb across your bottom lip and tugs it from between your teeth.

"Yes." You reply, louder than you expect.

"Alright, alright, we are not in the military, calm down."

You can hear the smirk in his voice as you slap him playfully on what you assume is his chest.

He adjusts the black blindfold that covers your eyes, moving it down slightly to completely conceal your vision.

"Are you comfortable?" He asks in your ear as he checks your rope bondaged arms, tight enough to pinch but not enough discomfort for you to refuse them.

"Yes." You arch your back, pushing your crotch forward, impatient and begging to be touched, the action causing your wrists to pull tight on the rope binding you to the ceiling.

His mouth is on your thigh instantly and it makes you gasp as he leaves light, wet kisses in a teasing trail straight to your core.

"If you want me to stop at any point, you will tell me, yes?" He whispers against your clothed sex, the hot air of his breath making you buck your hips towards him, hoping to find some friction but to no avail.

"So eager." He tuts at you, you might not be able to see but you can imagine the triumphant look on his face.

He hooks a finger inside your underwear, pulling them aside before his mouth is on you.

Your moan fills the room, bouncing off the cold, stone walls of his old house.

The way he offers up pleasure like a man possessed, his lurid moans only making your need for him grow tenfold. As you writhe before him, desperate for release but also for it not to be over so soon, he holds you firmly at your sides.

The wet sounds his mouth makes fill the otherwise silent room. His name falls from your lips repeatedly, and when you feel the sweet build up begin he slips a finger gently inside you. You gasp, surprised as he beckons your orgasm with his perfectly crooked finger, each movement coaxing it further to the edge. As his tongue moves faster than possible, the sensation breath-taking, you hang off of the woven ropes, your suspended arms making your breaths harder and your head giddy.

"Let go, my love." He whispers against you and at his words you obey, unravelling around him, pleasure pulsating through you with every pound of your heart, just for him. Every arch of your back, every curl of your toes, for him.

You feel his teeth graze your inner thigh, knowing the temptation he feels to sink them into you and taste but his refusal to do it overpowers every time.

He crawls up your body and places his face against your chest, as your hammering heart calms back to its regular beat.

"Does listening to my heart not make you thirsty?" You wonder, wishing you could see his face.

"A little but the more I listen, the more familiar I'll be with it."

"And that means there's less risk of you biting me?"

He makes a disgusted noise in his throat. "There is no risk of that anyway, I am not an infant vampire, I can control myself, especially with you." He pauses and you hear him sigh. "No, it just means that I will be more attuned to the sound of your heart. So if I lose you in a crowded place, say, I can use it to find you."

Call it naivety, or simply your rebellion against your parents and your refusal to listen to their advice or warnings, but you're still shocked that vampire senses are that impressive.

Your thoughts shatter as his wandering hands and mouth snap you back into the present, deep, hungry need rising fast from the sated pit inside you, once again. He removes your blindfold, pulling the tie with one hand, whilst the other still roams your body. He pulls away, only to remove his shirt and reveal his impressive, broad frame. His bare skin, glowing in the flicker of candle light as he fetches a burning wick and brings it over to your still bound frame.

“Have you ever felt the heat of candle wax?” He asks, his voice smooth as silk and turning your insides to jelly. You shake your head, entranced by the way he’s watching you, like you hold all the answers to life’s questions, like you are his own personal sun chasing away the darkness he stresses is residing in his hell bound soul.

“Would you like to?”

You nod. Words seeming to have escaped and rendering you incapable.

He brings the candle close to your breasts, his eyes meet yours, you see the heat blazing and baring towards you, sweeping you up as it goes and carrying you to breathless want.

He tilts the wick and as the pooled wax tips over the edge and lands on the skin on the swell of your breasts you gasp. The burn sharp and sudden but as it cools and turns hard the pleasure makes you throb for more. He obliges, hot wax searing and hardening in some of your most sensitive areas and when you think you can’t cope with not having him inside you, he obliges that too.

Always the gentleman, he clasps your hand in his on your annual evening walk, his thumb tracing loving circles on your skin. His eyes wandering to your face, not interested in the picturesque views around you.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" He asks quietly, his voice slicing through the silence like a sharpened blade.

Him. You're always thinking about him. When you're about to be forthcoming with that, you feel him stop moving, eyes far away and scouring the trees that surround you in this woodland. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end in a piercing stance as you too can feel the eyes on you, unsure of their purpose or whereabouts.

“Let us go home. Quickly.” He announces, pulling you close to him as you turn and back track the way you came, searching frantically for the opening where the moonlight can illuminate your path and any predators who may be lurking.

Who would dare prey on a vampire, that is faster and stronger than average? You knew but you were desperately hoping you were wrong.

Your feet struggle to keep up with his pace, him almost lifting you off the ground. His eyes tense and his jaw set as he remains solely focused on your route to safety. Before long you see the opening of the trees parting and just as you pass through them and take off down the hill back to his home, you glance behind you.

A shadowy figure emerges from the trees, still cloaked in darkness from the overhang of the leafy branches and your heart leaps into your throat at the sight, knowing you were being watched and followed. You can’t take your eyes off the unmoving silhouette as you know his stare follows you down the hill, burning holes into the both of you. When you find yourself wondering who could be interested in the both of you, the figure turns and walks back into the woods. Your body goes cold, blood turning to ice in your veins as your heart stills before hammering wildly against your ribs...as you watch the figure limping back into darkness. The same limp your father is plagued by.

Jin’s eyes are on your face before glancing quickly at the place your gaze is frozen to, hoping...praying that you imagined that.

You can’t bring yourself to meet his worried stare the whole way home, as he cradles you into his chest, surrounding you with his warmth, it is not enough to thaw the ice inside you or calm the frantic beat of your heart. And as his comforting arm wraps tightly around you, pinning you to him, you cling to it desperately as if you'll be able to keep him safe just by the action. If you hold him tight enough you won't lose him. If only that were true. You know more than anyone, the determination of your father, if he wants him dead, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling like barbed wire as it travels down slow and sharp. Images of your perfect Jin, wide-eyed, cold and expressionless as he lay on the floor in front of you, your father towering over him, smiling, that same sickly smile that makes your stomach churn.

You must protect Jin at all costs. You can't let anyone else, human or creature, die at the hands of your family.

Jin's library is something else. Sitting in his ornate armchair, running your hands along the smooth metal arm rests, your fingers following the intricate designs that are carved, you relax into the feather cushions.

While he was out hunting, you came to do some exploring, knowing you had a couple of hours while he was out. After pleading with him to be careful, keep his wits about him and expect the unexpected you had eventually stopped clinging onto him and let him leave the safety of your embrace. He'd showered you with kisses and whispered sweet nothings until it soothed you. You decide best to stay busy while he's gone, as to not drive yourself insane.

He had mentioned before of books written about true life accounts of vampires and other creatures and you couldn't help but wonder if your family would get a mention in their historical tales.

How wrong you were.

You gently finger the delicate, worn pages, turning through the chapter dedicated to your heritage. All thirty four pages of your family history. Paintings of each member, personal information to use against them and even a mention of when you were born.

The pages quiver in your trembling fingertips as you stare at your parents names and their sketched faces, posed as if for a wanted poster.

You read the printed words about their escapades. Having learnt about each one yourself, been subject to their bragging sitting behind your desk while they tried to teach you their hate for all things mystical, hearing words like abomination, unnatural, wrong, despicable; all to describe anything different from themselves. You'd never had it in you, the ability to hate anything that much, that you could harm it. And after years of abuse when they realised your mind was nothing like theirs, when they realised you wouldn't carry on their traditions of hunting and murdering they locked you up and tried to teach you that way. Only for it to backfire, your disdain for them growing to an immeasurable amount causing them to disown you. Since then, at the age of 18, you'd gotten as far away from them as you could. Now knowing you followed your heart around the world and back, chasing him.

"My love, what's wrong?" Jin's voice sounds into your chaotic thoughts, slicing through them and freezing them in their tracks.

You look down at your still shaking hands and feel the wet trails drift down your cheeks, warm pent up emotion leaking out and dripping onto your shirt.

He’s at your side, brushing the tears off your face, his face following your eyes to see what has you so alarmed.

“Why are you reading about this?” he takes your hands gently from the pages and pulls you to him, enveloping you in his arms and kissing your hair. “Don’t worry, those stories are from years ago, most vampire hunters have given up and returned to hiding in their shadows.”

The soothing strokes of his hand up and down your back calm you somewhat, but you shouldn’t be calmed, you need to be honest with him. The truth will come out, it’s better that it comes from you.

You gently push away and steel yourself, bracing yourself for every possible reaction, he watches you bewildered.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He stretches a hand out and you know if you take it you’ll crumble, losing your courage to explain who you truly are.

“I have something to tell you.” you sigh looking at the floor, ashamed of the words you’re about to say. “I’ve not been entirely honest.”

He steps forward, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your face up to meet his confused gaze. “You can tell me anything, dearest, you know that.”

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat and try to ignore your heart pounding in your ears, making it hard for you to focus on anything else but the incessant thrumming.

“Jin, I—” The sound of glass shattering in the distance cuts you off from your confession. Both your heads snap up towards the doorway, you take a tentative step forward but his arm comes out in front, halting your feet firmly where they are.

“No, I’ll go, it’s probably just the wind knocking over a vase, we wouldn’t want you to cut yourself now, would we?” he offers you a weak smile and exits the room, leaving nothing but a breath of a breeze in his wake.

Of course, if you’re bleeding he might find that too difficult to resist and he’s expressed time after time how much he detests the idea of drinking your blood.

Your eyes drift back towards the book. The image in front of you, your fathers wrath twisting his face into that ugly mask you know so well, only it’s not a mask at all. His true self reveals in the moments of his most despicable actions. He towers over a woman, a female vampire, the terror in her eyes as she’s staked through the heart.

You turn the page quickly, unable to look at it any longer. Your heart aches for her, for all those killed in your family’s name. Now you’re met with your family tree, pictures of members you know and some you don’t, all inked in these pages. Some names had gaping holes, almost as if they’ve been burnt from the book, the edges dark and withered. You lean in and touch, feeling the way the page has stiffened along the uneven brim.

The sound of a scream cuts into the silence, echoing up the halls to you, your head snaps up before feeling uncomfortable heat on your fingers, you glance down and see the page on fire. You snatch your hand away and watch as your fathers face disintegrates before your eyes, the paper peeling off into ashes and floating in the air around you. The fire fizzles out, leaving a hole identical to the others on the page. You frown wondering why the entire book didn’t go up in flames and why these faces have been burnt from the book. As your mind whirls you hear a grunt in the distance, realising you’ve been side tracked you rush out and run along the corridor and along the stairs, eye scanning your surroundings until you find him.

He leans into the table in the dining hall, hunched over. You rush to his side only to be stopped in your tracks by the dead body that stares back at you. The same twisted angry face, even in death; your father. Older and fatter as you last saw him and somehow still managing to look at you with such disgust even with his cold lifeless eyes. But as you stand here, staring at his demise, the part of you that you thought would grieve when you knew this moment had come greets you with silence. She is as still as you are. The only thing you feel is relief, to never see him or be frightened of him again. You tear your eyes away, part of you still apprehensive that he won’t rise up and attack, that it won’t be the end. But it is.

You touch Jin lightly on the shoulder. “What happened?” you ask to his back.

