#the interpretation is surprisingly a LOT more open just by adding a second word

[wanderingmaskdragons]

ko-fi prompt: meeting bees!

[lovelyfanatical]

I Get a Sugar Rush Whenever I’m With You - Chapter 1.3

Happy Friday, fellow Drukkari stans! Thanks again for the support on this fic. Took a bit longer, but I am here with another installment! Bringing in a couple more characters this time, hopefully you enjoy the dynamics. We’re finally bringing Day 1 to a close. I honestly did not think I would spend this much time on the actual challenges, but they’re surprisingly fun to write about. If you missed the first two parts, you can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Now, without further ado, here’s Part 3 of my Drukkari GBBO au!

Druig was quite certain that technical challenges were a sadistic invention. He’d come in third place, but it was definitely pure luck that he’d made several Dorset apple cakes before, and it didn’t change the fact that it had been the single most stressful hour of his life. Having lunch with Makkari and Kingo had helped alleviate some of the nerves, but they had come right back once they were back at their stations. And even though he’d known what he needed to do, he’d still been on the verge of panic for most of the baking process. The judging and interviews afterward were a blur. Once they got back to the hotel, he was probably going straight to bed… or at least he would if he weren’t also incredibly hungry.

After another round of interviews, they’d piled back into the shuttle and were on their way to the hotel. This time, Makkari sat between Druig and Kingo. The two of them were so signing rapidly that Druig nearly missed it when Makkari asked him a question.

Do you want to eat dinner with us? Kingo says he can hear your stomach growling.

Yeah, thanks, he signed, feeling a smile tug at his lips.

-

Somewhere between the shuttle and the hotel, word had gotten out about dinner, and soon enough, they’d added two more to their impromptu party. After all, they could hardly turn Ajak away when she asked so nicely if she could join them, even if she did bring Kingo’s new (completely one-sided) nemesis, Karun, with her. It was too late to go out, but thankfully, the hotel’s kitchen was still open. They ordered room service and, at his insistence, had everything sent to Kingo’s room.

Druig thought all the contestants had the same type of room, but since Kingo’s was a corner room, it seemed a good bit bigger than his. Even with the extra space, however, the room hadn’t exactly been designed to accommodate more than two or three people, which led to the five of them sharing chairs and huddling around the meager table with their food. That said, Druig was crammed in next to Makkari, so he couldn’t complain. Ajak only knew a few signs and Karun didn’t know any, so Kingo sat across from Makkari so he could interpret.

“So, how was everyone’s first day?” Ajak asked once they’d settled in.

“Um, stressful!” Kingo threw out quickly. “I mean, I knew it’d be a lot of work, but that technical challenge is no joke.”

“Agreed,” Druig chimed in, at which point Makkari elbowed him in the ribs.

Says the guy who came in third, she signed, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t stressful.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Druig,” Karun said warmly.

“Thanks, right back at you.” Karun had come in second. ”And just Druig is fine.”

“Ugh, I picked the wrong group to complain to,” Kingo lamented. Having not learned from his signature bake, he had again put way too much fruit in his cake and came in dead last.

At least you didn’t invite first place, then you’d look really stupid. The other early riser – Gilgamesh – had come in first.

“Oh, we should invite him next time!” Ajak interjected.

“If I’m even here for a next time,” Kingo said glumly.

“I wouldn’t worry so much,” Karun began gently. “I think that other handsome fellow might be in trouble as well.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the streak in his hair. What was his name… Ikaris!”

“Hm, you may be right,” Ajak replied, nodding her agreement.

That blue velvet cake was kind of a disaster.

Despite his numerous questions earlier in the day, it seemed nothing could’ve prepared Ikaris for the tragedy to come. Somehow, he’d gotten his sugar mixed up with salt. The resulting blue velvet cake had been nigh-inedible. On top of that, Ikaris had come second-to-last in the technical, leaving the showstopper as his only chance for redemption.

“I feel kind of bad for him. I wonder what happened…” Kingo trailed off before a glint appeared in his eye. “Maybe he was sabotaged!”

“And who would’ve done that? We all just met today,” Druig retorted.

“I don’t know, but how else do you mess up so badly?”

“Mixing up salt and sugar is a pretty easy mistake to make,” Ajak observed.

“Okay, yeah. Everyone mixes up salt and sugar at some point,” Kingo conceded. “It’s strange, though. He’s all the way in the back. That usually gives bakers an advantage.”

How so?

“Well, you remember how they told us not to cheat by watching each other? It’s easier not to look like you’re watching everyone else if you’re in the back and have to look forward at everyone anyway.”

“Thanks for the tip, Kingo. I can use it for the next technical,” Druig said with a grin. He’d been stationed in the second-to-last row.

“Ohmigod, I’m not telling you anything else!” Kingo exclaimed, as Ajak and Karun both tried to shush his sudden outburst. “You are uninvited from any future meals.”

You can’t uninvite him! He’s my guest, Makkari protested. While Kingo tried to argue, Makkari simply stared him into submission. After a solid thirty seconds, he let out a sigh.

“Fine. Druig, you are un-uninvited.”

“Appreciate it.”

As the others moved onto another topic, Druig gently bumped Makkari’s shoulder in a silent “Thanks.” She returned the gesture with a soft smile.

-

Who will be the first to leave the competition? My brain and schedule permitting, you’ll find out soon. Hope you enjoyed this! Likes, reblogs, and feedback would be much appreciated!

Part 4

[caffeinatedseri]

Dead Apple Light Novel

Recently, I decided to buy LN 5, Dead Apple, purely because I’m a sucker for all of BSD’s light novels, so this post will revolve around what I took away from this novel. 

Dead Apple is Canon

Since the story jumps around in the timeline a lot, I had originally thought that Dead Apple took place outside of canon (especially with Atsushi’s flashback). 

However, a particular part of Asagiri’s afterword stuck out to me:

Now, allow me a moment to discuss some of the particulars of Dead Apple. Chronologically, the story takes place after the second season of the anime — in other words, after the war with the Guild, which puts Dead Apple somewhere between the ninth and tenth volumes of the manga. 

The novel also ended up affecting the main story in numerous ways, and I’m sure this new experience will continue to influence my future work as well.

It’s not unusual for a light novel to insert itself into the main timeline (see 55 Minutes which takes place in the 10th volume), but it’s nice to have confirmation that the same applies to Dead Apple. 

Of course, just because a work isn’t canon compliant (see BEAST), doesn’t mean that it has no potential for further analysis or it doesn’t bring any added complexity to the main plot. Regardless, this post serves as somewhat of a precursor to my other posts concerning Dead Apple since I have a tendency to talk about it a lot, and I’d like to establish a basis for a lot of my posts. 

Differences between the Movie and Light Novel

In the afterword of the light novel, Hiro Iwahata (the author of this LN) said:

“Furthermore, I worked on this book under Asagiri’s supervision, meaning there are several lines in certain scenes that differ from the movie. It might even be fun comparing the two!  Nothing would make me happier than the fans enjoying this novel alongside the movie.”

As per Iwahata’s request, I went into the light novel, looking for differences between it and the movie. However, the novel is surprisingly, almost identical to the movie (maybe not surprising considering it is a “movie novelization”).

Because the differences are so miniscule, I believe they hold an even greater significance, since Asagiri must have wanted to change these specific details for a certain reason. 

Some of the differences I talk about might be unimportant, but I did my best to catch everything that was changed from the movie.

1. The movie doesn’t mention SKK as a part of the Dragon’s Head Conflict, but the novel says, “Some fought under the alias Twin Dark.” 

This probably means that SKK became a pair either before the Dragon’s Head Conflict or during (although I’m pretty sure that the “organization” they destroyed over night was Shibusawa’s organization).

2. When Dazai says that he would’ve continued killing people in the mafia if it weren’t for Oda, Atsushi has little to no reaction in the movie; I would describe it as maybe a hesitant or concerned feeling.

In the novel, Atsushi has a more outward reaction.

““Huh...?!” Atsushi was baffled. He had no idea whether that was true. What did Dazai mean by that? (...) The melancholy Atsushi felt from Dazai had disappeared, and Dazai continued to speak in his usual lighthearted manner.”

Not only does he react verbally, but the novel also adds an inner monologue (mainly for Atsushi) that can’t be portrayed as well in movie format. 

To me, this change highlights how Atsushi sees Dazai purely as a good person; he reacts in such a startled manner because he believes that Dazai is too good of a person to be in the mafia killing people (which we know Atsushi hates). This trend reoccurs throughout the story, of Atsushi turning a blind eye to Dazai’s “bad side.”

3. This one isn’t at all the movie’s fault, but the novel gives a lot more clues as to what the “dead apple” and the dagger in the apple motif represents.

The first time it appears is when Kunikida and Tanizaki meet the Special Division’s agent, but they find out that he’s already dead.

“It [the apple] was, without a doubt, a simple fruit... save for the fact that there was a knife sticking out of it as if to condemn the taste of sin. A blade had been driven into the symbol of original sin. A dreary, ominous aura, oozed from the ripe fruit like venom. 

Throughout the novel, it seems to associate the “dead apple” motif with Fyodor pretty strongly, especially since this paragraph ties in Fyodor’s ideals nicely with the symbolism of the apple and dagger.

The apple represents sin, the very first sin — which you could interpret as sin at its purest — while the dagger represents the condemning of such sin. However, the apple can also potentially symbolize life, while the dagger stabbing into life can mean death. 

Fyodor’s ideals revolve around “removing the sin” of ability users (represented by an apple in this case) but he does so through manipulation. The dagger is associated with stealth and deception, which is fitting with what Fyodor does to “remove the sin” of ability users.

However, he’s also taking the lives of ability users in this process, hence stabbing the apple, coincidentally committing another sin in his attempt to relinquish all sin.

4. In the “Snow White” Oda and Dazai flashback, everything is identical to the movie (word for word), but there is some additional narration.

“It was an alarming sight — Dazai sounded like he was in a trance. It was as if he was ignoring all this world had to offer while in pursuit of something else.”

I’ve talked about this particular scene before here, but the gist is that Dazai was discreetly talking about himself while referring to Snow White. 

Dazai joined the mafia because he believed that the violence (or true human nature) would give him a reason to live, but we already know that this kind of thinking was flawed.  Thus, this line most likely means that Dazai was ignoring all of the “good” qualities of the world while pursuing a reason to live, which inevitably wouldn’t work. 

5. Right after the flashback, when Dazai takes the pill, the novel really sells the act of “Dazai walking towards his death and going to the evil side.” 

Personally, this scene in the movie felt more open to interpretation after you’ve seen the ending. You could say that Dazai took the antidote and said “Being on the side that saves people is more beautiful,” because his plan is to continue living to save more people. 

However, the novel throws away any possible double meaning with this paragraph:

“Dazai then reached for the pill with his bandaged hand, neatly picked it up, and slowly brought it to his lips — just like Snow White and the sweet, poisoned apple. The venomous red-and-pure-white-pill disappeared inside his mouth.”

After Dazai’s tangent on how Snow White could’ve committed suicide out of despair, the narration compares him directly to Snow White. With the added venomous pill stated outright, it only further cements the idea that Dazai’s actually committing suicide here.

I don’t particularly like this change, because it feels like this moment was set up entirely just to divert the audience’s expectations, rather than it be a standalone scene that makes sense when considering the rest of the story. (It might not necessarily be a change, possibly just a rough translation from movie to novel). 

6. When Atsushi wakes up from his nightmare, there’s some additional inner monologue:

Everything’s okay. I’m not the same person I was when I lived at the orphanage. I have friends. I have a place where I belong — the Armed Detective Agency. Things are different now.

The anime (and in turn the movie) tends to downplay the effects of Atsushi’s trauma — probably due to the limitations of anime — but regardless the novel portrays it much better with how Atsushi’s trauma affects practically every aspect of his life. 

7. I thought Fukuzawa’s ability only gave his subordinates control over their abilities, but the novel says:

“Yukichi Fukuzawa and his skill, All Men are Equal, a peculiar ability that allowed him to suppress and control his subordinates’ skills.”

Does this mean that Fukuzawa could control and suppress all of the agency’s abilities? It could be a weird translation, but it seems oddly specific.

8. This detail isn’t actually a novel exclusive, but it is an extremely small detail that I missed while watching the movie, so I figured I would add it here too.

“the phantom’s notebook had the word Compromise written on the cover. A copy of himself that didn’t follow ideals but made compromises was an abomination to Kunikida.”

Considering how abilities act as the shadow to every character in this story, this is a nice detail that shows how Kunikida’s inner desire is to compromise, because carrying such heavy ideals is undoubtedly a burden. However, because he holds onto his ideals so strongly, it becomes his biggest weakness AND his biggest strength.

9. There’s a super small detail added to this scene with Dazai, Fyodor, and Shibusawa. When Dazai suggests that Shibusawa could be saved by an angel or a demon, the following exchange occurs:

“Hmm... Maybe an angel?” Dazai picked up the skull on the table. “Or maybe a demon?” “It’s obvious what both of your true intentions are, if you ask me.” The third man mirthfully cackled and took the skull from Dazai’s hand.

In the movie, Dazai doesn’t pick up anything, so as a result Fyodor doesn’t take anything from Dazai either. 

Because Fyodor walked into the scene after Dazai suggested that an angel or demon would save Shibusawa, I strongly suspect that this was foreshadowing future events in which Fyodor does “save” Shibusawa by giving him his memories back.

The novel adds more to this foreshadowing by having Dazai pick up the skull before it’s taken by Fyodor — essentially having Fyodor take the cards out of Dazai’s hands and put them in his favor. 

It’s also worth pointing out that the skull is also the object that Fyodor uses to revive Shibusawa into a supernatural ghost of some sorts at the end of the story.

10. This may be just a difference in translations but in the movie, Shibusawa refers to Fyodor as “Demon Fyodor-kun”, whereas in the novel Fyodor is called “Fyodor the Conjurer.” (Ango uses the Conjurer title as well).

In western esotericism, a conjurer is a person who summons supernatural beings, like spirits, demons, or God.

This slightly changes the connotation of Fyodor’s title from a inhuman being of pure malicious intent to just a human who summons these otherworldly beings. This idea also aligns with Shibusawa’s revival, since he’s some sort of supernatural ghost that was “summoned” by Fyodor. 

11. Skipping past the parts where Kyouka and Akutagawa regain their abilities, and Chuuya talks to Ango in the government facility, (since they have little to no changes between the movie and the novel) there is a somewhat significant detail changed in Draconia once again with Dazai and Fyodor.

In the novel, this glowing ball of energy from the movie is actually described as an apple: 

The two lights melted into one and spun until they formed a juicy sphere. They had produced a single apple — a juicy, poisoned apple red as blood.

It birthed a skill — and an extremely powerful one at that — the ability to absorb. Every last crystal adorning Draconia’s walls was sucked into the apple with intense force. Ten — a hundred — a thousand — two thousand — every last one was greedily devoured by the apple...

The apple swelled as it absorbed the numerous crystals until the red light became hotter than the surface of hell.

Since the “dead apple” motif aligns with Fyodor’s character, we can assume that the apple is representative of sin, and sin is associated with abilities, as Fyodor believes.

This strange poisoned apple is made of abilities and has an ability (the ability to absorb), and it commits a sin (greed) in its devouring of other abilities; it’s also hotter than “hell”, which is a very specific connection that leads me to this idea:

My theory is that a normal apple represents life, while a poisoned apple (or dead apple), indicative of a stained, impure life, represents sin. Fyodor believes abilities are akin to sin (what a clever rhyme), therefore all of their lives are sinful.

12. This is arguably the most insignificant change of this entire post, but I feel obligated to put it here regardless since it was different from the movie. When the Special Division detects the singularity of Shibusawa’s dragon form in the novel, it says:

“Abnormal values for singularity are increasing! They’re twice — no, 2.5 times higher than they were six years ago.”

In the movie, the number is five times higher instead.

Why did this number change? Is it significant? I honestly have no idea (I’m surprised I even caught this), but it’s there and I had to document it anyways. 

13. The novel adds this narration for Shibusawa when he gets his memories back and he’s in the orphanage’s room with Atsushi:

“Shibusawa clearly recalled the events from six years ago. Fyodor had enticed him to go to the orphanage where he tortured a young Atsushi... until Atsushi fought back and killed him.”

There’s two things to take away from this: Fyodor had known Shibusawa for at least six years, and Fyodor had been planning the events of Dead Apple since at least six years ago. 

I find it hard to believe that Fyodor’s plan was thwarted by Dazai, because of how Fyodor demonstrated his ability to plan ahead in the main series, but I’m not sure what the long term effects of this plan could be. If Shibusawa succeeded, then it could’ve aligned with the DOA’s goals, but once again I don’t think Fyodor’s plan was actually foiled.

14. Super minor once again, but right after Shibusawa gets revived, the last sentence of chapter 5 is,

“Nobody would ever see the smile on Fyodor’s face.” 

Honestly, I think this was just added to create an ominous tone, but it’s a nice detail regardless.

15. As the red fog spreads across Yokohama, there’s a good part of exposition that connects the “dead apple” motif to Fyodor once again:

“After the red fog devoured the earth, the planet would undoubtedly look like a floating red apple from space. There would be no humans left on its surface, nor any signs they ever existed. It would be a true paradise, and with that, the Dead Apple would finally be complete. A dead planet covered in red fog — that was what Fyodor had planned and sought out.

Nothing other than death could wash away the original sin of man, so it was only fitting for the sin, which started with a fruit, to end with one as well. 

It’s pretty long, but I like the way this passage is written, more specifically the last part since it fits well with the sinful poisoned apple idea.

It also aligns with Fyodor’s ideals of creating a true paradise, free of ability users. However, if Fyodor had planned to have the Earth covered in fog, that could mean that his plan was actually stopped by Dazai and Atsushi in the end.

16. Shibusawa has a few additional lines of dialogue when he talks to Atsushi in their final fight.

“The dragon and tiger... I see now why they are called rivals.”

The dragon and tiger have their roots in Chinese Buddhism, but to go further into that topic would make this already lengthy post even longer.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. I’m not blaming you for what happened.”

This line is a brief moment of weakness for Shibusawa, which is interesting in contrast to his strong will to kill Atsushi. Just as Atsushi learned to accept the past and the tiger’s ferocity, Shibusawa shares the same attitude by separating the blame from himself to just simply accepting the past for what happened.

17. In the aftermath of the last fight against Shibusawa, Atsushi and Kyouka meet up with Dazai.

Kyouka asks, “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” which prompts two different responses in the movie and novel respectively.

In the movie, Atsushi says, “Just as Shibusawa was able to forget that he’d been killed before, I think Dazai can put his past behind him again. But this is fine.”

In the novel, Atsushi says:

“... I could probably seal away this memory just like how I’d forgotten I’d killed him before. But... I’m okay with this.”

I interpreted Kyouka’s question in the movie to be questioning Dazai’s loyalties, as he did betray everyone, and Atsushi responded in Dazai’s defense because he trusts him.

However, the novel does change Atsushi’s response to focus on himself rather than Dazai, which in turn changes the implications of Kyouka’s question. 

Kyouka seems to be asking Atsushi whether he was okay with killing Shibusawa, and Atsushi responds by acknowledging that he did kill Shibusawa, and that’s okay. (a very clear development from the beginning of the story when he believed it was unnecessary to kill anyone, and he didn’t want to kill anyone)

18. In the epilogue, Ango talks about the underlying motivations behind the “Dead Apple” case. This change could be attributed to translation differences (like many others in this post), but the connotation does slightly differ from movie to novel. 

In the movie, Ango says, “How is a man like Shibusawa, so intelligent that others look like alien creatures to him, to act, to be destroyed, or to be saved?”

In the novel, Ango says:

“Perhaps the two of them [Dazai and Fyodor] just wanted to get a glimpse of someone like them... Perhaps they wanted to see what he would do and how he would meet his demise... or perhaps how he would be saved.”

The movie simply poses a broad question of what would happen to Shibusawa, a person alienated from the rest of society. 

The novel changes this to focus on Dazai and Fyodor’s perspective — two irredeemable aliens from society just like Shibusawa — executing this grand scheme out of curiosity to see what would happen to someone of the likes of them, and if there’s a possibility for redemption.

19. This is the final difference on this list, and it’s quite a large change. In Fyodor’s monologue at the very end of the story, he has a completely different tone from the movie to novel.

In the movie, Fyodor says, “But in order to end this world, rife with crime and punishment, I do need that book.”

The novel says: 

Glittering high-rises and stately brick buildings stood side by side in this port city with its countless citizens who struggled against crime and punishment. “I think I’ve taken a liking to this city myself..”  Fyodor took a bite of the apple in his hand, and the juicy nectar ran down his delicate fingers. “You’d all better be on your best behavior until next time.”

The reference to the book may have been removed for consistency with the main series, as the book is a part of the DOA’s plan (or more specifically Fukuchi). 

It also seems like Fyodor has grown fond of the city, and no longer wants Yokohama to be destroyed, so it’s still possible that his plan deterred from what he had originally intended.

Beyond that, I’m not entirely sure why crime and punishment was mentioned, or why there’s such an ominous tone to his ending statement, but that’s up to personal interpretation. 

That concludes the long list of extremely specific and minor differences between the Dead Apple movie and light novel! 

Overall, I would say it’s worth checking out the light novel if you don’t have a strong grasp of the Dead Apple story, because it definitely presents the small intricacies of the plot in a more comprehensible way. 

On a side note, the manga adaptation has a lot of noticeable differences from the movie and light novel, mostly with the addition of entirely new scenes (which you can read @buraihatranslations​ — what a shameless self plug). I would highly recommend reading it as those extra scenes are very amusing, to say the least without giving any spoilers.

Honestly, this post was a lot longer than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. Thank you for reading!

[obsessedwvampbois]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐋 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬

Oh boy so this is gonna make people really mad. I have listened to a total of 52 songs from the Diabolik Lovers franchise (that I could find) and ranked them for the hell of it. For this ranking I will be including all character songs, openings (both anime and game) along with the remixes. I will not be counting solo versions of songs (eg. Gin no bara), soundtrack bgm or the endings themes.

My ranking is based on these things:

how well does the song fit the character/s or game, both in lyrics and aesthetic

the overall production and performance of the song

is the song a bop? would I willingly listen to it again?

Couple of disclaimers: I do not speak Japanese so I will be crediting the translations of each song as I go through them along with any think pieces / essays that I come across. If there is any song I missed, please let me know and I’ll slot it into the rankings, its hard to find one source that has all the songs recorded. Finally, just a reminder because I know I'm gonna make someone mad, this is my list! If you don't like it make your own or ignore mine, I'm only one person and my opinion is not final!

With that in mind, my rankings are below the cut

*Least Best*

These are the songs I will probably never listen to again. I have a few gripes with them that I'll talk about in my explanation.

52. 誓いのカンパネラ (Chikai no Campanella)

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation~

This song is just super underwhelming overall. The guitar is my favourite thing about the song but that's it. There is so much build up for a boring chorus. The lyrics don't have much for me either.

51. 血戦のDies irae (Kessen no Dies irae)

Tsukinami Brothers

~translation~

On the opposite end, this song is so overwhelming. There are so many elements to follow and its hard to keep up. This is the first time I'll bring it up but the volume of the voices is so quiet compared to the backing track, its frustrating. The lyrics is what brings it up a notch as it talks about the day of wrath (dies irae) as the day the founders take over. I was also low key hoping to hear some version of the dies irae song hidden in the background but I couldn't hear any.

50. S.O.S-ΑtoΩ-

Tsukinami Brothers

~translation~

This song just feels so forgettable, I just feel like there isn't much to comment on. There are some interesting lyrics sprinkled out like comparing literal self mutilation to abstinence. Also the actual delivery of 'S ah O ah S ah', I can't take it seriously.

49. Dystopia

Kino

~translation~

This had an interesting start because I hadn't heard anything similar for DL but then after a few lines the tone change was just a nope for me. Again, Kino's voice is super quiet and the constant barrage of all these instruments that don't really gel together its confusing. Overall, it didn't leave much of an impression and I couldn't really visualised DL in the song.

48. 吸愛ラビリンス (Kyūai Labyrinth)

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation~

Praise for the saxophone! Props to that because it shines here and is really the only memorable thing besides that final line of the chorus. The song does give the vibe of the Vandead Carnival with its more playful energy though. The lyrics feel really typical, like there are so many times I read lyrics about drinking blood before I get bored.

47. 極限(UNLIMITED) BLOOD -Remix ver.-

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation w/ original ver.~

I don't think I really need to hear EDM/dubstep and Diabolik Lovers again thanks. It feels super dated and the vocoded singing is a little much for my taste. Good source material and the stripped back vocals at some points is quite nice.

46. 愛しきPain (Itoshiki Pein)

Subaru

~translation~

First off please never let me see Subaru near a fedora again thanks. Overall I felt bored with this song, like its nice, but that it. There are similar sounding songs that just hit home similar themes a lot stronger later on. The best part of this song is the spoken word but it feels weird for Subaru to be singing such a slow song.

45. Luv Apple Juice

Ruki & Azusa

~translation~

Yes, I am counting Ruki's spoken word, its my list. Lyrics are a must read with references to Adam, Eve and Eden throughout. Again, the voices are super quiet and with how fast paced the instrumentals are its annoying. The tempo also backfires because these are two of the more 'chill' characters. The last complaint is that the speed of Ruki's speaking compared to Azusa's singing just isn't right.

44. DIE IS CAST

Kou & Yuma

~translation~

This has to be my least favourite opening to a song, the staccato is just really grating to me. The way I'd describe the chorus is loud, the same note over and over again isn't appealing. The lyrics are an interesting read but nothing feels super important. The highlight of the song is the pre-chorus, thanks production!

43. カレイドナイト (Kaleido Night)

Kanato & Subaru

~translation~

This song is just generic, like overall. The sound, the lyrics, the production. There just wasn't must for me to listen to without zoning out.

*Average*

These songs don't leave too much of a lasting impression on me, but I still enjoy them.

42. 苺の罪 (Ichigo no Tsumi) (strawberry sin)

Reiji

~translation~

First of the generic rock songs! I couldn't really find much in the lyrics of note I think the actual performance of the song is my favourite element here.

41. 真夜中の饗宴( MIDNIGHT PLEASURE) -Remix ver.

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation w/ original~

One the best part of the original is that opening section with the steps, it creates some nice anticipation for the coming song. The chorus this time round feels a little low energy after the hype of the pre-chorus. After watching the actual opening with the remix, I kind of wish they had the voice over, the song is so chill the last chorus could have it to make it feel more grandiose.

40. ZERO

Subaru

~translation~

Second generic rock song, this time it actually suits Subaru's brand! The lyrics do have some hints to Subaru as a character which is better. My sustaining thought is that this sounds like an off brand Arcadia.

39. Bloody★Mayim★Mayim

Sakamaki Brothers

~translation~

This has to have one of the strongest hooks for DL. For how many people sing in the song, it's easy to keep track of and the chemistry between them all is in sync. The main issue is that it feels like its missing some element to make it shine, the lyrics aren't in-depth too which brings it down another peg. The bridge/interlude is the best part though as I can visualise some mini story within the song here.

38. ADDICTED (2) PHANTOM

Ayato

~translation~

This song would be so much higher if I felt like it was more memorable cuz the lyrics here really shine. My interpretation is that this is Ayato questioning where his love stops and his sadistic nature to satiate his desires begin, can he separate the two? He both loves and despises the idea of draining his s/o dry. Another gripe with the song is that its not quite Ayato's aesthetic sonically.

37. Kindan no 666 (Three Six)

Kou & Azusa

~translation~

What puts this song so low is the majority of the instrumental, it takes a backseat here when I feel there could be more added. Props to percussion, drums are great though. After watching the MB opening so many times its hard to not see DL. Lyrics match with this one line here describing Kou in a nutshell:

"Sin spread from mouth to mouth, saying 'I’ll be gentle' pulls the trigger on a casual disaster!"

36. Iolite (アイオライト )

Shu

~translation~

I don't know why the producers associate electro-pop with Shu, I can't really see it much. I think they should have gone full glitch-pop instead considering how the song does a deep dive into his mind and thought process. Again, I think the voice is also quiet here but the instrumentals have some great moments, especially the strings.

35. 常夜KNOW UNDERSKIN

Sakamaki

~translation~

Well this gives Sakamaki vibes, nice guitar! Again, I like how it isn't overwhelming despite the amount of people involved. Lyrics aren't super impactful but super catchy.

34. 冷たい血 (Tsumetai Chi)

Ruki

~translation~

You have to read the lyrics while reading this, please! Its surprisingly wholesome and emotional overall. Again, there is the issue of the voice being way to quiet as the instrumentals swallow him whole after the second clock tick. The delivery is really well timed and production does a great job adding elements that works with the lyrics. There is a subtle echo to the voice that feels super enchanting as he comes to terms with the fact that he has fallen in love. Biggest drawback obviously is that this is just spoken word.

33. KISS♥MARK

Shu

~translation~

This song delves into the more perverse side of Shu, but we haven't really reached the level of Laito (we'll get there). The phone feels a little out of character but it suits that narrative. The straight cut out of music for the intermission was a bit abrasive but the transition back to music makes me forget about that with how slick it is. At least its better than a generic rock song.

32. カモフラージュ (Camouflage)

Shu & Laito

~translation~

What a great match up for subject matter, my interpretation is a denial and inability to accept oneself, ultimately using a mask to hide. So please look up the lyrics for some gems. However, after the 'against the blood' nothing really hit that same point sonically, furthermore its not the most aesthetically fitting for the two characters.

*Great*

These songs I actively enjoy, think about and do listen to occasionally and would recommend you check it out too.

31. >REDRUM<-

Ayato & Subaru

~translation~

This song is full of anagrams in the lyrics, I mean look at the song title. Its super catchy and is hard to forget about. The bridge is the weakest part of this song but it is made up by the distortion of vocals after the final chorus.

30. Fanatic of Night

Sakamaki Brothers

~translation~

Well time to party, talk about a bop and a half! Its just so fun, even though its to exactly DL to me, but that's Lunatic Parade for you. Shout out to the guitarist and percussion once again.

29. Bad Howling

Shu, Ayato & Kou

~translation~

This is super catchy, its nice to hear Kou in the opening song this time round, it spices things up. Theres some really nice elements played with the vocals as they sing over one another that is really well balanced. The biggest peg down is that I don't get super DL vibes and the lyrics aren't the deepest.

28. I.M.I.T.A.T.I.O.N. G.A.M.E

Kino

~translation~

Overall this song is a little generic and doesn't sound like DL but! There is a lot to love here too. Starting off with the performance, I really like the vibrato in his voice and the decent of notes at the end of the chorus is just, yes. It a nice hook and the lyrics are pretty good too. My only other complaint is that the drums mask some smaller elements in the background of the song which would have been nice to hear more in the forefront.

27. 極限(UNLIMITED) BLOOD

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation~

This is where the rankings get pretty hard cuz I wish this was higher but oh well. the dramatic shift from the opening piano to the song is so abrupt but it gets you pumped. The intermission does a good job of changing things up without cutting tension. The lyrics themselves seem to be from the view of the Adam project during more blood and the unquenchable thirst they get in the story.

26. アルカディア (Arcadia)

Ayato

~translation~

Immediately I get Ayato vibes from this song and the rapping does help too with a nice flow that isn't too jarring from the rest of the song. These lyrics are basically Addicted2Phantom on steroids, I can't see anyone else other than Ayato in them.

25. Kekkyoku Night

Ayato

~translation~

Don't know why but the guitar melody just seems like I had heard it before but I can't put my finger on it. The bass is super slick here and I really enjoy it. The vocal distortion at the start of the verse sets a scene for him to hunt down this person and its a narrative choice. The main issue is that I wish there was a little more pizzaz to the chorus.

24. Kaikan DEATH-TRUCTION

Kanato

~translation~

Spoilers but I have placed both a Kanato's songs pretty high up so this was a little bit of a let down after the other two. The main issues here is that I don't really get too much of Kanato in the song and the yelling before the chorus is a little much. This, to me, is a self reflection from Kanato which is a good switch up from his last two songs. Overall, the song is abrasive in a good way that isn't overwhelming and the 8-bit section is my fave.

23. 血濡れた密会 (BLOODY SABBATH)

Laito

~translation~

Oh boy, look these lyrics up for a good time. This song is about his hook up with a women with the song getting progressively darker as it goes on. Nice psycho reference but I don't know if it does much in the end. Really catchy hook and the escalation of the final chorus is just so good. Also I'm just going to leave this line from the song here:

“You wend all out with the rodeo girl play? So then, let’s grind!!!”

22. 幻日理論-Parhelion Logic

Ayato

~translation~

This song is meant to be kind of an open letter to Cordelia and my word these lyrics are haunting. It fits the vibe of Haunted Dark Bridal so well, super strong overall. I just wish there was a stronger performance vocally.

21. 暴言シンドローム (Seiron Syndrome)

Yuma

~translation~

Yuma, to me has some pretty good observation skills and its really highlighted here. The first line just hits the nail on the head in terms of how rough he is both in and out of the bedroom. This song is the best of the 'generic rock' with production being really smooth despite the high energy, it matches him really well. First line:

The pain of your sprained neck won’t subside

20. 蠱惑のParade (Kowaku no Parade)

Reiji & Kanato

~translation~

We got another catchy banger here! This song just screams 'the two of us are here to hunt you down and we won't stop till we get a taste.' I mean this song is super pleasing aesthetically and great lyrics to boot!

19. KILLYOU,AGAIN

Azusa

~translation~

The strings are an immediate attention grabber and its hold it throughout the whole song. Super catchy, and these lyrics are Azusa, especially this chorus. Id be interested to hear what people think about the second verse in particular cuz there's a lot to read into:

"In a worn out state of mind, no matter how many nights we question it... We’ve idealised too much."

18. SQueeze…

Subaru

~translation~

Okay before anything else, the squeeze at the start is goofy, I can't take it seriously. Anyway, I can't help but tap my foot to this song. Third times the charm, finally hitting Subaru's aesthetic to a T. The voice is a little quiet on the track but what takes over just sounds so good. The contrast of the bell and the guitar is just, yes thank you. The pre-chorus is a nice mix up to the status quo and these lyrics are great too.

17. 愛の檻 (Ai no Ori)

Ayato & Laito

~translation~

The opening is a nice tone setter for a haunting head bopper. These voices work together so well, just like how the sirens work with the strings. The singular violin during the bridge is great, praise to anyone who can do that my god. The string motif climaxes at the final chorus and it creates an awesome song!

16. 月蝕(Eclipse)

Kou, Yuma & Azusa

~translation~

Well we have a nice build up ballad here. The opening is a little out of place but I forget about it as it builds to this final chorus with the tempo getting faster and faster. The stripped back production also ends up aiding the song in the end with its punches and message. Speaking of which; I get the idea this is about watching some either currently or in retrospective how their personality changes after turning into a vampire; a loss of innocence. How fitting for the Mukami's.

“Despising the sunlight that filters through the blinds is only inevitable, I suppose”

*Faves*

This is what I think the best of the best is. It reflects the themes, ideas and characters of Diabolik Lovers in the best way possible. When people ask me what music from the franchise to listen to, I point to these songs.

15. Count off

Kino

~translation~

There is so much to talk about here, this is a mix of singing and spoken piece and it works so well for me. The delivery over this contagious beat I can't help but get hints of a k-pop vibe here. The movement to singing then vocoded voice are interesting and fun. The bridge switch up too is great, my only wish is that the choir hand a little more presence in the final chorus cuz its fun the first times round, it would be a nice call back.

14. A Certain Prophet's Fate [とある預言者の、運命 Toaru Yogensha no Unmei]

Reiji

~translation~

I can visualise a Nutella Kookie moodboard with this opening alone. To me, this is Reiji explain his views on women with allusions to Faust too, not the Ikemen version relax. there are some cool allusions to his mother in the lyrics too. The bass is so cool to listen out for and the guitar nodding to the chorus at the end is a nice way to end. I was just hoping for a little continuation to the opening like Reiji finding this person escaping on horseback.

13. CHAOS☆PARTY

Laito

~translation~

Aaaaaand another innuendo song from Laito, what a surprise! The jazzy, circus-pop vibes are super fun and catchy, I love it. It's like an upgraded version of Bloody Sabbath to me. The distortion on the guitar is also great to listen out for.

"Don’t decide where’s the critical point, grind as you feel it,

Till the moon oh, mockingly"

12. Mr.ButterflyMask

Reiji

~translation~

The opening may be cliche but it works so well, this is such a deep dive into Reiji's psyche; his mother, inferiority complex and village burning to name a few. The actual song is easy to remember which makes it even better here, the descending notes at the end of the chorus is a highlight.

"Burnt black, that awful land mark"

11. 真夜中の饗宴 (MIDNIGHT PLEASURE)

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation~

The song to start it all, thank god it's such a highlight. I get so hyped from hearing the opening footsteps; mirroring the prologue with You stepping into the mansion for the first time. I feel so nostalgic for this and I'm hyped to play the game every time I hear this. The spoken section is the high point in terms of the HDB aesthetic but these lyrics maaaannn:

"With a scream that shatters the moon itself I’ll give you this extraordinary pain called “love”!"

10. Guilty×Guilty!!!

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation~

I'm gonna get crucified for putting this above midnight pleasure but my list and this is my fave game op. The only peg down is the lyrics but it makes up so much for the actual sound variation. The unnerving energy from this scifi-y noise, it screams danger with the Tsunami arrival. The variation between the two verses in robs what places it high and the bridge is excellent to boot.

9. Farewell Song

Shu

~translation~

If I had to make one song recommendation outside of DL with this list it is this song here. The lyrics and melody match up the same way and both are strong in their own right. Onto the song, these lyrics really shine wrangling with ideas and the thought process of depression; something that hits close to home for me. With the inclusion of the destructive nature vampires its truely impactful. The sound of the song aids these lyrics too while all sounding like Shu.

Without pause, the drops of a drizzle had begun to weep...

...Comforting the screams of the things you’ve touched"

8. Mr.SADISTIC NIGHT

Shu, Ayato & Subaru

~translation~

This is my favourite opening of all the games and anime and it is the most on theme with the DL franchise, not just the one game. The guitar rifts at the start are just sooooo iconic. The actual line "Mr Sadistic Night" is delivered so well too. I mean the song speaks for itself. I will make the observation though that this song is the epitome of kids unknowingly singing a song with dirty lyrics.

"If I’m so aroused by the snare of your enticing blood

Tonight, as I thrust deep into you, a lust for death awakens from within you!"

7. 悪魔的（Devil's）Spire!!!!

Kou

~translation~

This song is just Kou at his best, I can imagine him singing this at a concert as a debut single. It has all the elements of a catchy pop song with some sinister elements that just reflects his personality. Production has my praise here too. The song seems to be a friends with benefits situation Kou has as he recounts the tale. Also, more innuendos:

"In the deep red velvet sheets, Do you want to taste my forbidden syrup?"

6. Operation X

Tsukinami Brothers

~translation~

Haven't seen these guys in a while! You can tell production had fun adding all these medical sounds in the back like the sirens and heart monitor. The song itself is super catchy too, that bass just hits you at the core! The lyrics look like the Tsukinami's observation of You as she has become entangled with all these vampires and the situation just seems to spiral even more out of control.

"The risk spreads further the deeper you get involved...

...The more you give up, the more that guy mocks you"

5. GRATEFUL★DEAD★MARCH

Kanato

~translation~

Production had fun again, you can tell. It's more upbeat there is still a sinister vibe here. The constant switch ups within the song all flow so well. I feel genuine despair listening to this chorus, like Kanato is mocking or toying with me before going in for the kill. My only complaint is that the slowing down at the end is a bit of a mood killer.

4. 切断★舞踏会 (KIRISAKI CARNIVAL)

Kanato

~translation~

In terms of character aesthetic, this is sheer perfection. There is a narrative within this song that you need to look at the lyrics for the best experience. The sound effects act as a good way to heighten the story as they match the lyrics. One moment to note it both the chorus and pre-chorus as they act as the extreme ends on Kanato's personality and it creates a great dichotomy when placed together.

3. Q.E.D.

laito

~translation~

My favourite solo song, and the one I constantly visit the most. Laito is a complex character and this song does a self reflection in the best way possible.I would also recommend reading this great analysis by everything laito because I can't do a proper analysis justice. For the song itself, the piano is a great mood setter as it acts as if we are approaching Laito as he plays the piano about to go into one of his many monologues to himself. The intercut from the piano to the guitar is abrupt but it works so well as if there are crack in his facade showing through. The change back to the piano is great too and isn't distracting in any way. I also think this is such an emotional performance, like I can feel the sadness and despair along with almost a self deprecating humour to the delivery. Top notch stuff

2. 罠-If You’re Diablo- (Wana -If You’re Diablo-)

Mukami Brothers

~translation~

I want mention first off that the spoken word from Ruki is such an aid here, the pace is slower, more haunting and despair-inducing in tone. The speaking adds a nice break to the vocals. The chorus in particular packs such a punch its kind of nice to lie on the ground and just let the song envelop you. The lyrics give the impression that there is a mutually destructive relationship here with the Mukami's mentioning of betrayal yet they suck the blood of this person. There is also a feeling of hopelessness that the Mukami's know they can never achieve their goal of becoming Adam.

"I'd been resigned to become Adam since who-knows-when...

