mleighd94

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Fourteen: Burn What You Can’t Bury

The precinct was quiet.

Outside, thunder rolled low across the city, echoing through steel and sky like the slow inhale before something catastrophic.

Y/N lay curled on a makeshift cot in the old records room, bandaged but restless. Someone had left a soft blanket draped across her legs. The scent clinging to it was faint—sea salt and eucalyptus.

Felix.

Her eyes fluttered open to the pale glow of dawn. Her body ached in strange places—bruises blooming beneath her ribs, an explosion wound tugging along her side—but it wasn’t the pain that woke her.

It was the weight.

Of memories. Of secrets. Of him.

Of Chan.

She sat up, the blanket slipping to the floor.

Down the hall, voices murmured through the walls. She didn’t need vampire senses to know whose they were.

————

Hyunjin leaned over the table, the scent of old ink and dust heavy in the air. He flipped through brittle pages and yellowed documents while Jeongin crouched by a cabinet drawer he’d cracked open with a crowbar an hour ago.

“I was re-cataloging that stack from the old archives,” Jeongin said, dragging out a flat, unmarked folder, “and I found this at the bottom—taped shut with a note in Latin. Pretty sure it was Vatican property at some point.”

Hyunjin looked up.

Jeongin opened it slowly and slid the contents forward—a thin envelope marked 1943 – European Activity. Inside was a grainy black-and-white photo, folded and brittle with age.

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed as he smoothed it out.

A war-torn city street. France, maybe. Or Berlin. Civilians ran for cover, soldiers ushering people into underground shelters. Smoke and ash blurred the edges of the image.

But in the far corner—almost lost in the blur—a woman stood still.

Too still.

She wasn’t running. She wasn’t afraid.

She was watching.

Eyes calm. Face ageless. Familiar.

Hyunjin’s stomach sank.

“That’s her,” Jeongin whispered. “Isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because he knew—this wasn’t just an old photo.

It was evidence. That she had been there. That her story didn’t begin in New York. Or even in 1890.

It stretched across continents. Across wars.

And maybe it still wasn’t finished.

———-

Changbin was already awake, arms crossed as he stood near the board filled with Dominic’s movements. He didn’t look up when Y/N entered the room.

“You should be lying down.”

She ignored him. “You found the old archives?”

He nodded toward the stairwell. “Me and Jeongin yesterday. You were too busy trying to bleed out on our floor.”

There was no warmth in his tone. But there was no venom either. Just tiredness. And something else. Worry, maybe. Resentment.

Or both.

She stood beside him in silence, reading the new markings on the map. Dominic’s men were moving again.

“Why are you helping?” he asked, suddenly.

She blinked. “What?”

“You say you want Dominic dead. But every move you make is calculated to keep us just close enough, never too far ahead. So what’s your endgame?”

He turned to look at her. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The pain in her eyes gave him all the confirmation he needed.

He grunted and stepped away. “I don’t trust you.”

“Then we’re even,” she whispered.

————

Hyunjin stood beside the long table, the photo still in his hand when she walked in.

He held her gaze. “You were there. World War II. And not just once.”

“I’ve been in a lot of wars.”

Hyunjin swallowed. “That blade… the Vermilion Oath. Some of the records say it was forged from the first vampire’s blood. Others say it was forged to end her. The girl who was turned—but kept her soul.”

Y/N didn’t flinch, but her eyes darkened. “Some stories are better left buried.”

“I don’t think this one wants to stay buried.”

There was a long pause. Then:

“Are you her?” he asked.

“The girl the blade was meant to kill?”

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

———-

Rain ticked softly against the windows as Felix entered, two mugs of tea in hand. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes distant as she stared at a pencil sketch of the Vermilion Oath on the table.

He said nothing. Just sat beside her and handed her a mug.

She took it without a word.

For a while, they just sipped in silence, the quiet between them more comforting than any conversation.

Then, as if without thinking, Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder.

Felix froze—but only for a second.

Then he gently rested his cheek against the top of her hair.

“You don’t have to speak,” he whispered.

“I’ll sit with your silence too.”

Outside, the storm began to fade.

But inside, the weight of what was coming only grew heavier.

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Fourteen: Burn What You Can’t Bury

The precinct was quiet.

Outside, thunder rolled low across the city, echoing through steel and sky like the slow inhale before something catastrophic.