He turns slowly, supporting himself with the polished wooden surface of the expensive antique. That’s when you see it. The stake, protruding from his side, red darkening the white shirt into an alarming pattern.

Your heart sinks, falls to the pits of despair as hope leaves you, floating away out of your grasp. This can’t be it. You’ve only just found him, you can’t lose him now, not when you’re finally free of your past.

“No. No, no, no. You can’t leave me.” you help him as he sinks to the floor, cradling his face in your hands, desperation seeking his eyes for a positive solution.

“I’m afraid I have to, my love.” His mouth twists in pain as he speaks as his hands rip the stake out of his side. He pushes against it, trying to stem the blood seeping out.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, this is my fault. I should have told you who I was.” you say as tears run freely down your face, anguish twisting your heart into a suffocating and painful embrace.

He gives you a strained smile. “Dearest, I already knew.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “How?”

“I can read you so well, you’re always so guarded about your family, all it took...was a flick through a few books...for me to figure it out.” He shifts, trying to ease the pain and you place your palms over his wound, your pathetic attempt at stopping the inevitable. “What I can’t understand...is why you wouldn’t tell me? There’s nothing you could do...that could stop me loving you, especially not something so little as...your family name.” he speaks in between breaths, his words filling your heart to the brim with devotion.

“Please, don’t leave me.” You beg, knowing it’s in fate's hands now.

“I don’t want to, my love.” he lifts a trembling hand to your face, cupping it as you touch your forehead to his.

If only you were not so extraordinarily ordinary, if only you had some power of your own, you could save him, instead of sitting here helpless. If only you had something that could save him. You look down once again at his wound, a blanket of hopelessness weighing you down, the dark red trickling down into a pool on his varnished floor, growing in size by the minute.

Blood. BLOOD! You have blood. It might not heal him completely but it’s bound to help!

You stand, looking wildly for anything that could help you slice your skin.

“Darling, what are you doing? Come back to me?” he says weakly.

You spot the letter opener on the table on the far side of the room, the sharp metal glinting in the light. You race over, grabbing it and returning to him.

“What are you doing with that?” He asks, eyes full of terror. “You have to live, I will find you again in our next life, but you have to live out this one otherwise your soul will—”

You put a finger to his lips silencing him. “If you drink my blood, will it heal you?”

He looks at the blade poised above your wrist and back at your face. “I cannot, I will not drink from you.”

Your frantic mind screams inside, torment making you impatient and wild, heartbreak making you willing to try anything. “Seokjin, I swear, if you do not try to survive, I will bring you soul back from the pit of hell myself.”

He lets out a weak laugh. “As you wish, but promise me, if I can not stop drinking, you have to do whatever is necessary to survive?”

You nod as you slice across your wrist, watching the blood seep out of the opening, you hear his sharp intake of breath as you hold your arm to his mouth. His lips quickly encase you and he sucks, he takes your blood until he’s on his knees cradling your arm, devouring you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. His own personal banquet.

“Jin, enough now, you have to stop.” you say, sounding surprisingly weak.

He doesn’t respond, just carries on swallowing the life from you.

“Jin, enough.” you tap him weakly.

At your touch he pries himself off of you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, are you ok?” His panicked eyes search yours.

You nod. “That was a close one.”

He grimaces and slides an arm under your legs and the other around your back and lifts you, carrying you away from your fathers dead body, away from the blood, away from all of it.

Relief swarms you, heart fit to burst as you watch his handsome face, the colour returned, the life and mischief that sparkle in his eyes and bury your face into his neck, planting small kisses against his skin. “Thank you.” He says to you. “You saved me.”

You smile. He’s ok, he’s with you, you’re both safe. “How could I not? You would have done the same.”

“I would rather die with you, than live an eternity without you.”

You smile against his throat, his words flutter your insides. “Well, there’s only one way to make sure we spend eternity together.”

He looks down at you, searching your eyes. You’re not sure what he finds but whatever it is leads him to respond. “That’s a conversation for another night.”

154 notes · View notes

starshipsofstarlord · 4 years

Text

Blood Bags | Damon Salvatore

A handsome stranger approached you, with a charming smile that showed his perfect white teeth.

You wished to sink your teeth into his neck, but were pulled away before either you could do so or the man could reach you.

The drool had tumbled down to your chin, so you brushed it away with one hand whilst your other was dragged out of the mystic grill and onto the street.

"That was my dinner." You grumbled snatching your arm back from the imposter.

"That was stupid." Damon counteracted. His eyebrows raised as he studied your dead glare. "For starters, you hadn't compelled anyone in that bar. And I'm sure if you lost control, Matt would have staked you then and there."

Rolling your (Y/E/C) eyes, you crossed your arms. At his relaxation towards you, you attempted to speed back into the bar, but he was quicker for he was older.

"Fine, you can find me dinner then." You told the vampire. For a moment, you wished Damon was human, so that you could drain him.

"You weren't this annoying when you were human." The man complained, wishing you hadn't been turned.

"Blame your brother. He went all ripper, it's not my fault." You sulked. "Can we hurry? I'm starving."

Now it was Damon's turn to roll his eyes. If Stefan hadn't reverted back to his old ways and turned you into a monster, he would find you much more bearable.

He walked, and you followed behind him like a lost puppy. His car was on the pavement and you quickly let yourself in.

"Who are we gonna drink?" You asked excitedly. Damn heightened emotions.

Putting the keys into the ignition, Damon began driving away from the centre of town, keeping an eerie eye on your unpredictable form.

"You aren't going to be feeding from anyone." He pointed an accusing finger at you, which you smacked out of your face. "At least not until you can control yourself."

"I can control myself." You were beginning to get defensive. "Don't you remember when I saved your ass from that hunter? I kicked his ass, and I was human then."

"You're not anymore." It saddened him. Like when he was human, you didn't have a choice in the matter. You had been changed against your will leaving you with no human rights. "Just hold onto the humanity that you have left."

From experience, Damon knew how it felt when losing your humanity felt. It was one big relief, a way to clean the slate in your mind. However when it came to returning to a sane state of mind, it was the worst pain anyone could ever feel.

It was practically torture. Reminding you of all the mistakes that you had made when you had been under no obligation to care.

Stefan had lacked the control of humanity when he decided to force feed you his blood and then snap your neck. And now he was pained by the trouble he had caused. He tried avoiding looking at you as all he saw was one big mistake.

The car stopped, pulling up outside of the boarding house. You were quick to speed out of his car and into his home, he was quick on your heels, pinning you against the wall with his arm under your throat.

“\Let go of me.” You growled at Damon, letting veins roll out from beneath your eyes. But he didn’t comply with your order, instead he leant his face closer to your own

“Behave.” He snarled in your face, giving you an icy glare. “Bonnie and Elena are here and you are not going to try and eat them.”

“I learn from my own mistakes, not yours.” You told him, pushing his body away and walking into the living space where the girls were sitting, along with Stefan who grew uncomfortable from your presence.

“Hi girls.” You sat down next to them, smiling wide and inhaling the smell of their blood.

Bonnie was concerned about you. You were reckless beforehand, and loyal. But after you turned, you had become dangerous. She was always on edge around you now, her trust was failing.

“Okay.” Damon huffed, grabbing you from under your arms and picking you up. “It’s dinner time for the baby vampire.”

Elena frowned, wanting to tell Damon to be careful with you, but she soon realised that would only enhance your annoyance towards the other vampire and make Stefan feel more guilty.

“Bye!” You yelled as he half carried and half dragged you away, descending the both of you into the basement where the fridge containing the blood bags were stored.

“I’d rather be locked in that thing with someone’s foot than have to drink old blood.” Damon couldn’t resist but roll his eyes and smirk at you as he opened the top of the rectangular fridge.

“That can be arranged.” He fluttered his long eyelashes as he spoke sarcastically, reinforcing your face to pout once more. He held out a bag towards you, which you had to scowl at.

“Drink.” He slipped it into your hands, awaiting you to fulfil your appetite. The plastic was flexible in your hands, it was quite entertaining until your stomach decided to growl.

“This is human, right?” You hoped it was, you didn't want to drain Bambi or Thumper, as Damon had often joked about with Stefan.

“I picked it up myself.” He sent you a smirk, which made you bow your head. You took the plastic bit that looked like a straw, breaking off the stopper, and drank from it as you would from any fast food drink.

When the blood reached your lips, you moaned. It was good, better even. Damon frowned at your reaction, most vamps had very different reactions when trying to detox from first hand blood.

“Oh my god.” You were quick to have finished your first, and soon reached and grabbed your second.

“You are definitely Stefan’s creation.” Damon drawled on teasingly, but you paid no mind, you were too hungry. He wasn’t concerned about you finishing off their supply either, it was better than you draining strangers or friends.

“This is so good.”

“Hallelujah.” He sighed, content that you were drawing yourself from danger by taking a safer route of survival.

#damon x reader #damon salvatore x reader #damonsalvatore #damon salvatore #tvd x reader #vampire x reader #vampire diaries x reader #damon x reader imagine #damon imagine #damon oneshot #damon x reader oneshot #imagines #tvdimagine #tvd one shot #tvd imagine #tvd fanfiction

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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Order Chapter 6 (Nessian AU)

A/N: I'm sooo sorry I haven't been updated in more than two weeks. I had exams :/ Also, do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Language

1572 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smile Cassian plastered on his face didn’t reach his eyes. His brothers saw that. Feyre and Elain saw that. Mor and Amren knew that. He himself did. But they didn’t say anything. If it weren’t Feyre’s anniversary, he would’ve even gone home. He couldn’t though. He wouldn’t do anything that would hurt his family. So he stayed. Smiled. Joked. Laughed. Did everything he could to keep his mind from straying to a grey-eyed masterpiece.

Az and Rhys saw, he knew. They always seemed to realise everything about each other. Even if one of them had a minor headache, the other two would know. Tonight, however, none of them pushed him. They probably thought he wanted to be alone. But did he? Truly?

He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to be alone. That would make memories of their lunch rise. Of her shirt splattered with coffee on one day and blood on another. Of her pale form laying on his bed. Of her, enjoying his food. Of their shared jokes. He didn’t think he could take that.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to be around people either. He didn’t know if he could stay around people who laughed and teased. He didn’t know if he could laugh with them and actually mean it. He didn’t know if he could anytime soon.

Cass glanced at the clock. 3.00 a.m. He smiled. Whenever they gathered around in the living room, retiring early was totally off the table. The earliest they dispersed was four in the morning.

To his right, Rhys sighed. “It’s late,” he said, tucking Feyre close to his side. “Gotta go to bed.”

He smirked, but held back the joke on the tip of his tongue. After a chorus of goodnights, Rhys and Feyre told them they could stay here tonight if they wanted to and rose to go upstairs. Feyre laughed at something Rhys said and Cass felt a pang of sadness hit him.

Sadness… and something else. He knew he shouldn’t, but he envied the both of them. How easily they bantered and teased. How smooth their relationship was. He remembered how Feyre locked herself in the cabin after Rhys proposed. He remembered how she asked Mor not to let anyone in, especially Rhys. He sighed. He felt an amount of the jealousy dissipate. Probably Nesta would get together with him after their slight misunderstanding passed. If it did.

He got up to leave when Az stopped him. “You sure you’re going back?” Cass didn’t remember telling Az that he was going back. Then again he didn't need to. Az always saw everything. “You're not that… somber.”