I continue to hate this fate, my prayers in zero"

1. Gin no Bara

Sakamaki Brothers

~translation~

And we're finally at the end! This song encapsulates everything that Diabolik Lovers is. Vocally, it's really catchy with such a somber vibe, because that's what DL is. It's a dark series but you can see that darkness with each backstory, the actions these characters take and just the overall hopelessness in this one song. The Sakamaki's all singing together packs such a punch too. There are so many gems in these lyrics, to literally acknowledging the pain and suffering their mothers' caused and coming to terms with the actions they have committed as they fall in love.

"The proof remains on your neck while you sleep quietly Even if an eternal curse awaits me beyond those overflowing tears

I now hold this love and pain in my chest"

*SHOUTOUTS*

I want to give a huge shout out to the following people. They have helped immensely with translation and just overall accessibility to the songs because they would be 1000 times more harder to find without them.

Silvermoon249 (Live Journal)

Asyqin98 Creator (YouTube)

S I s o v o l i (Youtube)

DIABOLIK LOVERS (YouTube)

Dialovers otaka (Tumblr)

Starlight voices (Tumblr)

Cannonette (Tumblr) @canonette

The Precious Sugar Chan (Tumblr)

One final note, I would recommend listening to these with headphones because the audio sometimes does that thing where it jumps from ear to ear and it creates the best effect to be more involved in the atmosphere.

[sichengtual]

— summary: wanting to make his big break as a song-writer, jun gets assigned to work with a band that has every intent on making it big. but it’s the 70’s, and just as he’s about to discover, love and rock&roll go hand in hand.

— pairing: wen junhui x reader.

— au: 70’s, song-writer!jun, rockstar!reader. 

— genre: fluff. 

— word count: 15, 273 (15.2k)

— playlist: somebody to love — queen ;  your song — elton john ; where you lead — carole king ;  tiny dancer — elton john. 

— warnings: alcohol consumption, some cursing, josh saying groovy every time he speaks.

— a/n: a part of me really wishes i was living in the 70′s and i think it shows here lol also, the moonwalker is inspired on the troubadour and the song jun writes is tiny dancer because it carried me the entire way, what an mvp. 

this one’s for @chocosvt​ ! i really hope you like it <3

Jun is nervous. 

The tapping of his feet against the cold, faux tiled floor produces no audible sound over the music coming from the speakers, but it’s still noticeable to him. He tries to keep a steady pace, even counting along to the beat as he plays the same words over and over inside his head. It’s his own voice speaking back at him, words a mere reminder, and, if he were to be completely honest, part of the reason behind his nerves.

He had promised you, on the very first day he met you, that he’d help you shine. That he’d make you succeed. Part a rush of the moment, part wanting to impress his boss and part a reassurance for himself, his promise had been easy to make. Then. And it’s not that he doubts himself, or you, but, at the end of the day, he’s a 24 year old making his debut in the music industry. And it’s hard, of course, because even when he’s not the one performing, it’s still his words that are being sung. 

Doing what he does is harder than people usually think. Jun’s lyrics are heart-felt, authentic, with his entire soul poured on the paper and ready to be dissected by whoever got to listen to the songs he wrote. He surrenders it to the artist, basically giving up any kind and sort of hold he has over the feelings he’s just reflected, giving them away for someone else to interpret them the way they want. The way they can. And as difficult as it is sometimes, it’s part of the job, and all that he can hope for is for them to be interpreted in the most authentic way possible. It’s hard, definitely, but after years and years of trying, he knows that having them expressed are way better than keeping them in.

Following the loud bang of a drum, he looks around as he keeps the pace with his foot. The entire room smells like entrapped smoke, and warm coffee, and it looks somewhat like it too. There’s a thick, almost translucent layer of fog-like smoke hanging on the air, slowly rising to the ceiling as minutes keep passing. There’s also a big arrangement of paper cups, both full and empty, resting on all possible surfaces around him, almost reflecting the passing of time in their placement; 8 in the morning on the desks, 2 in the evening on the equipment luggage, and a few hours past midnight on some parts of the floor. 

The practice room is a dimly-lit space, with a few round, orange and yellow glass lamps hanging on the ceiling and set a few meters apart, barely even enough to illuminate the entire room. In the evening, the last few rays of sunshine manage to break through the high set windows, reflecting on the tinged glass and breaking upon the dark purple walls in bright, warm shades of orange. 

He hasn’t been there a lot, only a few days since he had arrived for the first stop of the tour, but as he sets his eyes on it, he can’t help but think it almost resembles a sunset. He can see the colors, the exact same ones that paint over the sky just as the night is about to fall down, and it serves to help him ease a little bit. Sunsets, even the ones reflected upon the walls of a world tour practice room, are the same all around. 

“Why are you still getting it wrong? It’s all about the groove, man,” Josh whines. He’s sitting on a small wooden stool, his guitar propped up on his knee. 

“I don’t know, Josh, I’m the one that wrote this riff and for some reason I just can’t play it correctly again!”

“Beginner’s luck,” Chan comments, not really involved in the argument, but never one to pass the opportunity to strike a joke. He looks down to tune down his guitar once Mingyu turns to give him a stare. 

“That doesn’t make sense, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“Well, it certainly doesn't seem like it! Just try to make it groovy!”

He’s still getting used to the band. 

They’re a nice group of people; kind, loud and boisterous, but that’s just every band he knows. Having worked in the label for years, he’s used to seeing bands come and go, submitting his songs with no much more room for interaction left other than a Jun, they liked it! coming from his boss on the good days (the bad days are different, a little less remarkable, but they’re the ones he tries not to think about). This, his first time on the road with one of them, is a completely new experience, and if it wasn’t for finally seeing his dream beginning to get on track, it’d be one that would probably have him shaking in fear. 

But they’re warm, laid-back and easy to talk to, which he appreciates, knowing he’s not the best at initiating conversations... or maintaining them. He had felt intimidated at first, looking into a group of rising rock stars from the outlook of someone who’s just as into their world as he’s out of it, standing somewhere between the line that divides the outside and the inside. But he’s entering, just walking in and slowly stepping his toes on the water; and he’s doing it by the side of people he’s glad he can finally get to call his friends. 

“Jun, could you possibly tell Mingyu he’s been playing the wrong note the entire time?” 

“Yeah Josh, I already know I’ve been playing it wrong.” 

“Please stop fighting so we can practice!” Soonyoung says from his spot on the drums, backed up with a nod from Vernon, the bassist looking surprisingly bored at the altercation.

“Can you tell him to play the right note this time? And remember, make it groovy!”

He hadn’t heard the door opening, but you’re walking in the room just he finally tears his gaze from Josh’s bright red guitar. You turn to give him a smile, one he quickly returns, before turning back to the two bickering guitarists. He turns to look at the set playlist, with his name carefully penned down below all fifteen songs, and he tells himself that, despite his nerves, he might just be perfectly ready for the tour to start. 

“Are you okay? You looked a little distracted today.” 

The diner is quiet. 

There’s really not much movement, with only another customer besides him inside the small establishment. He can focus on the clinging of his spoon as he moves it around in his cup, light, creamy bellows of steam rising as the aftermath of the ripples he creates on the dark liquid. The coffee really isn’t great, tasting a bit tangy against his tongue, even after he had added a small packet of sugar to try and ease the bitterness of the beverage. If he focuses enough, he can even make out a light buzz coming from the neon lights advertising the diner in the street, sound low but crisp against the pouring rain. 

It’s cold, and a part of him really regrets coming to the diner straight out of practice without going to his room first. He had just needed to write, and to do that, he needed silence. He runs a hand up and down his left arm, the coolness from his rings perceivable even through the thick wool of his shirt. 

He looks up, the ripples inside his cup long forgotten. 

You’re standing in front of him, looking just as tired as he feels, with a completely different stance than the one you usually show inside the practice room. Or on the stage. It’s relaxed, at ease, a little shy, even, and he can’t help but wonder if, behind the whole rockstar facade, maybe the two of you aren’t really that different. 

You take a seat in the chair in front of him, the laminated red seat squeaking as response to the movement. 

“Huh?” He lets out.

“At practice,” you move, trying to get comfortable in the cold, plastic chair. “You looked a little distracted. Everything okay?”

Jun shrugs, smiling softly. “It’s just nerves, I think.”

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Jun smile, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile like that. And, in complete honesty, it was the first time it had been completely directed at you. He had always been a little quiet, ever since he was first introduced as the “new song-writer” by the label director, and, because of the chaos that naturally ensued whenever surrounded by the entire band, your interactions with Jun had been few and far-between. 

Here’s what you’ve managed to learn about him in the months you’ve known him: he likes to be alone when he writes, but he can also do it when sitting as far away from the speakers as possible. He likes drinking his coffee with both sugar and cream, and even if he doesn’t drink too much of it, he always finds a way to spill even a little bit, be it on his shirt or somewhere near his notebook (which has been the cause of many scares inside the practice room). He keeps a pen in his shirt pocket at all times, whether it be for writing down an incoming idea wherever he found or for clicking the seconds away whenever he got nervous. 

And he’s surprisingly shy about his lyrics, even when he sounds completely confident in them. You can tell, whenever you’re given them to sing them, that they are words he’s proud of; words that came from his heart as bits and pieces of the most beautiful poetry you’ve ever read. And they’re always accompanied by a small, shy smile and the slight reddening of his cheeks. 

“I know what you mean,” you say. You call the waiter just as Jun takes a sip from his coffee, not missing the slight purse of his lips as he swallows down the warm beverage. “I’m nervous too.”

“You don’t seem to be,” he comments. He looks back down at his coffee, hand still making circles with the spoon. “Whenever you sing, it’s like you’re completely used to it. It feels as if it were something you’ve always done, something you know like the back of your hand. And still… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like you’re thrilled by it, even more so every day.” 

Jun looks up at you, hiding his words behind a smile. You don’t notice, too busy ordering a cup of chamomile tea to make anything of the way he’s staring at you from the other side of the table. 

“It’s amazing what putting on a brave face can do, then,” you answer. “I love being on stage. It’s just nerve wracking to think about it when I’m not there. It’s like Mingyu not being able to get his own riff right unless he’s playing in front of a live crowd.” 

“Oh, please don’t remind me of the riff incident. Joshua’s voice hasn’t left my head the entire day.” 

Rain continues falling. You can hear some melody coming from the speakers, which, even when it feels completely unfamiliar, makes Jun’s sway to the side as he rests his head on his hand. Maybe he knows it. 

“I hope it’s not a bad sign,” Jun mentions, pointing to the window with his thumb. “Starting the tour with a little bit of rain.”

“Seungkwan was talking about that earlier, too,” you say, thinking back of the keyboardist’s words from before you left the practice room. “But you know, if anything, I think it might be a good sign.” 

Jun purses his lips, head moving to the side. His fingers move across the table, fiddling with the empty sugar packet he had used. The bright pink paper shines bright against his hands, fluorescent yellow light reflecting from outside. It captures his eyes, and yours, and for a brief second, the both of you are stuck on watching how the packet’s shadow grows whenever Jun moves it around his fingers. It reminds you of him with the pen, a mere distraction. Or maybe just a way for him to set his ideas in order. 

You can tell he’s still a bit hesitant about the interaction, not knowing if they’re nerves at talking about the tour or just nerves at talking to you. As soon as he looks up from his hands, you give him a smile. 

“It’s a bit of a fresh start, isn’t it? And I think, right now, that’s what we all need.”

As much as Jun wants to say he’s not surprised at the turn-out, his eyes are wide open at the influx of people coming through the doors. 

His heart beats loud against his chest as he looks down at the stage, empty of people but perfectly set with an array of instruments that are only waiting to be lit alive. The entire place is full of chatter; the ever-growing excitement of a crowd begging to be enchanted by an unknown performance. Up from his spot at the balcony, he can’t make out what they’re saying but he doesn’t miss how they’re saying it: and the pure excitement in their voices draws a chill from his spine. 

It’s a scene like the ones he’s been hearing about for years. Like the ones he’s been dreaming of witnessing, of being a part of it. And now he’s in one, not only as an spectator, but as the man behind the words. 

“It’s amazing, don’t you think? Or as Josh would say, incredibly groovy.” 

Seungcheol, the band’s manager, asks as he walks into the balcony. Him and Jun went way back, much more than anyone else in their group besides the band themselves. They were the new generation, the young dreamers at the office that were only waiting to be given a shot to prove themselves. They had been hired at the same time, both meant to work with a completely different artist that had ended up not taking them because of how young they were. 

They had built up their experience together, and it had been those late-night talks at the label’s office that made Jun able to call Seungcheol his friend, powered through by cheap coffee and tired conversations full of laughter. And they’re only part of the reason why Jun always refers to Seungcheol as a long-lost brother more than a newly found friend. 

“It’s almost sold out!” Seungcheol continues. He’s wearing a dark pin-stripe suit, as he always is whenever he’s on official business. His hair is slicked back, and his usual pair of gold wire-frame glasses rest on top of his nose, specs perfectly clean. “People keep walking in and walking in and walking in! It’s almost as if they’re the freaking Rolling Stones and not a band barely making their debut. Is that Hoshi or is it Charlie Watts on the drums?”

“It’s the Monday night show, it’s a guaranteed success,” Jun mutters. He knows Seungcheol would be able to see past his facade, to make out the true meaning of his words. Three years after meeting him, there isn’t much he can hide from him. “I’m happy for them, though. The first night’s important.”

“Yeah, me too,” Seungcheol smiles. “Vernon’s been freaking out in the backstage since he started hearing the crowd coming in. He’s just staring at his bass and Hoshi’s about to smack his head with his drumsticks.”

“They’re gonna do amazing. If Mingyu gets his riff right, that is.” 

“And everybody’s gonna love the songs,” Seungcheol says, pressing a gentle palm on Jun’s shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed he was shaking. “If only they knew the stud that wrote them. I bet they’d even like looking at those nice bell bottoms you’re wearing. Since when do you like purple pants?” 

“I bet they’re gonna prefer looking at Mingyu,” Jun laughs before Seungcheol does, and it almost distracts him from his surroundings. “Or even Josh. And Minghao gave me the pants, by the way.”

“Or even Josh,” Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head as he looks away from his friend. 

“Groovy,” Jun says. 

“Groovy,” his friend responds. 

Jun’s nerves have calmed down by the time the lights fall down. 

A half-empty beer bottle looks over the crowd, sitting immediately next to the balcony’s railing. He notices an entirely new atmosphere now that the room is only barely lit, as if the lights falling had only served to heighten the people’s emotions. It’s almost as if they’re in a different place altogether, with expectating hanging high in the air and out of everyone’s reach. 

The Moonwalker they had walked in, just a few hours before, barely resembles the Moonwalker they’re in right now. 

It had been lit by the natural light coming from the windows, bouncing over the wood-covered walls and reflecting over the little trinkets that served to adorn them. They had been the highlight of the place, attracting the eyes of everyone that entered to the rows and rows of pictures and memorabilia. What was that hanging over the bar, Bob Dylan’s hat? Jun had only been more impressed by the bright neon sign that spelled the bar’s name right on the center of the stage, after seeing it on newspaper cuttings for most of his life. 

A few days back, when Seungcheol had told him of the gig they had landed the band through a friend of his girlfriend (bless you Lily!), Jun almost couldn’t believe his words. The bright blue cursive sign had been the first thing that had come to mind, consuming his thoughts as a sort of finish line at the end of a marathon. It wasn’t only the bar’s trademark, it was also the backdrop of some of the most amazing debuts in modern rock n’ roll history. And now, looking at it shining brightly against the low-lit room, a part of him still can’t believe he might be about to see one of them with his own two eyes. 

He had heard of concert nights on the Moonwalker the same way he had heard the stories of the great mythic heroes. He had seen pictures the same way he had learned of iconic places and happenings. He remembers spending entire nights finding motivation in the dream of listening to his songs being played in the exact same place some of his favorite songs had been presented, of them finally finding their home within the same crowd that had once listened to The Byrds and Carole King. 

And as you walk onto the stage, commanding attention with each step, Jun is sure tonight is going to become one of those. And that it’s his songs that will be sung back by the crowd, resounding against the walls and enveloping the entire place in their meaning. 

The band had already been introduced by the club owner, but no one had actually turned to pay attention until you had walked on stage. You’re met by countless excited bellowings, a smile on your face forming at the sudden attention. 

“We hope you enjoy the show!”

The rest of the band follows, and Jun is struck by a thought. Words materialize in his head as if prompted by the first few notes, threading together into a complete, coherent phrase. It’s a phrase Jun knows. He might have heard it from someone, or read it from somewhere, and it’s stuck in his brain the same way the bridge of the song you’re singing once was. Or maybe it was just something someone had once told him. 

He knows that there are moments in an artist’s life that will define their career. Moments that let you know how it's gonna go. A preview of sorts. And he knows, looking at you shining under the spotlight, that he’s just witnessed something big. 

The entire crowd has gone wild at the music, and Jun knows it’s only the beginning. 

For now, he just smiles, and like the people dancing down below, he lets himself go. 

The party is in full-swing by the time Jun walks in. 

The house itself is small, one story and a few rooms that hold a big part of the party-goers. He can tell it’s usually used as a holiday residence, not exactly a place of staying but merely a place of passing, because every single thing that’s visible doesn’t really have a function different from simply looking good. The entire place is covered in small, colorful trinkets that look like they’re part of some random collection that everyone always sees but no one actually ever looks at. 

It’s truly a rock-star’s house, because, really, nothing about it makes sense. 

Countless bookshelves rest against the colorfully draped walls, an array of uneven, colorful wallpapers shining under the light of the multiple glass chandeliers, but not a single book is visible to the eye. The floor itself is a great quality wood, but everything’s hidden below a series of fuzzy rugs that somehow match the randomness of the wallpapers. 

The music changes slightly as he keeps walking, an entire ensemble of genres, styles and decades all the product of a number of record players playing simultaneously all over the house. All of them are playing a completely different thing, but somehow it all blends into one cohesive beat. Jun could go into the technicalities behind it and say it’s probably in the beats per minute, or could maybe go somewhere into the meaning behind the lyrics, but for now, he just lets himself get immersed into the scene. 

The party doesn’t resemble anything he had lived before, or even heard of. And it’s full of people. 

The entire team (band and staff alike) had been invited to an after-party held by some music executive that’s friends with the owner of the club. It happened every monday after the show, they had said, entertaining executives, artists, and club-goers alike. And no one really cared who was which as long as there was music playing all around them. 

“Jesus, is that Billy Joel?” Seungcheol asks as he walks closely behind Jun. The two of them and Minghao, the band’s stylist, had been the last to leave for the party, having to stay behind to finish the last of the arrangements that followed a successful concert at the Moonwalker, with the rest of you leaving with some of the club’s crew. “Guys, I think that’s Billy Jo- jesus, he’s talking to Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Of course he’d be talking to Chan and Seungkwan, they probably went right to him when they saw him,” Minghao says. “Hey, can you see Vernon around?”

“He’s probably sitting somewhere next to the drinks or something. Or maybe he’s outside, I think there’s a live band playing somewhere out there,” Jun comments.

“Damn, should’ve booked us too for that, right?” Seungcheol says, laughing with the words.

“Don’t you rather just enjoy the party and forget about performing for a bit?” Minghao questions. Out of the corner of his eye, Jun can see Seungkwan and Chan walking away from the group of people they had been talking to, probably on their way outside for some fresh air. “The guys seem to be having a great time. Let go for a bit, Cheol! Let’s enjoy this whole rockstar life even if it’s just for tonight!”

He can hear Mingyu’s laugh coming from somewhere nearby, even if his eyes can’t locate the tall guitar player. He’s surprised he can hear him, with how low his laugh usually is and how high the music is playing, but once Seungcheol points him out in the crowd, he’s only a few steps away. He’s entertaining a large group of people, with Joshua smiling by his side, the both of them holding two glasses of what looks like beer. 

It’s no surprise the two of them would like to be around the growing crowd, with how easily they seem to be able to strike a conversation with whoever walks by. He had known them to be sociable, in comparison with some like Vernon, Minghao or himself. It’s still a bit surprising, though, how in control they seem to be of a conversation held with people they probably didn’t know five minutes ago. 

“I’m gonna go find us something to drink,” Seungcheol says, patting Jun on the back before walking away with Minghao closely following his steps. 

And Jun is left alone. Still, in a house full of people, he sticks his hands in the front bottom of his purple jeans. They had really been Minghao’s suggestion, along with the slick yellow button up and a pair of red boots. It was comfy, and Seungcheol had assured him he really did look good, so he hadn’t dwelled much on it when leaving the hotel room. 

He debates joining Mingyu and Joshua’s crowd for a second, but the growing scent of tobacco and beer has him making his way to the door after he raises his hand in a greeting. Josh manages to signal him to the backyard before Jun leaves, and he wonders whether he’s simply pointing in the direction of the live band, or Vernon, or you. 

As he walks outside, bumping bodies with a never-ceasing crowd, he discovers it’s the later. The outside of the house is just as impressive as the inside, or, as he finds once he begins to look around, even more. 

The entire yard (or at least the part that’s closest to the house) has been decked in continuous rows of fairy lights, hanging from the trees like a mere reproduction of the constellations shining up above. There are at least five campfires, all surrounded by people holding guitars or dancing along to the songs being played by a live band nearby. Their silhouettes are reflected on the ground, a product of the blazing fire, and it’s almost like they’re dancing with the people themselves, more than being a plain reflection of them. 

It’s almost like a scene taken right out of a move, only livelier than any he could ever think of. 

Jun finds you with your back against a tree, sitting cross-legged on a furry carpet, completely enthralled in the music. There’s a series of carpets draped all over the grass, the exact same kind he saw inside, completing the part of the scene that connects both places. As he walks over to you, he wonders where the rest of the band is, with you being alone in the backyard, until he sees Seungkwan and Chan, still hanging close together, sitting a few feet away with what he assumes is another group. A part of him is thankful at the seeming privacy, finding a bit odd how comfortable he is in the middle of a growing crowd when just a few minutes ago he had felt overwhelmed by the loneliness behind it. But then he turns to look at you, smiling carelessly even with your eyes closed, and he knows it’s not a product of the environment.

It's because of you.

“I just wanted to say congratulations,” Jun says, making sure to fall as carefully as possible as he sits down next to you. “Tonight was amazing. Truly, got me tearing up at all.”

“You’ve got your own lyrics to thank for that, mister,” you say, followed by a laugh. You’re still in your concert outfit, although wearing a pair of sneakers as opposed to the platform shoes that had been paired up with the colorful overalls. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t the only one tearing up tonight. I think Hoshi even cried a bit himself.”

“He probably cried at the crowd making tiger claws back at him more than he did at the lyrics.” 

“Yeah, Vernon told him not to do it but he did it anyway!”

“Where are those two, by the way?”

“Somewhere next to where the band is playing,” you answer. You close your eyes as you speak, resting your back against the tree. “I just wanted to get away from everything. Sometimes it’s fun to just observe from a distance.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been looking at life from a distance for so long, sometimes I forget what it is to actually be living it. I guess it makes for some interesting lyrics though, so it’s been kind of worth it, at least in that way,” Jun says, smiling at you even when you don’t see him. He moves closer to you as he hugs his knees to his chest, feeling the top of your shoulder brush against his. “I think coming with you guys on tour might change that.”

“It’s the rock-star life, huh?” You smile, and Jun can’t help but notice it’s a mirroring of his own smile. In some way, it looks just as vulnerable. He looks away when he feels his cheeks heat up. “You know, you’re much different from what I thought you were when I used to see you at the office.” 

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. I just know I really like talking to you. Every day, I really look forward to being around you,” you laugh, and when he turns to look back at you, you’re finally looking at him again. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Wen Junhui.”

“Says the rock-star,” he laughs. He’s smiling, holding his knees as close to his chest as he can manage as he tries to hide his fluester in his body language. Not that it’s working, anyways. “I’m just some guy.”

“You’re the most interesting guy I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, and by the way your eyes set on the sky, Jun isn’t completely sure if you’re talking to him or if you’re simply talking to the stars, trying to set your story in the skies for the entire world to see. It makes him smile even wider, anyways. 

“I wonder which one shines brighter. From down here, they look almost the same. But maybe it’s just the distance that taints our perspective,” you mutter, pointing to the lights on the trees. 

“I’d like to think it’s the stars,” Jun comments. “When I was a kid, I always enjoyed watching them. I’d find patterns and have them in my head for weeks as a sort of picture out of a coloring book. Somehow, the stars always seemed to have the answers to every single question that would run through my head, even when miles away.”

“You speak like that and call yourself ‘some guy’,” you laugh. “It’s always poetry coming out of your lips, and I’d listen to every single bit of it.”

The conversation stops, but silence never envelops the both of you, because there is music all around. And there are people dancing, so when you lose focus on each other and gian it in your surroundings, their movement is everything you see. It’s almost as if they’re dancing for the two of you to watch, and neither of you notice the moment your head comes to rest in Jun’s shoulder, way too immersed in a ballet of silhouettes to make anything out of the sudden movement. 

“I hope tonight was good,” you say. “It felt different from other nights, and I don’t know what it was. I’ve never felt that way when performing at home. It felt almost magical, standing there, under the limelight, in front of all those people. Maybe it’s just me, though.” 

Jun shakes his head, muttering a soft no as an answer. You turn to look at each other when he starts speaking, still as close as before. But now he gets to look at you as he speaks. 

“I can’t begin to imagine what you must have felt. I’m not familiar with that side of the gig,” he says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. Somehow, the beer he had drank back at the club was still making his blood run wild through his veins, cheeks reddening at the eye contact. “I wish you could’ve seen it from my eyes. Listened to it through my ears, felt what I felt the moment you started singing. I’ve never seen you shine any brighter.”

"You’ve been attending our concerts long enough. Well,if the fifteen person presentations back home even count as concerts.”

“I’ve been to all of your concerts,” he laughs. “And believe me, tonight was really special.” 

“It’s the Moonwalker’s magic,” you say, and Jun turns to look at you. “You saw the place, it was special. It made it special.”

And he doesn’t know if it’s the effect of the lights shining above your head, or the remaining adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he’s sure he can hear his heart beating against his chest. He can hear it over the loud music, thumping so hard his mind goes blank, falling closer to you as he begins to lean in. 

Because even when far away from the Moonwalker, he’s still smiling the same. He feels just as happy, somewhere in the backyard of a stranger’s house. The place is special, for sure, but only as much as you made it. 

“It wasn’t the Moonwalker that was magical. It was you.”

And you can hear him, because even when the world around you is spinning completely out of order, his smile is still front and center in your eyes. He’s smiling at you and everything else only but circles around it. 

As a new song starts playing from a record player far away, Jun kisses you under a thousand fairy lights. You’re still not sure of which one shines brighter -the artificial lights or the stars high above- but as Jun’s hand finds yours over your lap, you decide you don’t really care. 

A part of you would really like to think nothing had changed after the kiss. 

In reality, the two of you had been so flustered he had ran back to Seungcheol and Minghao while you went to find Vernon and Hoshi, refusing to say anything about the moment to any of them. It was part of some unofficial and unspoken deal, sealed with only a look, sparing the both of you of any kind of conversation immediately afterwards. It had been a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, and nothing else. 

That’s what you told yourself the entire night, even when questioned by Seungkwan about the sudden giddiness in your smile and the change in your gaze, slightly unfocused on the world in front of you, as if something more important was playing inside your head. As if that something was the memory of the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours, leaving your skin tingling as an aftermath of his touch. As if that something had been the way he had smiled at you right after, looking as if the affection you’d just shared was as unbelievable to him as it was to you. 

In all honesty, Jun’s kiss was more than one of the many that were shared that night by the people around you. It wasn’t just a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, because the way you had looked at each other just before your lips connected had been a long time coming. That was the product of months of unknown pining; of you looking for him as soon as you entered the office, and of him not being able to take his eyes off you as soon as he saw you walking by. It was a product in the exchange that came with you singing for the world the words he had shared with you in messy scribbles over coffee-stained paper, something about the entire thing feeling growingly intimate the thought ran through your head. 

Because even when he wasn’t writing songs for you, or about you, he still trusted you with them. In your eyes, that was worth more than him signing one of them with your name on top of the page for everyone to see. And while you were sure it wasn’t an act of love (or at least not yet), you couldn’t deny it always opened the door for that possibility to walk in. Or for you to walk towards it, at least. Just like his songs, and for months on end, Jun had always been there. 

Well, at least up until the night he kissed you. 

You weren’t sure if it was intentional or fate making a cruel joke out of your feelings, but Jun had been avoiding you. As much as he could be avoiding you in the span of a few hours, at least. 

“Wanna sit with me on the bus?” 

You can’t really tell what Vernon’s wearing. He’s sitting next to you on the curb in front of the bus, a pair of sparkly sunglasses resting atop of his nose. He’s wearing a yellow hat that matches the color of his shoes, but that doesn’t really go with any of the other pieces of his outfit. 

“Aren’t you gonna sit with Hao?” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” Vernon drinks from a styrofoam cup he has on his hand. It’s the same as yours, so it’s probably to-go coffee from the hotel’s restaurant. “He’s been trying to talk about some outfit ideas he had during the concert last night. He called it a revelation or something. I’m pretty sure Seungkwan could be of more use to that conversation than me.”

You don’t really want to sit with Vernon. And it’s not that you don’t enjoy his company, because out of everyone in the band, he’s always been the one you’re closest to. But somehow, you know sitting next to Vernon will prevent you from any chances of even talking to Jun in the next six hours until you reach the next spot. You’re not sure if he’s even actually avoiding you, but you don’t really want to be correct. 

“Are you kidding? You wear this kind of outfits and you think you don’t have a sense of fashion? Vern, if anything, you’ve always been the Mick Jagger amongst all of us.” 

“Okay, those stage outfits were chosen by Minghao, it wasn’t really me putting together those suits and - whatever he has me wearing all the time.” 

You roll your eyes, playfully. 

“Although, I guess I could use this chance to keep him from putting me in another sparkly overall like the one from last night.”

“But you were such a star! It looked pretty nifty if you ask me.” 

“Keep going and I’ll tell him to find the most ridiculous hats for our next concert, just you wait!”

The rest of the band starts walking out of the hotel, Chan’s laughter pulling your attention from Vernon. As they walk next to you, you decide to ignore Hoshi’s tiger print overalls and Mingyu’s conversation of how he had met and talked to George Harrison at the party once Joshua had walked away from him.

“I don’t believe George Harrison would ever like to be entertained by your presence, Gyu. There were definitely groovier people to be around last night.”

“It’s not my fault you decided talking to Seungcheol was more important than stickin’ around, we literally see the guy every day.”

“Hey, I’m your manager!” Seungcheol wines from the hotel door, walking behind a groggy Seungkwan.

“Yeah, we literally see you every day,” Mingyu retorts. He has one foot on the bus steps, only turning to argue with the eldest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you so often, with all your random hair-do’s.”

“Can it and get in, we’re late anyways. Everyone keep steppin’!”

“The only reason we’re late is because you couldn’t stop talking to your girlfriend on the phone,” Mingyu lets out before climbing in, somehow managing to avoid getting yelled at yet again. 

You get up after Vernon, following him into the bus as soon as Mingyu, Josh and Seungcheol had gotten in. You’d seen Seungkwan, Hoshi and Chan passing by, and quickly found them sitting together near a small kitchen area. 

The bus itself isn’t much different from others you’ve seen, with rows of faux leather seats set one after the other along the central aisle. All the way to the back there’s an area with what looks like a small bed, a door leading to a tight bathroom and a small kitchen space consisting of two cabinets and a microwave. And every single thing is either muted yellow or a dark orange, making the entire espace look probably smaller than it actually is. It’s comfortable enough, though. 

“Hey, Vern, come here,” Minghao calls from one of the seats. He’s resting his back against the window, with his feet on the couch and his knees pulled close to his chest. A small notepad rests on top of them, having only looked up from his sketches to greet the bassist. “Let me show you what I’ve been thinking of. I swear, the setting of the Moonwalker gave me so much clarity on what I want to put all of you guys in for the rest of the tour.” 

“Hao, give Josh a groovy Bob Dylan inspired hat!” 

“You wear the damn Bob Dylan inspired hat if you want, see how groovy it looks on your head.” 

Vernon looks at you to give you a small smile before sitting down next to Minghao as you walk past, stealing one of Hoshi’s snacks before plopping down on the seat behind him. You shift in your seat, hearing the slick material of the seat squeaking against the courness of your jeans. You quickly look at the small smiling daisies Minghao had painted with black markers all over the light surface, making for an interesting pattern when looked at from far away. Your fingers trace over the figures as you rest your head on the window, closing your eyes until you feel someone coming to sit right next to you. You had quickly placed your book on the seat when sitting down, but you find it on top of Jun’s lap as you see it’s him who’s by your side. 

“What an interesting thing to be reading!” He exclaims, looking at the beat up copy of On The Road. “You’re a Kerouac fan?” 

“You’ve read Kerouac?” You ask. 

Jun smiles. “Of course not,” he says, before breaking into a laugh. He doesn’t give you the book back, but turns it to read the back cover. “Read to me? It will keep us both entertained.” 

Without focusing too carefully on it, you can hear the distinct crisp sound of Joshua’s guitar coming from the front of the bus, and can make out the first notes of the Stairway to Heaven solo. It sounds better than you’ve heard him play, most likely the product of constant practice. But it all disappears when you turn to look at Jun. 

Smiling at you, Jun lets you straighten up on your seat before placing his head on your shoulder as he hands you the copy. You’re surprised by how familiar it feels, and feel your lips curling up at the memory of doing the exact same thing the night before. 

And you know that things have changed from the kiss, because now you’re not able to ignore the feeling in your chest that arises when Jun takes your hand in his. And you can only wonder if he feels the same, because he lets out a soft sigh the minute you tighten the grip, nuzzling his cheek against the fuzzy fabric of your corduroy jacket. 

Smiling at his touch, your eyes start glazing over the print as you begin to read. 

“I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up…”

The dinner lounge of the second hotel is much fancier than the first one. 

The entire place looks like it’s been draped in velvet, every single ridge looking as smooth as a crease in the fabric. There’s a combination of wooden panels and wall-height mirrors adorning the walls, only interrupted by the golden frames of the windows. A dome rises on the center of the center, a thousand red roses painted in a mosaic of tinted glass, while the rest of the ceiling is covered in the exact same wood as the walls. The tables are all draped in expensive looking tablecloths, placed carefully under meticulously set tableware, and they’re accompanied by tufted chairs, all of them in matching red. The dark colors in the scheme makes the entire place look dim, despite all the chandeliers shining bright against up above the clients’ heads. There are candles decorating the tables, along with fresh roses matching the ones in the dome, but they serve more as a simple ambiance decoration than an actual light source.

And, even though the city they had been in had been just as big as the one they’re in now, and the budget had not changed in the slightest, the shiny grand piano that sits at the center of the small wooden stage at the back of the restaurant had caught Jun’s eyes as soon as you had walked in for dinner. 

It was supposed to be a group dinner, but Mingyu, Chan and Minghao had gone sight-seeing, Vernon had fallen asleep and Seungcheol had stayed back in his room to rest (and, probably, talk to his girlfriend on the phone while eating something from the room service). At the end, it’s dinner of five instead of a dinner of ten, and while it would have been nice to share it with everyone, the company you had was more than enough. 

“This place is groovy! Oh, Seungcheol went all out with this hotel,” Josh exclaims as you sit down at a table neighboring the windows, all five of you immediately drawn to the exterior scene. “I’d say he did an excellent job booking if it weren’t for the fact I’m rooming with Hoshi.”

“Hey!” The younger exclaims. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent roommate. Best you’ll ever have, you’ll see.” 

“Yeah, I’ll start thinking that once you pick up your dirty socks from the floor after taking them off, that’s not groovy at all.”

“Jesus, can we not talk about Hoshi’s dirty socks while at the table, that’s fucking gross.”

“You’re just overreacting, and please just stop saying groovy,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes and picking up the pastel pink menu from the table, locking his eyes on the cardboard. “Anyways, this one burger looks way too nifty to pass it up.”

“I was thinking of ordering the same thing,” Seungkwan says, closing the menu. 

“Have you seen the kind of restaurant we’re in? Order a pasta, or a salad, not a plain burger, go with the groove.” 

“Do you think we’re Seungcheol, Joshua? If you had asked for his card like we told you, maybe we’d be buying pasta and wine for the five of us without you having to tell us about it!”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re scary when you’re angry?” Joshua asks, probably deciding on a burger as well as he imitates Seungkwan and places the menu back on the table. 

“Only sometimes,” Soonyoung responds, smiling. 

You’re not listening to their argument, though, with your chin resting over your hand and your gaze lost somewhere in the movement of a stranger. 

It’s funny how being in a completely different country, in a city a million miles away, there’s some sense of familiarity behind simply watching people walking by. You’re not sure if it’s just the mere action, or maybe a combination of the movement in a similarly urban setting, with the lights reflecting upon the crowd as a sort of kaleidoscopic filter, but it never feels entirely too different. 

“Do you want to play a game?” Jun asks, whispering right into your ear. He’s leaning close to your body, sitting between you and Joshua. You can make out the scent of his cologne as he scoots even closer to you to point to a stranger outside the window. “Like when we counted the number of headlights on the highway on our way here.”

You nod, words suddenly stuck on your throat as soon as you see Seungkwan looking at the both of you. Because truly, it was oh so very easy to get lost in the moment whenever Jun was around, and the thought has you smiling as soon as you notice. It’s oh so very easy to get lost in him. 

“Okay, we’ll make it interesting. Whoever wins buys the other a cherry cola!” he says, his voice still sounding just as soft. If he’s aware of Seungkwan’s stare, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. “Let's spot all the people that look like they’re dressed by Minghao after looking at the Moonwalker, starting… now!”

But his words have you laughing, so deeply you can feel it in your chest as you throw your head back. He looks at you, a care-free smile etched all over your face, and he can’t resist the laugh that forms at the center of the stomach, completely imitating your actions as the rest of the guys simply observe. And it’s amazing, because somehow, you have found just enough comfort in the presence of each other to be able to forget about everyone else. It’s not shy smiles and nervous laughs when in public, but full on grins and bursts of laughter. 

The thing no one notices though, completely distracted by the boisterous laugh, is Jun placing his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb moving in delicate circles against the fabric of your jeans. He doesn’t spare a second thought on it, finding way too much comfort in your closeness to make it a conscious action. And you aren’t even surprised on how natural his touch feels by now, because, somehow, it feels like coming home. 

Or maybe they do, but they just smile at the sight. There’s something enthralling about watching two people falling in love, bit by bit, gesture by gesture. It’s a tell behind the warmth of a smile and the fondness of a look, and while it’s not entirely common, it’s too beautiful to disrupt. 

“Josh, have you really been looking at your reflection this entire time?” 

It’s late, and everyone but you and Jun have left the restaurant by the time the piano player arrives.

You’ve long since finished your meal, having shared a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs after Jun had said he wasn’t even that hungry anyways. You had ordered two cups of coffee and a shared berry panna cotta, way too lost in making conversation about everything and anything to actually notice the passing of time. In reality, it’s only when the coffee has run cold and the musician has started playing that you notice an hour has passed since the guys had left for their rooms. 

The song is not one you recognize, but apparently does, judging from the movement of his fingers against the table. He’s looking at the musician while he runs his fingers on the tablecloth like it’s some sort of invisible piano, making sure to get every single movement right in a tempo that perfectly matches the one that’s being played. You’re not sure if he notices, but his body has begun to sway ever so slightly, somehow matching the movement of his fingers.

The place is the same, yet it feels like a completely different one, even when the only thing that has changed is the music. It’s almost atemporal, like it could be night and day at the exact same time, as if it was simply something out of a dream. 

“Do you know this song?” 

Jun nods. He keeps his eyes on the musician, and a part of you wonders if it’s because he wishes that were him. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he answers, smiling. “I used to play it when I was growing up, back when I was learning. I remember how excited my parents were when I finally got the movements right after years of practice. I guess a part of their excitement that day was a part of what made me fall so in love with music that I decided it was what I wanted to do with my life.” 

“How did you learn to play the piano? Seungcheol says you’re really good, and yet, you’ve never played with me around.”

“My mom’s a piano teacher. She used to give classes at this one prestigious school in our neighborhood, and I would hide behind the kitchen door and listen whenever she had a student,” Jun says. “I always liked how it sounded, so one night I just sat down on the piano and started playing. My mom started giving me classes the very next day.” 

“And what about composing? How did that start?” 

You had ordered a refill for your coffee and drink from your cup as Jun starts talking. 

“I don’t know, maybe with school, or maybe just with books in general. I was always dreaming, thinking about stories. Sometimes I couldn’t get the ones I was learning about out of my mind, and before I knew it, there were so many scenarios being born in my head that I simply had no idea what to do with them.” 

“So you started writing them.” 

Jun nods. “After some time, they started turning into songs. I would be looking at the lyrics and would suddenly start hearing a certain tune playing from the back of my mind. It was only a matter of time until I realized what I kept writing were songs rather than just tales, and they started meaning something more to me. Music makes the world go round, but it’s the lyrics that give it meaning.” 

“Said like a true poet,” you say, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you raise your cup to then once more. “I can tell your lyrics mean a lot to you. I know it probably sounds a bit silly, but I can feel it, you know? The emotion behind them. The words come alive before they’re even in my mouth.”