Y/N lay curled on a makeshift cot in the old records room, bandaged but restless. Someone had left a soft blanket draped across her legs. The scent clinging to it was faint—sea salt and eucalyptus.

Felix.

Her eyes fluttered open to the pale glow of dawn. Her body ached in strange places—bruises blooming beneath her ribs, an explosion wound tugging along her side—but it wasn’t the pain that woke her.

It was the weight.

Of memories. Of secrets. Of him.

Of Chan.

She sat up, the blanket slipping to the floor.

Down the hall, voices murmured through the walls. She didn’t need vampire senses to know whose they were.

————

Hyunjin leaned over the table, the scent of old ink and dust heavy in the air. He flipped through brittle pages and yellowed documents while Jeongin crouched by a cabinet drawer he’d cracked open with a crowbar an hour ago.

“I was re-cataloging that stack from the old archives,” Jeongin said, dragging out a flat, unmarked folder, “and I found this at the bottom—taped shut with a note in Latin. Pretty sure it was Vatican property at some point.”

Hyunjin looked up.

Jeongin opened it slowly and slid the contents forward—a thin envelope marked 1943 – European Activity. Inside was a grainy black-and-white photo, folded and brittle with age.

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed as he smoothed it out.

A war-torn city street. France, maybe. Or Berlin. Civilians ran for cover, soldiers ushering people into underground shelters. Smoke and ash blurred the edges of the image.

But in the far corner—almost lost in the blur—a woman stood still.

Too still.

She wasn’t running. She wasn’t afraid.

She was watching.

Eyes calm. Face ageless. Familiar.

Hyunjin’s stomach sank.

“That’s her,” Jeongin whispered. “Isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because he knew—this wasn’t just an old photo.

It was evidence. That she had been there. That her story didn’t begin in New York. Or even in 1890.

It stretched across continents. Across wars.

And maybe it still wasn’t finished.

———-

Changbin was already awake, arms crossed as he stood near the board filled with Dominic’s movements. He didn’t look up when Y/N entered the room.

“You should be lying down.”

She ignored him. “You found the old archives?”

He nodded toward the stairwell. “Me and Jeongin yesterday. You were too busy trying to bleed out on our floor.”

There was no warmth in his tone. But there was no venom either. Just tiredness. And something else. Worry, maybe. Resentment.

Or both.

She stood beside him in silence, reading the new markings on the map. Dominic’s men were moving again.

“Why are you helping?” he asked, suddenly.

She blinked. “What?”

“You say you want Dominic dead. But every move you make is calculated to keep us just close enough, never too far ahead. So what’s your endgame?”

He turned to look at her. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The pain in her eyes gave him all the confirmation he needed.

He grunted and stepped away. “I don’t trust you.”

“Then we’re even,” she whispered.

————

Hyunjin stood beside the long table, the photo still in his hand when she walked in.

He held her gaze. “You were there. World War II. And not just once.”

“I’ve been in a lot of wars.”

Hyunjin swallowed. “That blade… the Vermilion Oath. Some of the records say it was forged from the first vampire’s blood. Others say it was forged to end her. The girl who was turned—but kept her soul.”

Y/N didn’t flinch, but her eyes darkened. “Some stories are better left buried.”

“I don’t think this one wants to stay buried.”

There was a long pause. Then:

“Are you her?” he asked.

“The girl the blade was meant to kill?”

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

———-

Rain ticked softly against the windows as Felix entered, two mugs of tea in hand. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes distant as she stared at a pencil sketch of the Vermilion Oath on the table.

He said nothing. Just sat beside her and handed her a mug.

She took it without a word.

For a while, they just sipped in silence, the quiet between them more comforting than any conversation.

Then, as if without thinking, Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder.

Felix froze—but only for a second.

Then he gently rested his cheek against the top of her hair.

“You don’t have to speak,” he whispered.

“I’ll sit with your silence too.”

Outside, the storm began to fade.

But inside, the weight of what was coming only grew heavier.