Ah. Cass smiled. “I'll be fine, ” he reassured. Az still didn't let him go. “I'll send you a text once I'm home,” he tried. Az sighed.

“I'll be waiting for it.”

Cass looked at Mor, drunk and blabbering before stepping out of the house. He kept replaying that memory till he reached home, keeping his mind occupied. He was scared of what would happen if he kept his thoughts idle.

He informed Az that he reached home. He didn't know why going back home felt like preparing for a battle. It probably was a battle. Between her and his self-restraint. What was at stake here was his sanity. Cass sighed. He stepped in through the threshold and welcomed the darkness that enveloped him.

***

Stop crying like a baby, Nesta repeatedly reminded herself. Why should she cry? Nothing here was her fault. Nothing.

Not the fact that she let his charmed smiles bring her guards down. Not the fact that she felt alive when he said something stupidly funny. Certainly not the fact that she was slowly falling for him.

None of it was her fault. So why should she cry? Why should she stop herself from attending her own sister's anniversary? When it was all his fault.

She shouldn't be crying. She should be thinking about ways of exploiting his weaknesses. She should think about how she would portray him as the weak one. She should think about how she was going to make him regret everything.

But how could she make him regret it when she never regretted a second of it? She hated that this was where her thoughts went first. To scheming and plotting. She thought she changed. Did she regret her wish to be good? No. She reveled in it. No, she vowed herself, I would not scheme to make him beg. I'm not that Nesta anymore. I'll never be.

She was proud of herself. She never realised her self restraint was this good.

But apparently not good enough. Her thoughts drifted back to him. No, not him. Cassian. Cauldron, it'll take some time to get used to calling him Cassian. Or maybe Cass. Feyre and Rhysand called him that. Probably she would too. She thought about what he called her. Nes. She flushed. That stupid name did stupid things to her. She pretended she didn't like it. In fact, she loved it. Somehow, she wasn't ready to tell him that yet.

***

Nesta blinked open her eyes against the morning light. Her eyes were closed? It was morning already? Huh.

It took her some time for her eyes to adjust. She screamed at what she saw. Nesta scrambled back from the looming figure of Tomas, leering at her face.

“Nesta, Nesta, ” he said in his eerie voice. It became scarier with his sing-song tone. “My Nesta.” He paused. “Though I suppose you aren't mine anymore. You were still mine last time, you know. When you handed me over to the police. ”

She bared her teeth, opened her mouth to say something when his hand closed around her throat.

“But now, I suppose I can't call you mine anymore, can I? That reminds me. Where is your bodyguard? Or is that brute your boyfriend?” He spat the last word. His hand tightened around her neck.

“Do you know what he did to me? Your bastard. Did you know how he threatened me? Did you know that he smashed my bones, that it took me this long to heal?”

Some sort of savage satisfaction filled her. The fact that Cassian did all this… she smirked. It didn't go unnoticed by Tomas. He growled, the sound sending icy fingers ghosting down her spine. She hoped she didn't have to hear it again.

His hand around her throat pushed her farther back on the bed. He drew back, she let loose a relieved breath. A mistake.

His hand cracked on her cheek. He came infinitely closer to her, his hot, rancid breath glancing off her cheeks. His hand kept tightening around her throat and she wondered how she wasn’t dead yet. It was certainly bruised now.

“Look at you. So vulnerable. So killable. I’ve imagined how I would slit your throat. So many ideas. If only I could kill you in all the ways I imagined. But do you know what is the best way I could kill you?”

Nesta let him talk. He loved to hear himself talk. She subtly looked around her room, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. She looked back at Tomas. He wasn’t talking. Did he ask her a question?

“Tell me, Nesta. Do you know what is the best way to kill you?” Nesta shook her head, his hand pressed around her throat. Tomas smiled. She cringed mentally.

“I think the best way to kill you and make it hurt is to kill you slowly. You know what makes it better? Having that bastard watch you die. Let him watch the life seep out of you. And then I’ll kill him too.” he said and she felt the room closing in. Panic was slowly rising in her.

“Now, now,” he said. She supposed he meant to be cajoling but the effect his voice gave was the exact opposite. “There’s no need to panic. I told you I’ll kill you only when your bodyguard is there.”

He pulled out a knife. She gasped and pain erupted around her throat. Her lungs were burning.

“But darling,” he said. She whimpered. She hated this. She hated that she was vulnerable here. She hated that she couldn’t do anything when her death was slowly nearing. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Then his knife struck. Nothing hurt at first. Then, fiery pain whipped through her, beginning at her arm. She screamed. Pain. There was so much pain. She screamed so loud she pondered how the whole neighborhood didn’t hear anything.

***

Nesta gasped. Her eyes darted through her room. Nothing. No one. She looked at her arm. No pain. No scars. No blood. She touched her throat. It wasn’t sore. It wasn’t swollen. She got out of bed and looked at her mirror. No bruises. She let out a frustrated sound. It was a dream. A fucking dream. Or she supposed it was a nightmare. Still. It wasn’t real.

It was still five in the morning. Still quite early. She released a breath. She wouldn’t find a cab now but she could walk. It wasn’t that far. She fixed her hair and changed her clothes. She wasn’t going because she missed him. She just didn’t want to be vulnerable again. That’s all. She just wanted to know how to defend herself. Nothing else. So Nesta went to Cassian’s house, hoping that she’s making the right choice.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @nehemikkele @angelic-voice-1997 @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @irenethaleia @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella @ganseys-jane

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cybernaght · 4 years

Text

Guardian rewatch: episode 4

While patrolling at night in civvies, Shen Wei gets caught by Zhao Yunlan and his merry band of misfits. You’d think that he would maybe quickly morph into his black-cloaked persona, because we know that the can just transform into Hei Pao Shi, magical girl style. Instead of summoning that disguise however, he dons his glasses (a very different kind of mask, but a mask nonetheless), and turns around, bracing himself for what’s to come.

This is going to be fun.

(Spoilers for the future episodes)

Let’s look at the situation from Zhao Yunlan’s perspective. What does he really know about Shen Wei? The man is polite, but strangely intense. He is undeniably intelligent, both learned and perceptive, but he is also way too knowledgable on the topic of alien-mutant-demihuman/supernatural for a civilian. He also, as far as Zhao Yunlan knows, walked away unscathed from at least three fights, two of which should have definitely been lethal. He could fall off the roof, and not even look disheveled afterwards. After being connected with two cases, he has now been lurking at a different crime scene entirely. And with all that, Shen Wei is also courageous, kind, compassionate, and understanding. He pushes back when Yunlan gets into his space. I don’t think there is a single moment, not even in this, very soft, episode, when Zhao Yunlan does not know that there is more to Shen Wei than meets the eye. He just doesn’t want professor Shen to be the big bad, and thinking he might be one is making chief Zhao worried and confused.

Back at the SID interrogation room, Shen Wei is preparing to evade enough so that he does not have to lie too much. Thankfully, he is good at this sort of thing.

Part 1. Zhu Hong.

Zhu Hong is the first to interrogate Shen Wei, and her approach is by the book. She is impassive, but not unfriendly. She asks reasonable questions, such as “why were you so far away from your place of work and your abode in the middle of a night?” and “aren’t you a little bit too composed in face of death and spooky things for a professor?” Those are technically right things to ask. It’s exactly what should he asked in this scenario. Shen Wei, being much more of a sly bastard than he was letting on, turns it around completely and instead of answering anything plainly, talks about the Snake Tribe, implying that Zhu Hong must be a disappointment to her people.

Zhu Hong storms off. Instead of being concerned, this time Zhao Yunlan is... endeared at the power move of cosmic proportions. It’s almost like he enjoys this man’s ability to use people’s weaknesses against them.

Part 2: Chu Shuzhi

Lao Chu approached the problem of Shen Wei by trying to scare him: he brings in his brother/puppet, and pretty much ignores the man. For Shen Wei this is an easy one, which is extremely unfair. He knows Chu Shuzhi and his past, which means does not need to find an opening; he just pounces right away, commenting on how Chu’s puppet seems alive, even trying to grab at it. His willingness to exploit his knowledge of his colleague’s dark past is kind of eerie.

“You confidence and composure remind me of someone I know”, comments Chu Shuzhi. And now, now Shen Wei purses his lips. He thinks, as do the viewers, that he must be speaking of Hei Pao Shi. But then Chu Shuzhi states that that other man is much more worthy than Shen Wei, we are to understand that he is talking is about Zhao Yunlan. Shen Wei stares at the chief through the mirrored glass, noting that whoever that person is, they must be truly righteous.

Lao Chu very rarely speaks highly of his chief, so it’s nice to see some of that admiration here. If you squint, his comment could even be read as protective: he is neither deaf, nor stupid, and Zhao Yunlan must talk about Shen Wei a lot.

Part 3: Zhao Yunlan

Zhao Yunlan does not try to intimidate, pressure, or follow any reasonable protocol. Instead, he just asks Shen Wei to be honest with him, and say whether there is a connection between him and the cases. Shen Wei startles at this, his eyes going big and vulnerable, and does, in fact, tell him the truth. Well. Sort of the truth. It’s closer to the truth than it is to a lie. It’s complicated.

It’s hard to say for sure whether this perfect kicked puppy expression is an act. I, for one, choose to believe that he just sometimes cannot control his face when he’s in the vicinity of the man who will become his Kunlun.

Zhao Yunlan counts his eyelashes, and lets him go. Just like that. No surveillance, no further questions. Shen Wei is just free to leave.

The following day marks Guo Changcheng and Chu Shizhu being on the case together for the first time.

It’s not remarkable, apart from being the first very tiny step from the least likely working duo to the most important people in each other’s lives. They would not get along for a while, however. It will take time for Guo Changcheng to find resilience through his weaknesses, and for Chu Shizhu to start admiring this young man’s ability to throw himself into danger he cannot possible handle.

As this happens, we get to meet a righteous youth which is Lin Yusen. He lost the girl he likes to the face snatcher, and is prepared to do a lot of stupid things to avenge her. He’s noble, brave, extremely reckless, and a bit of an idiot, all of which are characteristics which should actually make him very suitable for the SID. I believe Zhao Yunlan when he agrees to take the boy on board after graduation. It’s a shame that he needed to die to create a plot device.

Zhao Yunlan and Lin Yusen run into Shen Wei. Or rather, Shen Wei plants himself right next to SID, in order to calmly ask to tag along. He does not actually have a good reason to do so, I don’t think. It makes more sense to get involved as Hei Pao Shi than as Shen Wei, especially if he wants to keep pretending that he is a normal human.

What Zhao Yunlan should so is keep the man he arrested the night before very far away from the case. What Zhao Yunlan does do is express vague concern for Shen Wei’s well-being, and then agree for him to join in, because, apparently, when Shen Wei is determined, there is no way to refuse him. Yunlan’s got it really really bad for this man, and it shows. He is rewarded with one of Shen Wei’s little secret smiles.

Okay, now, can we talk about how they are literally touching as they walk by each other?

I thought maybe this was a forced perspective thing, but no, they walk perfectly side by side, and so close their arms are rubbing together as they do so. It’s been a very long time since I have walked with anyone closely side by side (2021 feels), but I’m pretty certain you can’t achieve this accidentally.