“Sometimes I can’t really tell what I’m feeling until I turn it into a song. The words come from a place so deep inside I can’t reach them on my own, but have to turn onto a pen and a piece of paper to know what they are,” he finally looks away from the musician. He’s still smiling, softly, gently. “It's a little weird. They feel both so deeply personal yet completely different from myself, as if the Jun that exists in the songs is a completely different person from the Jun in the real world.”

You fall quiet. You try to make sense of Jun’s words in your head as he reaches to grab a hold of your hand, but they’re way too beautiful, too meaningful, for you to tamper with. So you feel your heart grow warm at the passion behind them, looking at the man in front of you like he had just painted the stars upon the night sky. 

“Will you dance with me?” 

“Jun, no one is dancing.” 

“And when have you let that stop you?”

Setting the napkin over the table, Jun gets up from his seat. He stretches his arm out at you, offering his hand, his silver rings reflecting the light upon its touch. And he looks at you, eyes sparkling brighter than ever under the restaurant’s delicate lightning, completely absorbed in the way your body imitates his movements.

You let Jun lead you through the sea of tables, all the way to where the little stage is located. There’s a small space that has been left between the stage and the neighboring tables, and you wonder if maybe dancing is what it’s meant for, despite not being used for it. But Jun is quick to replace your thoughts until they’re only about him, pulling you close to his chest and letting his hand rest against your waist. 

“Just focus on me and I’ll focus on you,” he whispers, moving to talk right against your ear. “Hold me a bit closer and forget about everything else.” 

Pulled flush against his frame, you let your hands fall on his back, closing your eyes as you allow him to sway you to the rhythm of the music. He moves in a way that almost has you wondering if maybe you are flying, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his dancing or if it’s just because it’s him. 

You recognize the song the minute Jun starts singing the words. It’s soft, so much you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been standing so close to him, basically hugging him flush against yourself. It’s Love Is (The Tender Trap) by Frank Sinatra, and you smile at the similarity between the lyrics and the feeling in your stomach. 

He gives you a twirl and it’s like there are a thousand butterflies flying within you, knowing there really is no getting out, because there is no denying something that manages to make you feel so wonderful. He smiles at you and you’re sure you’re falling in love with Wen Junhui, thinking of the way his kiss had made you tingle once upon a starry night. 

“Keep on steppin’, you’re falling behind!” 

Jun laughs, turning back to face you. The breeze ruffles his hair as he moves, thin strands falling onto his forehead. The sky is a bright blue and the sun is shining with all its might, but Jun’s light blue button up and beige bell-bottoms still rustle in the wind. 

“It’s not my fault you walk that fast,” you say, quickening your pace to catch up with him. He moves smoothly as you meet him, circling your waist with his arm and holding you next to him as you walk. 

“Ah, that’s more like it,” he mumbles as he resumes his walk. His pace is not as fast, looking so much more at ease as he looks around at his surroundings. 

It had been Jun’s idea to spend your free day walking around the city, after Mingyu and the rest of his expedition crew had talked about their experience over breakfast. Some of the other guys had left earlier, excited about going to whatever stores they had seen on the bus before reaching the hotel, leaving you and Jun to simply stroll around and see what you find. 

“This is nice,” he mentions. “It’s been a while since I felt this relaxed.” 

“It’s nice you can feel relaxed in the middle of a tour,” you say, giggling. “But I get what you mean, having a break in the schedule, even if we’re only starting.”

“I think you’re the only rockstar I’ve met that actually uses the word schedule in their daily vocabulary.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I’m the only ‘rockstar’ you’ve met. I mean, besides… Seungkwan. Honestly, he’s the most rockstar material out of all of us.”

“Okay, Barbra Streisand.”

“You have not met Barbra Streisand!” 

“In my dreams.”

“Oh, I didn’t know those counted.”

The boulevard is lively. There’s people strolling up and down on both sides of the street, very much like you and Jun, with their pace and actions revealing there’s not much hurry behind their walks. Cars of all models and colors drive through the street, your walk having a varied background orchestra composed of revving engines, passing conversations and the occasional music that was audible from the entrance of some business. It made for the typical city noise, not much different from the one at home, but somehow perfectly fitting for the particularities of the sight. 

The two of you walk while holding the other, occasionally bumping shoulders with some other pedestrian when not paying particular attention. There’s truly not much on either of your minds behind the wonder of getting to know yet another city and enjoying the warmth of a sunny Thursday evening in each other’s company.

“Is there anything you wanna do?” Jun asks, slowing down his pace but not completely stopping. 

“Not right now,” you answer. “We could stop somewhere for a soda or something later, if you want. You know, since you won yesterday and all.” 

“Let’s go in here, then,” Jun says, moving his hand from your waist to your hand, softly pulling on you to the side. 

You quickly follow him as he walks inside one of the stores, never losing the grip on his hand. The front is small, walls painted red and a bright purple signboard hanging over the glass doors, reading Vintage Records and Books, along with a few music notes that look hand drawn over the surface in multiple colors. There are crates full of books and vinyls, the covers of all of them a bit faded by the sun or scraped over the passage of time. At a first glance you can identify some Johnny Cash copies alongside the assorted records, what must have been a bright green cover now looking surprisingly muted. 

And once you walk inside, the interior is just as lively as the outside. The place is covered in shelves, littered with books on one side of the store and with records in the other, with small placards dividing the shelves and categorizing the products. You can tell it’s a wide variety, with hundreds upon hundreds of colorful covers composing a contrast with the burnt purple of the walls. There are horizontal lines painted all across the walls in a bright green and an almost creamy white, which is replicated in a triangle patterned rug of the exact same colors, resting in the middle of the store. 

Among the shelves, there’s an assortment of indoor plants hanging from the ceiling in bright green ceramic pots, along with a few small trees located between some of the shelves themselves. On the rare vacant spaces in the walls there are band posters or book quotes, some of them autographed and some of them pasted one over the other with washed out tape. 

It feels oddly warm inside the shop, and you wonder if it’s merely because of the way the light breaks in from the tall windows up front. There’s a faint scent of flowers that reaches your nose as soon as you walk in, mixing in with the smell of paper and wood. And it’s heavenly.

“Hey, welcome!” Says someone from behind the bright pink counter. He looks around Jun’s age, with a long mane of dark brown hair that goes below his shoulders. He’s wearing a black hat and a green jacket, grinning at the two of you over the pages of a magazine. “Let me know if you see something you’re down with!” 

“It smells nice in here,” Jun tells you, but he must have spoken loud enough for the man to hear, because his grin grows in size. 

“Thanks, it’s home-made potpourri! I make it myself when there aren’t as many customers coming in,” he says, gesturing to a few jars displayed on a small counter. A few minutes ago, you wouldn’t think it was actually possible for someone to smile so big. “It’s for sale too, and it works really well on large spaces! Looks pretty groovy when it’s on display, if I do say so myself.” 

Jun smiles back, walking over to one of the tall stands where a bright orange sign announces a deal on the records.

“Oh, if you buy one of those, you can take a book from this bin right here for free,” the man says. You can’t make out the letters in his name tag from a distance, but you’re almost sure they start with an S. “You can try them out on that player over there, see if it’s nifty. They’re all second hand, but the quality’s off the hook.” 

You look around as Jun’s fingers graze over the records, flicking them so quick you’re not sure if he’s actually reading the title before discarding them. You hadn’t noticed the man had a record playing in the turntable he had signaled to, quickly recognizing the guitar solo of Jimi Hendrix’s Love or Confusion. 

“Hey, wanna get this Bob Dylan one for Josh? See if he likes the hat?” Jun asks, holding a record in his hand without turning back at you. “Maybe there’s a Kerouac book in that bin you can take with you. You know, for the next bus ride - oh, this one’s groovy!”

“Oh, of course you’d pick a Barbra Streisand record.”

“Yeah, she’s my best friend!” Jun giggles. “You know, besides from you. And Seungcheol, but he doesn’t really count.” 

“I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry. He won’t know you like me better.”

“A lot better.” 

You spend hours browsing the shop, laughing at the silly jokes made by the cashier (whose name is Seokmin) and talking about pasts spent together and pasts spent apart, conversations sewn together by a smile. You had even slow-danced to a couple Elvis songs, all while resting your head against Jun’s chest as Seokmin clapped at the two of you for, as he had said it, resembling a romantic scene from one of his favorite movies. 

And you’re not surprised at how familiar it feels, because in the last few days, Jun had come to mean much more to you than anything you could have ever thought. If you were as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, you’d even think it’s because your conexion runs even deeper than the simple process of falling for a friend, but you merely smile as the thought begins to form inside your head. And you laugh at how much it sounds like one of his songs. 

Because there’s as much beauty in the way he smiles as there is in the way it makes you feel. 

The sun’s beginning to set by the time you and Jun leave the record shop. The wind has gotten colder and the breeze has grown stronger, but as Jun tugs you close to his side, you don’t think you’ve ever felt warmer. 

He’s holding just as many records as you’re holding books, letting you make all the picks from the bin once he had purchased his vinyls, along with a jar of Seokmin’s home-made potpourri. 

His hand searches for yours as soon as you step outside.

“Can’t believe we’re almost there.”

The walk back to the hotel is surprisingly quick. 

Jun had been humming the melody to a song Seokmin had played back when you were at the shop, adding a slight bounce to his step as the pitch in his voice rose and fell with the beat of the song. He had smiled the entire way back, occasionally stopping his hum to point at the colors in the sky or their effects on your shadows on the ground, never failing to look at the smaller details that worked together in one beautiful, cohesive picture. 

But it still feels so much quicker than it had been the other way around, almost seems shorter, as if it had been a different path altogether.

Maybe it’s because you’re not as distracted by the storefront and the other passerbys, or maybe it’s just the feeling of bathing in the setting sun when making your way back that somehow makes the entire thing seem shorter. Jun had stopped to get a pair of pastries and two cups of coffee at a small bakery you hadn’t noticed earlier but went unaverted once the signs lit up, which now await inside a small paper bag and in two paper cups, respectively. As you sip from one of the cups, you think it’s the best coffee you’ve had in a long while. 

Jun suggests yet another game on the way back, making you smile as he tries to locate every single red platform shoe worn by a woman over 5’0”, which, surprisingly, aren’t really that many. And you should have guessed from the moment he had said it, but he was just trying to let you win (because, after all, he had won the last two games and just had to pay the coke back). 

“Ah, you’re getting lucky with your pick!” 

“You were the one that chose what we’d look for!” 

“Just let it be our secret,” he says, turning to wink in your direction. 

You can feel the coolness of the breeze nipping at your nose when you finally reach the hotel, walking through the glass doors with Jun following close behind. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“Do you want to get dinner?” You ask. You can smell the sugar and the cinnamon from the pastries, and your mouth begins to water. “There’s this other pasta dish on the menu that sounds just as good as the one we had yesterday.” 

Jun purses his lips, giving a slight squeezing to your hand. “Let’s get room service, I want to show you something.” 

He starts walking towards the elevator, moving slowly and letting you admire the pastel green lobby in all of its glory. There’s some faint jazz music playing as you walk through the lobby, which you hadn’t noticed until then. A big tree rises from the center of the room, matching some smaller ones that are perched next to the deep green tufted couches and complimenting the flower arrangements that have been used as decorations in both the small coffee tables and the bar at the reception. It’s a slightly different vibe than the one from the dining hall, but somehow, both of them look just as fancy. 

“What is it?” You ask. 

“You’ll see.”

“Can I get a clue?”

“No, you’re going to help me finish it.”

“Please don’t tell me you also collect those freaky deaky puzzles Chan likes to put together in his free time.”

Jun giggles, shaking his head as you reach the elevator. “Ew, the anatomy ones? No, no way.” 

The way up to Jun’s room is spent with him trying to guess the elevator music by singing random lyrics and seeing which one sounds best. Not that he got a single one right, but it was certainly entertaining to watch him try. When you finally reach the 10th floor, Jun is singing the lyrics to Cher’s Where Do You Go to a jazz melody very much similar to the one from the lobby, and you’re sure he’s only doing it to make you smile. 

“Bienvenue to my humble abode,” Jun mutters as he opens the door to his room, making sure to bow down and open his arm to signal the room, completing the entire gesture with a short giggle. “I escaped having Hoshi as a roommate so I have the room all to myself.” 

“And you have Seungkwan’s piano,” you mention as you walk inside, pointing to the small electronic piano that was carefully positioned next to the window. “Does he know?”

“No, I stole it from the van last night,” he answers, laughing and plopping onto the bed. “Oh, I’m so tired!”

The room is not too different from yours; a muted orange wallpaper matching the fuzzy carpet. Both twin beds in Jun’s room are covered in a dandelion yellow duvet, one of them holding all of his luggage while Jun rests on the other one (the one he must have slept in last night, closest to the window). There’s a small television on the vanity, the box a combination of bright beige plastic and faux wood, surprisingly going along with the white lamps that stand on both sides of it. 

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” You ask, coming to sit in one of the chairs next to the vanity. They’re big, tufted, and the color matches with the one of the duvets. The chair is not the most comfortable, but as long as the bed is, you don’t really have to worry about it. 

Jun’s purchases lay next to him on the bed, Barbra Streisand’s Stoney End sitting on top of the pile. He had bought five records, four for himself and one for you (though he had refused to tell you which one it was, insisting it would be a surprise). You had selected five books to match his purchase, including a copy of Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, which Jun had suggested you take because of the colorful cover. 

“I’ve been working on a song,” he mutters, still facing down on the bed. The words come out muffled, but they’re still audible. “I think you’ll like it.”

You let out a laugh. “I like all of your songs.” 

“This one’s special,” he says, moving so he’s resting on his shoulders. His hair has gotten a bit disheveled, falling all over his face as his lips curl up in a hazy smile. “I’m working on the melody, too. I just need to hear your opinion about it.” 

“You’ve been inspired,” you comment, reaching over to the vanity where Jun had placed the pastries bag. You take a roll into your hand and notice it’s still warm. 

Jun winks before sitting up. “You’d know all about it.” 

“All I do is sing your songs,” you say, breaking a piece of bread and tucking it into your mouth. It melts as soon as it meets your tongue. “You’re the artist behind the art. Should I start calling you Da Vinci?” 

“I like Monet better. I’m a huge fan of the Impression Sunrise, even got a poster of it up in my room back at home,” Jun answers. He moves so he’s sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Seungkwan’s piano, grabbing a small notebook from the bedside table. You recognize it instantly, because it’s the one he always carries with him. He pats the space next to himself. “Here, I’ll show you.” 

You leave your things on the bed next to all his luggage, books carefully propped against a faux leather duffle bag. Jun takes a piece of the cinnamon bread as soon as you sit down next to him, moving closer as he does, a whiff of his cologne reaching your nose. The duvet is of fine linen, surprisingly soft against your fingertips as you place your hands at your sides. 

“I started writing it the other day,” he says, opening his notebook and placing it on his laps. You try to take a peek at it, but the (messily written) words aren’t readable from a distance. It looks beautiful though, fine lines of black ink rising like a carefully painted artwork on the thick, creamy white paper. “When you fell asleep on the bus.” 

“It’s your fault for making me read to you!” You laugh, moving and bumping his shoulder with yours. “And, in my defense, the top of your head was extremely comfortable.” 

“Yeah it’s like a portable pillow,” he jokes. “Maybe I should start advertising it.”

“Bet Seungkwan would take you up on it, he got asleep on the bus too!” 

There is something about Jun that makes everything seem lighter, helping the seconds run fast against the clock. 

“Here, I’ll show you the melody,” he says, straightening his back and placing his fingers on the keyboard. The assortment of rings he’s wearing had felt cool against your fingers. “I stayed up all night to come up with it. I haven’t finished the lyrics yet, but the music is already here.” 

“Is that why you asked me for help? Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” 

Jun smiles, but doesn’t turn to look at you. “No, not really,” he mutters. 

He plays a key, but doesn’t give it much thought. It’s a quick, crisp sound, not really one that’s a part of a movement, even less of a song. Maybe it’s a reflex, like the clicking of the pen had once been, a mere outlet for his nervousness. He keeps his eyes set on his fingers as he speaks, not really directing his words at you but surely saying them because you’re there to hear them. 

His voice is soft, almost shy. “It’s because you’re the inspiration behind it.” 

And he doesn’t say anything else, but lets his fingers graze upon the keys as he starts playing. You’re not exactly sure what you’re thinking of, mind and heart running a thousand beats per second as you feel it thumping against your chest. There’s a feeling growing in your stomach, and whether it's due to adrenaline or some deeper, more complex feeling remains a mystery. 

You close your eyes as Jun plays, each note igniting fireworks in your head. The music flows into your ears like honey, setting light upon the darkest places of your mind, overflowing your senses with Jun’s interpretation. Every single note sounds just like him, as if he’s becoming the music as he’s making it. His fingers run over the keys in the same way an artist’s brush glazes over a canvas, immersing itself in their creation to a point their creation is all they are. He has become a song, a beautifully crafted sonata, making your heart feel warmer with every moment. You know it’s because the song itself is beautiful - but so is he, and that translates into every single sound, every single feeling. 

You let out a gasp as he begins to sing; it’s broken, a few lines here and there. You can tell it’s the bits he’s finished, the ones he’s comfortable with, leaving everything like a game of fill in the blanks. He had sung to you before, either in the song demos or in some practices where he had been finishing a song nearby - but his voice had never sounded sweeter. Your heart tugs against your chest as you listen to him, words coming alive in your head like the ones in the pages of a romance novel. 

“Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man…”

Your hands ball up into fists, scrunching the soft duvet as you try to keep your eyes closed, no matter how much your eyelids are threatening to flutter open. You don’t want to see anything that isn’t him, or his voice; don’t want to feel anything that isn’t the sudden warmth that rises all over your body, making you feel like you’re flying - 

And he stops, hands suddenly moving away from the keyboard after a faulty note. 

“Stop distracting me!” He says, laughing as his cheeks grow red in embarrassment. He hands his hands on his lap, fingers absentmindedly fumbling with the rings he has on. 

You don’t open your eyes, joining him in his laughter and falling on your back onto the bed. You bring your hands to your face, hiding behind them as your laughter grows louder. 

“I wasn’t doing anything!” You answer. 

You feel the space next to you dip as Jun imitates your movement, resting onto his back. His notebook has fallen to the floor, open in half, but he doesn’t notice. He brings his hand to your face, taking your own and moving it away from your face. He props himself up on his elbow, connecting your fingers over the duvet in the space that separates the two of you. 

“Did you like it?” He asks, words falling from his lips between jolts of laughter. His voice is soft, and it feels like velvet against your ears. “You know, before I messed up.” 

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” you whisper, opening your eyes and rolling to your side to look back at him. “Did you really write it because of me?”

Jun nods. He’s smiling, looking at you fondly as he searches for the words inside his head. “You’re a song in and out of yourself.” 

He doesn’t move as you stare into his eyes. Looking at him, you’re suddenly reminded of the night he had kissed you - the same constellations that had shined high above your heads now reflected in his eyes, drawing you deeper into his spell. You feel like you’re falling, the entire world falling as you lay on the bed, his hand on yours the only thing pulling you back into reality. It’s as if the world around you changes every single time you’re with Jun, spinning wildly out of orbit and transforming into an unknown fantasy, with the only sure thing being the way his eyes come to rest upon you. You’re not sure if anything else exists apart from Jun, because suddenly he’s all you can see. All you can feel. 

“And I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” he continues. He keeps his eyes on you as he speaks, as if trying to assure you his words are only for you to hear. “Or maybe I already was, but only just noticed. I hear your voice in every word, see your face every time I turn around with your name etched deep in my heart. I don’t think I could get you out of my head no matter how hard I tried. And I don’t think I would ever want to.” 

You hadn’t noticed there were tears forming in your eyes until one fell down on your hand, ice cold against the warm skin. You open your mouth, searching for words deep down in your heart, but Jun shakes his head. 

“Just… let me say it, you can go after,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming of love my entire life. As far as I can remember, I’ve always dreamed of feeling it. It wasn’t just something out of a fairytale or a novel, not even a dream coming out to a song. It’s been the theme behind all my songs and the happy ending of all my stories. And never would I have thought it would feel like this. Never would I have thought those dreams would become you, but you’re there, in every single word. In every single thought.” 

He moves, fingers caressing the back of your hand as he gives it a squeeze. He moves his hand, placing yours over his chest, directly over his heart. Although faintly, you’re sure you can feel it beat. 

And you move forward, your other hand on his neck, connecting his lips with yours. It’s warm, and you can make out a vague saltness that is no doubt a product of your tears. But they are long forgotten, the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours setting your body on fire as his hands come to rest upon your skin. You can feel your every vein light up as you move as close to him as you can manage, the space between you always weighing upon the both of you no matter how much you try to reduce it, because the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other is one you simply can’t get enough of. 

He opens his eyes, eyelids fluttering open at the need to see you; to set the final piece of the puzzle in his mind. It’s a puzzle that looks, sounds and moves like you, composed of a love that burns too bright to ignore. 

And as he looks at you, resting comfortably on the soft linen sheets, he’s sure he has never seen such a beautiful sight.

The next few days go by in a flash. 

The days start early, as early as the sun goes up and you have breakfast on some terrace with Jun by your side, with the sun reflected upon his skin like a golden veil. They’re spent in jolts of laughter with your friends, soaking in the sun when sight-seeing in all the cities you’ve visited. They’re spent carelessly singing in the bus, with Joshua and Chan backing up the vocals with loud strums of their guitars, not really caring about beat, or tune, or whoever may be listening. They’re spent getting to know the world with the people that make the entire thing worth it, smiling and laughing along. They’re spent in sleepless nights on stages or someone’s backyard, twisting and turning in Jun’s hand as he moves you to the rhythm of the music. They’re spent in him watching you from a balcony, dancing and singing along to the crowds adoring your every move, finding himself lost in your voice. 

And they’re spent in composing, with Jun finding inspiration in the smallest of your movements, lyrics suddenly being born in the crack of a smile and the fondness behind a look. 

By the time the song is finally ready to be sung, he’s still a bit nervous. It feels like a deja vu, with him tapping quickly upon a faux tiled floor. 

He rests his back against a wall, standing next to a closed door. He tries to move out of the way as people pass in a hurry, carrying equipment or reading from lists, simply looking around as he tries to count on the passing of time. He tries to maintain a steady beat with his foot, counting along in his head as he reads from the piece of paper he’s holding. Trying not to think about the sounds of a growing crowd, he can feel the paper crumpling in his hand, thinking that his grip on it might be a little too tight. Nonetheless, he can’t loosen it up, no matter how much he wants to. 

Night has fallen, and he can see the stars from the small window that rises at the top of the wall in front of him. There’s some moonlight breaking in, lighting up the ground and the glass detailings on the colorful tiles. For a second, he thinks of how familiar it feels, to be able to see a picture where there is none, and he smiles. Backstage or not, the night looks the same all around. 

He lets out a big breath, moving his free hand around as he does until he hears the door next to him flutter open. A laughing Chan walks out from it, followed by Josh and Mingyu, all of them with their guitars strapped down and ready to be played. They pat Jun on the back before they follow the small arrows on the ground, walking in the direction of the stage. 

He runs through the lyrics in his head as the rest of the band follows, you walking behind while trying to fix the back of your jacket. Minghao had suggested some fringes on the sleeves to add some “movement” but they had proven a bit impractical when getting stuck whenever you moved your arms. 

“Hey,” Jun says, grabbing your attention. “Do you have a moment?” 

You smile. “What are you doing back here? I thought you and Cheol were gonna watch from the balcony.”

“We are,” he confirms, nodding his head. “I just wanted to say hi.”

His voice is shaking as he speaks, as much as he tries to hide it. You take his free hand in yours, stopping his movements in midair, giving his fingers a slight squeeze as you attempt to bring him some comfort. 

“Are you nervous?” You ask. He simply nods, smiling when he feels you tightening your grip on his hand. “Is it because of the song?” 

“I know it’s a bit silly,” he comments. Despite holding the piece of paper, he runs his hand through his combed-back hair, causing a few strands to fall messily over his forehead. It looks so much better than when it’s gelled up. “But it feels different this time around. I don’t know, It feels a lot more personal somehow.” 

Bringing his hand up to your face, you give it a kiss. He sighs at the feeling. 

“They’re gonna love it, Jun,” you say. 

He smiles at you. “As long as you love it, that’s more than enough for me.” 

“Well, you already know that I do,” you giggle. “I’ll always love every single song you write.”

Laughing with you, he pulls you to his chest as he envelops you in a hug. Sighing against you, he tucks his face in your neck as he feels you hugging him back. You smile, feeling him press a light kiss on the exposed skin. He smells of sugar and cinnamon. 

“Leave them breathless,” he whispers as he breaks apart from the embrace. 

He kisses you one more time, quickly pecking the top of your head before he walks away. You give him one last smile, running your fingers down his arm as you begin to part.  

You walk in opposing directions, and Jun quickens his pace as he climbs the stairs leading to the balcony. He can hear the crowd growing with every step he takes, feeling a knot forming in his stomach as he moves his fingers around in an attempt to control his nerves. The way up seems familiar, consisting in dimly lit hallways and semi-peeled off posters on the walls, and he doesn’t even notice a few minutes have passed by the time he finally reaches the balcony. 

It’s not the Moonwalker, but the place shines just as bright. He greets Seungcheol, placing a palm on his friend’s back as he comes to stand next to him. 

“Hey, I was about to go looking for you,” he says, as a form of greeting. He smiles at his friend and motions to the public below with his beer bottle. “Great turn out tonight! I think this is our biggest venue yet, it’s amazing! I was talking to some guy over there, and he says a story is being printed on the newspapers about how successful the tour has been so far.” 

Jun smiles. “They deserve it. They’re an amazing group.”

“And they have amazing songs,” Seungcheol comments, nudging Jun’s shoulder with his own. 

Jun sets his eyes on the empty stage just as the lights begin to fall. A limelight focuses on the center of it, right where the standing microphone rises high among the sea of instruments. You walk out from the side with the rest of the band following close behind, and just like his very own, everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“We have a very special song for you tonight,” you say. You look up in the direction of the balcony, and Jun feels his heart beat loudly against his chest when you wink at him. “We hope you enjoy the show.” 

A breath gets caught in his throat when Seungkwan starts playing, fingers delicately grazing over the keyboard of his piano. He can feel Seungcheol’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, but all he can focus on is you. 

It’s always been that way, and the feeling on his chest lets him know it always will. It feels like a thousand butterflies finally setting flight. 

He smiles when you begin to sing, forgetting about everything else. The world around him stops existing, and just as the words start leaving your lips, he lets himself go. Because he had spent his entire life dreaming of this moment, thinking about the feeling being born in his chest. And he’s happy he’s waited, because it feels better than he could have ever imagined. 

Completely shaking off his nerves, he closes his eyes and lets out a breath. 

Hold me closer tiny dancer… 

[skellebonez]

He's Been Hurt Enough (Monkie Kid Cursed AU Fanfic)

And here it is, the follow up to Stop Lying To Me! This went through an overall minor rewrite after @winterpower98 posted some more Cursed AU art and I think it turned out much better for it.

Quick note: once again this is my interpretation of a possible way the revelation could go. I decided to go with a “Mac told Sun everything while MK was transformed last time and that’s part of why he got the stuffing beat out of him and was out of commission last fic” angle. (also no I definitely did not accidently post a draft of the summary by itself when I meant to queue this, that totally did not happen(that happened))

Summary: Wukong has questions, Macaque surprisingly has answers, and MK... well, MK is going to be just fine if Macaque has anything to say about it.

Warnings: mild descriptions of healing inuries from the last fic, hint of child neglect if you are familiar with the AU, Macaque is sightly (incredibly) out of it due to medicine

----------

The first thing Macaque noticed when he came to was that his head felt... wobbly, despite the fact he was clearly laying down and not moving. The second thing he noticed was a disgustingly bitter sweet taste sticking to his tongue. The third thing he noticed was that he laying chest down on a (very small and familiar smelling) pile of clothes. The fourth thing, oh it was a lot of things coming very slowly right after the other which was odd, was that he was completely shirtless and that the only reason he noticed this so slowly was half of his body was almost fascinatingly numb, outside of the warmth of the fire that seemed to be burning in front of him. The last thing he noticed was a very close, also very familiar, and very angry (worried?) looking face of a monkey right in front of his (coincidentally blocking most of that fire light).

"Congratulations," Wukong said flatly. "You are officially not dead."

Macaque stared at the other monkey for a moment before attempting to speak, coughing as the dryness of his throat hit him full force. Before he could move himself, Wukong grabbed his face (gently, more gently than he remembered being touched by the other in so long) and held something to his lips. When he tilted the object and water began to hit his lips he opened his mouth and drank, Wukong never allowing the water to flow from the canteen fast enough to risk him choking on it. It must have been emptied after a short while because the Monkey King took it away faster than Macaque would have liked, but it had been more than enough to quench his thirst and allow him to clear his throat and begin talking. "What... happened?"

The angry (worryied?) look on the other's face deepened. "Should I start when I woke up to you bleeding out over my sucessor? Or should I start when I tried to give you medicine the first time you woke up and you shoved the entire thing in your mouth?"

Well. That second bit explained part of the numbness. And the taste. And possibly why his head felt like it was swimming in that iced cream stuff MK liked so much. He was almost certainly, no definitely, very out of it from whatever Wukong had intended to use to dull his pain. Fantastic.

Instead of voicing all of this he simply said "The... first part?" His voice was rough, but firmer than it had been the first time. He had not realized how almost slurred his words has originally sounded. Wukong' expression softened and. Oh... OH, it was a worried look after all. Huh. Macaque did not expect that. That was... well, not new. But he hadn't seen that in a long time. He... missed that. He didn't realize he had missed that.

"I woke up and I smelled... blood," Wukong started softly. "I was confused, I thought that maybe I hadn't been out for very long after we calmed down MK and you hadn't treated my wounds yet but," his hand went to his side where the bandages Macaque and the kid had carefully applied still held tight. "When I looked around I saw you. Laying face down with one arm over him. And you were just. Just COVERED in blood Macaque. I thought you two had been attacked, I didn't know what kind of demon could do that to you and thought that both of you were hurt." He ran a hand down his face, taking a deep breath, reaching over to prepare something behind him. "It wasn't until I rushed over that I realized that MK was passed out and aside from scratches on his arms you were the only one that was badly hurt."

There it was, the memory of what happened finally came back to him. Telling the kid the truth. The kid losing it. Holding him until he was able to fight back the transformation. The claws. The bite. His arm throbbed, the first not numb thing about his body he felt (though not fully painful), and he was surprised that he hadn't noticed his injured arm laying out in front of him until that moment, fully bandaged and (thankfully) not looking like he was missing a chunk of himself after all.

"MK's been out since I got up. You were completely unresponsive until early sundown, and when you did wake up you were in too much pain to tell me anything. I tried to get you to take some medicine but you grabbed my arm and shoved the entire bundle in our mouth. You passed back out before you could try to eat the salve I put on your wounds too. I'm amazed y-"

"I told him," Macaque interupted without prompting, and when Wuking spun around (too fast you idiot you're going to hurt yourself) with a wet cloth in hand he just let the words fall from his mouth. Why stop them? He had already told Wukong as much as he had told the kid, and the evidence of what had transpired was litterally all over him. Not much he could hide now. It was the exact opposite of what happened then, no more tar and honey returning. Bittersweet and if he were to give it flavor it would be buttercups. "After he passed out the first time I treated your wounds and when he woke up he helped me and then started asking questions..."

Without saying a word Wukong sat and listened, face tightening as he gingerly removed something from his back (gauze perhaps, he had no bandages on) and ran the cloth over numb cuts. He looked only between the wounds and Macaque's face, letting him retell every detail. "Kid tried to fight it but I just. I didn't know what to do when he started to change again so I... I..." He coughed, throat growing dry again.

This time Wukong stopped him, holding the canteen (not empty after all) to his lips again. They sat in silence for a moment, him drinking and Wukong turning to grab a container and fresh gauze and bandages when he stopped. He nodded, going back to the other monkey's back and Macaque realized the container was healing salve for his wounds. He didn't need it or the medicine, not really, but even with his fast healing and sturdyness it never hurt to have extra help to speed up the healing process. "You what, Macaque?"

"I... think I... hugged him into submission?" Macaque scowled, not sure if he even believed what he was saying and not missing the shocked look on the other's face. "And he bit me." He added quickly.

"He BIT you!?" The Monkey King leaned sideways, looking at Macaque increduously before his gaze veered over to his bandaged arm. "Well. That explains... the everything. Your back and arms looked like you were nearly gored from behind, but with how long his claws get when... yeah, that adds up."

"Is he ok?" The question came out without him even thinking about it. Damn medicine... But this only seemed to make Wukong shake his head with a surprised chuckle.

"Yeah, MK is fine. Exhausted, but fine. I treated his arms after I got your back to stop bleeding." He went back to applying the salve, touch a bit more firm as he rubbed it through his now less matted fur. The pressure would have normally made Macaque tense but now it just made him relax further into the clothes he was resting on (which he now noticed were Wukong's top layers and a blanket the kid insisted they each got at one of the many villages they passed through).

For a while the two remained silent, the Monkey King dressing the wounds on the Six Eared Macaque's back. Maybe it was the exhaustion kicking back in or something else, but Macaque just allowed himself to lay there and not think of anything. His mind tried to wander a bit, somewhat toward the kid and somewhat toward the odd reactions of the king, but nothing really stuck with his head swimming as it was. He only opened his eyes (when had he let them close?) when he felt a gentle touch on his arm. He watched as the bandages were unwrapped slowly and the same treatment given to his back was repeated.

"You're lucky he didn't bite your dominant arm," Wukong said softly, finally breaking the silence with a shakiness in his voice that was almost missed. "Or break your arm completely. You'll heal fine, but if you were anyone else you wouldn't even have an arm to treat right now...." He shook his head and under his breath he heard the king mutter "What were you thinking?"

Macaque looked away, gaze catching the still sleeping form of MK on the other side of the low fire. The kid would be exhausted from his second (almost) transformation in 24 hours for a while yet and that made his chest hurt just like before. He remembered the betrayal on his face, so much like and yet so much worse than when he betrayed him by stealing his powers. He remembered how the kid seemed to need the hug he had offered him so long ago at the start of all this as much as he did. He remembered how scared he looked at the prospect of seeing his parents again when he asked about them. And he remembered how much he kid laughed on this journey, how happy he seemed every time he was praised for even the smallest things, how he offered Macaque so much without asking for anything in return even before he put that stupid headband on the kid. He remembered how, despite everything... MK wasn't giving up on him...

He looked back at Wukong, grabbing his leg with as much strength as he could muster in his hurt arm until the other returned his gaze. "He's been hurt enough."

There was an understanding in Sun Wukong's eyes. For the first time in more years than Six Eared Macaque would admit... they understood each other completely without needing more words. MK had been hurt enough. They would take as much hurt away from him as they could.

The moment was broken when his grip weakened he closed his eyes, unable to stay open for as long as he would like, and when he opened them back up Wukong had already finished bandaging up his arm. He noticed a soft pressure around his tail but said nothing, not right now, and he only moved when there was a gentle tapping on his side. "Can you sit up a bit? I need to put on bandages, then you should get some more rest."

Macaque complied, using his good arm to raise himself up just enough for the other's arms to go under and around him to pass the bandages between hands (no, it was not a "almost hug" no matter what his tired brain told him). It was done sooner than expected and a gentle hand on his shoulder pushed him down into the soft fabric beneath him, his gaze fixed firmly on the soundly sleeping form of the kid as he watched to make sure he was really just sleeping.

If he noticed that there were soft claws running through his hair he said nothing. And if Wukong noticed the squeeze of a tail against his own he said nothing either. Eventually he let his eyes slip closed once more, feelin his chest rumble in a soft purr. The claws against his scalp stopped and there was a warmth after a while, a weight around him. Wukong must have laid a blanet over him, but the claws returned and their tails remained intertwined even as he moved to his other side. It wasn't until he felt a rumble beside him that wasn't his own that he realized the blanket was over both of them. He said nothing, not caring about the implications as he allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

And if he, maybe, dreamed of watching the two people he had reluctantly grown to care most about happy... well, he wouldn't say anything about that either.

[mint-yooxgi]

False Alarm - Yandere!Ten X Reader X Yandere!Taemin

Yandere!AU & Bodyguard!AU - based off of these teaser photos and loosely inspired by False Alarm by The Weeknd

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Not a threesome, but someone gets pinned to a wall 👀)

Pairing: Taemin X Reader X Ten

Words: 28,650

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: On the fifth day of ficmas, Jackie gave to me~ It’s here~ Three months in counting holy shit. This is now the longest one shot I have ever written in my life, so I do really hope you all like it. I’m very proud of it! Here I was, thinking this would be maybe 10k at the most, but nope, lmaoo. Don’t mind any spelling mistakes that have made it past countless rounds of editing please, or any grammar mistakes lol. As always, I do not believe Taemin, nor Ten, would act like this, this is just my interpretation of the archetype. Please do let me know what you all think about this one, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

It shouldn’t surprise you anymore; by now, you should be used to it. Being the president’s daughter and all. Assassination attempts that is. However, you still cannot help the chill in your veins when certain incidents take place.

Surprisingly, there haven’t been too many attempts on your father’s life, but more recently, they have been increasing, becoming more dangerous each time. It started getting more serious when they started coming after your mother. Now, they’re even coming after you.

You have a feeling they have something to do with the new law your father is trying to implement on taxing the rich, as well as establishing a tighter hold on the underground markets. He wants to strengthen gun control, and create a more peaceful nation, but unfortunately, there are always those that oppose such ideals.

It’s early in the afternoon when your father calls you downstairs and into the first floor study. 

The first thing you notice as soon as you reach the main floor, is the amount of security now in your house. You’re glad that you have the added protection, but you hope your privacy won’t be affected too much.

Entering the study after knocking gently, your gaze is immediately drawn to the two unfamiliar men standing on either side of your father, who is currently sitting behind his antique desk. You see Siwon, your father’s personal guard, standing off to the side. Sending a nod his way, you see him nod back before you move your gaze to your father, locking eyes with him in the next second. Understanding crosses your features.

“Given the recent events, I can gather from your expression that you’ve already put together what I’m about to say,” your father begins, letting out a sigh as you stand before him, the two unfamiliar men staring you down.

“I can only assume until you tell me the truth,” you reply, quirking your brow at your father.

“You certainly got your mother’s wit, that’s for sure,” he chuckles, looking at you with amusement clear in his eyes.

“Damn, I could have sworn I got it from you,” you tease, a smirk pulling at your lips.

“Anyways,” your father clears his throat, becoming serious once more, “(Y/n), I’d like you to meet your two new bodyguards, Taemin,” he motions to the blond man standing at attention to his left, “and Ten.” He motions to the black haired man standing off to his right. “They will be accompanying you everywhere starting today, for your protection.”

“Understood,” you nod at your father, shifting your attention to each men standing to either side of him as you bow your head slightly. “It’s nice to meet the both of you, thank you for agreeing to be my personal bodyguards.”

They nod back to you, remaining silent as your father continues to talk, “their first priority is keeping you safe, no matter what the cost. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father,” you respond, bowing in respect towards him.

“Good,” he nods, watching as you stand back up. “That is all I wanted to talk to you about, so you’re free to go now.”

With a final nod towards your father, and a brief nod towards Siwon once more, you’re exiting the room, the two new men following you closely. Nothing is said between the three of you as you lead them through your house and to your bedroom. After all, you still have some studying to do for your classes tomorrow.

Once you reach your room, you leave the door open for them to follow you in, noticing how the door falls shut behind Ten after he enters the room. You walk back to your desk where your laptop rests, with a few notebooks and textbooks scattered around it. Waking it from sleep, you sit back down in your chair, wanting to focus back in on this assignment that’s driving you up the wall.

Ten minutes pass by, and you can feel their gazes locked on your back. You know they haven’t stopped staring at you since you left your father’s study, and it’s irritating you. You find it hard to focus when you can feel someone watching you; feeling as if they’re breathing down your neck.

Letting out a sigh, you turn around in your chair to face the two men standing guard by your door.

“Are you guys just going to stand there and stare at my back the whole time?” You question, clear irritation in your voice as your brow quirks.

“It’s what we’ve been instructed to do,” Taemin replies, expression blank as he continues to stare at you.

“That’s cool and all, but you’re making me slightly uncomfortable in my own room,” you sigh once more. “At least sit down and make yourselves at home. Knowing my dad, you’re probably going to be living with us from now on, or at least on certain days. Besides, if you’re going to be with me from now on, practically twenty-four seven, the least you can do for yourselves is get comfortable.”

They say nothing at first, instead looking at each other briefly from the corner of their eyes, having a silent exchange between one another before coming to a silent agreement. Taking your advice, they both move to the little sitting area you have in your room, Ten sitting on the couch while resting his one leg over the cushions and his one arm off the back of the couch, while Taemin chooses to sit in one of the armchairs. 

You turn back around, and even though you can tell they’re still keeping their eyes on you, their gazes aren’t as intense as before. The air in the room feels slightly less tense now, and you find you can now concentrate better on your assignment.

About an hour passes by, and you’re able to finish your assignment. Letting out a relieved sigh, you close your laptop after hitting submit, gathering all your books together to stack them neatly on your desk. Once you’re done, you swivel around in your chair to face them, eyes shining in curiosity. You wait for one of them to say something, but after about two minutes of silence, you realize you’re going to have to be the one to break it.