[mleighd94]

@potatomountain this chapter gets me every time. Maybe cause it’s Yunho and he’s my bias being so dominant in this 🥵🥵

Chapter Twenty-Five

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍Summary: "What You Wanted"

📍WC: 3.8k

📍AU: detective/mafia

📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance

📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, cnc, gun threats, gun play, choking, 'kidnapping' if you squint, size kink, stomach bulge kink, threesome (of sorts), manhandling, penetration with no barrier, cream pie, ripped panties, reader essentially consents, thrill kink, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia

📍AN: Guess whats back! And a day early! 5 chapters after this but honestly so much is gunna happen hehehe

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour

📍dividers and banner made by me!

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It occurred to you the alarm that had gone off wasn’t really an emergency, but a ploy to keep you from asking questions you shouldn’t. After all, Yeosang had been watching. You didn’t know where the camera’s were, or what he could see, but you were even more certain that was the case a week later.

You had purposely asked Haru if she knew of anything going down around that time, and she had just confirmed your suspicions. Then you picked up that later in the week the Guardians had interjected, backing up the Vipers just as you had told Hongjoong.

But the real suspicious activity was the Vipers’ increase of goods from the docks- they were doing business with the Black Pirates.

Some of the girls speculated that the Pirates were helping for more territory over the river; others said they saw that without the Vipers, they would be the target of the Wolves. You supposed both could be true, but if you were correct you knew the most viable answer: if the Vipers lost, then San was lost.

The conflicting emotions and morals inside your head and heart were starting to boil over, unable to look Seonghwa in the face as he picked you up for the night. It was later than usual, the club had been more packed than normal with quite a bit of players killing some time. You were quite good at bartending, adding a little extra alcohol for some to get their lips loose, losing track of time in the process.

Yet Seonghwa hadn't been waiting long at all when you came out the back, a reminder that Yeosang had been watching and probably told him when you started closing up. Adjusting your skirt that kept riding up you approached him, taking note of the subtle way he eyed your legs.

Good, that would make this easier.

The skirt rode up even more once you were on the bike, bare inner thighs pressed against his rear, pressing closer as the heat from the bike radiated onto your skin. Your arms were tight around His waist, chest against his back, usually shy deliberate touches were now bold ‘accidental’ touches you would constantly apologize for.

Like digging your nails into his hips when he would make a turn, or grabbing his thighs when he would stop so you could ground yourself. The way you “adjusted” your skirt every chance you got just to rub against him and press your chest closer. You could tell from the way his muscles tensed up, and the white-knuckle grip on the handles that he was affected.

Once you arrived at your apartment, you didn't immediately step off the bike, nor unlatch from him. Your hesitance to head inside showed, thankfully it played in your favor.

“Angel?” Seonghwa sounded concerned. Good. Perhaps this would make it easier to bring him inside.

Slowly you stepped off the bike, took the helmet off and appeared flustered. “Can we talk? Inside? Please?” When he appeared reluctant you added on “you told me if I had doubts to talk to you. You aren't going back on that now?”

He softened, shaking his head and stepping off the bike once he turned it off. “Of course not. Let's head inside.” With his hand on the small of your back you made your ascend to your apartment.

Each step felt like an added weight on your heels, glancing back as you held his hand. If he could tell you were nervous, he didn't let on. Maybe you could play it off with your concerns. Seonghwa was a smart man though, so who knows how long you could keep up with deception.

Hopefully long enough to subdue him.

Once inside your apartment you kicked your shoes off, taking his hand once more once his were off too. “What is it, Angel?”

His obvious concern felt like a knife in the already growing wound. “Has Captain told you… about what we did in the gym a couple weeks back?”

Only because you were looking for it did you see it: the slightest tell of recognition. He buried it quickly under a look of confusion. “No, he hasn’t. What did you do?”

That obvious lie was like a shot of adrenaline. A sharp reminder of what you had to do. Any thought you had about asking him straight out was dashed from your mind.

With a coy smile you pulled him by the hand to your bedroom, his gaze dipping to the way your hand worked off the zipper of the jean vest you wore, nothing but the lace bra under it. The undercover work required more revealing clothing, but this you wore with this moment in mind. “I sucked him off, I wanted to do much more than that but there was an emergency.” Your words clearly affected him, just as you wanted, but you were still cautious. “But I haven’t seen or heard from him since… did I do something wrong?”

Seonghwa followed your every step, letting you pull him into the bedroom as your vest was opened and chest displayed. “You didn’t do anything wrong Angel… I’m sure I would’ve known about it.” You were positive he did know though.