They find the victim who is not the victim, and Shen Wei is jumped by the perpetrator who is not the victim’s boyfriend, getting scratched hard enough to draw blood. Unfortunately, by the time Zhao Yunlan shows up, his skin has already repaired itself, leaving Shen Wei to pretend like the blood, crusting over what clearly used to be scratches, is not his.

You’d think that while spending several decades pretending to be human you would learn to not accidentally heal yourself.

The perfect “what the hell are you?” face.

Instead of addressing it, Zhao Yunlan moves to shout his head off at Lin Yusen for getting involved, even though he was not the one who got attacked. I love the double standards at play. Shen Wei, in his mild, compassionate way, references the youth of his own name, reminding him to rely on other people for strength. I am sure this is a literary reference, incomprehensible to a foreign viewer; it sounds insightful and beautiful.

As with many things, Shen Wei will learn a wrong lesson from this in the end, hyper focusing on his name, rather than remembering that going at it alone can get you killed. Shen Wei’s special power is learning, apart from when he is learning the wrong thing.*

As the two men proceed to interrogate the woman, and Zhao Yunlan figures out that the victim is not the victim via the misogyny: he does not think that a young woman could fend off an attack, or that she would be comfortable strolling around the day after. He makes his conclusions in front of slender Shen Wei, who has been attacked by things and people seemingly stronger than him and shook them off with ease.

The thing is, Zhao Yunlan is not an idiot, he remembers that Shen Wei should have died on him at least twice, and is staring intently at where blood should definitely be soaking Shen Wei’s jumper. He is not really letting him off the hook for this. But he must see as plainly as we do that they work well together, and he makes a clear, deliberate decision to trust the man either way. He proceeds to discuss the case with Shen Wei, who also concludes that the victim is not the victim.

It’s lovely to see SID squad in action, staking out the perpetrators. Zhu Hong is set up as bait, with Da Qing and Chu Shuzhi having her back, and Lin Jing being their eye in the sky. There is a strange anti-yashou thing happening with the team however, which I find quite hard to understand. Lin Jing is giggling at her applying makeup, Da Qing saying that he is excited to see her pretending to be a lady. Come on now, guys, I know she is probably eating raw meet in her spare time, but she is also a beautiful, elegant young woman. I mean, look at her!

While the team is staking out the Undergrounder perpetrator, their boss is having a lovely evening stroll through the park with Shen Wei, talking about merits of intimate friendship. We can assume that they spent the rest of the day together.

“Does Wei in your name have a deeper meaning?”

“It does. Someone very important gave me that name.”

I assume Zhao Yunlan hears the same thing in this as every sane person would: “my parents gave this name to me when I was born”, as opposed to “the love of my life who looks like you, sounds like you, acts like you, and has a thing for candy, gave me this name ten thousand years ago”. So, Yunlan starts talking about his family, makes a comment that his mom would have loved Shen Wei. The conversation is quiet and honest. There is some flirting, naturally, but there is no digging and no games; just the two men getting to know each other.

Zhu Jiu ruins their stroll, and at the same time the face stealer and her boyfriend, Jia Hui, walk around the surveillance, capturing Zhu Hong. The team then does not call their Chief, presumably because they don’t want to disrupt his date.

Shen Wei’s solution to throwing Zhao Yunlan off his scent is pretending to be hurt once more: this time drawing blood by prickling his finger on one of Lin Yusen’s trap. While it will not work in the long run, Shen Wei breathes a sigh of relief at Yunlan’s overreaction, and agrees to go to A&E with him to get a tetanus shot, as if it’s a thing people do every time they have a minor cut.

We then meet Wang Xianyang pre-evil, and his pregnant wife pre-dead. Good times.

Guardian’s insistence on making Zhu Hong a damsel in distress is slightly grating. She should not need help to be rescued: she is not a human, and she shown to have a number of powers in this very episode. I almost wish her reliance one Zhao Yunlan could be read as an excuse to be close: I would prefer that to her being side-lined because she happens to be a woman.

If those recaps continue, I will start focusing more on fight sequences when they happen, because one of my jobs is in stage violence. This episode, we only get one fight, however, and it’s only four moves long. It’s more of a capture, really: Chu Shuzhi blocks a left hook and puts Jia Hui’s arm in a lock, then does the same thing on the other side. We are to understand that Jia Hui never stood a chance here. This lock would have looked better and more vicious if the elbow was more bent, putting the hand higher on the back. Also, continuity, what continuity?

Shen Wei, who probably teleported out of the A&E, goes back to patrol the streets against Zhu Jiu, still in civvies, because being caught once was not enough for him. After a brief stand-off, he fails to capture the baby goth villain, who taunts Shen Wei with his only visible weakness: Zhao Yunlan.

Being distracted thus, Hei Pao Shi does not arrive in time to save Lin Yunsen, who runs in to save the SID team from the face stealer about to take them all out. On top of that, Hei Pao Shi also informs Zhao Yunlan that he’s taking the young man’s body away with the perpetrators, citing the peace treaty violation on his part. Needless to say, Yunlan is actually incredibly angry and upset at this turn of events, even though he probably could have summoned Hei Pao Shi if he wanted to; and must know that the Envoy is just doing his literal job. As he is storming off, Shen Wei stares at his back with naked longing.

Zhao Yunlan does not know that Shen Wei took Lin Yunsen away to spare his feelings as the young man was forcefully turned into a mixed-energy bomb. This episode is when we discover that being mixing dark and light energies together leads to adverse effects for the carrier, resulting in a spectacular explosion. Shen Wei will use this knowledge in the future in ways I don’t care to remind myself of. That said, I do like is well-structured narratives, with a decent amount of foreshadowing, and elements are set-up in good time, so it’s satisfying - in an abstract, detached, sort of way - to see that that particular plot device is already present in the story.

At the end, we are treated to another sneak preview of the past: this time with the naming scene. Shen Wei vouches to keep his promise he once gave Kunlun to bravely march onwards, despite everything, and chooses to step aside. For now.

(By which I mean while he will temporarily stop inviting himself along to solve cases with Zhao Yunlan, he will still get an apartment across the hall from the other man to better stalk him.)

I would also like to note with a hint of sadness that the first onslaught of dubbing glitches happens this episode. I thought those would not start until later in the show.

Next up, Episode 5: The Butler Did Not Do It

*I don’t actually remember if his special power being learning is something explicitly stated in the show canon, or if I have just absorbed this through fandom osmosis.

#guardian #zhao yunlan #shen wei #weilan #recap #rewatch

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owlespresso · 4 years

Note

Glad your requests are open again! Could I get some Astarion with an s/o that is into biting?

Ask and ye shall receive! If you like this work and would like to support me and what I do, consider taking a peek at my ko-fi, which can be found here: https://ko-fi.com/owlespresso

The grass is dulled with the first touches of winter. It’s only a week into the lifeless season, yet the temperatures have taken a nose dive. Which is why you count your blessings now, staring up at the grey skies, back nestled against the dying foliage.

It’s going to snow, soon. The eerie swarm of clouds that hangs above the forest tells you as much, but you remain where you are, taking comfort in knowing shelter is only a few steps away.

It would be a shame to move when Astarion is seated right next to you, having plopped himself down of his own accord. You like to think it’s significant progress, given the open disdain he didn’t hesitate to show you during the first days of your travels.

He’s been rattling on about the last battle you found yourselves in, complaining at the sudden change in weather, and theorizing the parasite that’s nestled snuggly within your brains. Just jumping from one topic to the next as though he’s been bottling all these thoughts up, waiting to dump them on the first person he can trust to listen.

You have to wonder if you’re the closest person to him among your little group. Does he seek you out more than he seeks the others, or are you just imagining it? Just hoping for it?

You wrinkle your nose and try not to think about it, feel a flush of relief when he at last quiets.

Not that you ever want him to stop speaking, not with that velvety voice of his. But you try to keep your thoughts distinctly away from your looming, seemingly inevitable fate. You try to preserve and fan the flames of your hope.

“Do you… have you ever gotten tired of it, yet?” you ask him, staring up at the harsh, grey skies. Winter’s bitter tinge has long crept across your skin and hooked its claws into your bones, even through your thick sleeves. “All of the traveling? And relying on our companions?

Astarion gives a small huff. His gaze remains stuck on the forest that stands on the other side of the brook. Its branches have been picked clean by the changing seasons. He’s thinking, you realize, about his next meal. About the next forest creature he will descend upon with teeth and daggers, about the next unsuspecting morsel he’ll prey upon.

The thought makes you swallow. Not out out fear, but something distinctly different. A warm, gooey feeling you don’t want to think about.

“Please. This is the freest I’ve been in the last two hundred years. I will gladly take the wretched swamps and mile long treks over Cazador’s dingy dungeons. Any day. In a heartbeat—someone else’s, of course, given the state of mine.”

His gaze sweeps from the cluttered horizon to sweep up and down your lounged body, lingering on the swell of your hips, the round of your chest. He studies with an open fascination that makes you want to curl up and away from him. It’s a keen intrigue, something deep-seated and predatory. Even after traveling with him for two weeks, you’re still defenseless against his low, crooning voice and hooded, sultry gazes.

“Mm,” you hum in acknowledgement, because you’re not sure what else to say to that.

“As for our merry little band of miscreants… you depend on me as much as I depend on you. It’s an even trade, as far as I’m concerned,” he waves off your concerns with little to no concern, bringing a knee to his chest whilst the other leg remains stretched out in front of him. “And if you’re worried about my personal opinion on you all as individuals... well, let’s just say I have my favorites.”

“And where do I fall on your list?” you can’t help but ask, genuinely curious rather than teasing. You can see your breath in the air, your words coming out as a frosty plume. They come out without thinking, and for a brief moment you nearly panic. Heat rises to your cheeks as you struggle for the words to walk it back.

“Oh, you? Well, you’re my favorite,” he replies with smooth ease, his voice dipping down to a sultry purr. The grass shifts and crunches underneath him as he shifts to lean over you, fixing you with a wry smile. All too soon, you’re reminded of a few nights ago, him hunched over your neck, eyes alight like a predator’s. The now nearly faded marks on your throb with the memory. His handsome profile, lit softly by firelight.

“Really?”

“Of course. No one else in our merry little band has offered themselves up on a silver platter. I’m quite sure they would balk at the idea of feeding a vampire. I can think of a few who would come at me with a stake as soon as I revealed my true nature,” he sighs languidly, a hand reaching down to cup your cheek. His palm is cold against your skin, but your breath hitches and you shut your eyes, allowing him to nudge your face to the side, revealing the stretch of your neck to him. “So pliant, too. Though I would prefer to think this aspect of your personality is reserved for me and me alone.”

“Well, I’m not going to roll over for just anyone,” you assure him with a roll of your eyes. There’s no bite in your voice, but you feel a roll of warm anticipation hit your gut when he fixes you with a keen gaze.

“Consider me flattered. And most grateful. Might I encroach upon your kindness just a tad more this afternoon?” His eyes are hooded, his smile widening because he knows you’ll agree. You exhale shakily.

“Go ahead,” you shut your eyes, brace yourself for the hook of his teeth into your waiting flesh.

“You are a delight,” he flatters shamelessly. His breath brushes against your skin, prompting goosebumps to raise along your arms. Your heart thump, thump, thumps against your ribs like a bird’s wings against the bars of its gilded cage.

He can hear it, his eyelids lowering, smile widening as he ghosts lips across your neck. He explores slowly, drifting slow kisses from the crook of your shoulder to the curve of your jaw. Each osculation is more tender than the last, but you still sigh and shudder, shutting your eyes because you cannot bear to see his smug expression.