“Damn, if I wanted it to be this quiet I would have gone to the library,” you joke, noticing how one of Ten’s eyebrows twitch in slight amusement.

“We just wanted to make sure you had peace and quiet while you worked,” he replies, rolling his neck slowly with his eyes closed.

“That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m done now,” you smile, attempting to ease some of the silent tension that still permeates the air, “and considering we’re going to be spending an awful amount of time with each other, why don’t you guys tell me about yourselves. What’s your favourite colour? Animal? Food? What do each of you specialize in? Have you two worked together before?”

“You certainly ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Taemin replies, slight amusement in his tone as his eyes trail over your body, analyzing you carefully.

“Questions are the curiosities of the mind,” you quip, meeting his eyes and challenging his stare.

You hear Ten let out a laugh, shifting his position to sit forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, “and we’ll answer all of your curiosities to the best of our abilities.”

You shoot him a friendly smile, to which he smirks back at you.

“Well, to start off, we’re brothers,” Ten continues, noticing how your eyes widen slightly.

“Adoptive brothers,” Taemin adds. “So, we’ve pretty much spent every case that we can working together.”

“He’s an expert marksman,” Ten motions to Taemin with his head. “I’ve never seen him miss once.”

“That’s because I don’t,” Taemin remarks smugly. “He’s a master at close quarters combat, no one has ever been able to pin him.”

“Give me a blade and it’s game over,” Ten replies, smirk still evident on his features as he leans back into the couch.

“Noted,” you nod, clearly impressed with what they’ve told you so far. “Remind me to never challenge you in a game of darts,” you joke, locking eyes with Taemin briefly before turning your gaze over to Ten, “and remind me not to challenge you to an arm wrestling match.”

At your words, both of them let out small chuckles.

“So, if you were worried we weren’t qualified to protect you, you don’t need to be troubled about it any longer,” Ten grins, and you roll your eyes playfully.

“As if,” you huff. “The aura the two of you give off when you’re together, not to mention individually, is very intimidating. I never once doubted your capabilities. Besides, I know my dad, and he’d only hire the best people that he believes are capable of protecting us.”

You see them both nod their heads slightly in understanding, noticing how as you’ve been talking, they’ve both seemed to relax a bit more.

For the next hour and a half, the three of you continue getting to know each other. The both of them are impressed with you, their original ideas of you being stuck up and full of yourself since you’re the president’s daughter, now being thrown out the window.

Before they met you, they were both a little hesitant to take this job. The risks aren’t what bothers them, no, it’s the fact that they’d have to spend almost twenty-four hours with you, seven days a week. They were expecting you to be completely different, but from what they’ve gathered, you’re a sassy, kind, intelligent woman who is very aware of her surroundings. Now, they’re both glad they’ve taken this job, for they both cannot wait to spend more time with you, and get to know you even better. Besides, it pays well, too.

Soon enough, you’re being called downstairs for dinner, the two of them following behind you silently. Once you reach the dining room, you take your seat and wait for dinner to be served. You make light conversation over dinner with your parents, fully enjoying this time with them for you all rarely sit down together anymore for a meal like this, given how busy they both are. It warms your heart.

“Don’t forget we have that lecture event at your university in two days’ time,” your mother reminds you.

“I know, mom,” you reply, taking a sip of your drink.

“I can’t wait to embarrass you in front of your entire school,” your dad teases, a light chuckle escaping his lips.

“Dad,” you whine, playing along, “please don’t do anything to ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you, making you scoff in mock offence.

“Don’t worry dear, I’ll just make sure to give a ten minute rant on how awful your snoring is,” your mother interjects, causing both you and Siwon, who is standing off to the side with Taemin and Ten, to snicker. Even Natasha, your mother’s personal bodyguard lets out a few chuckles of her own.

“Betrayed by my own wife,” your father shakes his head, letting out a few more chuckles of his own.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” your mom winks at you, “I got your back.”

“Thanks, mom,” you giggle, finishing the remnants of your drink.

Gathering your now empty dishes, you stand up, excusing yourself from the table and thanking your parents for the meal. Moving off to the kitchen, you place your dishes in the sink, and head back to your room for the evening, noticing your two bodyguards following your every movement once more.

Before you reenter your room for the evening, you turn to the two men standing behind you.

“The two of you should eat something,” you say, noticing how Taemin’s brow twitches slightly at your words. “Don’t even think about arguing, you both need to eat. I’ll be fine in my room for the evening, so get some rest afterwards.”

You can see Ten about to protest before Taemin cuts him off, “as you wish.”

With a slight bow of their heads, they’re moving off back down the hall to grab something for dinner.

Opening the door to your room, a small sigh escapes your lips. Closing the door behind you, you rest against it, thoughts swirling through your mind.

Those two can be really intimidating at times, and you get the sense they were very hesitant about you at first. You know it’s their job to protect you, but you’re slightly worried they might not follow their duties fully if they don’t like you very much.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts. Your father would only choose the best people he thought appropriate to protect you, and you trust his judgement. From what you’ve gathered, these two men take their jobs very seriously. You just hope you can get them to open up a bit more, and not be so intimidating, at least, towards you. After all, you want to be able to befriend them. Who knows how long you’ll need them for.

Meanwhile, the two of them move around each of their new respective rooms, unpacking. They share a joint bathroom, of which the doors rest open, so the two of them can converse with one another.

“She seems nice,” Ten comments, hearing Taemin hum from the other room.

“Definitely not what I was expecting,” comes Taemin’s reply.

“One of our better clients, wouldn’t you say?”

“Better than the last one, at least,” Taemin rolls his eyes, slamming the drawer to his dresser shut. “That one was a real piece of work.”

“You can say that again,” Ten huffs, shutting the door to his closet once he’s finished hanging some shirts.

“Still, this one…” Taemin trails off, seemingly looking for the right word as Ten walks into his room, “she’s almost endearing in a way.”

“Her mannerisms are cute, yes,” Ten nods, leaning against the desk in Taemin’s room as Taemin sits on the edge of his bed, the both of them now finished unpacking.

“Nothing like anything we’ve seen before,” Taemin hums, a grin pulling on his lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in our new client,” Ten teases, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“No, no,” Taemin replies, eyes darting over to look at his brother. “Not at all.”

“Good, cause we both know how that turned out the last time,” Ten shakes his head.

The last time either one of them got involved with a client in that way, it ended with the other one of them almost dying. Since then, they’ve agreed not to get too attached to their clients. Hence their cold and intimidating nature. Well, those aspects also come along with the discipline, but even more so now.

Bidding each other a final good night, Ten retreats back into his own room for the evening. Tomorrow is a new day, and they have to be well rested if they’re going to protect you to the best of their abilities.

The next morning, you wake up early to get ready for your classes. Luckily, you only have two, so you should be home some time in the early afternoon.

Once you’ve finished getting ready for the morning, you make your way downstairs. As soon as you open your bedroom door, you see both Ten and Taemin standing guard on the opposite side of your door, startling you slightly.

“Holy- how long have you guys been standing there?” You ask, shutting the door behind you as you pull your bag over your shoulder.

“Not long,” Ten assures you.

“An hour,” Taemin says at the same time, making you blink.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you continue your trek downstairs, the two of them now following you closely from behind. 

Walking into the kitchen, you see your mother making something for breakfast before she leaves with your father for the day. Sending you a smile, she plates the food before placing it in front of you.

“Thanks, mom,” you say, sending a smile back at her as she places the dishes in the sink before giving you a quick kiss on the forehead and leaving the room, Natasha following behind her silently after sending you a small smile.

Eating silently, you scroll through your phone, checking what you’ve missed since last night. You love your friends, but having some in different timezones can make the group chat read like the morning paper at times. 

Noticing the time, your eyes widen slightly as you realize that if you don’t leave soon, you might be late for your first class. Shoving the last remnants of food into your mouth, you quickly stand up, placing your dishes in the sink while grabbing your bag which you had placed beside you on the other chair.

Heading to the garage, you grab your keys, ready to unlock your car and get into the driver’s seat. However, before you can open the car door, a hand quickly snatches your keys out of your hand.

“Hey!” You complain, frowning as you see Taemin now holding your keys.

“Get in,” he motions to the back, where on the other side, Ten already waits to get in with you. “We’ll be driving you to and from school from now on, and attending all of your classes.”

“Well damn, thanks for the warning,” you huff, taking a step back from the driver’s side in order to get into the back of the vehicle.

He says nothing in response, only choosing to open the driver’s side door and get in, a slight raise to his lips.

The whole ride over to your university is silent, Taemin pulling into the first free parking space when you arrive. The whole time, you’ve been texting your two friends in your first class to meet you just outside the lecture hall, to which they agree.

Getting out of the car, Taemin cuts the engine. You can feel the other student’s eyes on you as you walk towards Building C, flanked by your two new bodyguards. You can hear the whispers of the others as you walk past, but you don’t let it bother you; you’re used to it by now, being the president’s daughter and all.

Entering the building, you see your two friends anxiously waiting for you near the entrance of the lecture hall.

“There you are! Hurry up, the lecture is about to start!” Jongin complains, opening the door to the lecture hall and tugging Ayla along with him, you following close behind.

Checking the time, you roll your eyes slightly, “relax, we still have ten minutes.”

“Yeah, Jongin, relax,” Ayla huffs, amusedly. “We’ve got time. I’d just be worried about not finding good seats.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” you tease, “just because we won’t be able to sit in the front doesn’t mean we won’t get good seats.”

Walking into the main section of the lecture hall, you spot some seats in the second row of the back section, leading the way as the four of them follow you. You’ve noticed that since you’ve entered the lecture hall, most people’s conversations have halted, especially since two new males have walked in with you.

“Who are those two new guys with her?” You overhear someone whisper.

“Damn, I guess being the president’s daughter means you can get whatever guys you want nowadays,” another whispers as you all make it to your seats. Taemin and Ten share a look, sitting to your right.

“Isn’t she with Damien?” Someone else adds.

“What a fucking slut,” you overhear from a few rows over, the harshness in their voice making you suck in a breath.

“That’s it,” Ayla growls, slamming her palms on the table in front of her and preparing to stand up.

“Relax, it’s fine,” you say, gripping her arm to make sure she stays seated and doesn’t do anything drastic.

“No. It’s not,” she counters, Jongin nodding his agreement from beside her. “One of these days those fuckers are going to catch these hands.”

“Thanks, boo,” you send her a small smile.

“Besides, anyone with a brain knows you’re literally the best,” Jongin adds, to which you smile at him.

“Thanks guys,” you say, turning your attention to the front of the room after pulling out your supplies, seeing as how the professor is about to start the lecture.

For the first half of the lecture, you can feel both Ten’s and Taemin’s eyes on you, before shifting their gazes around the room, carefully observing everyone and everything. You fail to notice the slight furrow in their brows the whole time, confused, and slightly concerned, about you.

At the end of your first class, you’re bidding farewell to Jongin and Ayla, who walk away hand in hand after waving goodbye to you. A slight smile is on your face, sorrowful in a way, as you watch them walk away. You could not be more happy for them being together, but it just reminds you of your nonexistent love life. Being the president’s daughter can have its downsides.

Sighing, you begin moving off to your second, and final, class for the day, located in Building A. You walk in silence, the two men following behind you and serving to intimidate anyone who walks in your path.

Checking your phone just before entering the building, a small smile lights up your face. Damien’s already in class waiting for you, and he’s saved you a seat.

Entering the class, you see an excited Damien waving at you enthusiastically. Waving back, you make your way over to the seat he’s saved for you, noticing that Ten and Taemin will have to sit directly behind you if they want to stay close to you. For that, you’re kind of grateful. Having them next to you in your first class was kind of distracting, especially since they were staring at you for half of it. Luckily, this class is much smaller than your first, so they won’t be able to draw too much attention to themselves. However, it still doesn’t stop the whispers from forming at the mouths of the other students, which you choose to ignore for the time being.

“Hey,” Damien greets as you take the seat next to him. “Ayla’s already told me about what happened early. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to it by now,” you shrug, pulling out your supplies for the class.

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he mutters, frown evident on his face before his expression is lightening up in the next moment. “Anyways, what’s with the posse?” He motions to the two men sitting behind you with his head. “They your new bodyguards or something?”

“Actually, yes,” you nod, noticing how Damien’s jaw drops.

“Damn, that’s hot,” he wiggles his brows at you. “Are either of them single?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask them,” you quirk a brow, ready to turn around before he stops you.

“Don’t embarrass me in front of them, I’m pretty sure they can hear me,” he whines.

Sneaking a glance over your shoulder, you see both of their amused faces, causing you to laugh, “for sure they can.”

“Oh god,” he groans, face planting onto the desk. “I’m going to make myself feel better and just believe they can’t date on the job.”

“I don’t even know if they’re single,” you reply, a slight teasing tone in your voice.

“Whatever, I still have you, don’t I?” He grins, turning his head to look at you from his position on the desk.

“Of course,” you grin back. “Still down to get married if we’re both still single at thirty-five?”

“Damn right I am,” he sits back up, smiling along with you. “Who else could put up with you?”

“Excuse me! I’m a delight to be around,” you scoff.

“Oh, yeah? Says who?” He smirks.

“My elementary and high school teachers,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him as the two of you laugh. You can faintly hear a few chuckles coming from behind you, but you brush them off.

“I don’t think being ‘a pleasure to have in class’ counts,” Damien teases, nudging your arm slightly.

“You’re just jealous that all of our teachers liked me better,” you jokingly huff, nudging his arm back.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles a few times, “whatever you say.”

“Anyways, did you manage to finish the assignment for today?” You ask him, taking out your laptop.

“Fuck, just barely,” he sighs dramatically, “I was up all night finishing it before class today. What about you?”

“Finished it yesterday,” you hum, setting up a fresh document for taking notes.

“Of course, I should have known,” he grins. “I don’t even need to ask anymore, you’re usually done assignments a day before they’re due anyways.”

“Procrastination is a hard habit to shake,” you mutter.

“You call that procrastinating!” Damien half-yells, eyes wide as you hear a huff of amusement come from behind you.

“Shut up, class is about to start,” you can’t fight the grin of amusement that pulls at your lips as you both turn to face front, looking at the professor as they begin the lecture for the day.

Again, the whole time you’re taking notes, you can feel Ten’s and Taemin’s gazes on your back. So much so, that halfway through class you type out a ‘stop staring at my back’ into your notes, bold it, and make it a bigger font for them to see as you subtly lean to the side so they can read it. They seem to take the hint and for the rest of the class, you barely feel their eyes on you, but you can tell Damien is feeling a bit uncomfortable. They must have shifted their gazes from you to him.

Eventually, class ends, and you agree to hang out with Damien for the next hour before his next class begins. Even though you’re done for the day, you enjoy spending time with your best friend.

Walking to the building where his next class is, you all grab food, sitting at a table just across from the lecture hall. You and Damien continue to converse as you eat, while the two other men eat in silence, continuing to observe the area, and more particularly, you.

“Wait, is that Minhyuk?” Damien says, squinting his eyes slightly at a figure across the way.

Your eyes follow his gaze as both Ten and Taemin turn around to look at the now approaching male. Minhyuk’s eyes lock with yours, a smile pulling at his lips, only causing you to groan in response.

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” You groan, placing your head in your hands, only to look up in the next moment with a brilliant fake smile plastered on your face as Minhyuk reaches your table.

Ten and Taemin share a look.

“Hey, (Y/n), how are you today?” He leans his one hand on the table, completely ignoring the three other males that are with you.

“Well, my day was going great until you showed up,” you chirp, causing Taemin and Ten to look at you in slight confusion.

“Oh, baby, you hurt me so,” he mocks offence, placing a hand over his heart as if he’s actually been hurt by your words. “Anyways, I saw you sitting here and I couldn’t help myself but to come over and see if-“

“No,” you immediately cut him off, expression morphing into one of disinterest, no longer being bothered to act cheerful anymore.

“But you haven’t even heard what I was going to ask-“

“I said no,” you lock eyes with him. “It was a no last time. It’s a no this time, and it will always be a no.”

Ten and Taemin observe the situation, waiting to intervene at a moments notice, though they’re a bit confused, and curious, as to what this whole situation is about. Damien sips on his drink in amusement, watching the entire situation play out before his eyes as he leans back in his chair.

“Come on, babe, we both know I’ll be worth your while,” Minhyuk smirks, only serving to irritate you further. His eyes flick to the two unfamiliar males sitting with you as he goes on to say, “we both know I’m the only one who can really make you scream.”

“In frustration, yeah,” you reply, quirking a brow. “And don’t flatter yourself, I’ve had better orgasms from my own hand than what your two-inch dick can offer me.”

At your words, Damien nearly chokes on his drink from laughing so hard. You notice the two men sharing another glance between each other across from you.

Minhyuk simply sputters before you, face turning red. You can tell he’s fuming.

“Yeah, well, you’re just a bitch who sleeps with the first guy that gives you any attention,” Minhyuk seethes, only getting more angry the more unbothered by his words you look. “Fucking slut, who wants to be with you anyways. You good for nothing, stupid, waste of space-“

Before any one of them can react, you’ve stood up, causing your chair to screech across the floor and draw even more attention to yourself as you land a solid blow to his left cheek, sending him stumbling back a few paces. Damien watches on with wide eyes as you notice your two bodyguards stand up out of the corner of your eyes.

“You fucking bitch!” Minhyuk sneers, winding up to hit you back.

However, before his fist can make contact, you manage to catch it mid-air, surprising the two males once more, and only serving to make Damien’s eyes widen even more as he sips his drink. Your nails dig into Minhyuk’s skin, and you can see him struggling to pull his fist out of your grip as a crowd begins to form around the five of you.

“If I’m what you say I am, why do you always keep trying to get into my pants? We both know I’m not interested in you, so why waste your time on me? Leave me the fuck alone,” you spit, pushing him away from you as you let go of his fist.

He says nothing, only choosing to glare at you as he rubs at his closed fist, indents from your nails evident in his skin. You notice a few people in the crowd filming the situation, and with a sigh, you grab your things quickly, pushing past people to exit the building. Damien rushes after you once he grabs his things, Ten and Taemin sharing a final look before following as well.

“(Y/n), fuck, that was amazing!” Damien cheers once he catches up to you just outside the building. 

“Are you okay?” It’s Ten’s amused voice that manages to grab your attention.

“Never better,” you reply, exhaling a significant amount of air, noticing how he stands with his arms crossed as Taemin leans on the side of the building.

“He never knows when to quit, does he?” Damien sighs, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Does he always bother you?” Taemin asks, intrigued. Neither of them thought you were capable of something like that, and they’re both greatly amused by this newfound side to you.

“You could say that,” Damien replies for you, and you roll your eyes.

“You drunkenly hook up with a guy one time in first year, and he never lets it go,” you huff. “All he wants is another round to say that he’s slept with the presidents’ daughter more than once. I can’t stand him.”

“He’s an asshole,” Damien confirms with a nod while patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“Sorry to make a scene before your class,” you apologize to him, only for him to smile at you.

“Are you kidding? That was literally the highlight of my day,” he grins, causing you to send him a weak smile back. “Now, go home and get some rest. Maybe curl up with a blanket and watch a movie, that always seems to cheer you up.”

“Yeah, if I don’t have to listen to my dad practice his speech for tomorrow,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Plus, I’ve got readings.”

“Fuck the readings,” Damien immediately replies, causing you to let out a breath in amusement.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You hug him, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you feel him hug you back. “Have fun in class.”

“Two hours of physics with the most boring professor ever? Woo,” he says, unenthusiastically, causing you to let out a small laugh.

“Good luck, then,” you wave him off, sending him a small wink.

“Thanks, I’ll need it,” he waves back with a laugh, heading back inside before his class starts.

A sigh escapes your lips as you watch Damien disappear from your sight, grip tightening on your bag. You can feel the stares of the two men on you once more as you begin walking back to the car, them falling into step beside you soon after, with one on either side of you. They say nothing at first, a sort of tense silence falling over the three of you as you walk across campus. Ten is the first to break it.

“Didn’t know you had that in you,” he hums, amusement still clear in his voice.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” you sigh, seeing your car come into view.

“You have some pretty sharp reflexes,” Taemin comments, looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a smirk present on his lips.

“Thanks,” you reply shortly, putting your hand on the handle of the back door once you reach your car.

Once unlocked, you’re pulling the door open and sliding into the back. You fail to notice the amused twitches of their lips as they follow suit.

Again, a small silence settles over the three of you while in the car as Taemin pulls onto the main road after leaving the campus. You look out the window, watching as the scenery moves by in a blur, not really focusing on anything but using it as a means to distract yourself. You’re tired from the day you’ve had, and you just want to get home and relax.

“So, you and Damien,” Ten’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts.

Turning your head, you lock eyes with him, “what about him?”

“You two seem, close,” Taemin cuts in, making you turn your gaze to catch his own in the rearview mirror.

“He’s been my best friend since preschool,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “Nothing more to it.”

You hear Ten hum in acknowledgement at your statement, and sensing the end to the short conversation, you go back to absentmindedly looking out the window.

Arriving home, you hop out of the car, quickly making your way back inside your house with the two men following in pursuit. Before you can make it two steps, your father is calling you into his study. You sigh, already knowing what this is going to be about.

“(Y/n), although I’m happy you stood up for yourself, violence is never the answer,” your father reprimands you once you’re in his office.

“Yes, father,” you sigh, head down out of respect.

“In all fairness, sir, if she hadn’t acted beforehand, I was going to clock him myself,” Ten chimes in. “He was being a complete, and pardon my French, asshole.”

“Regardless of that fact or not, she should know better than to act out like that,” he frowns. “We’re lucky the news outlets won’t get wind of this. How would people react if they saw you, the presidents’ daughter, punching someone in the face? How do you think the public would perceive me as your father for ‘influencing’ you to act that way? What does that say about me as a parent? We have to be careful with our images. You know this. Otherwise, people will create these false presumptions about us. Now go, I have work to do.”

With a nod of your head, you turn around and exit the study, making your way to your room. You don’t have to look to know that your two bodyguards are already following you.

“Whether they see it or not, people are already going to have their false presumptions about us,” you mutter under your breath, releasing another sigh as you open the door to your room.

The two of them say nothing as they follow you into your room, closing the door behind them. They watch as you toss your bag onto your desk before moving over and flopping face first onto your bed, releasing a groan in the process.

Both of them are greatly amused by your actions today, not to mention impressed. Never would they have thought you would have had it in you to do what you did. Neither will admit it to the other, but they enjoyed this side of you, both intrigued by you and who you’re turning out to be. They can’t help but want to see more.

Moving over to sit on your couch, they allow themselves to relax slightly. Nothing unusual came up at your university, but they remain on high alert, as tomorrow would be a prime opportunity for something to happen given the events that will be taking place. They just know that whatever does happen, they’ll make sure to keep you safe. Not only is it their job, but after the events of today, you’ve sparked something within them, something that they haven’t felt in a long time. Something, that if given the chance, they want to feel again.

Eventually, the next day rolls around, and you manage to pull yourself out of your sour mood from the previous day. You’re currently sitting front row before the small stage they’ve set up outside for your father to give his speech on. People from all over campus, and the city for that matter, file in and take their seats, wanting to catch a glimpse of the president at this presidential event.

“Hey stranger,” Damien greets, nudging you gently as he takes the open seat beside you to your left. “How’re you feeling today?

“Could be better, could be worse,” you shrug, turning your head to look at him. “How about you?”

“Heard Minhyuk complaining about his face about an hour ago,” he replies with a hum. “You really got him good, dude’s sporting a nice shiner.”

“Serves him right,” a voice cuts in, shadows falling over both you and Damien.

Looking up reveals your two bodyguards now standing in front of you. You can tell Ten was the one to say that, for he wears a smug grin on his face as Taemin scans over the crowd.

“We’ll be positioned at the front of the stage during the speech, so if you need one of us, just wave us over,” Taemin informs you, to which you nod at.

You notice the earpieces they’re wearing, taking in their entire black ensembles. You lick your lips before taking a deep breath, turning back to face Damien in the next moment as the two men walk over to stand at the bottom of the front of the stage.

“Those two men are such fine, cool glasses of water, and I’m parched,” Damien says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you, only causing you to burst out laughing.

“Well, they’re all yours, boo,” you grin back, shooting him a wink. “Drink up.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he hums, turning his gaze to the front where Ten and Taemin are standing at attention.

The two of you continue on your conversation for a short amount of time, seeing as the event will be starting soon. You’ve noticed how the crowd has really filled out, a small smile resting on your lips as you feel pride for your father swell in your chest. He can be a bit difficult at times, but you love him, and you hope beyond anything that nothing goes wrong today.

Soon enough, the crowd has settled down and the dean of your university introduces your father who receives a tremendous amount of applause in response. You take this time to look around at all the media sources broadcasting this event today. News outlets, magazines, even those filming on their phones for their own social media accounts.

Figuring you should get comfortable in your seat for your father’s speech, you lean back in your chair, crossing your left leg over the other, and your arms over your chest. You notice Damien lean back in his seat also, choosing to rest his hands in his lap as he gets comfortable. 

A gentle breeze drifts through the campus, the sky dotted with clouds as the sun peeks out from behind one. You can see your mother smiling in her seat behind your father as he begins his speech, the dean nodding along enthusiastically. All of your private bodyguards line the front of the stage on either side. Taemin and Ten standing closest to you, while Siwon and Natasha stand on the opposite side.

Just as your father takes a slight pause in his speech, the first shot is fired.

A scream sounds from the crowd somewhere behind you as the bullet makes contact with the ground just before your feet. You recoil in shock, nearly falling backwards in your chair. The next moment, chaos ensues as another bullet whizzes right past your head and hits the person sitting behind you. 

People begin panicking, getting up and running in multiple directions while screaming in fear for their lives. You see both Taemin and Ten rushing towards you, but they’re two seconds too late.

The sound of a bullet making contact with flesh makes you flinch and squeeze your eyes shut. Your whole body tenses as you wait for pain to overtake you in the next moment. Except, it doesn’t come.

Opening your eyes, you look to your left where you see Damien on the ground, clutching his right shoulder as blood begins to flow from his fresh bullet wound. You barely register Ten grabbing your arm to lead you away from the scene.

Quickly regaining your senses, you rip your arm out of his grasp, a firm ‘no’ passing your lips as you drop to your knees beside Damien. Taking off the sweater you’re wearing, you immediately press it to his wound, keeping the pressure until medical help can arrive.

“Come on, we need to get you out of here,” Taemin says, going to grab for you himself this time.

“I’m not leaving him,” you state, staring into Damien’s eyes as tears gather at the corners of his as the pain washes over him.

“Our number one priority is keeping you safe,” Ten responds, looking around the crowd as both he and Taemin draw their guns. “No matter the cost.”

“I’ll be fine,” Damien assures you through gritted teeth. “It’s only a flesh wound.”

“Flesh wound my ass,” you mutter.

The commotion around you prevents you from seeing if your parents got away safely, but you’re hoping that they did. No more shots have been fired since Ten and Taemin have reached you, so you’re hoping the shooter has moved on and is in the process of being chased.

Another bullet whizzing past your arm is all the answer you need, your heart beating erratically in your chest as you’re overcome with fear. No matter how badly your mind is screaming for your body to run, you won’t leave your best friend here to die like this.

“I can’t leave him!” You shout over the commotion.

“Shit,” you hear Taemin cuss as he turns towards the direction the bullets have been coming from in hopes of getting a glimpse of the shooter. However, at this distance, his handgun is not going to have much of an effect on a long range shooter.

“Can you stand?” Ten asks you, to which you simply nod your head. “Good, get up.”

“I told you, I’m not leaving him to die!” At your words Damien lets out a pain filled groan.

“Go, get out of here,” he manages to get out. “Your life is more important than mine, anyways.”

“What the fuck are you saying? Of course it’s not!” You yell, tears blurring your vision as you feel the amount of blood on your hands despite your best efforts of putting pressure on the wound. “You can’t say things like that, I don’t know who I’d be without you. Come on, you’re going to get through this, stay with me.”

Before you can register what’s happening, you feel yourself being pulled up and off of the ground. You begin to protest as Taemin drags you away from Damien, struggling in his grip as he leads you away from the scene of the crime for your protection, gun raised the whole time. 

Pulling you behind a building and out of view from the sniper’s range, Taemin pushes you against the wall, scanning the area to make sure it’s safe before turning to lock eyes with you.

“Relax, Ten’s got him,” he says, motioning with his head to his brother who has now caught up to you and is carrying Damien over his shoulder.

You manage to breathe a sigh of slight relief, your blood still rushing through your veins due to the adrenaline. You’re not safe yet, but at least you know Damien won’t just be left out there to bleed to death.

“You know, when I imagined getting carried away by prince charming, this is not what I had in mind,” Damien pipes up, causing you to let out a laugh in disbelief as Ten places him back on his own feet.

Pushing past Taemin, you manage to catch Damien as he stumbles slightly, wincing as his wound throbs in pain.

“You idiot,” you laugh, a single tear escaping your eye as you throw his arm over your shoulder. “This is seriously not the time for joking around.”

“You’re right-“

“(Y/n)!”

“Get behind us!”

“No!” A shriek escapes your lips as you hear a gunshot fire from in front of you, a masked figure now standing mere metres away from you. 

It all happens within the blink of an eye, yet everything still seems to happen in slow motion.

You watch as the bullet inches closer to your chest, Ten and Taemin rushing in front of you to try and protect you, but they’re going to be too late. Your eyes widen as you register Damien pushing you out of the way just in time to take the bullet for you. Stumbling slightly, you can only watch on in horror as his now lifeless body falls to the ground in front of you. You’re ears are ringing, and you barely register Taemin firing his own gun, killing the assailant instantly.

Taemin and Ten begin to scan the area, guards high incase another attacker is to make themselves known. They stand guard on either side of you as the swat teams arrive, only now noticing how you’ve dropped to your knees with silent tears streaming down your face as you stare at Damien’s still frame, bleeding out on the concrete in front of you.

“D-Damien,” your voice comes out as a broken whisper, barely having the strength to crawl over to him, but you manage, choking on a sob along the way. 

You manage to turn him over, wiping the hair out of his face as you come to rest his head in your lap, just like how you would sit when you were kids. A tear falls on his cheek, and you can’t help but think he looks almost peaceful like this; as if he’s only sleeping.

“You idiot,” you choke out, cupping his face gently in your hands and ignoring all those around you for the moment. “That bullet wasn’t meant for you.” Another tear lands on his cheek. “You weren’t meant to die for me. How am I supposed to go on without my best friend?”

Tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you sob for the loss of your closest friend. How cruel of fate to take him away from you so soon, that he should die while you continue to live on. Why would he do that for you?

All these thoughts, and more, race through your mind, and you can come up with the answer yourself, which only makes you sob harder. The love you have for your best friend is also shared by him. He did this because he wanted to, because he loves you. If the roles would have been reversed, you would have done the exact same thing for him.

A comforting hand is placed gently onto your back, startling you out of your thoughts. Letting your eyes refocus, you notice you’ve been subconsciously brushing Damien’s hair out of his face this whole time, only serving to streak it red with his blood that still rests on your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, completely ignoring whoever it is that’s come to comfort you at this time in favour of gently placing Damien’s head on the ground. You back up slightly in order to give yourself enough room to lean down to place one final kiss to his forehead while whispering a small thank you. “I love you. You will always be my best friend.”

Letting out a shaky sigh, you sit back up. Looking to your left, you see Taemin standing there with a hand placed comfortingly on your shoulder. He looks at you with slightly sorrowful eyes as you stand up, stumbling slightly on your feet. Luckily, Taemin is there to support you.

“Take me home,” your voice is barely above a whisper as you find yourself leaning into his side. He doesn’t need to see your eyes to know the sadness that reflects in them, for he can hear it clearly in your voice.

By now, the reporters have made a reappearance as special ops forces take care of the scene. They throw questions your way while shoving microphones in your face as you walk past. Taemin does his best to push them out of your way, but in the end, some of the swat team has to step in to control them in order to get them to leave you alone. 

Ten is currently busy filling in the superiors on what events have just taken place. He watches as Taemin leads you away, an arm wrapped securely around your figure. He bites his lip. That should be him. He knows what it’s like to lose someone close to you, someone you love. He should be the one comforting you in this time, not Taemin.

The whole time shots were being fired, Ten’s heart was racing in his chest. Normally, he loves the thrill of adrenaline that rushes through his veins during times like these, but today, he couldn’t help but worry. He worried for your safety, and yes, even though you are his client and he should regularly worry about your safety, this time was different. No matter what happens, he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. Or worse.

It stuck with him, how attached you seemed to be to Damien, and how you refused to leave his side, even in the face of danger. He finds your loyalty admirable, and genuinely enjoys your caring nature. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself yet, but it pained him to see the horrified, heartbroken look on your face when Damien was killed. If he can help it, he never wants to see you hurt or in pain again, and he’ll start by doing his job right. His number one priority now, is protecting you at all costs, even if it means giving up his own life.

Meanwhile, you rest your head on the cool window of your car as Taemin drives you home. Nothing is said between the two of you, and you’re grateful for the silence. Closing your eyes, you attempt to get some rest while on your way home, but every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Damien’s dead body bleeding out on the ground.

You don’t even notice you’ve started crying again until you feel a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears. Your eyes flutter open to see you’re back home already, the car now parked in the garage.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says softly, eyes full of sorrow as he retracts his hand from your cheek slowly.

You don’t say anything in response, not trusting your voice to not crack if you were to speak. Instead, you find yourself nodding once at him, swallowing briefly. 

Never have you seen Taemin show this much emotion in front of you, but you appreciate it none-the-less. You’re also grateful he doesn’t push you to talk, opting to get out of the car and help you walk into the main part of the house in the next moment.

He can feel his heart clench slightly in his chest, seeing you so upset and hurt by the events of today. He won’t easily admit it, but the whole time shots were being fired, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to protect you. He’s intrigued by you, and ever since yesterday, he’s wanted to get to know you better. Sure he acts a bit cold and distant, but he knows he’s starting to warm up to you.

You have this effect on him which sets his heart racing, and knowing how much you care for your best friend just made his interest in you spike. He admires the loyalty and dedication you’ve shown so far, selfishly wanting that for himself in the future. You’ve definitely caught his eye, and once he sets his sights on something, he never lets go of his target.

He only wishes he could have been able to comfort you better in the car before the two of you went inside.

As soon as your mother sees you enter the house, she rushes over to you, “(Y/n), oh my god. Thank goodness you’re alright! We were so worried about you, are you hurt?”

“No, mom, I’m fine,” you reply, brushing her off in favour of wanting to retreat to your room for the rest of the evening. You just want to be alone right now, or at least away from your parents and their questioning gazes.

“You don’t look fine,” your dad comments, worry evident on his features as he frowns. “You have blood on your hands.”

“There’s blood on your hands?” You mother panics, immediately grabbing your hands in hers and looking them over worriedly as she takes in the sight of the now dried blood covering your hands.

“It’s fine, it’s-“ you hesitate, closing your eyes briefly as you swallow your emotions for the time being, “it’s not mine.”

“Then who’s-“ both your mother and father’s brows furrow as they fully look at your red eyes and tear stained face.

“It’s-“ you choke on a breath, your emotions overcoming your weak walls that you’ve put up for the time being as you feel the weight of the events from today come crashing down on you. “Damien’s”

“Is he alright?” Your mother asks, squeezing your hands gently in comfort as she looks at your face in worry.

You shake your head, refusing to meet her eyes as you hear her gasp.

“He sacrificed himself for me,” you let out a shaky breath, only now being able to look up into your mother’s eyes, and you can see the sorrow reflected in her own as she wraps you in her arms.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she says, gently stroking your hair as you sob into her shoulder. You can feel your father come over to place a comforting hand onto your back, gently rubbing soothing circles the whole time. 

You all stay like this for a few minutes, your parents comforting you as you sob in the main hallway of your house. After a little while longer, you manage to get your emotions back under control, enough to pull away from your mom as she wipes your tears away.

“Why don’t you go and get some rest, honey, we’re well protected here at home,” she suggests, to which you nod in response.

You don’t say anything as you walk past them and to the stairs, slowly trudging up them and to your room. Closing the door gently behind you, you feel as if you’re untuned to your surroundings, moving around your room slowly as if in a daze.

Grabbing a fresh pair of pyjamas to change into consisting of an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, you make your way to your bathroom in order to wash off the events of the day. You find that the hot water helps clear your mind slightly, serving to wash away the dirt and grim that’s stuck onto you. It takes you several minutes just to wash the blood off of your hands, it now being caked into your nails. The sight alone makes your eyes sting with unshed tears.

You end up taking longer than you thought you would to get ready for bed, seeing as how your movements are sluggish at the moment. Once you deem your hair dry enough, you throw it in a bun on the top of your head, exiting the bathroom and coming back out into your main room.

Just as you groggily start to make your way over to your bed, you hear a faint knock coming from your bedroom door. Releasing a small sigh, you head over to see who it could be.

Opening the door reveals Taemin standing there. You notice his eyes roam over your figure briefly, taking in your appearance, before looking back up to meet your gaze.

“Your parents wanted me to check up on you after debriefing them,” he says, not wanting you to know that he was also concerned about how you may be fairing after the events of today.

“I’m just going to try and get some sleep,” you reply, bringing a hand up to rub at your eyes.

“Well, if you need anything, let me know,” with a final nod, he goes to turn away.

“Wait,” your voice halts him in his tracks.

“Yes?” He turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder.

“I know that this isn’t really a part of your job description, but I don’t really want to be alone right now,” you say, looking down at your feet somewhat nervously. “Do you mind staying with me for a while? At least until I fall asleep? I’d feel safer knowing you were with me, watching over me.”

Given the circumstances, he knows his heart shouldn’t be skipping a beat at your words, but it does anyways. It takes him a moment to think of a response, but you take his silence as a denial to your request.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I can always ask Ten when he gets back-“

“No, no,” he cuts you off before you can finish. There’s no way he’s letting his brother take this opportunity away from him. “It’s fine. Just let me shower first, then I’ll be right with you.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” You say, your eyes flitting upwards only to look down again in the next second. “Do whatever you have to do first. I’ll be here.”

With a final nod from him, he’s moving quickly down the hall and to his room. He doesn’t want to keep you waiting for long, but he does want to wash off the events of the day before keeping you company. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for him to freshen up a little bit for you.

Not even fifteen minutes later, you hear another soft knock coming from your bedroom door. Getting up off of your bed, you go over to let Taemin into your room, closing your door gently behind him.

“Thank you, by the way,” your voice is small as you move past him to sit on the side of your bed. “You didn’t have to agree to this.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, moving to sit on your couch that faces your bed, serving to give you space, but also letting you know that he’s still there for you incase you should need him.

Crawling underneath your covers, you attempt to get comfortable. You’re able to relax slightly better knowing Taemin is in your room to protect and watch over you for the time being. However, the more you allow yourself to relax, the more your body begins to shake. Your mind now has time to think about all the events that have taken place today, and thanks to your adrenaline wearing off, all of your emotions are coming crashing back to you. Fear, grief, anger, shock, and sadness all flood your senses as you attempt to lull yourself to sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, you see glimpses of the horrific scenes that played out in front of you during the day, but none of them are as prominent as watching your best friend get shot over and over again; you can still hear the gunshots ringing in your ears.

A small whimper escapes your lips as tears threaten to fall from your eyes once more.

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you curse yourself. Yes, it’s good to have emotions, but your father has always told you not to let them get the best of you. You can’t help but just feel so weak after the events of today. Never before have you been so scared for your life, and never before have you had to face this kind of terror head on. Never has it affected you this horribly before.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a gentle hand place itself onto your back, successfully serving to pull you out of your thoughts. 

Turning to look over your shoulder, you stare at Taemin with slightly wide, tear-filled eyes, and he can feel his heart clench in sorrow for you.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle, concern clear on his features.

You sit up in bed, turning to face him fully as you choke back a sob, “no.”

Moving quickly, he sits on the edge of your bed, wrapping you in his arms. He gently rubs his one hand along your back as you come to rest your head in the side of his neck, letting all of your emotions out that you’ve so desperately kept in since retreating to your room for the evening.

He lets you cry into him for as long as you need, comforting you in any way he can. He wants you to know that he’s here for you, in more ways than just being your bodyguard. It pains him to see you this upset, but he’s glad that he’s the one able to be with you in your time of need.

Eventually, your sobbing begins to die down, with you only shaking slightly from your emotions now as you begin to calm yourself down. He refuses to let you go just yet, wanting to make sure you’re okay before having you pull away. He wants you to be the first to pull away, so as to not deny you of his comfort when you need it most. Besides, he’s enjoying the fact that he get’s to hold you in his arms, though he wishes it was under better circumstances.

“Thank you,” you whisper in his ear, nearly causing a shiver to run down his spine.

All too soon, you’re pulling away from him to look into his eyes while wiping away your remaining tears. You send him a weak smile, one that still manages to pull at his heartstrings as he sends you a small one back. This surprises you slightly as you don’t believe you’ve seen him smile at all until now.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies lowly, slowly going to stand up before your hand on his wrist stops him.

“Do you-“ you pause, biting your lip slightly as you avoid his gaze, “can you-“

He can see your eyes flicker briefly to him before flicking to beside you on the bed, the hesitant yet hopeful look shining in your eyes only serving to make his heart race faintly in his chest.