As cool as his skin is, it’s still warmer than the wintry air that surrounds you. One of your hands tentatively rests on his shoulder, the other rests at your side. He’s incorrigibly good with both hands and lips, fingers of his unoccupied hand giving your right breast a faint squeeze, earning a surprised splutter.

You don’t realize your flustered expression has tinged with fear until he begins to croon at you.

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, darling,” he soothes, and voice curling with mock sympathy. “You’re doing so well, so good for me.”

Oh, fuck. That only makes it worse. Your cunt throbs, your clothes suddenly feeling too thick, too heavy. The mere anticipation of the bite is enough to make you wet, panties sticking to the plush give of your folds. The renewed shame of it mixes with heady arousal, creating a cocktail of sensations that leaves you squirming underneath him before he’s even taken a bite.

“You know, I’m beginning to think these little whines and trembles of your are from more than just trepidation. Am I correct in that assumption?” Goddamn him and his blabbering mouth. Your eyes snap open to fix him with a glare, but he only smiles wider.

All you can do is concentrate on keeping breathing even as the very tips of his fangs drag over your skin. Each tender kiss and caress feels like it stretches beyond the span of mere moments, slipping into minutes and maybe hours. Your palms sweat, your eyes stare up at the dulled sky.

Slowly, he journeys from the line of your jaw to the middle of your neck. Once, twice, three times he grazes his sharp fangs over the same spot. Your fingers curl tight into the fabric of his jacket, thighs pressing together—

He bites. Your fingers twitch and your grip tightens, helplessly curled in the fabric of his stupid fancy shirt. The sheer cold of his fangs presses deep into the flesh of your throat, his efforts rewarded with a gush of fresh, sweet blood. This is the part you like the most, you think. The rush of the ambrosia connects the two of you in a way you’ve never experienced with another person before. He drinks deep, enjoys your very being, your very essence—

If you were less drunk off the pleasure of being torn into so intimately, perhaps you’d wonder if this is the only reason why he claims to enjoy your company so much.

But a second squeeze to your breast robs you of that coherency. Black spots are already beginning to swim at the edges of your vision, consciousness growing hazy as he continues to indulge, gorging himself on you entirely.

“Astarion,” you find it in yourself to rasp, feebly tugging on his shirt as you feel yourself beginning to drift away, into an inky, vast blankness. You’re not sure if he’s going to stop, you realize, but what frightens you more is that you don’t entirely mind.

The thought is shoved to the very recesses of your mind as he blessedly pulls away with a gasp. His lips are stained red, and your gaze glues to his tongue as it peeks out and swipes over them. Slowly. As though he’s savoring your flavor as much as he can before he gulps the final droplets down.

“Delectable,” he sighs, hair tousled, pupils dilated. “Are you alright, darling?”

“Feel a little funny. Nothing a snack and a nap can’t fix,” you mumble. Your arms feel like jelly as you press them to the frosted earth, feebly attempting to lift yourself off the ground.

“Ah, ah. There’s no need to push yourself,” he tuts, pushing himself to his feet with nimble ease. A stray beam of sun dips through the clouds. It casts his hair and pale skin in a light most vibrant. Looking up at him like this allows you to admire the strong cut of his jaw, the fine arch of his nose. You’re so dazed by both fatigue and his beauty that you almost forget to take the hand he offers you.

You take it. His fingers are cold, but warmer than the chilled air around you. A harsh contrast to the warm, near fervent gaze he fixes on you as you stand beside him.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #writing #Anonymous

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wild-battlebond · 3 years

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Digimon Xros Wars: Hunters Ep25 liveblog

The last episode!!!! Tagiru and Gumdramon's final silly moment!!!!!

NOOOOO RYOUMA'S PARTNER WAS THE EVIL ONE........ even right up to the end, there's digimon feeding off the hearts of humans & betraying the mutual strength and protection they've given each other by partnering up

oh so the true quartzmon is all about body horror huh. and it is actually kinda freaky, too... well-executed.

so since quartzmon absorbed the data of the Digimon that Ryouma fought via hollowing out Astamon and hiding in there... so Ryouma probably was the hunter who mistreated MetallifeKuwagamon, but it was only kinda his fault because he was being manipulated

and Ryouma wanted to be like Taiki and be strong so much that he didn't even notice he was being manipulated...

the animation right now reminds me of the style of late-series og xros wars, which is a very very bad omen. two xros wars finales sullied by the same shitty key animator

i was right tho, not only has Tagiru taken on the mantle of the hunter who will take down Quartzmon, but he has also taken Taiki's place as the 6th hero

the brave snatcher is unexpectedly heavy, just like the burden of the role of a "hero"

oh yeah and Taiki gave Tagiru his goggles and that's also significant. i just forgot since Tagiru normally wears goggles anyways

well the animation is normal now so maybe it's fine

also just noticed that Quartzmon has a clock motif. and, of course, the majority of modern watches and clocks use a piece of vibrating quartz to keep time...

'i have the data of your teammates. your rival. and this old man you don't really care about.'

Quartzmon absorbing the data of others but still retaining their consciousnesses + the way Tagiru and Arresterdramon are being digested, brings back to mind the ill xrosses that the antagonists would do in og Xros Wars where'd they'd absorb data like this

quartzmon's roots look like the ps2 home menu

it's that forme change again! again it feels like the context surrounding it was cut for time, but it's clear that it's activated by the bonds between him and Tagiru!

AND tagiru chikara is being played as an insert song... awesome

AND HE'S XROSSING ARRESTERDRAMON SUPERIOR WITH THE REMAINS OF THE BRAVE SNATCHER!!

and similar to those past enemy xrosses, the data of his friends is able to still exercise their own will and help defeat Quartzmon from within

& the way the song cuts out as they enter the eerie calmness of where its roots are, the eye of the storm... it's good editing

and they won and the world is fine hooray

it turned into an egg...

and they're in the void

aw man all the digimon are leaving & it doesn't even have the bittersweet "we'll keep improving our respective worlds" feeling as the og xros wars finale, this is just regular sad...

NOOO I DON'T WANT THESE TWO TO HAVE TO SAY GOODBYE......

peace has returned and we can finally play basketball again NO TAGIRU LOOKS SAD

YES REUNION

the. the old watchmaker, was the reincarnation of... Bagramon???? i was kinda wondering how they were justifying xros loaders being handed out willy-nilly since it was established bagramon made them, but i wasn't expecting this.... i was just accepting the discrepancy at face value...

IT WAS A FAKE OUT???

NOT A FAKE OUT???

so some stray Digimon got stuck in the real world

well that's good im glad they can stay together in our hearts and the non-existent post-story

right, so, the closing thoughts… well, i’ll probably elaborate on this more in separate posts, but… i liked this show lot! it may not have nearly as much Plot as most Digimon series do, and it mostly sucks at being a sequel to Xros Wars, but I’m always a fan of the “Digimon are causing trouble in the real world” type of concept and Hunters was no exception! the silly-but-high stakes generally works pretty well, they had fun generic cartoon plots like Restaurant Wars and Diving for Treasure, and I think that Tagiru and Gumdramon’s high energy did actually hold things together! i don’t think the series would have been able to pull off that same kind of “fun” feeling if Taiki had still been the protagonist, for example. i’m not sure if it’s what one might call a ‘good’ show, but I really enjoyed it and had fun watching it, and that’s what matters most!

this is the last liveblog I’ll be doing in this format (i’ve grown to prefer watching episodes in full & then talking about them afterwards), so thanks very much for reading this far!

#digimon #xros wars #hunters #dmxw79 #dmxwH25 #fiftytenlive #xwh liveblog 21/22

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ramblingguy54 · 4 years

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Escape From The Impossibin!: An Exercise Of Trust & Hope.

So, I was predicting for this episode to have Della & Louie bonding time together, which there were cool moments with them to be sure. However, what I really liked about today’s story was how it focused on the aftermath of FOWL’s reveal to still be very much alive to Scrooge’s horror and Beakly’s greatly underlying concern. A couple of days ago before Impossibin premiered today, I chatted with some others on Discord about what this episode’s story would explore for its overall message, which the more I thought about, the more I leaned on the idea it would be centered around the notion of trust. Let’s Get Dangerous had a consistent theme of deceitful liars being revealed who weren’t whom they appeared to be, as seen with Taurus Bulba vs Drake Mallard & Bradford’s true nature being known to Scrooge at that hour special’s ending.

Escape From The Impossibin is all about confronting the growing tension that’s become a threat to a content family lineage of adventurers, who now have to defend everything they stand for in their legacy, once again. That’s something I’ve always appreciated about DuckTales is even when it doesn’t entirely match my predictions, it finds other new ways to surprise me for what it can do. Della & Louie didn’t necessarily get the bonding time I had hoped for, which did admittedly disappoint me, but they did a serve a purpose in their own right that I’ll get to later. Anyways, the spotlight is on the older mentor figures, Scrooge McDuck and Bentina Beakly, who are all too familiar in dealing with FOWL’s antagonism before in Season 1′s episode, The Confidential Case Files Of Agent 22, that especially applies to Beakly’s past in fighting them as an agent of SHUSH for very much longer compared to Scrooge. With how much is at stake you’d very much expect there to be old feelings being drudged up, regarding Scrooge’s trust and respect for Bradford, as well as Beakly’s strict over protective nature with Webby to keep her safe from losing that optimism that makes her stand out as a beacon of hope to inspire others, which they do. FOWL isn’t like Magica or Lunaris who want to make themselves known flat out to the world with their egos. They’re very cunning and cold blooded with going about executing their plans for control of the Earth. Particularly, Bradford is the serious threat most of all because he’s the brains of this outfit giving precision in each order to those under his command. Combine Bradford’s knowledge with the muscle of Steelbeak, Rockerduck’s underhanded scheming, Gandra Dee’s scientific intellect, Black Heron’s lust for more power, and Phantom Blot’s ability to absorb all kinds of magic that gives the McDucks’ a severe scenario they’ve never faced. FOWL is the right combination to put an end to Scrooge’s adventuring because Bradford has kept a close eye on him for so many years. Bradford has seen plenty of Scrooge at his total best and worst most of all. He’s studied upon every detail of Scrooge’s life, for who knows how many years, and is finally putting all of it to use against him, where we get to see the extent of just how well Bradford can read every one of his moves. Lunaris’ intellect was simply a figurative puddle compared to what Bradford managed to accomplish with his high IQ.

The scary thing is Scrooge knows this reality himself, too.

That’s one of my favorite elements of Impossibin’s purpose. We get to see Scrooge seriously doubt his abilities. In episodes, like The Most Dangerous Game Night and The 87 Cents Solution, Scrooge has always prided himself in being a very sharp individual who could see every angle and any detail that others couldn’t. Bradford, on the other hand, rivals Scrooge’s thinking that puts an eerie perspective on things for the old man. Scrooge always thought to be one step ahead of the game, but then realizes that someone who’s been by his side for so very long played him like a fiddle all those years. Who’s to say Scrooge isn’t probably thinking back on stuff such as Bradford shutting down his rescue operation for Della, controlling his money usage, letting Louie hang around Bradford in The Richest Duck In The World, finalizing Gyro’s inventions, etc? Scrooge realizes he’s had a dangerous character around the family manor all those years, which makes him doubt his ability to trust himself in protecting everything that he holds importantly in life. Scrooge isn’t just thinking he’s been fooled, he’s doubting every aspect of what made him competent to begin with. Doesn’t help among this moment of self reflection Bradford is there to further rub in that harsh reality of how much he knows about Scrooge.

This moment gave me chills because it completely put a spin upon the story’s concept. I figured that FOWL would hack Scrooge’s security system, with help from Gandra Dee’s abilities, and I’m glad it went this route, since it shows how dangerous things are this time. They’re not even safe within the confines of their own manor anymore, considering Bradford knows every nook and cranny of it. Scrooge thought only he knew the security system’s password, given its based on the amount of all money in his money bin, but Bradford covered that crucial detail, too. Bradford isn’t leaving any loose ends toward Scrooge in how he’ll go about using any little thing against him for future reference. That’s what makes the stakes higher here than compared to Lunaris’ invasion. This is a much more personal story between a clash of ideals with Adventuring vs Control. Lunaris lacked that emotional connection here Bradford is making Scrooge have to face that adds another layer of tension to this situation. Bradford wants Scrooge to know, “I have control over you. There is nothing you know that I’ve already figured out about yourself.”, and going about hacking the robotic version of himself is the best way to send home that message to him. It can also be interpreted as symbolism for Scrooge fighting his own insecurities when Bradford takes control of the robot to start attacking.

I need you, the two most cunning individuals I know, to spot any weaknesses.

Now, Della & Louie did serve a big purpose, despite the Plot A point focusing greatly on Scrooge’s existential dilemma, for they were there to remind Scrooge of just how much of an impact his life style has had on them. Della & Louie’s teamwork together throughout the episode is a perfect way to give Scrooge a reality check reminder for how skilled they are as adventurous fighters against unknown dangers. After all, Scrooge passed on his skills to Della, who’d later pass down her intellectual skills to him, too. Again, tying into the whole theme of legacy and what not about how much family can bring out the best in each other. If it wasn’t for what Scrooge had taught them, then he wouldn’t have been saved by Louie’s defining act of being a badass, by willingly diving into the pile of money, which got hit by a gravity changing rosa rune from the robot and ended up crushing it. I wanted to see more mature Louie, so him lifting Scrooge up about how much pride he has in the family lineage was a great nod to it. That in turn, allowed Scrooge to remember why he and their family are strong together. You know, after recent events that have happened in my life, seeing legacy be explored in DuckTales Season 3 means a lot to me now more than ever.

As for Beakly’s B Plot, in terms of how it ties into a neat bow with Scrooge’s story, shows how intense she’s getting at the notion of eventually facing FOWL again. Honestly, I’m not surprised if she’s getting flashbacks of whatever painful or traumatic events happened to her in those Agent 22 days. I mean, for God’s sake, she tells Webby to straight up incapacitate Huey, who was already so scared. Something Webby refuses to agree with as the best course of training methods to better prepare against the greater threat. Beakly’s characterization has always fascinated me with how well she guards her vulnerability, kind of like Goldie in a way, but the difference here is outta great concern for others rather than herself. My mind can’t stop thinking about this scene, as there could most likely be underlying context for why Beakly is getting so worked up over this training. It seems Beakly is carrying a tremendous weight on her shoulders, probably some heavy angst, that it looks like she wants to say, but can’t because of bigger story reasons we’ll find out later in Season 3′s final batch of episodes. Special mention to Donald Duck putting his foot down on Beakly’s very intense training session. Donald knows the trials and errors of what it means to be a parent. He was once very overly protective of Huey, Dewey, and Louie, but learned to let them experience the world for what it is and not hold them back, so I liked how it ties into Beakly’s dilemma of trying to protect Webby from FOWL’s heartless nature.

Beakly’s plot may have not gotten much focus, but it did a very good job setting up more angst to come between her and Webby’s relationship. Things are gonna get very complicated between them when more things come to light. I’m keeping an eye on Huey’s line specifically. When he said, “The one thing we know for sure is that we trust each other, right?”, Beakly did want to bring herself to apologize of course, but I also think she was close to wanting to confess something else to Webby, too. I’m expecting this moment to be called back to when stuff hits the fan with Beakly’s past and whatever Webby’s origins are.

Escape From the Impossibin may have unsettling stuff lurking around the corner with how FOWL managed to distract them with the security system, so they could steal away every missing mystery the family has found so far, but there’s a glimmer of light in all of that darkness. A light that is a reminder of what makes the McDuck family an unstoppable force of trust, hope, and most importantly love. Frank said that things were gonna start going into overdrive with FOWL’s battle against McDuck and he wasn’t kidding around. I’m so overjoyed were getting more episodes in November after this episode finished because that would’ve been a painful wait. Season 3 is gonna start giving things it built up a big pay off and I’m totally here for that!

#ducktales spoilers #escape from the impossibin!#ducktales season 3 #scrooge mcduck #bentina beakly #webby vanderquack #ducktales 2017 #della duck #louie duck

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particularemu · 5 years

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King of Hearts | A Hwang Hyunjin Scenario

Request: “I love your works! And I wanted to ask you and my top two other writers (and more if you can rally that many) @and @Maaaaaatryoshka0325 to maybe make a scenario with a member being in a gang and they protect the reader and get hurt? Lots of aftercare! But here’s the catch: you all write it separately, I’m curious to see how people handle the scenario differently! Maybe even do other members each?! Whatever you guys can decide if you’re up for it! Fighting! 😃”

Warnings: Mentions violence, guns, someone getting shot, gambling.

Word Count: 5813

Other Members: Bang Chan: @thecarat-top

Lee Minho: @maaaaaatryoshka0325

Seo Changbin: @backhugsforhyunjin

Lee Felix: @honeyfelix

Kim Seungmin: @backhugsforhyunjin

Yang Jeongin: @lixiescheesestick

Author’s Note: I don’t know how to play poker, but I tried to learn for this fic. Idk if I got the details wrong, but if I did whoops I apologize.

Read my bby @jisungsjheekies‘s fic: Eerie Night

“Hey, you ready?” Hyunjin slowly opened the door, a bright smile taking over his features when he saw you in your dress. “Wow… You look amazing.” He closed the distance between you two, placing his hands on your waist as you glanced at yourself in the body-length mirror.

It felt a bit awkward being in such a fancy gown, but you enjoyed getting all dressed up for tonight.

Anyone off the streets would think you were going to a ball or a fancy business party.

No… You weren’t going anywhere like that. You and Hyunjin were headed to The Black Spade — one of the biggest, baddest casinos in the upper west side of the city. The casino was run by the Young Bastards — an oddly successful group of 20-year-old somethings who’ve crossed the line with Stray Kids.

Originally Hyunjin was the only one who was supposed to go, but an incident at The Black Spade last month put himself at risk.

See... a man who plays the game of Poker has a 40% chance of winning. A man who plays Poker and wins 100% of the time? That’ll alert every gang member watching the floor. Unfortunately, this happened to your boyfriend, so heading back to rob the owner of The Black Spade, was nearly impossible, unless he could provide a distraction.

So here you were, a distraction indeed, dressed in a tight, sparkly dress, ready to help your boyfriend win several poker games.

Hwang Hyunjin was quite the anomaly. The man was beautiful and charismatic, but he was also sensitive. People are quick to trust him. Little would they know that Hyunjin was the biggest high-stakes gambler the Stray Kids Gang had to offer.

The man has won millions of dollars against casinos run by rival gangs. Not only does he play the game — he wins every single time. Hyunjin doesn’t win out of talent — no he’s gotten really good at sleight of hand throughout the years, so he has several tricks up his sleeve.

Usually, Hyunjin can get away with playing a game and leaving the casino, but last week someone taunted him into staying for three games. To keep from losing any money, Hyunjin had to win all three. He left just before a bunch of gang members came to take him to the leader of the Young Bastards.

The leader of Stray Kids, Bang Chan, wanted to get them back. The best and least violent way to destroy a gang? Rob them blind. The easiest way to do that would be sending Hyunjin to The Black Spade once more, but Chan couldn’t risk losing one of his best members. Besides… Hyunjin was practically family.

Chan originally asked if you’d be interested in learning to cheat at Poker, so you could go in Hyunjin’s place, but your boyfriend wouldn’t allow you to go alone. So the three of you compromised. You’d go with Hyunjin and disguise his sleight of hand so the gang members wouldn’t be tipped off.

It took weeks of learning crazy tricks for you to effectively cheat at a game of Poker. It took another week to get used to doing sleight of hand with Hyunjin handing you the cards down his sleeve. Eventually, the two of you were like clockwork. He’d slip a card down his sleeve and go hold your hand. You’d take the card as it slid into your hand, and tuck it in your garter. One tap meant swap the card. Two taps meant you needed to hand the hidden card back to Hyunjin. Codeword: Dinner. If shit went south, and people started to notice you cheating, you guys planned to bail with the simple phrase, “Babe, I’m getting hungry. We should go to dinner.”

“Are you ready?” Hyunjin gently kissed your cheek. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” Your hand rested on his cheek as you guided his head to rest on yours. “I’m glad you’re going with me.”

“There’s no way I’d let you go there by yourself.” Hyunjin kissed your forehead. “Do you have your knife?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your dress, showing off the holster strapped to your upper thigh, a knife securely strapped in.

“Don’t be afraid to use that if someone gets close to you.” Hyunjin’s arm snaked around your waist. “Don’t question it, just point and stab.”

You giggled at Hyunjin’s choice of words. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Hyunjin led you outside to a fancy-looking Limousine. He opened the door and gestured inside, allowing you to slide in. Your eyes widened at the amazing interior. The Limo was fully equipped with neon lights, velvet seats, bottles of champagne, crystal glasses, and even a television.

“Okay, this is cool.” You beamed as Hyunjin slid next to you.

“Well, I figured since I’m asking my girlfriend to risk her life for me, we’d travel in style.” He giggled when you lightly smacked his shoulder.

“You’re so cheesy.” You slid closer to him and leaned your head against his chest, smiling when he slung his arm over your shoulders. “If we were here under different circumstances I’d say we should try fucking in here.”

“Please don’t.” You could hear Felix’s voice from behind the partition.

Lee Felix was the best getaway driver in the city. It was comforting to know you had someone so talented behind the wheel, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s possible to lose a tail in a limo.

“I said under different circumstances Lix.” You chuckled. “If you’re going to eavesdrop, you might as well listen.”

“I couldn’t risk it.” Felix laughed. “We all know you guys go at it like rabbits.”

Your face flushed as you sunk back in Hyunjin’s side, ego officially defeated at Felix’s words. “Who heard?”

“You guys are about as subtle as an air horn.” Felix giggled. “Like seriously? We all know you’re going to fuck when you ask Hyunjin to come open a jar of pickles.”

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed slightly as he laughed with Felix, fully enjoying how you pressed your face into his neck in embarrassment. “Come on Lix, that’s enough. You’re embarrassing her.”

“Well, we’re here, so you don’t have to deal with my shit anymore.” Felix parked the limo in front of the casino.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, fear suddenly taking over as you stepped out into the night, flashing lights reminding you of the task at hand. Your hands darted to Hyunjin’s arm, squeezing tightly when he stepped out of the limo.

“Hey,” Hyunjin whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he tried to comfort you. “I won’t think any less of you if you call this off now.”

You turned to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “How dangerous is this?”