He nods his head slightly, “of course.”

The breath you let out in relief is followed by a small smile which overtakes your features. You both know that this isn’t in his job description, but you’d feel better having him stay with you for the night.

Making room for him, he crawls under your covers with you. You can tell he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries, but you feel better when his arms are around you. Especially in this moment, you need the comfort only he can provide for you.

Letting out another small sigh, you turn to face him, noticing he’s already staring at you. The two of you continue to stare at each other for about a minute, a small silence settling around the both of you. You shuffle closer, averting your gaze in the next moment.

“Taemin?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he still manages to hear you.

“Yes?” He hums.

“Hold me,” it’s not a question, yet not a demand either, but it feels as if the world has stopped for a brief moment as he takes in your request.

He doesn’t say anything in response, and you’re worried you might have gone too far, but once you feel his arms loop around your figure and pull you close to him, you’re breathing another sigh of relief.

He’s sure you can hear the way his heart skips a beat as you bury yourself into his chest, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you seek comfort in his embrace. He knows he shouldn’t read too much into this, you’re only asking him to do this to comfort you in your time of need, but it’s the fact that you’re asking him to do this for you that sets his heart racing.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, and even though he wishes the events leading up to this moment were different, he’s just glad he gets to experience holding you in his arms for the night. Whatever you need, he’ll give to you.

As he watches you sleep in his arms, he makes a promise to himself that night. No matter what happens, he’ll always be there for you. To protect you, and if you’ll let him, to love, and cherish you for as long as you both shall live.

Waking up the next morning, you hear faint breathing coming from beside you. Furrowing your brow slightly in confusion, you go to sit up, only to find a pair of arms resting around your waist. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Taemin’s sleeping face; everything from the previous night coming back to you now.

Managing to wiggle out of his grasp, you sit on the edge of your bed, warmth rushing up your neck as you realize he slept with you the entire night. The more you think about it though, the calmer you feel, for he did comfort you the entire time he’s been with you. You don’t think you would have been able to sleep at all if he didn’t stay.

“Good morning,” you hear him say from behind you, voice still groggy from sleep. You can feel the bed shift as he sits up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you,” you reply briefly from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you stay with me last night.”

“Don’t be,” he replies, shifting slightly so he can rest a hand on your back. “I’m glad I could help. Besides, you needed it.”

You say nothing in return, choosing to nod slightly instead. 

Standing up from your bed, you move over to your bathroom to get ready for the day. Once by the sink, you splash some cool water onto your face to wake yourself up. Looking into your reflection in the mirror reveals how red and swollen your eyes are from crying last night. You let out a sigh.

Today isn’t going to be any easier. You know you’re going to have to have a meeting with your parents to fully discuss what happened yesterday, as well as possibly make arrangements for Damien’s funeral with his family. To say you’re not looking forward to any of that would be an understatement.

Once you’re finished in the bathroom, moving back into the main section of your bedroom reveals that Taemin has already left. You figure he’s probably gone to get ready for the day himself, seeing as he’s back on formal duty now.

Moving over to your closet, you mindlessly shift through your clothes, not feeling up to changing at the moment. You just want to lay in bed and rest, but unfortunately, your life has to go on. Such is the pain of being apart of such an important family.

Deciding you should at least put on some proper pants, you change swiftly, trudging downstairs slowly afterwards, and bracing yourself for the day you have in front of you.

Meanwhile, Taemin changes quickly in his room. His skin is still warm from where you had been touching him before you had moved, and he misses the comforting feeling of you being in his arms. His only wish was that it could have lasted for even just a little while longer.

While washing his face, the door attached to Ten’s room opens, revealing him now casually leaning on the doorframe and staring at his brother expectantly.

“You weren’t in your room when I got back last night,” Ten states, a small inquisitive quirk to his eyebrow.

“I was with (Y/n) last night,” Taemin replies casually, noticing the way his brother’s eye twitches at the mention of your name.

“Sleeping with the clientele, are we?” Ten muses, shaking his head in mock disappointment. He always thought better of his brother to not intrude on personal space, especially not after a day like yesterday.

“Relax, it wasn’t like that,” Taemin rolls his eyes slightly, turning to face his brother while leaning casually on the bathroom counter. “She asked me to stay with her for comfort. She said I make her feel safe.”

Though he looks visibly unaffected, Ten’s jaw can’t help but twitch in clear annoyance. Again, he should have been the one to comfort you in your time of need, not Taemin. He only wishes he could have been given that opportunity to make sure you were alright last night. He wants an opportunity to get closer to you, and learn more about you, just like his brother did. Or so he believes.

“We should get going, they’re expecting us downstairs,” Taemin’s voice manages to pull Ten out of his thoughts.

Ten finds he can only nod his head once in response. Pushing himself off the frame of the door, he retreats back into his room before making his way downstairs. They both make sure to check your room first though, just to make sure you’ve already made your way to the main floor of the house.

Sitting at one end of the dining room table, you watch as your two guards enter the room, moving to stand on either side of you once in position. Now, you’re just waiting for your father to arrive. He had to leave early this morning for a press statement, or so your mother tells you.

You let out a small breath, fiddling with your phone in front of you as you receive a barrage of messages from both Ayla and Jongin, as well as your other friends around the globe who’ve heard of the news. Most of them have heard about what happened yesterday, and want to make sure you’re okay. They also know about what happened to Damien, so they send you their deepest condolences, of which you’re grateful for. You don’t know what you’d do without them still in your life.

Soon enough, your father is arriving home and you all begin your discussions around what the next week will look like. Your university will remained closed until further notice while the investigation is underway, as well as to honour Damien’s memory. They’re going to hold a public wake at the school in about a week’s time, after his main funeral takes place. His main funeral will be in three day’s time for only close friends and family. You make a note to let Ayla and Jongin know about that as soon as you can.

You are to be on lockdown in the house for the next little bit to make sure that no one else will come after you in public. The only exceptions to this rule are the day of Damien’s funeral, as well as the wake if you choose to go.

Your parents will be busy doing press interviews for the next little bit, as the special ops forces work to catch whoever is behind these assassination attempts. They also want you to pick back up on your old self defence training, and they’ve assigned your bodyguards to help train you.

Not only do your parents want you to brush up on your hand-to-hand combat skills, but they also want you to learn how to properly shoot a gun. They tell you that it’s for your own protection, and also in case of emergencies, which you simply nod your head along to whatever they say.

At this point, your mind is on information overload, and you just want to retreat back to your room, curl up in bed or on the couch, and watch a movie to take your mind off of things. At least you have the next little bit off of school, though you just wish it was for better reasons than this. You sigh.

An hour and a half later, you’re all finished talking, all updated on the most recent of events. Your parents each have something they need to do, and you’re glad that they’re allowing you time to yourself to do whatever you need to. Whether it be grieve, scream, or lay in a silent emotional void for a bit, you’re unsure. What you do know, is that as soon as they dismiss you, you’re standing up from your seat and practically rushing back to your room.

Reaching the safe confines of your room, you grab your comforter off of your bed, and move over to your one couch facing your television. Taemin and Ten follow your every movement, watching as you toss the blanket over the couch while moving over to grab your laptop in the next second. Setting up the screen, you plug in your laptop adapter to reflect your screen on the television, deciding that you’re going to watch your favourite movie to take your mind off of things.

Sitting down on a corner of your couch once you’ve set everything up, you wrap the comforter around yourself. Looking over your shoulder, you see both Ten and Taemin standing a little ways away from you, eyes shining with curiosity. You can also see the concern reflected in their eyes still, a fact that makes you sigh.

“The two of you might want to get comfortable and join me, I’m probably going to be here for a while,” you say, turning your attention back to your screen as the opening of your favourite movie begins to play.

They say nothing as they move over to join you. Ten takes the opposite end of the couch you’re on, while Taemin takes the chair directly beside you. Both of them spare a glance towards you before locking eyes with each other. They’re both surprised with how calm you seem at the moment. Honestly, they’d say you appear more tired than anything.

About halfway through the movie, Ten looks over to see that you’ve fallen asleep. Your head rests slightly on the back of the couch, but the angle you’re sitting in looks fairly uncomfortable.

His eyes briefly flick over to Taemin before letting out a small breath, noticing how his brother is focussed on the screen.

Shifting slightly, he moves closer to you, gently pulling you down on the couch so your don’t wake up with a sore neck. However, what he doesn’t expect is for you to sigh and lean into him.

His heart races in his chest as you manage to push him back on the couch slightly, hand resting on his chest as his one arm naturally wraps around your shoulders, allowing you to comfortably rest your head on him. He looks down at you with slightly stunned features, noticing how a little bit of your hair has fallen over your face. He goes to brush it away.

“What are you doing?” Taemin’s voice manages to halt any movements Ten is about to make.

Looking up, he meets the hard gaze of his brother, a smug expression on his face as he sees Taemin’s eyes failing to hide the slight jealousy in them.

“Getting comfortable,” Ten responds, gently brushing the hair out of your face all the while maintaining eye contact with Taemin.

You simply hum at Ten’s touch, shifting slightly to bury yourself deeper into his warm embrace subconsciously. You remain asleep as the two brothers stare each other down, Taemin’s jaw clenching as the corner of Ten’s lips turn up slightly. Now, it’s his turn to hold you.

Reluctantly, Taemin tears his gaze away from you being held in Ten’s arms. His jaw remains set in a firm line as his emotions begin to take over his thoughts. He knows he got to hold you last night, and that it didn’t mean anything, but he can’t help but think that it meant something. You went to him for comfort. You asked him to stay with you last night, and now, seeing you curled up in Ten’s arms sets his blood boiling. He doesn’t care that Ten’s his brother, he’s the one that’s going to protect you, the one that will keep you safe. He’s the better option for you, not Ten.

Meanwhile, Ten basks in the glory that is you curled up, sleeping in his arms. You look so peaceful like this, as if the events of the previous day haven’t had the chance to affect you yet. He takes this time to admire your features, memorizing every detail and falling deeper into the feelings only you seem to be able to stir within his chest. It only makes him prouder that you’ve leant into him considering he didn’t get to comfort you, or hold you at all, last night like he so badly wanted to do. Now, he gets you all to himself in a way, and he couldn’t be more content. Knowing his brother is fuming only makes this feeling that much more sweeter. After all, he’s the one who’ll make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again. He’s what you deserve.

You manage to sleep for the next hour or so, the movie long over by the time you wake up. Noticing the position you’re in, heat rises up your neck as you sit up from Ten’s hold, retracting back to the opposite side of the couch while muttering a small sorry, and avoiding his eyes. He simple smiles warmly at you in response, thinking about how cute you look avoiding his gaze. All the while, Taemin stares at him with narrowed eyes.

The three of you remain in your room for the rest of the day, them keeping you company as you watch movies to pass the time and take your mind off of things. The only time you leave your room is to grab food and drinks, opting to skip a major meal for dinner that night, thinking you won’t be able to stomach it due to the fact that you’ve barely had a large appetite since the incident.

“Your parents want you to start your self-defence training as soon as possible,” Taemin’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts after a while. “Do you think you’ll be willing to start tomorrow?”

It takes you a moment to think over his words, letting out a small sigh as you answer him, “the sooner, the better, right?”

“As long as you’re feeling up to it,” Ten adds, shooting you a soft look, eyes reflecting his concern for you. “It would probably be for the best.”

“Then tomorrow it is,” you nod, closing your eyes briefly as you take a deep breath.

“You should get some rest,” Taemin says, standing up from his chair and stretching slightly.

You simply nod in response, watching as Ten stands up as well.

“Are you going to be okay for the evening?” Ten asks, looking down at you, who has tucked the blanket all the way up to your chin.

“I think so,” you nod, shifting your gaze upwards to lock eyes with him, and noticing something flash behind his own, but it’s gone just as quickly as it came.

“If you need us, don’t be afraid to come get one of us,” Taemin tells you, already moving over to your door to retreat to his room for the evening.

“Thank you,” comes your simple response, sending one final nod your way as they both exit your room for the evening, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

A sigh escapes Ten’s lips as he shuts your door behind him, noticing Taemin already making his way down the hall and to his own room. He had hoped you’d ask for him to stay with you for the night, just like you had done the previous night with his brother. Holding you in his arms today has only made him realize that he wants to be able to do so more often, but without the added company next time.

As soon as he had asked that question, Taemin caught on to what his brother was doing. He couldn’t help but smirk slightly at your denial of his hidden advances, although, he would have preferred if you had asked for him to stay with you for another night. Seeing you wrapped up in his brother’s arms just made him want to show his brother that you don’t belong to him. After all, he shouldn’t touch what isn’t his.

The next day, the three of you make your way to the sub-basement, where a designated training area has been set up for times like these. As you step into the large room, filled with sparring mats, amongst other things, your eyes widen. It still amazes you how they can fit a small shooting range down here, kind of like your own personalized bat cave, only significantly smaller and less cool.

“What did you want to start with first?” Ten asks as you turn your attention towards him.

“Maybe shooting? Seeing as sparring might take more of my energy later,” you say, failing to notice the subtle smirk that pulls at Taemin’s lips at your words. “I’d rather be able to lift my arm without it shaking from exhaustion.”

“Fair enough,” Ten nods, eye twitching slightly as he sees his brother’s smug look. He has to keep telling himself it doesn’t mean anything that you chose Taemin over him to start. After all, this is just training. Even so, he can’t help but frown as he turns away, noticing how you walk closer to Taemin, and away from him.

Pulling out his gun, Taemin leads you over to a side table. Once there, he swiftly pulls apart the pistol, placing each component carefully on the table in front of you.

“First things first, if you want to shoot a gun, you should learn exactly how each piece fits together with the other,” he says, looking over at you and watching your eyes flick over the separate pieces of his most prized possession. “If you want to know how to shoot a gun, you need to learn to assemble it first.”

Grabbing each piece he needs, he slowly begins piecing each part back together, you watching him closely the whole time. You listen intently to everything he says, eyes hardly ever leaving his hands as they assemble the gun into one solid piece.

Ten watches all of this with a slight scowl on his face. He doesn’t appreciate how close his brother is standing to you. There’s no reason your arms should be almost touching as Taemin explains the mechanics of the gun to you. 

He knows exactly what his brother is doing to him, and he hates it, for he knows that Taemin is doing this on purpose, just to torment him. It’s been a long time since either one of them has wanted the same thing this badly, and neither are going to give up easily until they obtain their goal.

Another thing that bothers Ten is that he knows Taemin is using his favourite gun for this training exercise. Taemin rarely ever lets anyone touch, let alone assemble his favourite gun. Hell, Ten’s only used it twice before in his life, and he got scolded both times, even if they were both in critical life or death situations. This just makes Ten’s brow furrow further in discontent, knowing that his brother is this serious about you to let you train with his prized pistol.

This fact only makes him more antsy for his own turn to train with you. Then, he might be able to turn this on his brother, for he’ll be able to keep you close to him for nearly the entire time. After all, sparring is a contact sport.

Soon, Taemin is disassembling his gun once more in order for you to reassemble it this time. He places each component back on the table, turning his gaze to lock eyes with you.

“Got it?” He quirks a brow, and he sees you smile softly.

“I think so,” you nod once, and the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly.

Reaching out your hand, you grab the first piece, slowly assembling the gun just as Taemin had done previously. He watches you carefully the whole time, noticing how you bite your lip slightly in concentration as you put the pieces of the weapon together again. He can feel his heart racing slightly in his chest, not only from having you so near to him again, but also from seeing you holding his favourite gun. The way you hold it, so gently, carefully putting the pieces back together, makes his mind wander. 

Is this how delicately you would treat your lover? Holding them as if they’re the most precious thing in the world? Or maybe the way you would care for a child, gently caressing them as you cradled them to your chest. These thoughts, and more, race through his mind, serving to distract him.

“Done!” Your proud voice manages to pull him out of his thoughts.

Looking down at the gun now placed on the table, he admires how quickly you’ve picked this skill up. A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he glances to you fondly, pride swelling in his chest at how well you’ve handled his prized possession. He knew you wouldn’t disappoint him.

“Good,” he nods, taking the weapon once more into his hands and disassembling it agains. “Now do it once more.”

He sees determination shine in your eyes as you nod your head at him. Your movements are much quicker this time as you’re more sure in your actions. He watches you with a content look on his face, amusement and pride swirling behind his eyes.

“By the way, this is a really nice pistol,” you comment, putting the last of the pieces together. “Is it custom?”

Once whole, you run your thumb over the engravings of the vines on the side of the barrel, staring down at the weapon with wonder shining in your eyes. You notice the small L.T.M carved into the side of the gun, just above the handle, as you flip it around in your hand to pass it back to him.

“It is,” he confirms, smirking down at the object now placed back in his own hand. He surprised you noticed, but the fact that you have just makes you appear more endearing to him. A fact that makes him confident that he’s made the right decision in wanting to pursue these emotions you stir within him. “It’s my favourite gun in my entire collection. I always carry it with me.”

“I see,” you respond, taken slightly aback by his words. You’re surprised he’s letting you use his favourite gun for training. “Thank you for trusting me enough to use it.”

“Of course,” comes his blunt reply, turning away from you so you can’t see the smug smile that wants to break out on his face, but Ten does. “Come on, let’s check your aim.”

Moving over to the small shooting range that has been set up, Taemin grabs two pairs of protective earmuffs, and eyewear for you. Handing you one of them, he briefly explains how to go about aiming the gun, and the kickback. You nod along to everything he’s saying, listening intently and taking in every detail you can in order to help you with your shooting.

“Those are the basics, so let’s see what you can do,” he says, handing over his precious pistol to you once more, after checking to make sure that it’s loaded.

“Right,” you respond, taking the gun once more into your hands after putting the protective gear on your head.

Raising the gun with both hands, you take aim, feeling the solid weight of the item in your grasp. You let out a small breath as you fire your first shot, slightly caught off guard at the kickback of the weapon, despite Taemin’s previous warning. You notice him chuckle beside you as you readjust your stance, taking aim once more and firing off a few more shots.

In total, you’ve fired six shots out of twelve, and only four of them have made contact with the target. A small pout resides on your lips as you notice the shots that did hit the target are way off their mark. Adjusting your earmuffs, you pull one off on one side, resting it just beside your ear enough so that you can better hear the world around you, noticing Taemin doing the same.

“This is harder than I thought,” you grumble, only causing Taemin to chuckle once more.

“It takes a lot of skill to handle a gun, especially for the first time,” he says, grin never leaving his lips as he takes a step towards you. “Still, I’m impressed. Most people miss the target the first time.”

“Why do I feel like you’re only saying that to make me feel better,” you huff, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

“He’s not,” Ten’s voice cuts in, making you blink in surprise. You had almost forgotten he’s still in the room with you guys, given how quiet he’s been. “You should be grateful, he rarely praises anybody.”

Noticing the look his brother is giving him, Taemin smirks. He can practically feel the jealous eyes of his brother on him the whole time, only serving to make Taemin more smug about this whole situation. In fact, he’s even going to take this a step further, and show Ten just how close he can get to you.

“Here, adjust your grip and hold it like this,” moving closer to you, Taemin takes your hands into his own, guiding your hands over the gun as he leaves his overtop of yours. Stepping behind you, he fixes your stance to better accommodate your aim. His arms encase you between them, guiding you, and showing you how to shoot properly.

The whole time, he whispers the instructions into your ear, sending a slight shiver down your spine. A fact which doesn’t go unnoticed by him, making him smirk. He can practically feel the burning gaze of his brother on his back as he holds you in his arms, taking aim and telling you to shoot once more.

Ten bites his lip as he watches Taemin do all of this with you right in front of his eyes. It wasn’t enough for his brother to just stand close to you, but now he has the audacity to flaunt being able to touch you like this right in front of him. He clenches his jaw as your next six shots are right on target, never missing once.

Thank goodness the two of you are almost done for the day, and his turn is next. He’ll make sure to show his brother exactly where he stands with you, and put him in his place. If Ten has to suffer through watching you being held and touched by Taemin, he’ll make sure to show him exactly how it felt. Except, he’ll make sure to make it much worse for him. No one, not even his brother, gets away with touching you like that. No one.

Shifting your gaze to look at Taemin, a large grin spreads across your features. He stares back, a satisfied grin on his own face as he reluctantly releases you from his hold and takes a step back.

“Well done,” he praises, only serving to make your smile widen.

“That was amazing, oh my god,” your words come out in a slight jumble as they spill out of your mouth, handing him his gun back as you remove the protective gear and place it to the side. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Neither can I,” Ten grumbles under his breath, yet Taemin still manages to hear.

Shooting his brother a victorious smirk, Taemin turns his full attention back to you. “Why don’t you take a small break before you begin sparring practice. You’ve earned it.”

The smile never leaves your face as you reply to him, “good idea.”

Walking over to where his brother is now standing with crossed arms, Taemin smirks, “what’s wrong, brother? Is something the matter?”

“You know exactly what’s bothering me, don’t act so coy,” Ten replies, meeting Taemin’s intense gaze with his own deadly stare.

“I didn’t realize how attached you would get,” Taemin replies, mirroring Ten’s stance and crossing his own arms over his chest.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, brother,” Ten hisses, eyes narrowing as he watches Taemin laugh lowly.

“Do you really think you can win against me?” Taemin quirks a brow, daring Ten to challenge him. “I always get what I want, and I don’t intend to lose.”

“Well, you better be prepared for what’s to come then, brother,” Ten states, confidence high as he raises his head slightly in order to intimidate Taemin, “because I intend to win.”

Meanwhile, you move over to the side, grabbing the water bottle that you’ve brought with you for this occasion. Taking a drink, you let out a small content sigh once you’ve had your fill. Wiping at your forehead with the back of your hand, you take in a deep breath. If only Damien could see you now.

He was always fascinated with this sort of thing. Well, at least in video games. You know he would have loved every second of this, and you just wish he could have been here to experience it with you.

Another sigh escapes passed your lips, this once more sorrowful than the last. Closing your eyes briefly, you hope that wherever he is, that he’s in a better place now. At least that’s what you’d like to think.

Opening your eyes back up, you place your water bottle back down. Stretching briefly, you raise your arms above your head, tilting it from side to side and hearing a few satisfying pops sound from your spine. Dropping your hands back to your side, you begin to make your way back over to your two guards, who have both seemingly moved over to where the sparring mats have been set up.

Catching Ten’s gaze, a small smile takes over his features as you move towards them, one which you return.

“Ready to begin?” He asks once you’ve gotten close enough to them.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you joke, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere you’ve just walked into.

“Good,” he nods, moving over to one side of the mat. “Then let’s begin.”

With a nod, you step onto the sparring mats, Ten standing directly across from you. After a few quick stretches to make sure you won’t pull anything, you’re ready to begin combat training.

“Alright,” Ten says, moving into a fighting stance, “show me what you’ve got.”

Jumping into action, you manage to catch him slightly off-guard, for he’s not expecting you to move right away. You manage to throw a punch at him, only for him to dodge your fist and have you pinned to the mat in the next second.

Your eyes are wide as you stare into his own, him wearing a slight smirk on his face. Your reflexes may be fast, but his are faster.

“That was good,” he comments. “You seem to have good speed, but you don’t know how to read your opponent properly yet.”

In the blink of an eye, you flip him over, pinning him to the mats beneath you.

Now it’s his turn to look at you with wide eyes. No one has ever been able to pin him before. He can hear Taemin laughing in disbelief off to the side, only causing him to grit his teeth in response.

“First rule they teach you in any sort of combat training,” you grin, leaning in closer to his face, “never underestimate your opponent.”

“You got me,” he chuckles, already missing the feel of you on top of him as you move to stand up.

You offer him your hand, to which he takes, as you help him get back onto his feet. Your grin only seems to widen as the two of you get back into your starting positions.

A few moments pass by, the both of you now taking your time to size each other up. This time, you don’t want to be the one to make the first move.

“Don’t hold back,” Ten tells you.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you reply smugly, causing his heart to skip a beat. Your determination is admirable, a fact that he likes about you.

In the blink of an eye, Ten jumps into action. You barely have time to register his attack, but your body seems to move on its own accord, narrowly dodging the hit he sends your way.

He continues throwing hit after hit your way, a few landing as you attempt to keep your defences up. His speed is incredible, though, and you struggle to keep up.

Gritting your teeth in frustration, you wait for an opportune opening to counter. However, it doesn’t look like you’re going to be getting one any time soon. He really knows how to cover his own ass.

The whole time, Taemin watches on in amusement. Never has anyone been able to keep up with Ten like this for their first time. To say he’s impressed would be an understatement. You just keep surprising the both of them today, and they couldn’t be happier.

Ducking underneath a kick Ten sends your way, you manage to lose your footing. A small ‘shit’ leaves your mouth as you land on your back, Ten taking the opportunity to pin you down in the next moment. This time, he makes sure to lock your body beneath his, so you can’t flip him again.

Holding your arms down beside your head, Ten leans down towards your face. Both of you are breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breaths as you stare at one another intently.

“You are very surprising,” he manages to say between breaths, making you smile.

“So I’ve been told,” you giggle, struggling slightly to get out of his grip.

Feeling your attempts to get free only causes him to smirk. He loves the feeling of you pinned beneath him, the sight being an incredible one to behold. Now, if only the two of you were alone, then maybe he would just be able to lean down and attach his lips to yours. Maybe he still might, just to prove to his brother that only he can have you.

“Ten?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, his eyes focussing back in on your face which is reflecting slight discomfort at the position you’re being held in. “Do you mind getting off of me now?”

“Right, sorry,” moving swiftly, he hops back onto his feet, helping you to stand up in the next moment. He would have preferred staying in that position for longer, but he doesn’t want to push you, or make you uncomfortable around him. “Here, why don’t we test the strength in your kicks and punches now, seeing as you haven’t been able to land a single hit. There’s more to sparring than just evasion.”

“Sounds good to me,” with a quick nod from you, the two of you are moving over to the punching bag set up in the corner of the room.

“First things first, we need to wrap your hands,” grabbing a fresh roll of tape, Ten gently takes your hands into his own.

As Ten wraps your hands for you, he can’t help but note how perfectly they seem to fit into his own. He makes sure to hold you as gently as he can, showing you how careful and delicate he can be with you. After all, you deserve nothing but the best.

“There, that should be good enough,” Ten says after a few minutes.

Ever so slowly, he removes his hands from yours, his fingertips tingling from where he had just been touching you. He already misses the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips, and he only hopes he can feel it again soon, but next time, he wants to feel more.

Shooting a glance over at Taemin, Ten notices how his jaw seems to be clenched, only causing him to smirk in response. Now his brother knows how it feels, and it’s only going to get worse from here.

Looking down at your now taped hands, you flex them a few times. They feel slightly foreign to you now, as you’ve never had them taped like this before, and each time you flex them, you can feel the tape around your skin, pulling slightly. You smirk.

Shifting your gaze up, you see Ten already standing behind the punching bag, staring at you with a soft expression on his face, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it came. You quirk a brow, moving over to stand in front of him.

“Judging from the way you clocked Minhyuk the other day, I’m assuming you already know how to hit properly,” he says, watching as you nod at him in response. “Good. Now, let’s see what you’re got.”

With another nod from you, you’re getting into a fighting stance, preparing for what you’re about to do. As soon as Ten gives you the okay to start, you begin to hit the punching bag with all you’ve got. Each hit of your fist against the material makes a small sound on impact, and you can see Ten adjust his stance to accommodate for your hits as he holds onto the punching bag.

As you continue to strike the bag, Ten gives you tips to adjust your stance to make your hits more powerful. You listen intently, immediately implicating his advice and seeing the power behind your punches, as well as your stability, increase.

The whole while, Taemin watches on with fondness shining in his eyes. He could care less about his brother being as close to you as he is, but seeing you working hard, and enjoying what you’re doing make his heart warm. You really are something else.

You start to add a few kicks into the mix, but you’re not quite used to them yet. You’ve never really needed to kick anything or anyone before, so the first time you nearly lose your balance. Luckily, you’re able to catch yourself before you fall.

Chuckling slightly, Ten move beside you, allowing for you to catch your breath for a minute as he give you tips on how to land a solid kick. You listen closely, nodding your head along to every word. Once he demonstrates though, your eyes are widening in awe.

“Wow,” you can’t help but mutter, causing a smug look to cross his features as he spares a glance towards a fuming Taemin.

“Now you try,” he says, seeing you nod, and getting into position.

Your foot makes a solid impact with the bag, causing it to sway slightly as Ten hadn’t been holding it in place that time. A large smile rests on your features as you take in your efforts.

“That was really good,” Ten praises, only serving to make your smile widen. “Ready to try sparring one more time?”

“Sure!” You confirm, heading back over to the sparring mats while Ten follows closely behind.

“Okay, whenever you’re ready,” he says, the both of you now back in position.

You waste no time in attacking him now, but he easily avoids you. This time, as he moves to counter you, you observe him carefully, getting a sense of his attack pattern. 

About half way through your sparring match, neither of you has managed to take the other down yet, and you notice something akin to surprise and fondness shining in Ten’s eyes. A fact which you’ll use to your advantage.

Letting him get in a hit on your side, you react accordingly. Hissing slightly, you stumble back, noticing out of the corner of your eyes how Taemin takes a worried step forward, anger shining in his eyes as he stares his brother down. You nearly furrow your brow in confusion, but you have a plan to stick to.

“Shit,” you hear Ten curse, not realizing how powerful he made that hit, and thinking it’s worse than it is.

You take this opportunity as he moves in with a lowered guard to swipe his feet from under him, landing him on his back. Moving quickly, you pin him down, smirking victoriously.

“You shouldn’t let your opponent distract you,” you tease, a smirk pulling at your features as he looks up at you in shock. “Second rule they teach you in combat training.”

You let out a small giggle, staring into Ten’s eyes as his expression morphs into one of awe. He still can’t believe you’ve been able to pin him. Not just once, but twice.

All too soon, you’re standing up off of him, and helping him to his feet. Again, he misses the feeling of you touching him, whether it be above or beneath him.

“Well, I think I’ve had enough training for one day,” you yawn, stretching your hands once more above your head. Your shirt manages to ride up slightly this time, exposing a sliver of skin on your stomach, and driving the two men wild. Taemin licks his lips while Ten swallows slightly.

“You’ve done well today,” Taemin comments, coming over to hand you your water bottle, of which you thank him.

“Yeah, you’re already further along than we both could have expected,” Ten adds, making you look down in slight embarrassment.

“Oh, you guys are just saying that,” you chuckle, feeling your face heat up in the next moment.

“No,” Ten shakes his head.

“We’re not,” Taemin finishes.

Their words only serve to make you more bashful, turning away slightly as you take a drink of water. You fail to see the both of them staring at you fondly before turning to narrow their eyes at each other.

Letting out a small sigh, you place your water bottle on one of the tables off to the side. Just as you’re about to unwrap your hands, a gentle touch stops you. Looking up reveals Ten smiling softly at you.

“Here,” he says, beginning to undo the tape, “let me.”

You don’t say anything in response, opting to nod your head slowly instead. Silently, you watch Ten work, eyes following his every movement as he slowly and carefully removes the tape from around your hands. 

His touch is so gentle, so soft, that it warms your heart. His touch makes you feel as if he’s treating you as if you’re a delicate glass object, but you know he doesn’t think that. A fact which only causes a small smile to grace your lips.

It’s as if the two of you are in your own world once he finishes taking the tape off of your hands. The two of you unaware of your surroundings for a moment as you stare into each other’s eyes. You can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you see him glance at your lips.

A clearing of someone’s throat manages to break the two of you out of your silent bubble. Ten forces himself to tear his gaze away from you, looking over to see Taemin standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Come on,” he says, turning away from you in the next moment. “Let’s go.”

Without another word, Taemin grabs his things and heads out of the room towards the stairs, the two of you following close behind. 

Ten can feel his heart racing in his chest, thinking back to only moments ago. It felt as if it was only you and him. He knows the two of you just shared an intimate moment together, and he could not be happier. It would have been better only if Taemin didn’t interrupt. He sighs, already planning his next move carefully. He knows he has to get you alone. Then, and only then, will he be able to make you his, once and for all.

The next few weeks seem to pass by in a blur for you. Between Damien’s funeral, his wake at your university, not having to go to class or worry about assignments, and also training practice, you’ve been fairly busy. Luckily, you’ve had a good support system consisting of your family, friends, and even your two bodyguards.

Over the past few weeks, the three of you have grown closer to one another. So much so, you gladly consider them your friends, rather than two men hired to protect you. You wouldn’t trade them for anything, and you’re glad you have them with you. However, you’ve noticed that their behaviour has been a little off the past few days.

As for Ten and Taemin, their mock rivalry has become even more intense between them since that first day of training. Their competition over who will have you, and win your heart, is at the forefront of their minds. Well, besides looking after you, of course, but that’s just second nature to them by now.

If one gets an opportunity to spend alone time with you one day, the other gets an equal opportunity the next. Neither of them have gained an upper hand yet, for you don’t seem to favour one over the other, a fact that bothers both of them. Each of them believe they’re better for you, they just need to get you to see that before it’s too late.

Currently, you’re sitting at the dinner table for the evening with your parents, discussing what the upcoming week is going to look like. You let out a sigh as you pick at your food, each of your guards respectfully stationed around the room.

“We’ll be hosting a charity event in a few days’ time at our home here,” your father explains, and you nod absentmindedly. “I expect you to be on your best behaviour, and for you to dress appropriately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” you quirk a brow, looking up from your plate to meet your father’s gaze.

“You have to wear a dress this time, (Y/n),” your mother chimes in, taking a sip of her drink.

“Excuse me?” You state in disbelief. “I can wear a dress if the occasion calls for it.”

“We know, sweetie. It’s just that it’s not your usual style,” your mother adds.

“Just because I don’t particularly like wearing fancy dresses doesn’t mean I can’t,” you sigh.

“Alright,” your mother chuckles. “Maybe you can go out tomorrow to look for a dress with Ayla or someone.”

“I actually think I already have a dress I can wear,” you reply, taking a sip of your own drink.

“I think I know the one you’re talking about,” your father nods. “That will be acceptable.”

“Thanks dad,” you shoot him a small smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Standing up, you clear your dishes from the table, bringing them to the kitchen to place them in the sink soon after. You let out a sigh as you begin to make your way to your room for the evening shortly afterwards. You don’t even have to look to know that Taemin and Ten are following close behind.

Stopping just in front of your door, you turn to them.

“I think I’m just going to head to bed early tonight, so you guys are free to do whatever,” you shrug, entering your room in the next moment and closing the door before they can respond.

You’ve been noticing that they’ve both started to stand closer to you than usual lately, going the extra mile to make sure you’re safe. You almost feel suffocated, but you know they mean well. You just need an evening to yourself for once.

The two of them share a look before heading down the hall to their own rooms for the evening, silence hanging thickly in the air. Neither say anything as they enter their respective rooms, both thinking about what dress you could have possibly been talking about. Either way, they both cannot wait to see what you decide to wear when the time comes. Even they get to dress up for the occasion, and both of them cannot wait to show you just how good they can look, especially for you.

Eventually, the day of the event comes and you’re currently in your room getting ready for the evening. You can faintly hear people moving about throughout your house in preparation for the evening, and you begin to wonder why the event is being hosted at your own house. Considering your family is still under threat, having this event at your own house seems a bit counter productive. You just hope there’s a bigger plan in action tonight in case anything goes south.

Letting out a small sigh, you lay the dress you’re going to be wearing this evening on your bed. Luckily, you’re able to get ready by yourself, seeing as your two guards also have to prepare for the evening. 

Moving over to your bathroom, you turn on your shower, making sure the temperature of the water is just right before stepping in. Taking your time, you make sure to scrub your entire body clean. After all, there will be a lot of press coverage of the event tonight, and you want to make sure you’re looking, and feeling, your best.

Stepping out of the shower once you’re done, you dry yourself off slowly. Throwing on your robe, you work on doing your hair and make up before changing into your dress for the evening. The last thing you want is to ruin your dress.

About an hour and a half later, you’re finally done your hair and makeup. Checking your phone for the time, you inhale sharply. You didn’t realize how late it got, and guest should start arriving any minute now.

Sure enough, you can hear cars starting to pull up your driveway in the next minute. So much for being ready on time.

Sighing, you move out of your bathroom and back into the main area of your bedroom. You decide to take your time change into your dress for the evening, seeing as you’re already running a little behind on time. If you’re going to be late, might as well make a stunning entrance.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve finished pulling on your outfit for the evening, making sure everything is in place and that you haven’t ruined your hair or your makeup. Looking over yourself one final time in your mirror, you smile at yourself. You’re happy with how you look for the evening, your entire look suiting your figure perfectly.

Slipping on your heels, you smooth out your dress one final time before heading out of your room for the evening, moving to join the guests downstairs.

Making it to the top of the stairs, you find yourself halting. Your eyes scan the crowd of people, all dressed up for this occasion and conversing amongst themselves. You can faintly hear the soft music of the string quartet playing in the background, creating a nice ambiance for the event at hand. 

No one has noticed you yet, you just silently watching from your location. All except two men who stand just below you.

“Wow,” Ten breaths out as he watches your form descend on the staircase slowly. 

Taemin is able to maintain his composure slightly better than his brother, but that doesn’t stop his eyes from widening slightly as he takes in your full appearance. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears as you make your way towards the two of them, an air of confidence surrounding you like never before.

To say you look stunning would be an understatement. The way your golden gown wraps around your figure makes it look like you’re wearing liquid gold, giving you an almost ethereal glow; makeup and hair done to perfection.

As you walk over to them, you take this time to fully take in their appearances for the evening. Taemin is wearing a dark pinstripe suit with a black and white striped dress shirt underneath, completed with a silk tie tied loosely around his neck with a black and white polkadot pattern scattered upon it. Ten is wearing a simple black suit and tie, but with a red dress shirt tucked underneath. To say they look good would be an understatement.

Reaching the two men, you send them a small smile, causing their hearts to race in their chests.

“Wow,” Ten repeats, eyes continuing to drink in your figure. He can never seem to get enough.

“You look-“ Taemin continues before being cut off by Ten.

“Breathtaking,” Ten finishes with an exhale.

Taemin briefly shoots him a hard look, mad at his brother for taking the words right out of his mouth. He wanted to compliment you before his brother got a chance to.

“Thanks,” you grin, somewhat shyly.

Noticing the way a few men begin to stare at you, Taemin scowls, “that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Than what were you going to say, exactly?” Ten quirks a brow, a silent challenge for his brother.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taemin narrows his eyes slightly at Ten, on edge already from the continued looks you’re receiving from the males from around the room, as well as from his brother. “Maybe, overdressed.”

His comment catches you off-guard, and you find yourself taken aback slightly. You could have sworn that he looked like he liked what you were wearing.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” you grumble, expression falling slightly. This is why you don’t like getting dressed up. Every time you think you look nice, someone always seems to slap you with a backhanded compliment.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” Ten says, shooting a look towards Taemin before turning to look at you with a soft gaze. “I think you look stunning. Care to dance?”

At this, he offers you his hand, a small smile resting on his features as he watches you carefully. His eyes light up as he sees you smile slightly, gently placing your hand in his as he guides you to the open space of the dance floor.

Placing one hand gently on your waist as the other holds yours in his own, he pulls you closer to himself. As soon as the waltz starts, the two of you are moving across the room, captivating those surrounding you.

Meanwhile, Taemin stands off to the side with a scowl on his face. He knows he did this to himself, but he didn’t mean for his words to come out the way they did. He let his creeping jealousy control his mouth for a moment, and it cost him.

Now, instead of dancing with him, you’re being held in his brother’s arms as you move gracefully around the room. He finds himself biting the inside of his cheek as he stares on, wanting nothing more than to share this moment with you himself.

The whole time, Ten can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He can sense more and more people’s eyes on the two of you as you move around the room, and he couldn’t be happier. He can’t help but to think that now everyone can see that you belong with him. After all, thanks to the whispers from the crowd, he’s confirmed that the two of you are perfect for each other.

Once the music ends, the two of you stand momentarily in the centre of the room once more, just staring into each others eyes. Faint sounds of people conversing with each other as well as the quartet starting up another song can be heard in the background, but you don’t really pay much mind to them. All you can focus on right now is Ten, and the way he’s making you feel.

Staring into his eyes, you can see a certain type of fondness reflecting in them, causing your mouth to go dry. No one has ever looked at you like that, like you’re the greatest thing in the entire world; a gift to be treasured and valued.

“What an entrance!” Your father’s voice manages to pull you out of your little bubble, practically jumping out of Ten’s hold in the next second to stand tall and face your father. “I’ve been overhearing nothing but good things about you since you walked down those stairs.”

“Thanks, dad,” you mutter, a small heat creeping up your neck.

“You look beautiful, dear,” your mother smiles at you, causing you to mirror her smile.

“Thank you,” you subconsciously smooth your dress out once more. “As do you.”

“The charity auction should begin in a few minutes,” your father informs you, to which you nod your head, noticing how both Ten and Taemin have come to stand beside you now. “I expect you to continue to be on your best behaviour.”

“Yes, father,” you sigh, having to keep yourself from rolling your eyes at him.

Your mother simply sends you a wink as they walk away arm in arm. You let out another sigh, shaking your head slightly.

“Just for one fucking event, I don’t want to have to be ‘prim and proper’ like this,” you mutter under your breath, low enough so no one can hear you, yet your two guards manage to do so.

At your words, they share a brief glance between each other, their brows quirking slightly as they follow you to the side of the room.

The next ten minutes or so pass by fairly slowly for you, having to converse with some of the upper elites, and those your parents work with. Many of them either rub you the wrong way, or treat you as if you’re incapable of having a coherent thought, which just irks you to no end. Yet another reason why you dislike getting dressed up like this, many people just equate you to simply another pretty face, basing your worth in how you look, rather than your intelligence.

You hear the sounds of the quartet slowly coming to a close as the tapping of a microphone draws people’s attention to the front of the room. You’re grateful for the interruption, considering you don’t think you could have lasted much longer listening to this senator talk about how much times have changed.

“Good evening to all, and thank you all for coming,” your father begins to speak as people shift towards where he and your mother are standing. “I would like to take the time now to-“

You zone out slightly to what he’s saying, no longer that interested in what’s going on. You just want this event to be over so you can put your feet up and rest for the evening, and you haven’t even been socializing for more than a few hours. Shifting from foot to foot, you attempt to get comfortable on your feet, which are beginning to ache from standing for this amount of time in your heels.

Taemin stands to your right while Ten stands off to your left, both of them glancing to you out of the corner of their eyes every now and then. They can see your disinterest in this whole ordeal, even though you hide it well.

Taemin takes this time to look around the room too, scanning for any potential threats that may be lurking around if they’ve managed to slip through the tight security at your home. 

Ten, on the other hand, chooses to observe you more closely. He notices how you keep shifting from side to side like you’re uncomfortable, and he realizes that your shoes must be making standing like this quite difficult. He has to resist the urge to wrap his arm around you and tell you to lean on him for support, or better yet, take you into his arms so he can hold you, letting you relax while also showing you how he can care for you. However, he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

Letting out a long breath, you allow your eyes to wander around the area as the auction begins. Your eyes catch movement off to the side, thinking it unusual for someone to be ducking low through the crowd, almost as if they do not wish to be seen.

Your eyes widen slightly as you see the figure draw a small metallic object from their side. Without waiting, you nudge Ten beside you, motioning to the figure off to the side with your head, soon doing the same with Taemin who already seems to have his gaze locked on the mysterious figure.

Moving swiftly, they both stand to guard you, Taemin taking the front while Ten takes the rear. Just in time, too, for in the next moment, a scream is heard from the side of the room, the crowd parting to reveal a security guard on the floor with a knife sticking out of his neck. 

The stranger soon moves quickly towards the front of the room where your parents are. The figure draws a gun, but before he can raise it in the air, he’s gunned down by Siwon.

A moment of silence passes over the room, and you’re just about to breathe a sigh of relief when all hell breaks loose.

Many people standing in the crowd pull weapons from their clothing, turning either against your parents, or coming to surround you. Many of the others simply attempt to run out of the house in fear, scrambling as people push over each other to escape harms way.

“Why does this not surprise me,” Taemin huffs, hearing Ten grunt in response as they both pull out their respective weapons.

Three men and three women begin to close in on the three of you, setting your heart racing in your chest. You can see both Natasha and Siwon already in combat with a few others, doing what they can to protect your parents as separate guards lead them away to safety. You hope they get out okay.

Taemin is quick to make the first move, firing his gun and managing to kill the man in front of him. The others spring into action immediately following, and you stand tense in between it all.

You have no weapon on you, nor means of escape at the moment. You’re just lucky someone hasn’t shot you yet, but you suppose you have Ten and Taemin to thank for that. They’ve managed to get the group of six down to two, facing off the last one’s still standing.

Bodies surround you, and you can feel yourself becoming lightheaded. You need to get out of here, just as your parents have managed to do.

“Step aside, you’re not the one who has to die,” the female in front of Taemin says, holding her gun pointing at his head as he does the same to her.

“But you do,” he replies, a slight crazed look in his eyes as he fires a quick shot into her skull.

No one threatens you and gets to live. No one.

He turns to check on you in the next second, making sure you’re not hurt, and still breathing. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he looks you over briefly, noticing how Ten is still locked in combat with his final opponent.

Your eyes catch movement on the balcony above you, noticing a sniper taking aim at where you’re standing. Your eyes widen significantly.

“Taemin, look out!” You manage to push the two of you down just in time to avoid the first shot.

“Fuck,” he manages to get out through grit teeth, rolling the two of you over so his body now covers yours since you landed on top of him when you pushed the two of you down.

He manages to jump up in time to take aim and kill the sniper, but not before being grazed by the second bullet.

At this point, Ten has finished off the final attacker and moved over to the two of you. Taemin grasps his side as Ten helps you off of the floor.

“Shit, are you okay?” You worriedly look over Taemin, noticing the blood starting to seep from between his fingers from where he holds his hand over his wound.

“It’s only a scratch,” he assures you, managing to hide his wince in pain. “Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

“We need to get her out of here,” Ten says, the two of them locking eyes and nodding their heads briefly at one another. If there’s one thing they can agree upon, it’s your safety.

Without another word, they begin to guide you over to the exit in which your parents have taken which is hidden behind the staircase. However, before you can enter, a bullet whizzes past your head, making impact with the wall.

Glancing over your shoulder reveals four new figures approaching the three of you, guns raised and ready to shoot.

“Get her out of here, I’ll catch up with you guys,” Taemin says, pushing you behind his back to cover you.

“Right,” Ten nods, grabbing your arm and practically dragging you to the hidden exit.

“But you’re injured!” You see Taemin briefly glance at you from over his shoulder. His heart warms knowing you care about him.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you, a subtle grin pulling at the corner of his lips as he hears the worry in your voice. “Now go! I’ll be right behind you.”

Without waiting for you to respond, Ten drags you down the hallway of the exit, grabbing your hand in his as he runs down the hall. Your shoes manage to get kicked off, for which you’re grateful for as you continue to run down the passage which leads to the secret garage.

Bursting through the door, Ten immediately leads you over to one of the cars. Opening the back door for you, he motions for you to get in quickly. You shoot him a worried look, glancing back to the now closed door which you’ve just come through.

“He’ll be fine,” he reassures you. “Now, let’s go, we need to get you out of here.”

You simply nod your head in response, shuffling into the back seat. Once you’re seated inside the car, Ten quickly closes the back door in order to jump into the drivers seat in the next moment.

Flipping down the visor, the keys fall into his lap. Moving quickly, he puts the keys into the ignition, starts the engine, and practically tears out of the garage. You grip the seat anxiously, feeling as if your heart is about to burst through your chest at any moment given how hard it’s beating.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, you manage to calm yourself down enough to speak.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, and you can see his eyes glance at your figure from the rearview mirror.

“To a safe house,” he replies, eyes flicking back to the empty road in front of him.

“What about my parents? And Taemin?” You shift slightly, brow creasing in worry.

“They’ll be fine. Your parents have their own agreed upon safe house, and you have your own. Taemin will contact me when he can, and so will either Siwon or Natasha,” he explains, and you find yourself only relaxing slightly. You can tell that you’re still very on edge, Ten’s words not comforting you as much as you want them to.

“What is this safe house, and how come I’ve never been told of it before?” You look up to meet his gaze in the rearview mirror for a moment before he’s shifting his gaze back on the road once more.

“It’s mine and Taemin’s old house which we agreed upon to use with your parents when we were first hired, if a situation like this ever arose,” Ten goes on to say, and you nod your head slightly, moving to rest your forehead against the cool glass of the window.

“I just hope they’re all okay,” you mumble, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

His heart pangs in his chest, hearing how small your voice sounds at the moment. “They will be. I’m sure of it.”

Nothing else is spoken between the two of you for the rest of the car ride, and before you know it, Ten cuts the engine. It feels like you’ve been driving for hours, but you’re pretty sure that’s only because of how wound up you currently are, and Ten making sure the two of you aren’t being followed.

Stepping out of the car, you wince slightly. Looking down reveals a gravel driveway, the small rocks digging into the skin of your bare feet.

Ten follows your gaze, noticing how you’ve lost your shoes. The corner of his lips twitch as he moves beside you, helping to support you weight as the two of you walk to the door.

Unlocking the front door, Ten is the first to enter, flicking on the lights as you shuffle in behind him. Once you’re inside, he closes the door behind you, locking it as soon as it shuts.

Taking this time now, you look around the entranceway of the house. A small smile pulls at your features as you take in small photos lining the walls, and little trinkets on the hallway table. It’s simple, but nice.

The house is located surrounded by a few hills, a forest to the front while a cliff dropping off to the ocean resides at the back. It’s a simple one story house, but it’s bigger than it looks. One thing that’s most surprising though, is how clean everything looks.

“Nice place you have here,” you comment, moving slowly through the hallway as you take in everything around you.

“Thanks,” Ten hums, slipping off his shoes and following you down the hall.

“I’m honestly shocked at how clean it is,” you say, and you can hear him chuckle.

“We have an old friend of ours look after out place while we’re gone,” he tells you, leaning on the side of the wall as he watches you now stare out the back windows. “He’s the only one we trust to do so.”

“That’s nice,” you shoot him a small, forced smile over your shoulder, and he can feel his lips tug downwards. 

He can tell you’re still very worried about everything that has happened tonight, and whether or not your parents are okay. In the back of his mind, he hopes that worry doesn’t extend too much to his brother.

“Here, I’ll see if I can find something for you to change into,” he says, pushing himself off of the wall and heading towards his bedroom.

From the soft footfalls of your feet behind him, he can tell you’re following him. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest as you nervously chew on your bottom lip, worry clouding your mind.

Entering his room, you immediately sit on his bed, eyes following his movements without fully registering his presence. It’s only when you feel the bed dip beside you, as well as a gentle hand being placed upon your shoulder, do you jolt, startled out of your thoughts by the sudden touch.

“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, concern evident on his features.

“I will be once I have some answers,” you sigh, rubbing the side of your head.

“I’ve laid out some clothes for you,” he says, motioning beside him on the bed with his head where an old pair of sweatpants and t-shirt lay. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

He shoots you one final look before standing up, and going to leave you alone in his room. You notice him grabbing a separate change of clothes before he slips out the door, closing it softly behind him. Once he’s gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’ve been holding.

Looking down at your hands in your lap, you curl and uncurl your fingers a few times to calm yourself. Standing up, you think over the events of the night once more, anxiety eating away at your nerves.

For starters, you do not have your phone on you, so you have no way of checking social media or news outlets, nor do you have a way of contacting anybody. You’re now in an unfamiliar area, despite it being a safe house for you in times like these. Taemin has been shot, and you don’t know if he’s actually gotten out alive. Not to mention the fact that you don’t even know if your parents have gotten out alive.

At this point, all you can do is wait for an answer, and hope for the best.

Releasing another breath, you move over to the dresser, deciding it would be a good idea to let your hair down for starters. Taking a look at your reflection, you notice your makeup slightly smudged from the events of the night.

Moving over to the bed, you grab the change of clothes left for you, soon moving over to the adjacent bathroom attached to Ten’s room. He won’t mind you having a quick shower, hopefully. Besides, you want to wash your makeup off. You’re just hoping you don’t turn into a raccoon from your mascara.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re stepping out of the shower. The warm water helped to relax your muscles slightly, and wash away some of the worry on your mind. Changing quickly, you decide you’re too warm for pants at the moment. Luckily, the shirt he’s given you is quite large, managing to cover all the important bits.

Folding your dress nicely, you place it on the dresser once you’re finished. The last thing you want is for it to wrinkle considering how nice the material is. 

You spare a glance at yourself in the mirror one final time, grateful that you’ve managed to avoid looking like a racoon after washing off your makeup. Taking a deep breath, you exit the room.

Making your way back to the living room, you hear the faint sounds of the television drifting down the hall. From the sounds of it, you can tell Ten is watching the news as the anchor reports on the turn of events this evening at your parent’s charity auction.

Hearing movement, Ten glances over to the entrance of the living room, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in your appearance. Shamelessly, he allows his gaze to trail your body, taking in the sight of your bare legs as you stand in nothing but his shirt. His whole body feels like an electrical current is running through him at the moment, feeling himself become warm.

Noticing his gaze, you shuffle on your feet briefly before moving to sit beside him on the couch. “I hope you don’t mind that I took a shower.”

“No,” he takes a deep breath in, and fuck, you smell like him now. He clears his throat, “not at all.”

“Any updates?” You ask, curling your legs beside you on the couch as you focus your attention on the screen in front of you. Ten has yet to stop staring at you.

“Yeah, Siwon called about ten minutes ago. Your parents are both fine,” he sees you visually relax, shoulders dropping in relief as you let out a sigh of relief. “Looks like the special ops forces were able to make it in time to catch the leader behind the attacks as well.”

“Who was it?” You eyebrow quirks, now turning your full attention to him.

“Just some underground, rich, drug lord,” Ten shrugs casually. “I think his name was Donnie Yu.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” you smile weakly. You have a feeling your troubles have only just begun.

“Yeah, you might not need me anymore after tonight,” Ten jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, but you can sense the hint of seriousness in his voice. He almost sounds disappointed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you shoot him a smirk, nudging him playfully on his thigh with one of your feet, allowing your leg to rest over his soon after. From the way he drapes his arm over your skin, you know he doesn’t mind. “Speaking of, how’s Taemin? Any news on him?”

You feel him tense slightly beneath you, looking at you from the corner of his eyes as his expression drops slightly.

“He’s fine,” comes his short reply, only continuing after the look you send his way. “He called shortly after Siwon did. Said he’s at the hospital getting his wound sorted out, though he said he wanted to get here as soon as he can.”

“He should rest,” you answer, running a hand through your damp locks slightly.

“That’s what I told him, too,” Ten huffs, nearly rolling his eyes as he recalls his brother’s words. “He told me he was worried about you.”

“That’s… sweet of him,” the corner of your lips twitch upwards.

“He said the hospital wants to keep him overnight for observation, so he should be here sometime within the morning,” he replies, doing his best to ignore the fact that even when he’s not here, Taemin still has some sort of effect on you.

You simply nod your head in response, moving to rest your chin in the palm of your hand in the next moment while leaning your elbow on the arm of the couch. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, and you notice how Ten begins to rub his thumb gently against the skin of your leg, sending a small shiver up your spine. He smiles slightly.

As the news continues to cover the events of the night, Ten notices you shifting slightly in discomfort beside him. Grabbing the remote, he opts to change the channel. Anything to get your mind off of things.

“Thanks,” he hears you mumble after a moment, causing him to hum. “I don’t know if I could handle reliving that again.”

“I understand,” he squeezes your leg softly. “Those kinds of moments can be difficult to process, and considering what you’ve already been through, you’re taking things surprisingly very well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You lock gazes with him, eyebrow quirked in question.

“What I mean is, you’re stronger than you think you are, and I admire you for that,” he admits, another small smile gracing his features. “You’re not all you appear to be.”

“Oh,” you breathe, looking down at the floor in slight embarrassment. You’re not expecting this to come from him, but it warms your heart nonetheless. “Thanks.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” his face becomes serious in the next moment, taking you slightly aback. “You don’t know how scared I was tonight.”

“Scared?” Your brow furrows.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” looking into his eyes, your own widen slightly seeing the serious look in them.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you tease, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

“Who says I want to?” He smirks, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

Nothing is spoken between the two of you for a moment. Instead, the two of you opt to stare into each other’s eyes. You can sense the mood between the two of you has shifted, the noise from the television becoming drowned out in the background.

At this point, the two of you have sat up slightly, subconsciously shifting closer to each other. Ten has yet to move his touch from your leg, his hand itching to feel more of your skin beneath him. You look so beautiful like this, and now there’s no one here to interrupt you.

Your lips part slightly, and you notice his gaze flicker down to them. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, heart racing in his chest as his thoughts run wild. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, especially not after the evening you’ve had, but he wants you. He needs you.

Just as he begins to lean in, you manage to blink a few times, clearing your head and pulling away slightly. You want this too, but you don’t know if you’re making the right choice. 

You’ve been getting the impression that Ten cares for you, in more than a client sort of way, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. If this truly is the end, and you don’t need him anymore for your protection, does he view taking you to bed as a reward for his service? You don’t know, and you don’t really want to suffer through that heartache. You’ve already lost enough as it is.

You clear your throat, successfully pulling him out of his trance and causing him to look at you with mild concern on his features. Is he reading the situation wrong?

“I think I’m going to go to bed now,” your voice comes out as a whisper, but he still manages to hear.

“You can take my room, I’ll sleep on the couch,” he almost sighs, heart clenching in his chest as he leans back slightly. He’s so close to having you all to himself. So close.

You don’t respond, simply opting to nod your head instead. You need to get out of there before you do something you’ll regret.

Sliding your one leg off of his lap, you stand from the couch. Moving slowly, you exit the living room, eyes holding a specific type of sorrow for not being able to take what you want. You don’t want your status to be used as another notch on somebody’s belt.

The whole time, Ten follows your movements with his gaze until he can no longer see you. His breathing begins to deepen as he catches a glance at the sorrow in your eyes as you turned to leave the room. He knows what you’re thinking, and like hell is he going to let you slip through his fingertips like this. Not when he has you all to himself, and most certainly not when you want him just as badly and he wants you.

Pushing himself off of the couch, his thoughts begin to swirl with desire and desperation for you, and only you. He cares too much for you to not show you exactly how he feels, and how well you deserve to be treated. Determination flashes in his eyes, along with something else, but it disappears as quickly as it comes.

You make it about halfway down the hall when you feel yourself get grabbed by your shoulder, and pushed into the wall. Your eyes widen as you see the dark look in Ten’s eyes; the lust that swirls deep in his irises.

“Ten, what are you-“

You don’t even get the chance to finish your sentence before he’s smashing his lips to yours, hands coming up to cup the sides of your face as he presses himself into you. Your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily, hands frozen at your sides as he pulls away briefly to stare into your eyes once more.

“Like I said,” he says, his voice a few tones deeper than before, “I’m not letting you go so easily.”

With that, he reattaches his lips to yours briefly before trailing his lips along the side of your jaw, nipping at your skin. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him bite down lightly on your neck, your eyes falling shut in bliss.

“Just tell me to stop and I will,” he mumbles against your skin. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll leave you be.”

“Ten,” the way you nearly whimper his name sends a shiver up his spine, feeling you wrap your arms around him to tangle your fingers in his hair. “I do want this, fuck, I really do, but-“

“But nothing, darling,” he cuts you off, leaning his forehead against your own. “Those others before me, they never deserved you. I want you. Not the president’s daughter. Not anyone else. Just you.”

His words cause you to inhale a sharply. Your heart flutters in your chest at how sincere he sounds, him being able to sooth your worries with every word that is spoken. 

“Even if it’s just for one night, please,” he nearly begs, “let me have you. Let me worship you the way you deserve.”

His hands now drop to your sides as he falls to his knees before you, looking up at you with such admiration and want. Your head begins to spin as you barely manage to nod your consent, one hand coming to tangle itself in his hair as he smirks up at you.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve just made me, baby girl,” he hums, pressing his face into your stomach as his hands begin to run up the sides of your thighs. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Then what are you waiting for,” you smirk down at him, your persona immediately flipping, only serving to turn him on further as his eyes darken even more.

“Nothing,” he hums, pushing your thighs apart slightly as you lean back into the wall.

Bringing his hands up, he allows them to slip underneath the material of your shirt, feeling your skin beneath them and biting his lip as he feels you shiver beneath his touch. He takes this opportunity to trail his lips over every inch of your skin bared to him, leaving small nips here and there on the insides of your thighs.

He takes his time, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties as he drags them down your legs, tossing them to the side once he’s gotten them off of you. He locks eyes with you, placing your one leg over his shoulder as he breathes in your scent deeply. He can’t help but let his eyes fall shut in bliss as he turns his head to bite a mark into your thigh. You smell amazing, and all his.

Feeling you fingers tighten their hold in his hair, he smirks. Deciding to give you what you want, he turns back to face your aching entrance, seeing your lips twitch in anticipation. Flicking his tongue out, he gently grazes your clit, making sure to keep eye contact with you, and not wanting to miss a single reaction you give him.

The gasp you offer him is like music to his ears, and he can hardly wait to elicit more sounds from those gorgeous lips of yours tonight. He’ll take everything you have to offer him, and more.

Diving back in, he licks a strip from your entrance all the way to your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth as he watches you throw your head back in bliss. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs as he circles his tongue over your clit, bringing it back down to collect the sweet nectar that drips from your core.

He can’t help but hum at the taste of you on his lips, allowing his eyes to fall shut once more. This all he’s ever dreamed of, and more. He could never get tired of this, of you.

“Fuck, darling, you taste so good,” he hums against your core, causing a moan to escape your lips, grinding down slightly on his face.

Bringing his tongue back to your entrance, he begins to thrust it into you, feeling your walls clench around him. He feels you starting to move rhythmically against his tongue as he circles your clit once more, loving how you begin to fuck yourself on his face.

By now, your juices are running down his chin, his hands pulling you as close to him as possible. Unfiltered moans of his name slip past your lips, and he swears something within him has finally snapped. Seeing you like this, and hearing you call out for no one but him drives him insane.

Picking up the pace, he can tell you’re getting closer to the edge. He continues to eat you out like you’re his last meal, wanting to see you fall apart for him, and only him.

With a loud cry of his name, your back is arching off the wall, legs trembling as you come. He swears there’s no sight more beautiful, nor sound as sweet, and he wants to experience this again, and again, and again.

He’s so glad that he gets to experience you like this, that he nearly growls at the thought of his brother having gotten to you before he could, and in that moment, he makes a vow to himself. You’re his, not his brother’s. His brother will never have the joy of knowing what you look like when you come for him, of having you sigh his name in pleasure. No, Ten won’t allow it. After tonight, he’ll never let another have you like this, ever again.

Pulling away from you, he licks his lips. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and he smirks to himself seeing how your legs still shake slightly as he sets you back on your own two feet. 

Slowly standing back up, he’s painfully aware of how hard he’s become, feeling himself strain against the material of his pants. He takes a moment to take in the sight of you, still in his shirt, a panting mess from the orgasm he’s just given you. He swears you’ve never looked more perfect than in this moment.

He feels your hands sneak beneath the material of his shirt, taking the hint and removing it in the next second. This time, a shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your hands trailing over his skin. He attaches his lips to yours once more, thumbs gently brushing over your erect nipples through his shirt.

A small moan escapes past your lips as you feel him grind himself into you, feeling how hard he’s become. Your arms sneak around his back, pulling him even closer as he deepens the kiss, a low groan sounding in his chest.

Breaking away from his lips, you allow your own to travel down his neck, sucking marks of your own into his skin, and eliciting small whines from his lips. He tilts his head back in bliss as he feels you bite down on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, pride filling his chest as you mark him as yours.

Feeling his hands trail underneath your shirt, you move to take it off, but he stops you.

“No, leave it on,” he growls, nails biting into the skin of your hips. Seeing you in his own shirt ignites a possessive spark in him, loving the fact that you’re covered in nothing but him tonight.

He bites his lip as he sees you nod out of the corner of his eyes, feeling your hands beginning to fiddle with the waistline of his pants. Your fingers hook at the top, sliding the material down his legs until he can kick it off and to the side. A low groan escapes his lips as he feels you wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a few times before lining his tip up with your entrance.

Through his haze of lust, he manages to remember something, grabbing your wrist to halt your movements.

“Wha-“ he cuts you off with a brief kiss to your lips, moving to pull away from you in the next second, but you stop him, seemingly reading his thoughts. “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

“Shit,” he barely gets out through gritted teeth as you reposition him at your entrance.

Ever so slowly, he begins to enter you. He can hear his heartbeat racing in his ears and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head at the feeling of you fully wrapped around him. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the feeling of your warm walls pulsing around him, fitting him so perfectly. Almost as if you’re made for him.

Resting his arms beside you on the wall, he buried his face into the side of your neck. He needs to take a moment to catch his breath, and once he’s calmed down enough, he feels your own arms wrap around his back, nails biting into the skin of his shoulders.

Testing the waters, he give a shallow roll of his hips into yours, loving the way your head tilts back, allowing him better access to your neck. You seem to read his mind, for in the next moment, your one leg comes to wrap around his waist as his hand grips the skin of your thigh tightly. He pulls you closer as he pushes you harder into the wall, wanting to feel all of you pressed up against him.

He sets a slow pace to start, making sure to hit deep with every thrust. Your sounds serve to edge him on, small growls of your own name slipping past his lips as he succumbs to the feeling of all of you pressed against him.

“Fuck,” he moans, hearing your breath hitch as he hits a certain spot within you. “You take my cock so well, baby girl.”

A low groan of his name is all he receives in response from you, smirk pulling at his lips as he begins to pick up the pace, feeling you tighten your hold around him. He loves the effect he’s having on you, and knowing that he’s the only one able to do this sets his head spinning.

“Right there, fuck,” you whimper right in his ear, and he can feel his cock twitch in excitement.

He can feel you getting closer to the edge for the second time that night as he starts to pound into you. The way your walls are squeezing him so tightly has another moan of your name slipping past his lips. He never wants this moment to end.

Your whimpers of his name are starting to become more frequent, feeling the coil in your stomach tightening once more as you near your peak. You nearly scream once you feel his free hand reach in between your bodies to flick at your clit.

He locks gazes with you, and the almost primal look in his eyes is the final push that sends you tumbling over the edge and into your second orgasm of the night. Your scream gets lodged in your throat as you lean forward, biting into the skin of his shoulder as pleasure shoots through every nerve of your body.

“That’s it, baby, let go,” he praises, feeling himself following you over the edge as he comes within you, burying himself as deep as he possibly can, “just like that, fuck.”

Nothing is heard besides the sounds of your panting, breaths mingling together as you both come down from your highs. You release the hold your teeth have on his shoulder, legs shaking as he sets you back onto your own two feet. 

Resting his forehead against yours once more, he looks deep into your eyes, “you’re amazing.”

His words have a small heat rising to your cheeks as you shoot a small grin his way. You allow yourself to relax as he pulls out of you, feeling his seed spill out of you and begin to drip down your thighs.

“So much for my shower,” you giggle, and he smiles at you, feeling his stomach flip at the sound of your laughter.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to his room.

After a warm bath together, the two of you head to bed, with you falling asleep wrapped in Ten’s arms. He smiles down at you, gently brushing your hair back from your face before leaning down and placing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

His heart swell in his chest, one constant thought repeating itself over and over in his head until he’s able to drift off to sleep. Mine.

Ten wakes up the next morning earlier than you, but he doesn’t mind. Sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow over your skin and making him smile. You look so peaceful like this, and he couldn’t be happier. He can still hardly believe the events of last night.

Reluctantly, he gets out of bed, deciding to make you both something for breakfast. He runs a hand through his hair, searching around his room quietly for a pair of sweatpants to slip on. Once he find them, he slips out of his room, gently closing the door halfway so as not to disturb you.

Walking down the hall, he notices both of your discarded clothes from last night. Smirking to himself, he decides to clean those up later. After all, it’s just proof that what you did last night actually happened, and wasn’t some made up fantasy his mind conjured up.

Making it to the kitchen, he begins to hum a small tune to himself as he prepares the food. Nothing could make him happier than he is in this moment in time, knowing that you’re his now, and he’s yours.

Meanwhile, the sound of an engine cutting out comes from outside. In the next moment, Taemin steps out of the car, letting out a sigh as he sees his familiar home. All he wants to do is get inside, check on you to make sure you’re okay, and then maybe sleep for a few hours. He’s been on edge ever since last night, and he needs to see your comforting face in order to know everything will be alright.

Stepping through the door, Taemin tosses his jacket to the side, sliding off his shoes in the next moment. Making his way towards the kitchen, he can smell the faint aroma of food cooking. In the back of his mind, he hopes it’s you that’s cooking for him, something he would have no problem getting used to.

Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of his shirtless brother, standing in front of the stove as he cooks something, you nowhere in sight. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Taemin focusses on the red scratch marks lining his brother’s back, and his jaw clenches. Looking to his side, and down the hall, confirms his suspicions, seeing his brother’s clothes scattered on the floor, as well as a pair of panties laying close by. Through the crack in Ten’s door, Taemin spots you curled up in his bed, blissfully unaware to the storm brewing just outside.

Taemin’s anger flares. “What did you do?”

Ten turns around, and it’s at this point that Taemin spots the bright red bite mark displayed proudly on his brother’s shoulder, setting his own blood boiling. That should be him covered in your marks, not Ten.

“Oh, hello there, brother,” Ten smirks, turning off the stove and turning around to see Taemin standing tense in the entranceway to the kitchen.

“How dare you,” Taemin seethes, eyes narrowing as he takes a threatening step towards Ten.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ten feigns innocence, knowing that this will only serve to make his brother even more furious than he already is.

“How dare you touch her,” Taemin’s voice is low, dripping with venom as he feels white hot fury coursing through his veins.

“Well, you weren’t here,” Ten smirks, staring his brother down with a malicious look in his eyes, “and considering how things went, she couldn’t get enough.”

Taemin can feel something within himself snap. He’s supposed to have you, not Ten. You’re his, and if he can’t have you, no one can.

Pulling out his gun, Taemin aims right at Ten’s head, “give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now for touching what’s mine.”

“Now, now, brother,” Ten’s grin only widens as he shifts slightly, hand resting on the counter behind him as he feels the handle of the knife against his fingertips. “There’s no need for violence. Haven’t we seen enough?”

“After all this death, what’s one more life?” Taemin tilts his head slightly, almost mockingly.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ten replies, voice full of malice as he grips the handle of the knife firmly in his hands.

In the next moment, the two of them spring into action, Ten whipping the knife at Taemin, causing him to move out of the way just in time as the knife gets imbedded in the wall. Ten uses this opportunity as Taemin’s gun is lowered to rush over, kicking the gun out of his brother’s hand.

Taemin manages to land a hit against Ten’s side, only to receive a kick to the leg in return. The two men are now caught in a battle back and forth for a good minute before Ten sees an opening, going to attack Taemin’s injury.

Striking quickly, Ten hits Taemin’s bullet wound, causing him to cry out in pain. Using the opening that this has created for him, Ten grabs Taemin, flipping him over and slamming him into the kitchen table.

The loud sound of something breaking jolts you out of your sleep. Rubbing your eyes slightly, you hear the faint sounds of grunts coming from the direction of the kitchen. Furrowing your brow slightly in confusion, you toss the covers off of your body, and begin making your way cautiously out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

The sight that greets you has your eyes widening in shock. A knife is embedded in the wall near you, while the kitchen table is smashed to pieces. However, that’s not what’s most surprising.

Taemin has Ten pinned against the opposite wall, gun poised right at his head as both their chests heave. You faintly notice a dark red stain slowly spreading on the side of Taemin’s shirt that he must have gotten from the hospital last night, meaning his wound has been reopened.

“You’ve forsaken me for the last time, brother,” Taemin spits, and you take this time to shake your head, pulling yourself out of your temporary frozen state.

“What, the ever-loving fuck, is going on?” You nearly screech, eyes wide as you stare at the two men before you.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure he’ll never be able to touch you again,” Taemin says from over his shoulder, and due to the angle you’re standing at, you fail to miss the crazed look in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Your voice holds nothing but pure disbelief.

“How can you be so sure she even wants you?” Ten says, calm despite the situation he’s in at the moment.

“How can you?” Taemin counters, jaw setting in a firm line.

“I think the events of last night are pretty self explanatory, don’t you?” Ten quirks a brow, almost mockingly. “Can I just say, she tastes divine.”

Taemin cocks his gun, moving to press the barrel right against Ten’s forehead, eyes vicious. “Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”

Even though you know Ten’s words are only to provoke Taemin, you can’t keep your eyes from widening. This is all too sudden for you, especially after the events of last night. You thought you were finally safe. You thought you were free.

“What the fuck is going on here?” You repeat your question, locking eyes with Ten as he simply smirks.

“You see, darling,” the gun is pressed harder into his head, “we seem to have both taken a particular interest in you, and now we both want you to ourselves. In our line of work, sharing isn’t really apart of our vocabulary when we want something, and what we want, is you.”

“Do you really think you’re the better option for her?” Taemin growls out. “I can give her everything she’s ever wanted, and so much more. Protect her. Cherish her. Love her.”

“Is that so?” Ten shifts his gaze over to his brother, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. “Then why don’t we let her choose.”

“What?” Once again, you’re taken aback by his words.

Taking a step back, Taemin relaxes his shoulders slightly, while Ten lets out a small breath in relief. Both of them are confident you’ll pick them in the end, knowing that whoever you choose, the other will kill in an instant. They’ll make sure they’re the only ones that can have you.

“Go ahead,” Ten locks eyes with you once more, “choose.”

“What are you talking about, you can’t make me choose-“

“You can, and you will,” Ten’s hard voice cuts you off, continuing to stare you down as a chill runs down your spine.

“So who’s it going to be, Princess? Him,” Taemin nods his head briefly in his brother’s direction, narrowing his eyes as they lock with yours, “or me?”

[simply-zhouye]

Entering the rivers and lakes for the first time, brutal heart丨Interview with Zhou Ye

Zhou Ye’s first full length interview with Sohu’s 骨朵星番 Gu Duo Xing Fan is out! She talks about her character Gu Xiang in-depth, working with her costars Gong Jun plus how she’s handling netizens feedback about her acting. [Rough translation] Spoilers ahead for her character’s history & future ~

https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/fQphUwOd9ATrIV8QXXv6DQ  #山河令 #wordofhonor

"Savage Sniper Little Witch", Zhou Ye replaced with this as her Weibo signature when "Shanhe Ling" was broadcasted.

This is Gu Xiang’s character in the play. She and "Please call me Philanthropist Wen" Wen Kexing, "Chief Editor 裸辞 事业 " Zhou Zishu, and "Optimism Researcher" Cao Weining and other actors collectively entertained and opened a happy atmosphere. Overflowing the screen.

However, the little witch Gu Xiang is a somewhat tragic character. Her destiny and feelings affect the hearts of the audience, so that when netizens find clues from the screenwriter that Gu Xiang and Cao Weining may be happy ending for the CP pair, celebrating in advance, it can be seen how attractive this girl in purple clothes and holding a long whip is, and she likes it to the point that "the audience has already begun to feel unhappy before saying goodbye."

This is not unexpected. Quite a few actors in the world leave some mark in the audience’s brains and hearts when they “pass”, deep or shallow. Those spiritual marks are often called “impressions”, and Zhou Ye’s especially, the scratches she left on people are deeper.

This may be due to the characteristics of her character, clear loves and hates, or complex and multi-faceted, or from her pure and awe-inspiring face under the lens, which is unforgettable, but it is certain that people have seen it in Zhou Ye. Something, what is that thing?

 When we don’t know how to explain the “goodness” of an actor, we often add the word talent to it, but Zhou Ye doesn’t think she belongs to this type of actor. She said, “I think I’m a little bit of an acquired taste.”

01 First entry into the arena

This is Zhou Ye's first time filming a costume drama.

Some people say that there are "walls" between ancient costume dramas and modern dramas, and the moment Zhou Ye decided to take over the role in "Shanhe Ling" was the beginning of Zhou Ye's breaking of the wall. 

"When I read the script, I thought it was a very good story. It told a series of stories from the rivers and lakes at the time, including the fact that I actually liked the role of Gu Xiang. She was eccentric, dare to love and hate, and had her own shining point."

Zhou Ye's love for "Shanhe Ling" is beyond words. A few hours before the show went live, she wrote a small essay on Weibo to interpret the Gu Xiang in her eyes. In an interview with Gu Duo, Zhou Ye missed that unforgettable environment. "It’s actually very happy to be on the shooting scene. Gong Jun sings in the dressing room every day , and everyone often chats together."

More under cut. Spoilers ahead.

However, playing Gu Xiang is not without pressure. For the first time in ancient costumes, Zhou Ye didn't know what kind of state the costumes should be, and she didn't know if she could play this role well.

"She has a miserable life experience. She had no parents since she was a child, and was later taken in by Wen Kexing. Although A-Xiang is from Guigu (Ghost Valley), she is not bad in the full sense. She has some things from Guigu, but she is very naive. For example, she has rescued two people, the first time was to rescue two girls from the hands of the jealous ghost, the second time was to save the singing girl when she met Cao Weining in a tavern.

When Gu Xiang saved people for the first time, Wen Kexing mentioned that the dog she raised when she was a child was stewed and eaten, and she cried for three full months, as a reminder: If saving people is irresponsible to the end, It's better to give it a pass.

"Gu Xiang agreed, because she is particularly eager to have companions and sisters. The multi-faceted character of Gu Xiang is very attractive to me."

In the play, Gu Xiang followed Wen Kexing from Guigu to the "world". She felt that the people she met after leaving Guigu were stupid, but she also said that "Wen Kexing next to Zhou Zishu feels is like a person." However, the "different paths between people and ghosts" laid the tragic tone for the master and servant to walk through the world, just like the implied meaning of the names of Wen Kexing and Gu Xiang, "the hometown of mourning for the guest."

In Zhou Ye's eyes, Gu Xiang and Wen Kexing have a feeling of being dependent on each other. 

"Wen Kexing is like her brother and her father, because Gu Xiang was saved by Wen Kexing since childhood, so her broken mouth and her violent temper were actually learned from Wen Kexing. The guest line said, "Gu Xiang is the only living thing around him."

When Zhou Ye talked about the relationship between Gu Xiang and Wen Kexing, she seemed to have re-entered the role, and everything was vividly visible.

02 "The people I play are not very like me"

"Have you seen the eyes of wild animals?" When the policeman played by Yin Fang uttered this line to Wei Lai, a bullying girl played by Zhou Ye, in "Better Days", Wei Lai's eyes were pure and chilling.

That was the first time Zhou Ye entered the public eye. With her outstanding performance in this film, Zhou Ye was nominated for the 33rd Chinese Film Golden Rooster Award for Best Supporting Actress, and also received a lot of support from netizens. "Sister Wei in society, there are not many people who are ruthless", "This damn bad woman is so sweet" , there is no lack of pampering in the words.

Actors who have portrayed villains often have an annoyance, that is, if they act well, the audience will hate the actor if they are too deep into the play, and it will be difficult to transform in a short time. But for the newcomer Zhou Ye, the audience is uncharacteristically "double standard". They are afraid of Wei Lai, but like Zhou Ye.

As a newcomer actor who has just entered the industry, Zhou Ye admitted that when facing the camera, she was actually a bit "fearful". Whether it was when the director shouted at the beginning or when working with seniors, she would be a little nervous, but she couldn't take this fear away. Show it. 

"Because Wei Lai herself is an aura and relatively calm person, so of course the Wei Lai you look like will not show your fearful side in front of your eyes."

"Then are you a calm person?"

"I am more in line with the stubbornness of the Taurus. I am more stubborn. Calmness still depends on the situation. I am not particularly calm." Zhou Ye paused for a while and continued, "It seems that my role is not very close to myself. Wei Lai is very close to me unlike Gu Xiang. She is a little girl who has lived in a particularly bad environment since she was a child. Lin Huajun of "Our Southwest Associated University" is a schoolmaster, but she is a talented girl from Peking University, and Tang Susu in "Ah Cradle" in fact, is not too different from Gu Xiang’s character."

The reporter tried to get Zhou Ye to summarize herself in four words. She only thought of two words- "stubborn and delicious", and then she added herself in the eyes of the staff, "They said I was hardworking and well-behaved." It's too early for a girl who is new to campus to analyze herself. It is far from the time to analyze and summarize. Everything has just begun.

Last week, she just graduated from the Beijing Film Academy. She spent six yuan to get the graduation certificate photo and happily shared the joy of "saving money" with netizens. 

"At that time, it was a rather unexpected result to be admitted to the film school. Later, when I was in school, I found acting was more and more interesting, and then I embarked on this road. I didn't really have a long experience as an actor. I started an internship when I was almost a senior. I took the stage slowly, and didn't make many films."

03 The life she loves and understands

Regarding "professionalism", Zhou Ye expressed that he is a person who "takes one step at a time and sees another step."

Although she is not the main protagonist in the broadcast of "Youth in the Young / Better Days" and "Shanhe Ling / Word of Honor", she feels that "the protagonist and the supporting role are no different, they are all a role, and each role will have its own shining point. With her own story, I will definitely play a supporting role in the future. If I have to have any small goals, it is to play every role well.” Zhou Ye seriously emphasized the matter of “playing every role well”.

"Then what do you think is the standard for acting well?"

 "Then it depends on the reactions of the seniors who filmed with me, the feedback from the director, and the feedback from the audience."

When "Shanhe Ling" first aired, some viewers responded that they were not comfortable with the "not cold" Zhou Ye played by Gu Xiang, but now they love this role more and more. 

"I pay attention to the audience's evaluation and criticism. I think their feedback is reasonable and I will accept it with a humility. As for Wei Lai and Gu Xiang, in fact, each character must be different. I will try a variety of roles and let everyone see a different me ."

This year Zhou Ye is only 23 years old. When answering the question, the tone was a bit childish, but the words spoken were surprisingly peaceful, with a natural sense of transparency. 

She said, "I don't mind the comparison. I think everyone has their own choice. I can't interfere with other people's ideas, so I don't mind what they say. Everyone has the right to express their preferences."

As for the audience who likes her, Zhou Ye said: “Thank you very much to them for liking me so much. I want to make a good film and reward them with more good film and television works. I can’t let them down. In fact, some of the films I’ve filmed have not been broadcast yet. I especially want to see how I am in a different state in different scenes."