Hyunjin sighed and pulled you flush against his body. “Very.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “There’s a small chance that I could get shot as soon as we walk in.”

Your blood ran cold, hands tightening around him as panic bubbled in your chest. “Let’s go in before I can’t.”

“Baby we don’t have to.” His hand rubbed your back, hoping to soothe you.

“No, let’s go.” You let go of Hyunjin and walked straight into the casino, pausing when you reached the entryway.

The Black Spade was enormous. The entire casino was filled with various slot machines, card tables, and many other games. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, each shard of glass glistening under the light. You weren’t expecting this to be such a big place.

Hyunjin rushed to your side, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him. “Don’t you dare do that again.” He sighed in relief. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Sure enough, as soon as a man saw Hyunjin, he had his hand on his earpiece, talking to, who you assumed was, the leader of the Young Bastards. Not long after the man stopped talking, another man popped out.

“If it isn’t the infamous Hwang Hyunjin.” He held his hand out to Hyunjin, smiling when your boyfriend shook his hand. “I heard about your three big wins last month, and I’m curious to see if it’ll happen again.”

There was something about the man that made you nervous. He appeared nice, but you had a bad feeling that he was dangerous.

“I doubt it.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I still can’t believe that happened! I got lucky.”

“Luck you say?” The man smirked, an evil twinge in his eye. “I believe you mean skill. I must watch you play a poker game, Mr. Hwang.”

Hyunjin shook his head, pulling you closer to his body. “I actually came here with my girl to play the slot machines. I haven’t played Poker since last month. I’m afraid I’ll be rusty.”

The man shook his head. “That’s too bad. You must play a game with me before you leave. If you can’t find me on the floor, tell any of the workers you’re looking for Damien.”

So Damien was his name. Damien gave you a curt nod and shook Hyunjin’s hand once more before departing. Once he was a safe distance away you squeezed Hyunjin’s hand. “I need to use the restroom. Can we please find one?”

Hyunjin nodded, a look of concern replacing his features as he led you to the ladies room. You ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. God, you needed to replace that look of pure panic or you were going to tip off the whole club. You smacked your cheek a couple times to get your shit together, before heading back out to your boyfriend.

Hyunjin was leaning against the wall when you stepped out. “Did you do that thing you do when you’re scared shitless? You know… where you smack your face?”

Your eyes widened as you slipped your hand in his. “How the fuck did you know?”

“I’ve always known. Your cheeks are super red dingus.” He giggled when you shoved his side.

You and Hyunjin headed to the banker. “I need 16 million in chips please.” He paused. “Please leave out $100 in coins.”

“Of course sir.” The banker handed Hyunjin a bag full of chips, then slid a small stack of quarters across the counter.

“Thank you, sir.” Hyunjin nodded at the man, grabbing the chips and leading you over to the slot machines.

“Aren’t we supposed to play poker?” You asked.

“Yeah, but I told him I’d be playing the slot machines with you.” He kissed you on the cheek and gestured for you to sit down. “Here.” Hyunjin handed you a handful of coins. “Why don’t you play a few rounds.”

“How do you play?” You frowned, staring at the money in your hands.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh. You were so innocent. “Baby, you just place the coin in the slot machine and pull the lever.”

Hyunjin sat down in a chair next to you and threw a coin in the machine. He pulled the lever, only to see a bell, a seven, and cherries — a losing combination.

“Why don’t you try?” He smiled at you as you slipped a coin into the machine and pulled the lever.

Damn. You had two sevens and a bell.

“Who was that?” You asked about the strange man from earlier.

“Damien? He’s the leader of the Young Bastards.” Hyunjin chuckled. “He didn’t pick a very good name for his gang.”

“Would he hurt us?” Your voice got small as you pulled the slot machine again.

Hyunjin paused to look at you. “I won’t let him hurt us.”

“Hyunjin,” You paused, frustration and fear getting the better of you. “You can’t promise shit like that.”

“Hey.” Hyunjin shoved your shoulder and giggled to try and lift your spirits. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but-”

“Then trust me when I say that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Hyunjin’s eyes bore into yours, making you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Now pull the lever and win us some big money.” He chuckled.

You giggled and did what Hyunjin said, sighing when you got another losing combination.

You and Hyunjin played the slot machines, chatting about this and that for a while before you started to see a crowd form at the Poker tables. You heard someone cry out in anguish and several people in the crowd cheer.

“Hyunjin what’s going on?” You asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“People gather around when there’s a high-stakes Poker game going on.” He pursed his lips. “It might be time for us to make an entrance.”

You gulped, feeling a lump in your throat as you grabbed Hyunjin’s hand.

“Do you think you can do this?” He pulled you closer. “If you look terrified, they’re going to know something’s up. So if you can’t do this—”

“I can do it.” You cut him off. “Let’s go.”

You took a deep breath as Hyunjin lead you to the poker table.

“If it isn’t Hwang Hyunjin!” Damien greeted the two of you once more. “This poor bastard just lost 10 million dollars and his wife!” Damien pointed to a middle-aged man who was sobbing on the floor. “What do you say, Hwang? Do you want to try your hand at beating me?”

Hyunjin pursed his lips.

This was clearly going to be a game of wits. It was obvious Damien was cheating. Hyunjin could tell by the cards sprawled on the table. One deck of cards doesn’t have two Queen of Spades. He had to be careful. It wasn’t just his life on the line, but yours as well.

“You’re on.” He smirked, handing the chips to the dealer to check for authenticity. “Come here baby.”

Oh my god it was happening!

You took your place beside Hyunjin, the two of you sharing a look before the game started. Hyunjin turned his head, making it look like he was kissing your forehead, but he whispered, “Say the word and we’re gone.”

Right the code word.

“Everyone ready?” Once the dealer got the okay from everyone, he shuffled the cards and dealt out two cards to everyone at the table. Hyunjin was positioned in the big blind position, which means he had to put down double of what Damien decided to bet.

“How much?” The dealer asked.

“6 million,” Damien smirked as half the table picked up and left, opting to keep their chips in their pockets.

You couldn’t help but gasp. You weren’t used to throwing that kind of money down on anything. To see Hyunjin put forth 12 million dollars in chips made your stomach turn.

The rest of the table put forth their bets, leaving nearly 50 million dollars in the middle of the table. Your face paled at the massive pile of chips.

If Hyunjin lost, not only would he lose a ton of money for Stray Kids, but there was a chance you’d lose your life.

You tilted your head, looking to see what cards Hyunjin was holding in his hands. He’s got a 9 of spades and a 5 of clovers.

Fuck… He didn’t have what he needed for a royal flush, but he could opt for a high full house. It depends on what cards appear in the flop rounds. The game was left to the cards at this point.

The dealer revealed two more cards face-up to start the Flop betting round. There was a Queen of Clovers, a 9 of Hearts, and a Jack of Diamonds.

“Bet.” Hyunjin called out confidently, pushing forward more chips.

You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you trusted him. After all, Hyunjin has been playing poker for a long ass time.

The dealer turned over the fourth card, starting the post turn betting round. A man paled and rested his head on the table. Either he’s bluffing or he’s truly holding a losing hand. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor bastard.

“Check,” Hyunjin called, pursing his lips, despite the fact that he had a good hand.

“Bet.” Damien smirked at his hand, pushing more chips forward.

“Fold.” The other man folded, opting to keep what little chips he had left.

“Raise.” Hyunjin shoved another large stack of chips into the pile.

What the fuck was happening?

Was he bluffing?

Damien matched Hyunjin’s bet, sliding a large stack of chips into the center. The table was surrounded by people, watching to see what would happen in this high-stakes Poker game. You couldn’t help but wonder yourself. If Damien wins, does that mean you and Hyunjin can just leave? Were you expected to stay there until he won back the money?

Fuck what was going to happen?

The dealer turned over the 5th and final card.

This was the final betting round.

Hyunjin dipped his hand in yours, tapping his index finger on your palm twice. You quickly turned to kiss his cheek, sliding your hand up your dress to grab the card.

“I know you can do it, baby.”

“All in.” Hyunjin tucked one of the cards in his sleeve as he reached up to ruffle your hair.

You grabbed his hand off your head, handing off the 9 of clovers in his hand. You lowered your hand, effectively slipping the 5 of clovers into your garter. It was a quick exchange and you were positive no one saw what happened.

You exhaled, relief flooding your body until you saw Damien smirk from across the table.

Did he see?

“Call.” Damien pushed forward some chips.

Damien and Hyunjin pushed forward their cards, showing their hands. You paled as Damien flipped over a full house. Two queens and three aces. Hyunjin lost.

He lost everything.

Your heart dropped in your stomach as you reached for Hyunjin’s sleeve. Maybe you two could call it now? If you called it now, maybe you guys could leave with your lives.

You looked at Hyunjin’s face to see him smirking at Damien. “You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve Damien.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Damien shrugged.

Hyunjin merely laughed — a dark laughter that you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. He’s usually such a high-pitched giggly man. You had to admit, this side of Hyunjin frightened you a little.

“You play poker with one set of cards correct?” Hyunjin chuckled darkly.

“That’s the only way to play.” Damien chuckled nervously. He blew his own cover. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m asking because I want to know why he has a Queen of Spades?” Hyunjin pointed to a man sitting across the table — his cards flipped up to show another Queen of Spades to match Damiens.

“He must be cheating.” Damien glared at the man. “Security, take him away.”

You gasped as a few armed men lurched forward, grabbing the man’s arms. Your fingers tightened around Hyunjin’s sleeve, alerting Hyunjin. He grabbed your hand in his and squeezed, hoping to calm you down.

“Don’t do that.” Hyunjin chuckled as the guards paused. “He’s right next to the dealer. The dealer would have noticed if he was cheating.”

Damien threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “I own this joint. Do you really think they’re going to do anything about me cheating?”

“Babe,” you started. It was time to go. You couldn’t stand being there any longer. “I’m getting hungry. Should we go to dinner?”

“No.”

Your blood ran cold. That was your code. That was the word. You wanted to go and Hyunjin wouldn't let you.

“We’re playing again, and this time I’m betting with 15 million.” Hyunjin smirked as the dealer handed him 15 million in chips. “If I lose, you get all of my money.”

“If I lose?” Damien smirked.

“You give me back what I lost during the last round, and you let us go.” Hyunjin thrust his hand forward. “Sound good?”

“You have a deal.” Damien shook Hyunjin’s hand and sat back at the table.

The game was purely between Hyunjin and Damien. Everyone else had left.

The dealer shuffled the cards and handed out two cards each. Hyunjin had two queens.

So far it was looking good. You had a King stashed in your garter. All he needed was an Ace, a Jack, and a 10.

Hyunjin and Damien put in their bets, throwing all their chips in the center.

Wait… what? He didn’t even know what cards were there? Why is he going all-in?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. You could feel it. Hyunjin was being ballsy and Damien was setting up a trap.

The dealer flipped over two cards, revealing a 10 of Spades and a Jack of hearts.

You could do it, you could win this. Hyunjin instantly put his hand down, tapping on your palm twice. You giggled and leaned your head against his shoulder, taking the card he stuffed down his sleeve and putting it in your garter. Then you grabbed the King of Spades and…

Oh no…

The card slipped from your hands.

Hyunjin remained still. “Got a good hand there Damien?”

He was trying to keep him distracted.

You thought quick, snapping off one of your acrylic nails and throwing it to the ground.