During the epidemic, Zhou was not very anxious. She read books at home, played with slimes, and chatted with her mother. 

"Because all the work at that time was pushed back, it was actually quite good, and I could rest at home for a period of time." Zhou Ye entered busy work after the rest.

"The pace of work is actually good now, because you have to adapt if you don't adapt. You are a worker, of course you have to adapt to your job ."

The wish of "Playing Workers" Zhou Ye this year is to take a driver's license, and like all southerners, Chongqing Girls, Zhou Ye also has an obsession-"skiing". 

“I didn’t go skiing when I was in college in Beijing. Now I graduated, and I’m filming in other places every day, skiing is even more impossible. In my impression, I haven’t skied before, but my mother told me that when I was very young, I didn’t go skiing. I went to the Fairy Mountain in Chongqing once and glided there once, but I don’t remember."

"If you were say a few words to your future self, what do you want to say?"

"Filming every day, staying up all night every day, you have to protect your body, and then protect your hair." 

However, Zhou Ye told Gu Duo that he has not yet begun to pay attention to health preservation.

"Because young and capricious."

[dhwty-writes]

A Health Hazard

This took a lot longer to write than it had any right to. The first 1.5k words were written in under 2 hours, the rest in thrice that time. I'm done with today and this prompt. Written for day 3: Reading by the fire/cuddling by the fire of @witcher-and-his-bard‘s winter prompts Have fun!

Summary: Geralt of Rivia is bored. This hasn't happened in forever. Literally. He learns to understand Jaskier's whining a lot better. 

Warnings: none, besides the fact that this is unedited

Read on AO3

All things considered, it had taken a surprisingly short time for the impossible to happen. Apparently, all that it took was three weeks. Three weeks cooped up in Jaskier's generously-sized lodgings in Oxenfurt with nothing to do and lo and behold, Geralt of Rivia was bored. Bored! Could you imagine that?

It hadn't been so bad in the beginning. After five days he finally hadn't felt the need to rise with the sun and had let Jaskier kiss him goodbye, running late for a lecture, while he turned over and slept in. He couldn't remember when he had last done that. Truth be told, he couldn't remember if he'd ever done that.

Certainly not since he'd gotten to Kaer Morhen; there was no slacking in the witchers' keep. He briefly wondered if passing out after a fight and waking up days later could count as sleeping in. Probably not.

No, sleeping in was something for the safe and comfortable, and for the first time since he could think Geralt could count himself among them. All thanks to Jaskier, of course, who did his best to spoil his lover rotten. All on the cost of the Oxenfurt Academy, naturally.

The Academy spared no cost or effort to ensure the comfort of their lecturers—and Jaskier wasn't just any lecturer, he was probably the most popular bard on the continent. Geralt had first realised that Jaskier was rich when he had seen his personal study, stocked with books right up to the ceiling. Most of them were beautiful leather-bound tomes, written by hand with detailed pictures. He had felt a bit faint when discovering that some of them were in the second row.

No matter what Jaskier said about gifts from colleagues and magical innovations called a printing spell, books were immeasurable luxuries. And the bard owned close to a hundred of them. Personally.

Still, Geralt had been hesitant, at first, to make use of the private bath that came with the four-room apartment, or to call upon a servant to fetch him things. That was until Jaskier had told him outright how much they paid him for a single lecture, let alone several of them each day for months. If they were willing to pour that much money down the drain, he couldn't really feel bad about it.

So, the following days and weeks Geralt allowed Jaskier to teach him how to enjoy himself. He learned how to sleep in, indulged in almost daily baths, spent his days reading novels and poems out of Jaskier's personal collection. He didn't protest when the bard ordered too much food. Didn't comment on the overabundance of sweets—he even admitted he liked it. And when Jaskier asked for too exotic spices he only raised his eyebrows.

Once he had even ventured into the extensive Academy library—Geralt had never seen so many books in one place in his entire life—to find a collection of chivalrous legends Jaskier had told him about. He had been welcomed by an overly polite librarian, who had gone ahead to recommend him a dozen other books with the same topic, complete with annotations noting upon all the different possible interpretations. And if that hadn't been enough, he had been offered to take them with him. All of them. At once. As long as he liked. With no credentials but the name "Pankratz". He couldn't fathom how the library hadn't been robbed empty yet. When he had told Jaskier so, he had only laughed and kissed him gently, calling him a silly witcher.

It all had culminated when later that day, after Jaskier had ordered their dinner to be brought up to their rooms, it had been Geralt to stop the servant by the arm and ask for a bottle of wine.

"Right away, sir," the servant had answered. "Do you have any preferences?"

"Umm-" After a quick glance back to Jaskier, who had smiled encouragingly, he had added: "Est Est?"

He had half expected to be reprimanded, but the servant had only looked at him as if that had been obvious. "The year, sir. Do you have any preferences for the year?"

"I hear 1260 was especially good," Jaskier had piped up and that had been the end of that. They had had a very nice evening and an even nicer night, albeit neither of them had gotten a lot of sleep.

The problem was that since then over a week had passed. Geralt had read through all the books he had borrowed and leafed through a number of volumes of Jaskier's personal collection. He wasn't feeling like reading anymore. He had visited several taverns to play Gwent, but that too was interesting only for so long.

He had taken Jaskier up on his offer and accompanied him to a few lectures, but that had grown boring, too. Of course, he could talk about his adventure and the content of the poems, but that wasn't what Jaskier and his students were talking about. Instead, they lead very heated discussions about rhymes and metaphors and what Jaskier called a meter ("It's like a rhythm, Geralt."). But in the end, he didn't care if the rhyme was a pair or not, or if the rhythm was an asbestos or a dromedary or something.

He flopped down on the couch with an uncharacteristically dramatic sigh. Jaskier had returned from his last lecture an hour ago and was now holed up in his study doing... something. As if him being away all day wasn't bad enough, he had to continue working afterwards!

Geralt sat up with a start. Shit, was that how Jaskier felt all year round on the Path? It was a horrifying thought; no wonder the bard was so whiny all the time. Well, Geralt was different. He certainly wouldn't stoop so low. No, he definitely wouldn't whine.

 ~*~

 "Jaskier," Geralt whined from his place on the extra armchair they had acquired the previous day. "Are you done yet?"

The poet mouthed some words along while he frantically scribbled them down on yet another snippet of parchment. "Almost, darling, give me a minute," he muttered absentmindedly just like he had half an hour ago.

Geralt threw his head back and groaned loudly. He was going mad; he was sure of it. It was not normal for people to go such a long time without someone charging at them with swords or claws or dirty underwear. It could not be healthy. "D'you think I should talk to Shani?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jaskier mumbled under his breath, flipping through the hundreds of pages of notes he was keeping.

"Hmm." So Jaskier agreed that boredom was a serious health hazard. He drummed his fingers on the armrest. Maybe he should go do it right away?

He got to his feet and was almost at the door when he halted. No, it was late already, sundown a few hours past. He walked back to the armchair. But maybe-

"Geralt," Jaskier said with a heavy sight and put down his pen. "Love. You're pacing." 

"Really?" The witcher grit out. "Wouldn't have noticed."

"Can you just-" He rubbed at his temples. He looked incredibly tired. "I'm sorry, five more minutes, alright? Then we can do whatever you want, what d'you think of that."

"Hm." Geralt thought that was bullshit and that Jaskier should take a break.

But the poet was too engrossed in his own mind to even hear it.

'Alright then,' he thought and sat back down, arms crossed. 'Five more minutes.' He could manage five minutes of meditation. Easily.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, waiting for the calm to settle over him. What followed were probably the longest five fucking minutes of Geralt's life.

No sooner were they over that his eyes snapped open and he rushed over to his bard, holding him close from behind and nuzzling against his neck.

Jaskier chuckled softly. "Hello there. Five minutes over already?"

"Yes," Geralt said resolutely. "What're you writing anyways?" he asked, trying to peer over his bard's shoulder.

Still scribbling, Jaskier answered: "A novel, dear."

"A novel?" he replied and pulled back a little. "Since when?" Jaskier never wrote novels. Songs and poems, yes, and on one memorable occasion a play, too, but they had both agreed that it was horrid and that he should stick to shorter stuff.

He shrugged and slammed the piece of paper onto one of the piles. Apparently, there was an order to the chaos. "The day before yesterday, I think? Didn't really pay attention."

Geralt snorted. That went without saying. "Please tell me you didn't write all that in-"

Jaskier gasped softly and pulled up another sheet of paper. "Shh, give me a minute, love, else I'll forget this sentence. Oh fuck, this is so good-"

He bared his teeth. "You said-"

"Please, Geralt," Jaskier begged. 'Fuck.' The cursed bardlet knew damn well that he couldn't resist him; not with the pure desperation in his voice.

So, Geralt contented himself with grumbling displeased and pressing his nose against Jaskier's neck, while he waited for the scratching of the quill on paper to finally subside.

Thankfully, it didn't take too long for Jaskier to slam the quill down and forcefully push the paper away. "Done," he declared, exhaustion plain in his voice. "I'm done for today."

He raised his eyebrows. "You sure?"

"Y-yeah. I'm sure." The tiny pause was enough for Geralt to know that, no, Jaskier wasn't done in the slightest. If not for him the poet would probably stay up until the early hours of morning, crafting one masterful line after the other. Until he'd inevitably collapse from the exhaustion, smudging the ink of his uppermost sheet of paper all over his face.

He couldn't fathom how much self-control it cost Jaskier to turn around and ask: "So, what is bothering you so terribly, my beloved witcher?"

Geralt glared at him defiantly. It took him all of three seconds to cave. "I'm bored," he complained and frowned.

The effect was instantaneous and his expression grew soft. "Oh, my dear, I'm terribly sorry."

There was something about Jaskier's voice, something about his touch, about the way he brought Geralt close for a gentle kiss. Something that made him go from wanting to believe his words so badly to actually believing them.

The smile on his bard's face was nothing short of adorable when he asked: "Anything I can do about it?"

"Hm." Well, he could think of quite a few things to bide their time.

Before he could voice any of them, though, Jaskier continued: "Yeah, that's what I thought." He stood up and took his hand. "Come on, Geralt, I'm dead on my feet. Let's get somewhere more comfortable, then we can figure that out."

He gladly let himself be led. As long as it meant spending time with Jaskier, he was hardly about to object. The poet flitted around their apartment, collecting pillows and blankets, while he sent Geralt off to heat the kettle and get them some tea, all the while humming with excess energy.

Not fifteen minutes later Geralt found himself on the floor in front of the fireplace with a lapful of bard who was cursing quietly whenever he sipped his too-hot tea and inevitably burnt his tongue. Geralt couldn't help but smile as he cradled his Jaskier closer to his chest.

"What's your novel about?" he whispered into his ear.

"Oh, it's a romance!" he replied cheerfully.

Geralt pulled back, a horrible thought dawning on him. "Jaskier...," he growled. "Please tell me you're not writing a romance novel about us."

"Well," the poet drawled and Geralt groaned. So that was a yes. "I am not writing about Geralt of Rivia, the witcher, and Jaskier the bard."

"But?"

"But it might be that the two protagonists are a chivalrous monsterslayer and his loyal painter companion."

"Jaskier...," he pleaded even though he knew it was useless.

"What? In my defence, it was you who dragged in the knightly ballads!"

"Hm." That was a shit defence and they both knew it. Unwilling to start an argument, though, he just pulled Jaskier closer against his chest and leaned his forehead against his shoulder. "Tell me more."

And tell him more he did. Thank the gods it was so easy to get Jaskier rambling. He told him about the two protagonists, Eric and Dandelion, who had met shortly after the artist had abandoned the court; he had been living at, to find real inspiration out in the world. He was, apparently, entirely insufferable and a notorious womanizer-

"What?" Geralt interrupted him with a quiet chuckle. "Next you tell me he set out into the world to draw nude portraits of all his lovers."

"Oh no!" He felt Jaskier tense up before even the lament had left his mouth. "Oh, fuck, Geralt, that's brilliant, I-" His mouth snapped shut. His eyes flitted around nervously as he was obviously contemplating what the worse fate was: abandoning his lover or risking the loss of an idea.

Geralt quickly made the decision for him as he opened his arms. "Go on, bard," he said with a soft smile. "Write it down before it's gone again." He had lived with Jaskier long enough to become well acquainted with all of his sorrows.

The smile he got in return was almost worth it. "You're the best, I love you, I'm so sorry," he blabbered, scrambling to his feet. He pecked him on the mouth with a quick: "Be right back."

'No, you won't,' Geralt thought adoringly as he watched him bolt to his desk. "Just bring something to write with when you do!" he called after him and leaned back against the couch. He couldn't quite bring himself to wipe the lopsided grin off his face.

It was going to be a long winter. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

[monsoonblooms12]

Detectives By Chance: Chapter 4- Seeking and Chasing

A/N: Hi, how is everyone doing💫💛? I finally completed the 4th chapter, phew. I am really sorry for the delay, It has been some time ( a month to be precise). But I hope that you enjoy reading this💛. Thank you for all the love that you have given the earlier chapters and I love you all very much 💛

Thank you so very much @ohramsey​ for everything. I love you x infinite and I will miss you so much😭🤍❤

Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?

Pairing: Ethan × f!MC (Dr. Pooja Sharma)

Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters. I only own the OCs and my MC.

Word count: 2.3K 

Triggers: Mentions of blood, murder

For Ethan and Pooja, a mutual day off was once in a blue moon thing. So whenever they had one, they would put the world out of their mind and remain engrossed in each other.

And now, after getting a cherished day off for the first time in at least one and a half months, they were sitting here scrutinizing the clues they had assembled from the crime scene.

They sat down on the couch, opened their laptops and kept auxiliary notebooks with them to note any admissible details they could find. Ethan took the three pieces of paper and stationed them down on the coffee table.

The first one was the third bloody note that Pooja had received.

It said: "Ahh, here you are. I knew, I knew you would come. You bastards are as obstinate as I am. But don't worry, I like it. So, did you like my pretty little portrayal that I had made for you? All this is just a sprinkle of my intuitive plan. The real game hasn't even begun yet. Just wait and be on your guard for my twisties and turnsies."

"Hasn't this person done enough? What the freaking hell does he want?" Pooja said, on the brink of tears. She was literally done with this pathetic game of blood.

Ethan hugged her tightly. "Calm down, Love. It hurts me to see you like this. We will find out everything. We will find this person, and we will make them compensate for their sins. I promise." 

"Ethan, I love you so much. Please be with me ad infinitum." Pooja planted a featherlight kiss on Ethan's cheek. 

"I will, Baby, I will, I love you too," Ethan assured her, while tenderly wiping off her tears. 

"And... you don't have to use fancy terms to tell me to love you forever."

At this, Pooja let out a tee-hee.

After she had calmed down, they looked at the second piece of paper. It was a drug store receipt.

"Propofol?"

"If this is a receipt left-back by the murderer, then why Propofol, did they feel remorseful for Davis? " Pooja scoffed. 

"Remorseful? I sure as hell that's not the case." 

Pooja's question lingered in Ethan's mind. Why would, he thought, the murder make the patient unconscious? So that he doesn't shout?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Poke Poke. Pooja poked at his side, bringing him back to reality.

 "A penny for your thoughts?"

" Just thinking about propofol."

" And what does the mind of the world-class diagnostician say about that?"

" As for now, it says nothing essential."

"But?"

"there is a what if."

"And that is?"

" What if the criminal is right in our plain sight?"

" So, as I understand, you are suggesting that the murder is someone-"

"From the hospital. It would be the easiest for a staff member to do everything, isn't it?"

" Hmmm. Although it is a stab in the dark, it is a pretty commendable reasoning. Good job Mr Mitter."

"Mr what?"

"You don't know Mr. Mitter??!! You need to catch up on your detective knowledge, Ramsey. We need to go on a mystery novel-reading spree, ASAP!"

"Don't you think that's just irrelevant to what we are discussing?"

"Excuse You! How the hell are mysteries irrelevant in a discussion of mysteries?" 

Pooja made a phoney, angry face that made Ethan laugh.

" Okay, so number one you are looking ridiculous with that face and number two maybe, I agree with you, just a little."

"WAIT"

"Did you just... give in and agree with me? The Ethan freaking Ramsey accepted his defeat?"

"How is this def-"

"I will write about this day in golden letters in my autobiography."

"Autobiography?" Ethan was chuckling like an idiot.

"Hey, what do you think? I can't write an autobiography or what?"

"No, no, of course, you can! But I really wanna know if you are going to write about your escapades with Jenner or the sleep-talks you do all night. Or maybe about the variety of chocolate you like."

"ETHAN!"

"Okay Okay, I will stop. Let's look at the third bit of paper." 

The third paper was a visiting card. Or something that looked like visiting card held together with a lot of tape. The name on it was too faded for them to interpret. However, they could make out the address and the designation which, surprisingly, was Dr.

All the lingers of laughter and joy from the previous exchange dispersed and seriousness took its place.

"So, this person is a doctor. Very Peculiar!" Pooja remarked.

"What about all this is not uncommon, Poo? Even if they are a doctor, why target you and Alex? How does this person even know you both?" Ethan said, a tinge of anger lingering in his tone.

Pooja absently fiddled with the card while suddenly something caught her eye. In tiny handwriting, the letters D.I.B.S.15. She presented it to Ethan.

"What is this supposed to mean?"

"It looks like some cryptic message to me. Maybe the murderer wrote it absently on this card. We need to infer its meaning. It can be crucial."

"Hmm. Seems, like we have a lot of investigation to do. But at first, let's note down the enigmas we need to find the answers of."

They grabbed a notebook and wrote down all the lingering inquiries and matters about which they were going to seek.

Who is Mr Davis? Why was he targeted?

Why did no one from his acquaintances never come to question about him?

Why did the murderer target Pooja and Alex? How does he know them?

How was the murder perpetrated?

The addresses

MedMinder Drug Store

D.I.B.S.15

"Ethan?"

"Hmm?"

"Should we call the medical store? They might have vital information about the person who bought their stuff."

"Sure they will, reckoning that the person who bought the stuff is the same as the one who murdered Mr Davis."

"Or, you know, we can go there. Like check out both the addresses personally? So many facts are not present on the 'net. We may find something worthwhile for the case or maybe, even find the mastermind?"

"I was contemplating the same thing. But I wanted to take Mark and Alex with us. After all, four brains are more dependable than two." Pooja snickered a little. 

"Sure. I will shoot them both a text to meet us up after their shifts get over." 

But there was no need to do that. When Pooja unplugged her phone from the charger, she saw their texts. Both of them had taken an off early and were en route to Ethan's penthouse.

After fifteen minutes, Mark and Alex arrived. Ethan and Pooja filled them up with everything they had come across.

Then they told them about their plan of visiting the two addresses. 

"That would be incredible. But before that, you both should know the autopsy results." Mark said. 

"The Autopsy result came?" Pooja asked. 

"Yup, this morning. And guess what?"

"The cause of death is not the throat slit. It is Acute Cyanide Poisoning. The throat was slit afterwards." Alex informed them.

"What the hell?" Pooja remarked, wide-eyed.

"All this is so seriously messed up, isn't it?"

"The person has a medical history. They would know the dosage. Also, looking at the kind of criminal he is, it would not have been too difficult for him to arrange the cyanide." Ethan stated. 

"But Why Mr. Davis? I don't understand" Alex queried curiously. 

"Let's get going. I am sure we will get at least some of our answers from these two addresses." 

The four grabbed their coats, took the three clues, packed their tab and set off. The first address on Lyon Avenue was not far from Ethan and Pooja's place. 

They arrived there in ten minutes and spent another five minutes in searching the store.

The drug store was not very busy, dimly illuminated and smelt fusty. 

The man at the counter didn't even notice them coming until, 

"Ahm" 

Ethan cleared his throat. 

The man almost jumped out of his seat. Regaining his composure, he said, "How, ahem, How may I help you?" 

"We need some information. Can you remember who was the person who bought these from you?" Pooja said, handing him the receipt. 

"I am sorry, but information of our customers is confidential. We can not reveal it to anyone except security personals or family member."

Uh Oh. Now what? Nothing a sprinkle of drama can't resolve. 

"Um, Actually the person who bought these from you was most probably my brother. And he is missing for the last three days. So we are searching for information which can lead up to him." Mark said.

Either The shopkeeper was disinterested in their explanation or whatever he said about confidentiality was a lie because he didn't question Mark. He just eyed him sceptically and revealed,

"It was four days ago. I don't remember quite well, but I can give you some information. It was a man of medium height, wearing a high collared black jacket. He wore sleek black sunglasses and a mask. He did not speak anything but handed me the list of items he needed.

He made his payment in cash. When I asked if he was a medical professional, he showed me his visiting card. The card seemed pretty old and unkempt, but the designation Dr. was visible. So I didn't think much and gave him his things. That's all I can recollect."

"Was the visiting card that he showed similar to this?" Ethan asked, presenting the visiting card they had.

"Let me see."

"Yup, the font does seem similar." 

"Seems like this might be our man. Thank you very much for the information." Mark said before they started to exit the shop.

"Wait a sec." The man at the counter beckoned them.

They turned back.

"What is it?"

"I just remembered something. The man, he gave me an extra 20 bucks. When I informed him that he had given me extra cash, he gestured me to keep it. Also, when he was handing over the money, he folded up the left sleeve of his shirt, and there were numerous cut marks on it." The man at the counter told them.

The instant they heard about the cuts, they got the confirmation of their lingering suspicions.

This man was the murderer, and he was the one who was sending them the bloody notes.

The four thanked the man, and as a gesture of gratitude handed him some bucks. Then they left the shop and set off for their next destination.

Once seated back in the car, Pooja said, "So now we know that we are following the right person. Maybe the second address will tell us more."

"Mark, How did you deduce the murderer to be a man?" Alex asked.

"Just took a wild speculation. And because I have,"

Mark stopped.

"had a brother, that came out spontaneously." Mark's voice held traces of pain and brought out the confrontation among his thoughts.

But he quickly regained composure and said, "But thank god the guess was right. If not, we would be in a hell of a mess."

Mark laughed a bit, but his laughter sounded somewhat void.

For the rest of the journey, there was no conversation. A deafening muteness fell in the car, but no one tried to rip through it.

The journey to the second address took 20 minutes.

But they were a bit taken aback from the situation of the place.

It was a cryptic, morose part of the city, and it was awkward for a doctor to set up their practice here. In the entire street, darkness lurked. Flickers of light were visible in some of the houses.

Ethan, Pooja and Alex started to walk down the street slowly to locate the private clinic, but Mark stayed behind.

It was as if distasteful remembrances came to him, inundating him, due to the sight in front of him.

There was a glimmer of identification of the area in his eyes.

After walking a few steps, Alex realized that Mark was not with them.

At first, she began to panic, but when she turned around and saw Mark standing by the car, sighed in relaxation.

"MARK, MARK" Alex beckoned him.

Alex's voice caused Ethan and Pooja to turned around. They, too, detected Mark and the three started to pace towards the car.

"Mark, what happened?" Alex asked after arriving at the car, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Then she spotted the tears rolling down Mark's face.

Before she could say anything, Mark hugged her and broke into stringent sobs. His entire body was shuddering with every cry.

Ethan and Pooja quickly went beside him, trying to calm him down while Alex held him in her embrace.

"Mark, Honey, what happened? Is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell or something?" Alex asked, panic apparent in her voice.

Sensing her dread, Mark tried to regain his composure. And he succeeded a bit.

Breaking himself from Alex's embrace but holding her hand for strength, he levelled up. The other three looked at him, concern and curiosity both unambiguous on their faces.

"T-T-This place, I k-know this place." Mark began, voice trembling a bit.

"You do?" Pooja asked.

"Y-yup. This place, it endures as the beholder of the pain my family went through. All our sufferings, all our cries started here and ended h-here." Mark said, on the verge of tears.

"Mark, if you don't want to talk about it, it is okay, you don't have to," Ethan said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"N-No, I have to say this. I have to tell you."

Mark took a pause.

"T-T-This place is where m-my c-childhood home is."

The grief that we hide from the world, that we bury deep in our soul, when it comes out, it twists knives in a way that rips through all our soul leaving us as shredded as we were when we encountered it.

PS: This case had pulled strings which no one had expected. But will these strings tug the answers with them? This chapter feels like the beginning of the end. What do you think, is Mark's dilemma? What about Pooja's childhood? And what new challenge will the murderer place in front of them?

Every question will be answered and every Mystery will be solved. They might be Detectives by chance but their skills know no bound.

If you enjoyed the story, please like, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going 💕. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great day ahead.💕💕

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums: Ministry’s 1983 debut, With Sympathy! It’s not a metal album, and it’s not even an industrial album--it’s just some damn good synth-pop, despite who made it! Whether you’re curious where Uncle Al got his start and why he hates his first LP, or you just want some excellent New Romantic music, you should check this one out. Full transcript of the video under the break, as always.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be tackling the debut album of one of the best-loved industrial bands--though it actually isn’t all that “industrial.” This is With Sympathy by Ministry, first released in 1983. Ministry are one of those acts that have gone through many stylistic evolutions throughout their career, and if you’re familiar with some of their more acclaimed works, it may surprise you to learn where they started out. While With Sympathy was the first full LP released under the Ministry name, it’s not the very first thing in their discography--that honour goes to the 12” single “I’m Falling,” released in 1981.

Music: “I’m Falling”

With a springy post-punk bass line and a tinny mechanical rhythm, “I’m Falling” is a rough-edged piece of cold wave. It was released on the famous Wax Trax! Records, well-known as the home of many of the most illustrious industrial acts of the 80s and 90s, from Coil and Laibach to Meat Beat Manifesto. But for their follow-up LP, Ministry would work with a major label, Arista, and twist that bass-heavy sound into something with less hiss and more groove.

Music: “Effigy”

On the opening track, “Effigy,” a bright synth line artfully fences an electric guitar riff for dominance, showing the extent to which the sonic blueprint of British New Wave acts like A Flock of Seagulls prefigured With Sympathy. This is an album that could only have been conceived in 1983, in the full flush of synth-pop’s mainstream popularity, and it does feel like a cash-in on the success that imported European synth-pop achieved in the first few years of the 1980s--even in Ministry’s native America.

While I’ve covered some albums with somewhat controversial legacies before, With Sympathy probably sets the record for the work that’s most despised by its own creator: Ministry frontman Al Jourgensen has disowned this album even harder than Ralf Huetter did the Kraftwerk albums before Autobahn, even going so far as to claim its affable, fairly commercial sound was entirely the product of Arista’s executive meddling. As with all legends of how great art was made, I don’t particularly believe or disbelieve this legend, or think it’s possible to know if it’s “true”--I simply present it to you as a piece of context, a myth that informs the history of this work. It’s worth noting that the acerbic, aggressive track “Here We Go” is often held up as a form of evidence for this story.

Music: “Here We Go”

The lyrics of “Here We Go” seem to imply that the song is, itself, intended as some sort of offering to the pop charts, but the confrontational style of the vocals is hard to overlook. I suppose it’s somewhat catchy, but not exactly in the same way that a real hit song is--there’s a certain fetching incompetence behind it, that makes its energy that much more compelling. “Here We Go” was released as a single, but only as the fourth selection from the album to receive that honour. A similar quality of dissonance between words and music can be found on the closing track, “She’s Got a Cause.”

Music: “She’s Got a Cause”

Like so many pop-leaning albums by artists who belong more on the underground side of things, With Sympathy has this constant tension bubbling within, and that crass, subversive industrial mindset is straining within the soft prettiness of its synth textures. The darkly playful “She’s Got a Cause” presents us with a narrator who seems to enjoy an idealized abuse at the hands of their lover, in a manner that’s reminiscent of the common industrial preoccupation with sado-masochism. And yet, it sounds downright bubbly--surprisingly so for a closing track, too. The album’s third single, “Work For Love,” is another that plays with this dysfunctional relationship theme.

Music: “Work For Love”

With tight handclap percussion, a call-and-response hook, and even a rhythm break, “Work For Love” certainly delivers on a “work chant” feel. Like “She’s Got a Cause,” it’s a very fun track, on the surface, but the more you think about its gleeful commodification of love and intimacy, the more sour it seems. Given the expected hard R in “work,” this seems like as good a time as any to note frontman Al Jourgensen’s apparent decision to ape something of a working-class English accent, by far one of the most derided features of With Sympathy. Personally, though I’ve never found this all that offensive--there are many styles of music in which vocalists adopt something of a trade cant, and the conventional twang of country singers is as much of a stylistic convention of the music as country guitar. I tend to see a person’s art as a deliberately crafted creation, where the self might be re-imagined in creative ways, and I think the unrelenting demand for complete “authenticity” from artists is little more than rockist hogwash. But that’s just me.

The cover of With Sympathy is one that really puts the capital-R “Romantic” in “New Romantic.” An artfully splayed hand, with very vampish black nails, gestures ambiguously towards wilting, crumbling red roses, an iconic symbol of the impermanence of youth, love, and idealism. The out-of-focus backdrop for the image might be interpreted as veined marble, adding a classicizing touch, or perhaps a stormy sky filled with lightning, adding to the sense of melodrama. The title “With Sympathy” calls attention to the album’s gothic morbidity in a gleefully tongue-in-cheek fashion, and I wish it weren’t so easy to miss on the cover, placed as red-on-red text in the middle of the roses.

As I hinted at earlier, Ministry have never made anything else that sounds similar to With Sympathy. Their second LP, 1986’s Twitch, is a marked sonic departure, featuring harsh, mechanistic industrial assaults. An extremely different album, for sure, but one that I also like quite a lot, in its own way! By the 1990s, Ministry would adopt an increasingly guitar-driven sound, eventually blossoming from industrial into full-blown heavy metal--a transformation that makes With Sympathy look even more bizarre in the context of their catalogue.

Music: “Over the Shoulder”

While I’ve provided a lot of contextual information about With Sympathy, I do want to mention that when I first discovered this album as a teenager, I didn’t know much about industrial music at all, let alone Ministry. And I loved the album! At the end of the day, I think With Sympathy is a very enjoyable New Romantic album, in a vacuum, and I’d recommend it to anyone who’s interested in early 80s synth-pop. Don’t let those later metal albums scare you away from some damn good pop.

My favourite track on With Sympathy is “I Wanted To Tell Her,” the album’s second single. It gets off to a great start, playfully introducing us to an impressively groovy bass guitar, and features a duet between Jourgensen and one Shay Jones, who’s also credited as a co-writer on the song--the only writing credit on the album besides Jourgensen. While Jones would later release some house singles under her own name, she seems to have been a session musician at this point in her career, but does an astounding job for a hired gun. The instrumental of “I Wanted To Tell Her” is almost identical to a bonus track from the “I’m Falling” single called “Primental,” albeit with a bit more studio polish--but that extra bit of professionalism, and its superbly bitter and bitchy duet, push it over the top for me. That’s all for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “I Wanted To Tell Her”

[laadgovernorandsankadevi]

IPK Rewatch: EP 02; the dori breaks

and so it begins!! The first meeting, the divine stars have intervened. Devi Mayyian watched over as Khushi drove away on the stolen scooter and just as she pulled her dupatta feeling his gaze over her, she slips and falls in the arms of her rajkummar.

Every single interaction between them, it's Khushi who breaks away or walks away. Every single one. She is the one to break the bubble by stepping back or wanting to break away from his grip. He doesn't let her go right away as she squirms and him pulling her back into his arms for that brief second as he takes all of her in, makes her realise her hand on his collar which the moment she removes he pushes her off him. I think bitwa realised what happened to him. He was angry alright, but this girl stirred something the moment he saw her and her trying to break free away from him, a man who girls flock after; he is not going to take these feelings lightly. I think he realised what happened when snapped at her taking her hand off his collar.

Khushi stands scared. Whether any feelings in her have risen or not, she was scared and nervous to begin with and it's clear that the way this man stared at her was not how men should be looking at anyone for that matter. The guards take her away from the premises but not without her dupatta falling off and landing at his feet.

I always found the Khushi's dupatta a character of it's own. Dupatta means a lot to south asian women. Hell I would say that when I find myself wearing a 6ft fabric around me, the realisation of what this garment means symbolically and what it communicates about my character to style is not something that can be a joke. For a girl like Khushi, the dupatta is a symbol is respect and how funny and ironic it is that the man who in next few seconds will declare his control over her life will be the one to return/restore the respect he tried time and time again to disapprove about her to himself. The dupatta under his feet, falling by his feet is such a big deal. But also I feel this moment signifies that Devi Mayyian did sent Arnav as Khushi's protector. If Arnav has been provided with the power and ability to choose his interpretation of what her clutching her dupatta means, then he is also the only one whose treatment of her dupatta protects her image and reputation in eyes of others.

The dupatta and the collar are recurring motifs. And beautiful ones at that! There's something that happens to my brown ghairat at the utilisation of these motifs. Maybe internalised sexist rhetoric? 

Back at Gupta House, we get a glimpse of Bua ji's displeasure at Khushi's antics and everyone being worried about not being able to find the papers. Payal who had been hoping that Abhishek was unaware about the dowry, at finding out he's said nothing to defend the Guptas or his to-be wife, finds herself more upset. Meanwhile Garima figures out the connection between Khushi's absence and the mortgaged papers missing.

All while Khushi is being interrogated. In all honesty, I would be hella sus of Khushi being somewhere and ruining a major multi-million company's event. I tried listening multiple times but Barun really used to mumble a lot of dialogues on the beginning. He mumbles the name of a rival fashion house which the nosy person in me wanted to know!

When Arnav takes the first step forward, Khushi doesn't step back but it's from his second step forward that she starts taking a step back. A precedent is set between these two and the progression of their relationship with one taking a step forward, another taking a step back. Khushi doesn't willingly stop taking steps back until after Shyam's revelation. I think it also tracks Khushi's relationship with Arnav's anger. If Khushi's personality and actions give Arnav a reason to start falling for her or allow himself to trust his feelings for her, then none of anything that Arnav does ever allows Khushi to move past the confusion of having feelings for him. She is instead troubled at the aspect of liking someone she's doing her level best to hate.

In first 15 mins of the second episode, we get everything that's going to be the foundation. Arnav always being the one to catch Khushi, the collar, the dupatta, and the bubble which evolves into Rabba Ve, and the steps. I think this is the one of the reasons the initial episodes are beautiful and grip you. The show doesn't waste time in establishing the thesis of their relationship. We slowly start exploring their characters but the relationship, that's what all of this is about.

Sanaya literally looked like a goddess in this episode I swear. The make up is perfect, her face looks perfectly angelic and stands out in contrast to Barun's intense presence. the glowy backdrop of the make up room with mirrors and lights provides a perfect backdrop for who both of them are as people. Arnav being extraordinary and grandeur. Khushi being the source of light.

With Arnav narrating about aukat and wealth, Khushi's expression changes and she refers to caring about family members. She's here because of her sister. Eventually Khushi lands up in Shantivan because of his sister. If money is a motivator to regain the Malik's lost respect and turn them into Raizadas, the money is also something that Arnav equates with respect. He is after all still standing in Sheesh Mahal, and money along with respect was what he lost the day him and his sister were kicked out. He had to rely on Mami's assistance eventually to be able to build up a strong investment portfolio and a fashion house.

I also think Arnav used wealth and class as a reason to provoke Khushi. There are two types of people in middle class or lower classes. Those who take pride in their ability to not ask for help and earn their way through life, and those who would do anything for money. Funny how the damad of Malik's daughter is the one whose a gold digger.

But what is something poor girls have to prize more than their being? Their respect. And at the mention if his sister who Khushi made an assumption of existing, he is compelled to destroy everything about her.

badtamizi pe tou mein Abhi aya nahi hoon.

The way this show turned the dori and dupatta into a motif of what they actually are is beautiful to me. There's nothing romantic about preserving respect and dignity, but there is something powerful in someone's ability to be able to do so. Arnav ripping apart the pearls and having them scatter symbolises how his presence took the innocence away. From the release of this clip, there is no moment where Khushi's character doesn't come under question by either Arnav or Shyam. The pearl dori breaking also starts Arnav's journey of walking a path where he had to be apologise. He is going to be living with this guilt for at least the entirety of the year.

Back at Gupta House, everyone is concerned for Khushi except for Bua ji, who is definitely the one more concerned about appearances than Garima. Perhaps because for Garima, her husband is still present besides her. As much as I hate prioritising of appearances and the shame-based social approach of brown communities, it is something that unfortunately exists and our narratives exist within the existence of socially acceptable appearances.

Payal whose been asked concisely about Khushi doesn't budge but she decides to say something with her father returning. Perhaps because she also realises that the way she loves Khushi unconditionally and considers her as her closet confidant, Babuji also is accepting and understanding of Khushi's intentions even if they revert to a mistake. Payal's displeasure at Abhishek not speaking up for her also helps in being happy at Khushi's return and aiding Khushi afterwards as much as she could.

Shashi who had been apprehensive about dowry to begin with is relieved to see Khushi safe and sound, Garima who was adding by the norms of how girls family should behave was disappointed beyond words, and Bua ji was just straight up angry. I think Bua ji is the only character who despite loving Khushi, displays the bias in how she considers Payal to be perfect and Khushi to be imperfect.

While Khushi provides the explanation about going to meet the not-hone-wale jija ji, we do get an insight into why despite Manorama's objections and her own reservation on class issues, Payal agrees for Akash. Because Akash is honest about his feelings and about all that he hopes to provide. I have to say, the Gupta sisters have a really low bar for their men after having Shashi as a father. But honestly, don't we all just settle at crumbs half the time? It's truly a shame. -- Khushi admits her mistakes unless she's challenged or dared. and she doesn't hesitate in apologising except from Arnav. Khushi apologising is almost a norm for her character however Khushi apologising Arnav is not going to be one. I find that juxtaposition of how Khushi treats Arnav and him wanting apologies to be extremely hilarious! She forgives his gravers mistakes but not anything menial.

mat kaho humme amma!

oh, how it breaks Khushi's heart! Khushi is wholly accepted into her family even by Bua ji; so on the two occasions when she is reminded of her orphaned status, it crumbles her entire world. After all, she went to see Abhishek, Junior Engineer who wanted dowry for her step sister. She crosses over boundaries for those she loves and her family members are the people she repeatedly crosses these boundaries and social conventions for. Also in both the instances of Khushi being reminded about her orphaned status, Shashi and Payal are more understanding despite their disappointment or pain. They truly love Khushi whole-heartedly and perhaps unconditionally which is something that surprisingly Arnav does too even though the first marriage between the two was on the terms and conditions laid out by Arnav driven by his interpretation of Khushi’s betrayal.

The episode ends with Khushi opening up the sweet shop after being unable to sleep. I love the moonlight on both the girls face. It symbolises their inner turmoil and distress. With the divine clock on, the journey to rediscover themselves and them in love is going to rule the hearts of Gupta sisters.

[emotionalsupportbun-chan]

dani sent me a text without punctuation, which i then interpreted as a very specific fic request

this became so much more than I thought it was going to be and *i guess* there’ll have to be more 

so anyway here’s afab Zhao

nsfw, obv. 

Almost, Almost. Kasuga said it was close. An empty building, still unsold, still draining a dead man’s bank account. It was technically squatting, but no one would think to look for them there and none of them could quite handle a bar right now.

 They leaned on each other, stumbling down the narrow alleys of the Red Light district, the support both physical and emotional. Saeko shouldered more of Kasuga’s weight than Zhao had assumed she could. Themself and Joon-Gi embraced like drunkards on a dance floor, each a load-bearing wall to the other. Just focus. One step after another, one foot in front of the other, until the gaudy facade of an abandoned soapland came into view. 

The door was unlocked. That should have been reason for concern, but “preoccupied” was an understatement. The interior was quiet nonetheless, air stagnant, dank from the lingering moisture of the establishment’s past. A layer of dust covered the front desk, the phone, the pictures of the smiling girls that still adorned the walls. The scattering of bubbly brunettes, headshots subtly retouched, greeted them in the absence of their late boss as the party silently trudged up the stairs, each one picking a room. Zhao went straight down to the end of the hall to a room they knew was still fully stocked with a variety of therapeutic oils and herbs. With the finish line in sight, each step became a battle of its own; each one highlighting a new ache, a yet undiscovered cut, a deep bruise. Their legs felt like jelly, like the bones could slide out onto the floor at any moment. After an eternity, they hit the threshold, not so much opening the door as letting the weight of their body fling it to the side. Inside, they found the room not entirely as expected. 

“Oh…?” Surprise, disappointment, irritation. A great cacophony of feelings arose at the sight of another person in the room, and somehow they all fit neatly into that one word.

“Huh?” The figure rose from their crouched position in front of the sliding doors of the storage closet. It was a woman - inky black hair cut short, face unadorned by makeup aside from striking oxblood lipstick, athletic outfit both fashionable and utilitarian. “Fuckin’ hell, ya look like ya tried to fist-fight a wreckin’ ball.” 

Ignoring the surprisingly accurate comment, Zhao tried to slip into the old Scary Gang Boss performance. They didn’t know who this woman was, but they were fairly certain she didn’t belong here. “Hey! You…” But the energy quickly faded, intensity falling from their voice. “Just get out.” They hoped that tone could carry the rest of the message as the words failed to come. I have a lot of questions, but no drive to ask them right now.  

“I’m serious, ya got fucked up.” There was genuine concern in this stranger’s voice. “Come sit down before ya fall over an’ hit yer head ’r somethin’.” She approached, guiding Zhao to a rickety chair in the corner. “Didn’t mean to cause any problems, I thought this place was abandoned,” she said, resuming her search through some boxes stacked at the bottom of the closet. 

Zhao sank into the seat and watched her, trying not to concentrate on the throb of torn muscle. More questions came and were dismissed, deemed not worth the effort of speech. They couldn’t help but notice how well her ass filled out her athletic leggings, though.  

“Is that so?” They took a breath, gathering the will to continue the conversation-slash-interrogation. “Strange, I didn’t know Kansai thieves came in such pretty packages.” They wanted the comment to be something more aggressive, but the flirtation was instinct; the quip slipped out before they even thought to stop it. It was met with a sharp jab to the side by a single manicured nail. 

“A comedian, huh? Very funny.” She upended another small box. “Damn…”

“But really, who are you? What are you doing here?” They let their voice go quiet and calm, an almost-threat, Serious Business Zhao. Great ass aside, an intruder was an intruder. And sure, they didn’t have the strength to put up much of a fight, if it came to that, but Quiet Menacing usually did the trick. 

“I used to work here.” Another box, inspected and discarded. Finally, she fell back out of a squat, now sitting on the floor in a crab-like position, red faced with the effort of her frantic search. An errant strand of hair fell into her face and was blown away in a huff. She wore her frustration openly. It was cute as hell.  

Oh, now you’ve done it. They tried to come out with something slick and witty. “Hi, ‘I used to work here’. I’m Zhao.” They threw a half-smile on for good measure. Nailed it. 

That frustration gave way to something between second-hand embarrassment and disgust. “Really?” 

She stood abruptly, gracefully. It seemed the athletic outfit wasn’t just for show. “As I was sayin’, I used to work here. Just got back in town and had to pick up some stuff I left behind. Looks like one of the other girls already got to it, though.” She paused, stretching. “Sucks about Nonomiya,” she added, the murder of her boss an afterthought. 

With new found high ground, she looked down at Zhao, licked a thumb, and tried to smudge away a line of blood on their cheek. “What’re you doin’ here?” 

“We, uh, wanted a bath.” They motioned toward the door, shifting uncomfortably through the strange woman’s fussing. “A friend of mine briefly worked for Nonomiya.” 

“Huh.” She began to inspect their various cuts and contusions. “Ya know any first aid? This is gonna take more’n a Toughness to fix.”   

“Not really.” Nothing more than the basics. Usually they’d just go see a Liumang doctor, but that wasn’t exactly an option anymore. 

“Lemme fix ya up then, it’s the least I could do.” She chuckled to herself. “Ya looked like yer soul’d left yer body, seein’ me in here.” She turned and started the bath running, opening the jars and bottles that she’d pulled out of the closet. Zhao watched as she mixed a scoop of this or that into the rising water and popped open a still-sealed medical kit. She tore open and arranged packets of gauze and astringent pads as the bath filled, a mise-en-place that would satisfy even the pickiest nurse. She’d even produced a basic suturing kit. “Go on, get in! I’m doin’ ya a favor here.” She tugged at the collar of their jacket. 

The transition to standing upright was not without pain. “Uh…” Sure, this might as well happen. “Yeah...ok, fine.” They carefully removed the leather jacket, the shorts, the shoes, folding them neatly and placing them on the chair Zhao had once occupied. Knowing my luck, I’d fall asleep and drown if I had to do it myself. 

“Hurry up,” She waved a hand in their direction. “It’s not nothin’ I haven’t seen a million times before.” Unsatisfied with their pace, the woman began to rapidly, procedurally, unbutton Zhao’s shirt, deft fingers working more quickly than they’d assumed the nails would allow. “Oh!” She stopped about half way down as the shirt fell open to reveal the sturdy sports bra beneath it. “Sorry, guess I just assumed…” 

“Don’t worry about it, easy mistake.” It wasn’t exactly a secret. Anyone who’d been in the Liumang long enough knew the old boss never had a son, but Zhao wasn’t going to stop any new blood from making convenient assumptions. They finished undressing themself as the woman stood in contemplation and slowly stepped into the bath, smiling at the stranger’s quiet nice. “If this changes anything…” 

“Oh, no.” She settled onto a short stool behind Zhao’s back and rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. “If anything, my job just got easier. Don’t gotta worry about any wayward, uh, anatomy.” Her tone was cool, casual, but Zhao knew when their body was being appreciated. They had that effect on some people. Mostly girls. Men typically didn’t like someone they perceived as a woman having shoulders as broad and well-muscled as theirs.  

Once they were settled, the stranger set to work. Whatever she mixed into the bath stung as it came into contact with the various cuts across Zhao’s body, but soothed sore muscles and joints better than any concoction they could have come up with. The initial inspection was thorough; the woman was unhesitant in picking up limbs and manipulating skin. She didn’t seem to find anything worth stitches - the few cuts that were a little more than just a scratch got spritzed with wound wash and treated with an antibiotic ointment. She rubbed some kind of cream over the larger bruises. 

Once satisfied with the state of their wounds, she started working the shoulders and neck. First gentle, but firm, presses of knuckles to loosen the knots. Then she really set in, putting her full weight behind an elbow, working just under the base of their neck. It hurt at first, and Zhao almost called it quits, but after a minute or so the tension gave way and their legs - their whole body, for that matter - turned to jelly once again. They had a brief spike of worry - they were helpless under her hands; this would be a perfect opportunity for an assassin - but the thought left as quickly as it came as she moved lower down their back, pushing the heels of her hands into their spine and hitting each vertebra one by one. “Relax, relax. I’m not gonna hurt ya.” She must have felt the moment of tension. Zhao tried to respond, but the words that came devolved immediately into a low moan at the return of the elbow. No use; resistance was futile. They were putty. 

Eventually - unfortunately - the massage ended. As the woman pulled her arms out of the water, Zhao could have sworn they felt the barely-there sensation of her fingers trailing the outline of the phoenix inked across their back. Before they could say anything, she leaned in, pressing the side of her face against theirs. “All better?” she said, lips grazing the bit of neck just below the ear. Not even a kiss, just a whisper of heat. Her voice had changed, becoming something saccharine and syrup-dipped, dripping with anticipated carnality. Oh, a full service experience? Zhao didn’t anticipate this being part of the deal, but who could turn down such a skilled professional? The woman was a master of her art. The hands soon returned, this time settling low on the hips, drifting slowly around to the front of their body. Her chest plastered against their back, chin nestled in the crook of their neck, the first finger slipped between their legs... 

A voice sounded, somewhere down the hall, barely squeezing through a quickly narrowing tunnel of desire. Something about Survive and karaoke and Joon-gi said he’ll sing this time, are you done yet? 

Without warning, the warmth of her body pressed against them disappeared as the woman pulled away and snatched a bag off the floor, leaving Zhao red-faced and stupefied. “Looks like it’s time for me to scram.” Back to business. No more Sexy Soapland Girl. “Put this on yer bruises ‘til they go away,” she said, dropping a tube of cream onto the stool as she hurried toward the door. 

“Wait, who - “ Zhao tried to hoist themself out of the bath only to find their legs still shaky as a foal’s. They slipped back in with a wet plunk, sloshing water over the edge and onto the floor. By the time they’d righted themself, the woman was long gone and Kasuga had come wandering in with a towel to hassle them about their bathing habits. After a moment of teasing, they were left to dry, and dress, and try to pretend they weren’t wet in more ways than one. 

It would be hours until they realized they didn’t remember seeing the woman’s face among the portraits over in the waiting room. 

[roommatesandwiches]

Movie Night

For context: This WIP is set in The Consequences Of A Magic Sandwich, a series (with currently only one fic) based off that 'demon sandwiches' thread; Reader is a human that pals around with demons and serves them sandwiches when they come visit. It's supposed to be Vox-centric, but I somehow ended up writing about other demons more. (this one is set a bit after Reader's met Vox for the first time)

I wanted to write a one-shot of Reader hanging out with the VVV but realized I had zero idea how to write proper dialogue, especially with characters I'm not all that familiar with. I chickened, basically, because we have little to no information what all of their personalities are, but this came out decent enough so I thought I'd share.

Viv mentioned that all of the stuff in Hell are 'off-brand', and the following is kinda how I interpret the meaning of that as well as Velvet and Valentino's personalities while we still know little about them.

-----

The ice cubes clink as they touch the bottom of the glasses. Following after them is your fresh, homemade lemonade that you pour carefully from the jug. You then pop the straws into the glasses before carrying the tray over to the table where your demonic guests are sitting. Valentino is casually eating a sandwich, his eyes glued to his hot-pink phone, while Velvet is wolfing down your cookies one after the other like a homeless person who hadn't eaten in weeks. You place the tray down and the demoness immediately snatches a glass at the speed of light and knocks it back like a shot of vodka, ignoring the straw entirely. Her haste is rewarded with the ice spilling out and onto her face, some bouncing down her chest to her lap. "Slow down," you tell her as you hand her a napkin. "It's not going anywhere." "I know, but your food is just so good!" she draws out the words, and your worry that she'd get brain freeze disappears as she continues to be just as chipper as ever. Do demons not get brain freeze? Maybe she's just too hyped up to notice. Do demons get adrenaline rushes? You consider asking, but Velvet's stuffing her face with cookies again and Valentino is distracted. "Thank you," you say and you take a sip of your own glass of lemonade through the straw. You turn to the taller demon across from you, effectively catching his attention with your gaze. "You're not texting one of your workers, are you?" The pimp is quiet for a moment. "...'Course not." he says, but he puts his phone down. You sigh disappointedly, earning an annoyed look from him that you brush off easily.

"No working when you're here, remember?" you say. "This is a place for demons to relax. If you wanted to work over sandwiches you can do that in Hell." He frowns at your mothering, crossing his lower pair of arms poutily. "Fine, fine." He finishes his sandwich and finally takes his glass and brings the straw to his lips. He takes a sip and his eyes widen. "Dang, baby! This is f*cking delicious!" It tastes pretty average to you. "Don't you have lemons in Hell?" "Kinda?" Velvet made a face. "They taste gross. Everything tastes gross." "We have lemons, they're just... Off-brand," You raise an eyebrow. Off-brand lemons? "Just like everything else down there. We've got all the food and all the products you have up here but they're all sh*tty as f*ck." So that's why they like your food so much. It's not really great, it's just leaps and bounds better than the food in Hell. Velvet sighs and leans into her palm. You wonder if the brain freeze finally caught up to her. "Yeah... Even the Oreos are terrible." She suddenly perks up again and gasps sharply. She leans into you, filling your vision with her face. "Do you have—?!" "Oreos?" You push her back a bit by the shoulders as you try to remember. "I'll go check." You get up and make your way upstairs. Behind you, Velvet squeals and hits Valentino's arm excitedly. You hear the pimp say, "Calm down, Vel." but he sounds a bit excited, too. You go into your room and look into your snack drawer. After pushing aside a package of candies you spot a blue Oreo package hidden within and pull it out of the drawer. You grab some scissors before you bring it downstairs and show it to the demons triumphantly. They visibly brighten at the sight of it and won't stop looking at it in awe even as you cut it open. You hand them each a pack and they waste no time in tearing them open. They each toss a cookie into their mouths and simultaneously moan with delight as they bite into it. "So... So good," Valentino says with his mouth still full. Some drool drips down his chin and your fingers twitch with the urge to wipe it with a napkin. Velvet crams the other two Oreos into her mouth without even swallowing the first one and gets crumbs all over her dress and your tablecloth. Valentino at least takes his time to savour the sweet, sugary goodness. The demoness next to him reaches for another packet but you pull it out of her reach. She pouts like a puppy but you remain firm. "If you eat them all there won't be any left for other demons," is your reasoning, but really you don't want them to eat too much and get sick. You know how terrible that feeling is. Besides, you mother them enough as it is. "Just buy more." Velvet whines, making grabby motions with both her hands. "I'm not made of money," you say. Valentino opens his mouth so you add, "I can only get promoted so many times." "Actually, what I was going to say was that you could get a better job. We can easily make that happen, baby. You've just gotta ask." He winks and snaps his fingers with a flourish. "Thanks, but I like my current job," you say with a polite smile. "It's not the best pay, but it pays good and I like doing it." "Suit yourself, then." the pimp sighs and takes another Oreo. "I mean, with the extra money you could get some better clothes," Velvet comments, glancing at your outfit. You furrow your brows at her and she shrugs. "A change could be nice." "My clothes are perfectly fine as long as they fit me." you state with finality. "There's nothing wrong with looking good, sugar." You cast Valentino a look at that. "Not that you don't look good, I'm just saying that you could look better." "Well, I don't care about looking better. I like how I look right now." When clothes shopping, you usually just get whatever you think looks good, comfortable and is affordable. You've never really thought about how good anything looks on you and you don't really have any regard for style and brands. It was less of a hassle that way. "Are the clothes in Hell off-brand, too?" you wonder aloud. "Oh yeah, totally," Velvet says as she snaps a picture of the Oreo pack with her 'Hellphone'. She picks at the fabric of her dress. "A lot of the stuff for sale are tacky as Hell. If you want good clothes, you gotta make them yourself or pay really good money." "All my clothes are custom made and cost more than your house." Valentino adds. He gestures with all four of his arms and you easily understand why that could be. A lot of people in Hell probably didn't care to make clothes that accommodated demons that are shaped less like average humans. "That sucks." "It's Hell, babe," Valentino shrugs. "Everything sucks." "Even movies?" you question. "Yeah. Well," the pimp smirks. "Not our movies." Oh right. They make porn. You're not into that stuff, but you understand how some people are. All to their own. "Drugs don't pay for themselves!" Velvet laughs hysterically before adding, "We sell drugs too." Well, no wonder they were so stinking rich and high up Hell's hierarchy. Sure, power played a part, but down in Hell stuff like porn and drugs are likely really high in demand, you'd think. Velvet suddenly gasps again and turns to you with wide eyes. "O. M. G. Do you have—" Drugs? "—Movies?!" You look at her quizzically. "Of course I do—" "Ohmygoshohmygosh!" She's practically vibrating with excitement and her pupils dilate to the extreme. She's so excited that you're afraid that she might explode and get blood all over your dining room. Her claws snag on your shirt as she pulls you close. "Can we borrow them?!" You're about to say "Yes." when you second-guess it. You close your mouth and take a moment to think about it, prying Velvet's hands off of you as you did. "I... Don't know." you end up saying. Honestly, you don't doubt that she'd slit your throat and snatch up all your DVDs (or just steal them without going through the trouble of killing you) if you said "No." Velvet grins maniacally, giggling. "Don't trust us with your movies, huh? Haha! I wouldn't either!" "How about a movie night?" Valentino suggests. You look up at him and you swear his eyes are sparkling with excitement at his own idea. "Instead of borrowing them, let's watch them all here!" He grins expectantly at you and you suspect that he expects you to hate the idea, but surprisingly, you don't. Having a movie night with some demons isn't a bad idea. It'd be just like having a movie night with humans, but demons. It's been a long time since you've had a movie night with anyone, anyway, so it'll be nice. "That sounds fun," you say truthfully and Valentino frowns. "I can prepare the snacks, but oh—Don't you guys have work, though?" "We already have a night set aside for movies!" Velvet pipes up. "Ooh, Vox's gonna love it!" That makes you pause. "Vox?" "Um, yeah! We can't have a movie night without Vox!" she says as if it's the most obvious thing. "The point of movie night is so that we can hang out, duh."

(That's pretty much it. Thanks for reading y'all.)

[aubreyweston]

When: Today, right now

Where: Aubrey’s apartment

Who: Aubrey ft. his roommates Tanner and Chet

Warnings: drug/alcohol overdose

Word Count: 1,000 (yes exactly)

Aubrey had woken up surprisingly well-rested after he’d conked out after his Friday exam. Unfortunately, that meant his brain was functioning enough that he’d woken up fine, and sporadically gotten more anxious as the day progressed despite the small respite that texting Sebastian offered. It was weird how quickly they’d flipped the switch from outright hostility to tentative friendship, but Aubrey supposed it was helpful that he’d made an effort to stop interpreting everything the other male said like it was intended to antagonize him.

He’d been staring at his journalism notes for about half an hour and absorbed none of the content so he sighed, stood up and left his room to go raid the fridge. The living room was empty besides Tanner conked out on the sofa luckily, so he didn’t have to interact with any of his roommates while he dug around for something to eat.

He pulled out some ingredients and threw together a halfhearted sandwich, and after a moment grabbed the half-full bottle of Captain Morgan in the back. Thank god for Chet and his never-ending desire to party. Surely Captain Morgan was a step up from Fireball? He’d have to ask Santana the next time he saw her.

He returned to his room and scarfed down the sandwich and drank a glass of the rum, before finally returning to his notes, pouring himself a second glass and sipping at it slowly as he made his way through the information.

That was better. Being fed and having something to take the edge off already had him able to read his notes. At least for a bit. He got through a third of them before he slapped his notebook shut and groaned.

Something was bubbling under his skin. A profound unease that he’d been able to ignore when he’d woken up but that had gotten worse as the day went on. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at his phone. He wanted to text Sebastian but… god, when had he become this needy person? Craving attention constantly? It wasn’t him. He flipped his phone around instead so that he couldn’t see the screen, sucking in his breath.

He poured himself another glass of rum instead. He thought it was his third. That wasn’t too bad, right?

He stared at his phone and then thunked his head on the desk. He’d really hoped this week, the distance, it all would’ve solidified his goal to keep his bond with Sebastian strictly platonic but that was an abject failure if the speed of his responses and the weird yet wonderful feeling in his chest was anything to go by.

Idiot. 

Things would be good until they weren’t. That’s how life always was. And even if it wasn’t, he’d fuck it up. He sucked in a breath, his heart racing. Fuck.

He tried to breathe in. Calm. He needed to be calm. He was working himself up over nothing. His mom, Sebastian, Santana, Brody, they all told him to chill out and trust himself and here he was hunched over, fighting to breathe because he couldn’t control his own thoughts, let alone his actions.

“Fuck,” he muttered hoarsely, swiping at his eyes. He pulled open his desk drawer and fished out his bottle of Ativan, pulling it open and shaking one pill out onto his trembling palm. He stared at the tremors. “F-fuck it.” He whispered, adding a second to his hand and then closing the bottle and tossing it back into his drawer.

He stuck the pills in his mouth, and then downed them with the remainder of his rum and prayed they’d kick in soon. God, his second panic attack in less than a week. He was such a shitshow. He hadn’t been this bad in years.

He abandoned his notes. He had all of Sunday to finish absorbing them and he was feeling decidedly not good.

He emerged from his bedroom, taking his plate back to the kitchen as well as the now-empty bottle of rum. He stuck the bottle in the recycling and was going to wash his plate but he was feeling lightheaded. He’d just wash it later.

He went back towards the bedroom, but the couch was closer so instead he more-or-less collapsed onto it, blinking blearily and trying to figure out what game Tanner and Chet were playing.

“You good, man?” Tanner asked, not looking away from the screen. 

Aubrey made a noise that he hoped sounded reassuring. He was fine. He was just feeling exhausted and dizzy all of a sudden because of his blood sugar or something.

He leaned against the couch cushion, his limbs feeling heavy though he simultaneously felt a bit like he was floating away.

“T’nner, I feel sssick,” he managed to say a few minutes later, blinking away from the bright light of the TV.

There was a hand on his forehead, and someone suddenly all up in his space.

“Dude, he’s like… freezing and sweating at the same time,” someone — Tanner? — said, an edge of something that sounded a lot like concern in his voice. Weird. Usually he was the one concerned about Tanner and his other roommates.

He shut his eyes, breathing slowly as another pair of hands was on him, pressing against his neck.

“Shit, call 911 dude. He’s not okay,” a voice he managed to identify as Chet said. “Mmmmf, Ch’t go ‘way,” he managed to mumble, slumping down.

“Shut up, Weston, what’d you take?” Chet was being loud. Aubrey ignored him. He was really tired and he just wanted to… sleep.

There was a lot of commotion. Chet and Tanner both talking, and someone was laying him flat on the couch. That was good. He’d fall asleep better that way.

Chet was asking him more questions, but Aubrey couldn’t make out what he was saying before he fully succumbed to the sweet darkness on the edges of his vision and passed out on his couch, unaware of anything around him.

[dyaz-stories]

The Maid and The Bodyguard — Chapter twelve

If you’re lucky, next chapter should be posted tonight on ff.net (I need to finish writing the last scene and then it’ll still need some editing)

First — Previous — Next — Also available on fanfiction.net

Summary: Inuyasha is princess Kikyo’s bodyguard, but one day, he fails to his duty and the princess is abducted. Kagome is a maidservant who works in the castle, and who has had an interest in Inuyasha for a long time. They are sent together to retrieve the Princess. On their way there, things may become a lot more complicated than they had anticipated. AU, Inukag.

Inuyasha woke up with a start the second he started turning back, instantly alert. He knew from experience that his senses had probably been sharpening for a while now, but apparently, that hadn’t been enough to get him out of his slumber. He sat up slowly, careful not to wake Kagome just yet, and took a moment to look at her. He hadn’t been able to do this in a while — or, well, he hadn’t let himself do it in a while — and it killed him how much he’d missed it, how much he relished being able to do it right now.

He gave himself a few seconds, probably longer than needed to assess the situation, longer than he should have spent, before finally reaching out for her shoulder, shaking her awake.

“Kagome.”

It took a few calls of her name before she opened her eyes, slowly, confused both by the deep but surprisingly gentle voice and the heat of the hand on her shoulder that seemed to spread through her entire body.

“Inuyasha?” she replied, voice thick with sleep, blinking several times to make his image less blurry. The silver hair and the ears were back, she noticed, part of her slightly bitter at the thought that whatever they had during the night was now gone. Again. Because maybe she was pathetic for that, and she certainly hated the feelings that surged within her, but she would take it. She’d give up on whatever else was there, inside her, if they could have even  something as simple as this.

Just… Just something. Something for her to cling on to.

He mumbled something that vaguely sounded like “Sorry” but it was too low for her to catch it clearly and she decided not to believe it. Better that than to be disappointed when he would no doubt turn on her, again. “We gotta go,” he continued. “Would be better to spend as little time as possible in demon territories. ’s a pretty dangerous place.”

She nodded, still silent, waiting for him to leave, to let go of her.

He didn’t.

She frowned, staring in his golden eyes, and vaguely thought about how much she liked the color, as pretty as last night’s purple was. “I need to get changed, Inuyasha.”

Only then did he seem to realize what he was doing, and he pulled his hand away from her like he had just burnt himself. “Keh. Yeah. Wear something practical, ‘kay? We’re leaving the horse here. Wouldn’t survive a day out there.” And I’d rather be protecting you than waste any time protecting it.

She frowned. “Oh. We’re going to be really slow then.”

“We’ll figure out something,” he simply answered with a shrug. “I guess I’ll carry ya.”

Her eyes widened, and Inuyasha found himself recoiling at her reaction. Not too long ago, he’d have told her that she had no fucking choice and that they’d do it because they weren’t going to waste any time just because humans were stupidly slow. Now though? Now he would never force her to do anything, but the thought that she would refuse, or worse, that she’d be disgusted or outraged at his proposition was fucking terrifying.

And this was why he didn’t get close to humans. He couldn’t live with that fear all the time, not when they tended to be so disappointing. He had Kikyo, and that was enough.

Well. It had been enough for the longest time anyway, and he should be working to make sure it would remain like that.

He really should be.

“Oh, erm, s-sure.”

Why was she stuttering? Why was she looking away from him? And why, why the fuck was she blushing? For a moment, he simply couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as he tried to comprehend what was going on there. He felt the urge, the need to touch her, to feel her. He started to reach out, then snapped his hand back, clearing his throat.

“Just don’t take too much time.”

She winced at his harsh tone, and he could have slapped himself. Fuck, he… He didn’t know how to handle that. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to make her feel like he wanted her far away from him. He knew he couldn’t ask for more, but just for now, couldn’t he at least have that? Just have her around. Be able to talk to her, without screwing it all up every five seconds. It’s not like he was asking for much.

“I’ll go talk to the innkeeper,” he growled. “Get him to take care of the horse.”

She finally stood up, taking a step towards him, her hand hovering above his arm before she resulted not to touch him, folding her arms instead, and the sight was so frustrating he had to hold back another growl.

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking at him questioningly, clearly worried. “They seem… Pretty on edge here. I don’t want them to cause trouble.”

“I’ll be fine. They sure don’t like demons, but at least they know demons. They won’t try anything. Just come down quick.”

She nodded, and he examined her just a second longer. He didn’t want her to worry. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated one last time before storming out.

Kagome closed her eyes after his departure, letting her head hang low for a few moments. There was clearly less tension between them now, but in a way it only made it harder. It only made it hurt more.

When she got out of the room, having left behind the more elegant kimonos she’d been given and having settled for the most simple one she could fine, which still felt very different to the ones she was used to wearing, the innkeeper bowed deeply, promised her that he would take great care of everything she left behind, and informed her that her “companion” was waiting for her outside.

It had to be the first time that Inuyasha wasn’t simply treated as some sort of slave following her around, making her think back to his words. Shouldn’t these people be even more terrified from him than anyone else? Was it truly a question of knowledge?

“Keh, about time,” he grunted when she came out of the inn. “Let’s start walking.” He lowered his voice before adding “I’ll take you on my back when we’re far enough.”

Kagome sighed. “So the Princess won’t be seen in contact with her bodyguard. Got it.”

“Somethin’ like that.”

HIs voice was gruff, and she couldn’t help but glancing at him. She knew her remark had lacked strength, though she would have liked to get on his nerves just a bit, but he was all the same. Their relationship was changing in ways she couldn’t quite grasp just yet, and she wasn’t too sure how she felt about it.

“You don’t… You don’t think there’s anything shameful about me being with you, do you?”

He glanced at her, seeming rather annoyed. “What sort of question is that?”

“Not one you can answer with that answer.”

He remained silent for a while, staring straight ahead of him as they kept walking, him being surprisingly slow, mindful of her capacities.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I mean, I guess not, but that don’t mean it’d be good for Kikyo or for anyone to be seen with me doing, y’know, something that could be interpreted weirdly.”

Hesitating, she glanced back and, since there was no one outside, she decided to take the risk and slip her hand in his. His eyes widened in surprise and he turned to look at her, mouth moving without any sound coming out. She squeezed his hand gently.

“There is nothing shameful about being with you, Inuyasha. I promise. The problem doesn’t come from you.”

He swallowed, and didn’t reply, simply hesitantly closing his fingers around her small and fragile hand. If she meant that, then what did her reaction after his kiss mean? If it wasn’t him being a half-demon, it had to be… It had to be him.

Somehow, he still liked the thought that it was his nature better.

“’kay, I think we’re good now.”

He knelt down in front of her, presenting her his back. “C’mon, get on.” When she didn’t comply immediately, he rolled his eyes. “What’re ya waiting for, woman? We don’t have all day!”

With some hesitance, she finally did, clinging to his shoulders as he stood back up, trying not to think about how her legs were partially revealed. She was glad what she was wearing right now didn’t need to be pulled up too much, but still, she didn’t feel too comfortable with it. And then there were his hands gripping her thighs tightly, even through the fabric…

Inuyasha cleared his throat. “Hang on tight, ‘kay? Gonna start running.”

God, he couldn’t just get all considerate with her like this. She nodded and buried her head in the red fabric of his haori, wrapping her arms around him. For one second, he seemed to tense, and she wondered why, but he quickly took off, and she shrugged it off, trying to use him to shield herself from the wind, and definitely trying not to read too much into it.

Dammit. Couldn’t he make it easy on her, just this once?

Inuyasha kept running like that for several hours before declaring it was time for them — well, mostly for her — to eat, at which point he set her down, instructing her to scream if anything happened, and took off again, leaving her alone and confused. Usually, she would have immediately made some fire, but she didn’t know if that would be careful, considering where they were. Wouldn’t that just attract more attention to them? Not wanting to take the risk, she set herself on waiting for him, simply sitting down against a tree.

She closed her eyes, letting herself feel the environment. She had always been rather sensitive to places where she was, but she had rarely been in such a peaceful setting. No humans, anywhere. Demons, probably, however from what she knew they didn’t exactly have villages or that sort of things, so the place was strangely lacking the usual agitation, the sort of constant buzz that humans make wherever they go. And yet…

It wasn’t a buzz, what she felt. More… More like wind. Not the actual breeze she was feeling, no, something that almost made her shiver.

Power, she understood. Demonic energy, concentrated enough for her to actually feel it. It wasn’t agressive in any way though. On the contrary, it was almost peaceful, accepting. It was terrifying in a way, knowing that it could suddenly turn on her and Inuyasha at any given time. But for now… For now she let herself relax, while waiting for him to come back.

Not one second did she worry about it. Inuyasha had told her he’d be there if anything happened, so why would she?

.

Inuyasha’s heart was beating loudly in his ears as he hunted. He hadn’t planned that. Hadn’t planned that feeling her against him, holding him, trusting him, would feel like that. He would have done anything to calm himself down, because he felt like he was going to catch fire right this second otherwise, and that was exactly what he ended up doing.

That is, he jumped into a river he’d smelled not too far away, actually picking that spot exactly for that reason.

After letting himself cool down for a few moments, he jumped out, shook himself to get rid of some water, quickly caught some fishes, then went back to her, only to be met by her curious eyes.

“Why are you wet?”

He rolled his eyes and ignored her. “Why isn’t the fire ready?”

“I— I wasn’t sure the demons…”

“The ones we need to worry about already know we’re here,” he replied with a joyless grin.

Kagome frowned, apparently not too happy with that information, which he could understand. “Oh.”

“So, are ya gonna get started on that fire?”

She glared at him. “You’d better calm down, or I swear I’ll…”

“Yeah?”

He couldn’t help himself as he teased her. Bad, Inuyasha. Bad idea. But she just looked so pretty, so something that he couldn’t quite place when she was getting angry at him. It was the way her eyes shone, the red color on her cheeks, the way she pushed her hair behind her ears — how had he not noticed that she did that earlier? Because that was fucking adorable.

“I swear you’ll be sorry,” she finally replied, and he just couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot when he heard her, even as she started collecting wood.

He had to fight the urge to step closer to her with every inch of himself. He didn’t know what was up with him right now. Maybe it was the ride he’d given her, but being away from her almost physically hurt. He had wanted to touch her before, but it had never been quite so intense. He had simply never felt something like that before and he was— He was just fucking confused. He had definitely craved contact before, so he at least recognized that part of this very new feeling, but the rest was new and weird and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

He swallowed, averting his eyes from her as she knelt down with the wood, preparing the hearth.

“Nothin’ happened?”

Why was he even fucking talking?

“No problem, no,” Kagome replied calmly without even looking up at him, something for which he was actually rather thankful, because he was sure he looked way too agitated at the moment. “But if they know we’re here, they probably knew you weren’t far away.”

He shrugged. There were quite a few things here that were powerful enough to cause problems, even for him. In fact, he’d bet that if anything, they were more worried about the spiritual powers they could feel coming from her. He didn’t pick up on anything when he was near, but if there was anything full demons would be better at than him, it had to be something like that. Feeling spiritual power — for simple survival reasons.

Not that that shit felt good for him by the way. He’d tested it, and thanks, but no thanks. Still, he knew he could survive it, where nothing would even be left of them if a monk attacked them.

“Keh. Are you getting somewhere with that shit?”

Kagome stood up, wiping her hands against her legs, and shot him a dark look. “It’s done, Inuyasha. Give me the fishes.”

He handed them to her, and he couldn’t believe himself when he made sure her fingers would brush against his as she took them.

The fuck was wrong with him today? Also, why hadn’t he noticed the fire’s smell? And could his heart stop beating so obnoxiously loud? Fucking hell.

“Hurry up,” he mumbled. “We have to get going.”

Kagome rolled her eyes again. “I know. What’s up with you, seriously?”

Yeah. He’d have liked an answer for that too, but he guessed ‘It’s all your fault’ just wouldn’t be good enough. Or maybe it’d be too good, he couldn’t tell. All the same, he was terrified by the possibility that it was right.

He mumbled something that she couldn’t quite get as she started cooking, but she shrugged it off, feeling a bit miserable as she did so. They’d gone back to their friendly behavior, apparently. Which was better than nothing, sure, but if felt so damn unsatisfying.

.

Riding with her for the rest of the day was hell. Inuyasha had never thought torture could take that form. In fact, just a day earlier, he would have laughed in the face of anyone who would have said that he could suffer from touching Kagome — but that was exactly it, wasn’t it? It was the touching. It had to be. It was holding her thighs in his hands, it was feeling her against his back, it was her arms around him and her breathing in his neck, her hair against his skin and her heat diffusing itself in his body.

All of that, and he wasn’t able to do anything about it.

What it was that he wanted to do, he wasn’t sure, to be honest. He could tell she was like a magnet for him, could tell he wanted to touch her, but he still couldn’t quite comprehend the strength of it all.

He wasn’t completely oblivious to the things of love and, well, sex. He heard the soldiers’ coarse laughter about it, he could even recognize its smell, sometimes discovering it on maids, and sometimes on noblemen and noblewomen. He wasn’t too sure how to feel about it. He knew demons didn’t quite have the same prejudice humans had about it. At the same time, he had vaguely understood, even as a very young kid, that the fact that his mother had had sex with a demon was the biggest part of the problem.

The problem being him. The proof that it had happened.

Because it was one thing to love a demon, to associate with one, but having sex with one? Worse, the fact that people could tell when they looked at him? That was the absolute disgrace.

He couldn’t quite tell if what he felt for Kagome, this intense urge to be with her, was about desire. Wasn’t sure what he should do with it if it was. He knew at least what he shouldn’t do though. There was one path he simply couldn’t pick. For his own survival, sure, but mostly because he wouldn’t be able to stand the look in her eyes, the disgust that would no doubt finally start burning in there if he did anything, as she pushed him away.

After a night he had spent jumping awake at the slightest sound, and during which he had had to growl at only a couple minor demons to send them running away, they started travelling again. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t get much better for him. If anything, he would have said it was getting worse, actually.

Which was the main reason why, when they stopped to eat, he said “We’ll stop here for the night.”

Kagome’s eyes widened as she looked up to him. “What? But it’s only—”

“I’m aware,” he growled. “But we’ve been followed by things and this could be a good time to train you with your powers. Might be enough to get them to go away.”

At least he wasn’t downright lying right now. One demon in particular, which he recognized through its smell, had seemed to take an interest in them earlier today and hadn’t let go of them ever since. He was fairly new at demons smells, as he hadn’t seen any since he had met Kikyo basically, so he couldn’t quite pin it down, but there was no doubt whatsoever that it was one. It was weird though, regularly changing, with its core remaining the same. If his nose hadn’t been that sensitive, it might have fooled him actually, making him think there were several different creatures. A shapeshifter, maybe? He had no idea, but he didn’t like it.

Still, it hadn’t shown itself, and he simply couldn’t leave Kagome behind to go hunt for it. He doubted it was really powerful though, otherwise it probably already would have made a move.

“How am I going to train anyway?” Kagome asked, all while feeling that she had been indulging him way too much recently. “I don’t know anything about that… power, or whatever you say it is. We know I’ve activated twice at least— Against that frog thing and…” Her eyes drifted to his neck, and he tensed self-consciously.

The necklace was still hanging there. He had tried hiding it, especially when they stopped in inns, because he knew everyone could tell just what it was, and he hated it, but he had realized that feeling it against his skin was even worse. At least, like this, he could forget about it from time to time.

“I could try to take it off,” she offered softly.

Just like the first time, he shook his head vehemently. “No. You don’t know anything about that stuff, and you don’t need to train for that. Unless you intend to use it on other demons.”

“Of course not!” she protested, shocked by the intense disgust in his voice. “I just want you to—”

“I can live with it, Kagome, okay? I’ll be fine.”

He had said that several times already, and still she just couldn’t bring herself to believe him. It was obvious that he hated having that thing around his neck. She was starting to get used to him refusing to let her do anything for him, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

He glanced away from her. He knew his anger had nothing to do with her, but he hadn’t expected to react so strongly when she had mentioned the necklace. He knew how much he despised it, but he hadn’t thought that the idea of him or any demon being basically enslaved by humans would make his stomach churn like that. Demons weren’t much better with humans when they got their hands on them, sure, but there was something terribly animalizing about how humans treated others living beings, and it just made him sick.

“Then that leaves us with the same problem,” she said slowly, anger obvious in his voice, and he knew he hadn’t heard the last of it. “How am I supposed to train?”

He rose an eyebrow. “’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I mean, I could go get you some demon, but I ain’t leaving you alone unless it’s absolutely necessary, so…” He opened his arms, the meaning of his gesture obvious.

Kagome stared at him, completely silent for a few seconds. “Are you kid— No.” He had rarely heard her being that final, but that didn’t mean he was going to back down that easily.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snarled. “You need to be able to defend yourself.”

He stood up and started walking towards her, leaving his half-eaten fish behind him, in full display. It was an obvious trap and he doubted it would do anything, but he at least had to try. If the demon went for it, it would be reassuring in terms of power and intelligence, and he may actually be able to catch it and deal with it, which would be one thing less to worry about.

She stood up in response, looking both nervous and worried.

“Inuyasha, I’m not using you for training. If you’re injured, it will be a much bigger problem than me using my energy.”

“I heal quick,” he replied with a mere shrug, taking another step, ignoring her obvious displeasure at him being so careless about getting hurt.

She put her hand up as to push him away, something they both knew to be completely useless since she would never do anything against him — not that he would ever put her in a situation where she actually needed to defend herself against him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Inuyasha,” she pleaded.

He stopped then, and maybe she had imagined it, but she thought she’d seen his ear flickering to the side. She turned around, wondering what he’d heard, and then next thing she knew, his arms were around her waist, his chest pressed against her back, and his mouth was way too close to her ear for comfort.

Finally acting on all these urges he’d felt for the past two days, finally touching her in a way that was at least slightly more satisfying.

“Wha—”

“What’d you do if something like that happened, K’gome?” he breathed, so close to her, sending the most delightful shiver down her spine.

“I don’t—”

“I get that you don’t want to hurt me, Kagome, I fucking do, I swear,” and his voice was surprisingly warm and fond and it just killed her, “but I need to know that there’s something you’d be able to do if somethin’ like that ever happens, okay?”

She felt him take a breath, his chest heaving against her back, and she wondered how he felt about her smell now, immediately cursing her brain for going in that direction now of all times. She bit her lip to try to keep herself focusing. She tried to let her shoulders react, closing her eyes, reaching deep inside her mind to try to find that energy she’d felt before.

Inuyasha was right, technically, even though he would definitely hear from that again — he could expect his food to mysteriously be burnt for the next few days. She needed to be able to defend herself, and she couldn’t just count on it manifesting whenever there was a danger. But there was a difference between that and a moment when she didn’t feel any danger whatsoever, she realized when she found absolutely nothing, not even the slightest spark.

Just the fire of Inuyasha against her.

“I can’t find it,” she said softly, all too aware once again of him there, against her, so close.

“Well—”

“It’s only ever reacted when I was in danger, Inuyasha. And I… I’m not in danger right now.”

His arms around her loosened just a little, and she regretted the pang of disappointment that ran through her just then.

“What’re ya talking about? We’re in the middle of—”

“But I’m with you,” she replied. “And as long as I’m with you, I don’t feel like I’m in danger.”

His breath caught in his throat, completely shaken by her words. He should have let her go just then, but he found he simply couldn’t, particularly when she managed to turn in his hold, which was much more like an embrace at this point, and her eyes met his. He tried desperately to understand, to find something in there to explain to him all the things he didn’t get, to finally tell him what she fucking meant by that.

The sight was so entrancing that he almost missed the movement on their left, but his reflexes did it for him.

Kagome lost her balance when Inuyasha suddenly disappeared from against her, miraculously regaining it before falling to the ground, a strange cold settling where he had just been touching her. She spun around, ready to yell at him because what on Earth did he think he was doing, and that’s when she found him, holding by the neck a—

“Oh my God, Inuyasha, what are you doing?”

He turned towards her, genuine surprise on his features, not understanding the anger in her words, only to find her storming towards him and snatching the demon from his hands.

“It’s a child,” she protested furiously, holding it carefully against her just like a mother would. “There is no need to be so brutal.”

“Brut— Kagome, it’s a demon. A kitsune. That’s probably not even its real appearance, for f—”

“How old are you?” she asked gently to the small, red-haired demon, ignoring him completely.

“I’m six,” the kid replied with tears in his eyes, and Inuyasha scoffed at that.

“Yeah right, and I’m—”

“You’re a dog-demon, shouldn’t you be able to tell?” the kitsune shot at him.

Inuyasha actually shut up for an instant to lean closer to him and sniff it carefully. Shit. He was telling the truth. He was a kid. He looked up to see Kagome staring at him, clearly waiting for his verdict. He sighed.

“Okay, yeah, he’s probably saying the truth, but—”

“Oh you poor thing! Were you trying to get Inuyasha’s fish? Here, you can have it!”

Inuyasha grimaced. Something was telling him that he hadn’t seen the last of the kitsune.

But it was only when he noticed the kid sticking his tongue out at him while Kagome was looking away, leaning down to pick up the fish — his fish — that he realized in how much trouble he was in. Oh, hell no.

He was not going to let that happen.