“Oh my god, my nail just fell off.” You sighed and bent down grabbing the card and hiding it under your shoe. “I paid big money to get these done. I can’t believe it just…” You lifted your head to see a revolver pointed at your head.

Before you knew it, Hyunjin had swiped all the chips to the ground, sending various onlookers to the floor to pick up the millions of dollars in chips. The gunman was knocked over in the chaos, giving you an opportunity to crawl under the table to hide from the mess.

Damien just watched the chaos with a huge smile. “Leaving so soon Hwang?”

Hyunjin cursed and grabbed your arm harshly, the bruising grip causing you to cry out in pain. You’ve never seen him so violent before.

You could hear Damien yell, “Tell Stray Kids to watch their backs.” as Hyunjin pulled you out of the Casino.

Hyunjin burst through the doors and pulled you along the sidewalk.

You frantically pushed at Hyunjin’s hand. “Hyunjin let go, you’re hurting me.”

“Shut up.” Hyunjin turned to glare at you before pulling you along the sidewalk again.

“Should we call Lix?”

“There’s no time,” Hyunjin growled.

He was beyond pissed.

Once you two got far enough away from the Casino, Hyunjin released his grip on your arm. He trudged along the sidewalk, refusing to say a word, while you trailed behind him. You looked at your feet as you walked, guilt taking over your emotions.

You weren’t stupid. You realized how big of a mess you made. Now Stray Kids would be down 27 million dollars and Hyunjin’s cover was blown.

“I fucked up.” Your small voice stopped Hyunjin in his tracks.

He tried — oh he tried so hard to keep his temper in check, but your huge fuck up would reflect poorly on him. “You think?” Hyunjin looked over his shoulder, frowning at you.

“Hyunjin I’m sorry I choked.”

“No, you didn’t just choke.” Hyunjin scoffed. “You could have killed both of us. All you had to do was hand me the card. We’ve practiced that hundreds of times. How could you fuck that up?”

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes glassed over as you took the verbal lashing Hyunjin gave you.

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you did in there.” He turned around and started to walk again.

“Well whatever happened to ‘say the word baby and we’ll leave?’” You mocked. “This isn’t all my fault. I said the code word. You ignored me asshole.”

“It’s not your fault?” Hyunjin scoffed. “This is one-hundred-percent your fault. We could have won!” His voice raised with each word.

“Don’t you think I know that?” You sobbed. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I lost all that money.”

“You aren’t understanding me,” Hyunjin yelled. “You could have died.” He grabbed your shoulders and shook you with each word. “You. Could. Have. Died.”

“I know.” You collapsed to the ground and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You were so scared in that moment. Hyunjin wasn’t acting like himself. You messed up everything for Stray Kids. You had a gun to your head 10 minutes ago.

Tears fell down your cheeks. “I never asked for any of this.”

“Oh hush.” Hyunjin turned away from you. “You asked for this when you accepted this mission. You knew what this was, and yet you agreed.”

“Well maybe I don’t want this life anymore!” You blurted out. Were these your true feelings? “If that means I have to leave you then so be it.” You had to get out of there. You stood up and turned around, leaving Hyunjin to sort out his emotions.

A heavy dose of reality hit Hyunjin when you started to walk away. “Wait, you don’t mean that do you?”

You had to take a minute. Of course, you loved him. You loved him so much, but this life was already taking its toll on the two of you. “I don’t know.” You answered.

Hyunjin paled. “Baby I—”

A gunshot forced you to turn around. You watched a bullet fly through the air, lodging into Hyunjin’s shoulder, knocking him back. His head hit a stone pillar behind him, knocking him unconscious. You screamed and ducked behind a trash can, eyes focused on the amount of blood pouring out of your boyfriend’s head and shoulder.

You heard a loud laugh as a GMC drove off, turning the corner quickly so no one could identify the license plate.

Despite being terrified and weak, you had to get him out of there. Leaving him in the street could get him killed. You ran over to Hyunjin and slipped your arms underneath his armpits. You dragged the poor boy into an alleyway, sobbing as you pulled out your phone and dialed Chan’s number.

Chan answered on the first ring. “Y/N? What happened?”

“Hyunjin was shot.” You sobbed into the speaker, pressing onto Hyunjin’s shoulder wound with your unoccupied hand.

You could hear Chan gasp on the other end. “Where are you?”

“On the corner of 75th. We’re in an alley behind a Chinese restaurant.” You sniffled.

“I’ll be there in 5. Press on the wound and make sure he stays awake.” Chan hung up before you could say anything else.

Well, you’ve already fucked up. Hyunjin was out cold.

Seeing your boyfriend so… dead looking made you cry even harder. What are you going to do? You loved the boy, despite his flaws and his questionable life decisions. He was sweet and caring. He didn’t deserve to die this way.

A truck screeched as it turned the corner. Felix hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened the bed of the truck.

“I brought Seungmin. Let’s hurry up and get him in the truck.” Lix gasped when he saw Hyunjin’s freakishly pale skin. “He doesn’t look good.”

Chan hopped out of the passenger's seat, helping Felix and Seungmin lift Hyunjin in the bed of the truck. You tried to hop in the back, hoping to help Hyunjin however you can.

Felix put his hand on your shoulder. “You should sit up front with Chan. Seungmin and I will make sure he comes back to you.” He smiled sadly.

You quickly hopped into the passenger seat, looking forward to heading back to headquarters.

“What happened in there?” Chan asked as he started to drive home.

“I fucked up.” You sighed. “I lost you guys 27 million dollars.”

Chan’s eyes widened. “Wow.”

You sniffled and started to cry once again. “I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

“Hey don’t worry about it.” Chan squeezed your shoulder. “I’m just happy to see the two of you alive.” Chan cringed. “Well, mostly alive.”

You couldn’t help but tear up as you remembered the argument. “Hyunjin hates me.”

“Hyunjin doesn’t hate you.” Chan chuckled a bit. “That man loves you more than he loves his dog. That says a lot.”

“You didn’t hear the way he spoke to me.” You turned in your seat, rubbing your arms to soothe yourself.

Chan sighed. “Hyunjin gets emotional sometimes. He doesn’t mean what he says when he’s fired up.” Chan paused a moment, thinking of what to ask. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You replied. “Hyunjin is the one who’s hurt.”

“No.” Chan cut you off before you could say anything else. “I’m not talking about physically.” He rested his hand on your shoulder. “We’re used to seeing guns and having our lives threatened. You’re just a normal girl.” Chan sighed. “You shouldn’t have to watch your boyfriend get shot.”

“I don’t want to be a normal girl anymore.” You mumbled. “I want to do what I can to protect him.”

“Hyunjin can protect himself.” Chan replied. “Don’t get any ideas about becoming his savior. That mentality is what gets people killed.” Chan took a deep breath. “But if you want me to show you how to use a gun, and train you to come with us on missions, I can make it happen. You’re the one who’s going to have to tell Hyunjin that it’s what you want, otherwise I’ll have to deal with his wrath.” Chan shivered.

“Hyunjin has wrath?” You chuckled.

“Do you have eyes?” Chan laughed. “Hyunjin only has wrath when it comes to you.” He smiled. “That boy loves you.”

You sighed. “I feel like I fucked our relationship up.”

“Y/N he has a ring.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“He has a ring,” Chan repeated himself. “If he proposes, please act surprised.”

You felt even worse now. Your boyfriend was going to propose and here you were telling him that you didn’t want to be with him anymore.

“We’re here.” Chan pulled into the garage and put the truck in park. You could see Felix and Seungmin hop out of the truck and quickly take Hyunjin inside.

“Hey.” Chan stopped you before you could dart out.

“Hmm?”

“You need to think about this. Marrying him is agreeing to an unstable life. Can you live with that?” Chan questioned.

You nodded.

Chan pursed his lips. “Just think about it okay?”

“I will.” You smiled and darted inside, hoping to hear good news.

----------

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed as he came to, wondering what happened. Where was he?

He could feel a light pressure on his shoulder. Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered open as he looked around the room, hoping to figure out what happened.

He was in the infirmary in the house…

Suddenly pieces of the night came back to him.

A gun, someone pointed a gun at your head. Where were you? You weren’t shot, right?

Hyunjin shot up in bed, alerting Seungmin and the boys. “Y/N.” He called for you.

Seungmin popped into the room. “Hey, buddy. It’s nice to see you awake.” Seungmin grabbed one of Hyunjin’s hands, squeezing lightly.

“Where is she? Tell me where is she?” Hyunjin teared up. You can’t be dead. You can’t be… Tears rolled down his cheeks as he repeatedly called your name, hoping you were okay. Why wasn’t anyone telling him if you were okay?

“Hyunjin?” You poked your head in the room, instantly calming the poor boy. He collapsed back in the bed, sobbing as he regained bits of his memory. You rushed over to his side, slipping into the bed and holding him close. “I’m here.” You kissed his forehead and ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. “I’m okay.”

“I thought you were dead.” Hyunjin sniffled. “There was a gun.”

“You saved me.” You couldn’t help but tear up. “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

Hyunjin chuckled and nuzzled into your embrace. “I don’t die that easy.”

----------

Taking care of Hyunjin while he was healing was no easy task. He was such a finicky boy, always asking for you to come cuddle him for various reasons.

“But baby I’m cold.”

“But baby, I want to hold you, it makes my arm feel better.”

“I might have a nightmare without you.”

Even though he was a pain in the ass, you loved taking care of him. It took him a month to get back to full health, and you couldn’t help but worry for him when his next mission popped up.

You were wandering around the house wondering where he ran off to. Hyunjin had been a bit more distant lately. Not that he wasn’t constantly attached to your hip, but he wouldn’t talk about his worries.

“Hyunjin?” You poked your head into the bar, seeing him sitting at a poker table staring at a deck of cards. “You okay?”

Hyunjin chuckled and threw the cards on the table. “I’m scared.” Your heart broke when he turned around, eyes tired as though he didn’t sleep a wink last night. “I shouldn't be, but I am.”

“What do you mean you shouldn’t be scared? Hyunjin you got shot last time.” You wrapped your arms around him. “You have every right to be afraid.”

Hyunjin sighed, covering your hands with his. “Have you ever heard stories from people who have near-death experiences?”

You leaned your head against his chest and squeezed tighter. “Yeah, I’ve heard a couple.”

“Most people see their lives flash before their eyes.” He paused. “All I saw was you.”

You released your hold on him so he could look you in the eyes. He looked frightened.

“I saw our first kiss, our first date, our first time together…” Hyunjin trailed off. “Then I saw what could have been the end of us… and it was all my fault.”

Hyunjin dropped down to one knee. “I love you and I want you by my side forever.” He paused, taking your hand in his. “I know you might not want to live this kind of life, but, will you—”

“Yes!” You blurted out.

Hyunjin chuckled. “I didn’t ask yet.”

“Okay.” You giggled and waited.

“Will you —”

“Yes.” You replied making him laugh.

“Will—”

“Yes.” You cut him off once again.

“Y/N please.” He laughed and pulled out a small velvet box. “Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yes.” You leaped into his arms, giggling as he lifted you up and spun you around. He slid the ring onto your left ring finger and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips.

You held him closer, rubbing your noses together as you said “Now I don’t want you to leave on this mission. I want you to stay home with me.”

Hyunjin giggled. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” You pecked him on the nose. “And why’s that?”

“I have you to come home to.”

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