“Then… can you ease my worries? W-with Chan I-” You trailed off, playing the part of dejected woman perfectly as you pulled those feelings to the surface. “I don’t want any more uncertainties about if I’m wanted or not. Please? Just a reminder?” It helped you had been so vulnerable with Seonghwa before, he didn’t seem to suspect it was staged.

Not as he followed you onto the bed, lust taking over his features as he reached out, fingers trailing over the lace bra. “We’ve been neglecting you again haven’t we Angel?”

You nodded, scooting more and more back on the bed so there was plenty of room for you both. “Just a bit.” The closer he got, the more you shut off your emotions. The wants and desires to do this under different circumstances. To completely indulge in the way his gaze devoured your body, to trust him with your heart, and give yourself over to the partnership the eight of them had.

But you weren’t one to trust so easily, not any more, and you couldn’t handle the lies. Not after everything. This wasn’t a desire for them physically any more, or a need for respect in their work. His lips on yours felt like a game, as if they gave what you wanted just to keep you at bay, to twist and manipulate you so you suited their needs.

This was personal.

You kissed back just as you wanted to, because even as your world was crumbling you still desired him, desired them. His touch still had heat pulsing between your thighs, still had you so eager to lose yourself to the way his hands worshiped your body. Over your breasts, down your sides, pushing your skirt up so he could slot his thigh between yours.

With a ragged moan you rolled the two of you over towards your right, straddling his waist and grinding down on his hips with clear desperation. “Hwa~ You look so good like this, under me.” Your lips were back on his in a heated kiss before he could respond, rolling your hips to stimulate the growing bulge you could feel. You were throbbing imagining it inside you, hitting deep every time you slammed down.

Shaking those thoughts off, your hands slipped up his shirt, slowly pushing it up. His kisses became hesitant, pulling away once your fingertips met his perky little nipples. “W-wait Angel, my shirt…”

“What about it?” You trailed kisses along his jaw, pulling one hand away to grab his hand and place it back on your ass when he had pulled it away. “Are you shy?”

“A little… please?” He pushed at your hands, pleading up at you.

With a reluctant sigh, you nodded, moving your hands to brace yourself by his shoulders, capturing his lips again as your hand slid into his hair. “Just don’t stop touching me then.” Thankfully he listened, his hands back on your ass, kneading the flesh there as you continued to kiss him.

In an instant it all shifted, the gun you were now pressing to the side of his head the reason. You kept one in your pillow to help you sleep better at night ever since you started the undercover work, and it was a blessing once you started to suspect.

Slowly you leaned back, keeping the gun trained on him as you wiped away all signs of desire from your features. “Cut the bullshit Seonghwa.”

He too had a stone expression, eyes hard as he stared down the barrel of your gun. “What are you doing?”

“Getting answers. You know how good of a shot I am, so why don’t you just listen to what I say and you’ll walk out of here alive.”

“With Mingi right next door?” He cocked a brow, meeting your gaze.

You smirked. “Really? That’s your retort? Nothing about my morality or oath I made as a cop? But threatening me with Mingi next door? You don’t want to get the police involved in this, don’t you? Better to kill me and cover it up huh? If I’m willing to shoot you, don’t you think I’m willing to shoot him too?”

His jaw went tense, eyes flicking away for a brief moment. If you still believed that he did care for you, you might take that as a sign of remorse. “What do you want to know?”

“First-” Keeping the gun trained with precision, you grabbed his hands and pulled them up to the headboard where you had a pair of cuffs hidden. “I knew you would look good in bondage.” When he pleaded your name, you tightened the cuffs. “Don’t. You had plenty of chances to tell me.”

“Tell you what?” He insisted, seemingly unaffected by the gun as you moved down his body and pulled his shirt up. He went deadly still, your eyes falling on the very evidence you needed. Scrawled on his ribcage, were the words “Black Pirate”.

Gone was the last bit of hope, the last chance you could convince yourself that you were being paranoid and that your distrust was wrongly placed. And with it, you just snapped. Laughter boiled out of you, insane laughter like this was the funniest, craziest thing to have ever happened. “I- I can’t believe it. I was right?”

You didn’t want to be.

“Angel-” Seonghwa’s plea was cut off by the muzzle of your gun being pressed to his lips.

“No. Don’t call me that. I’m not that.” You sneered out, laughter gone. “I wanted to trust you. I did trust you. But this? The Black Pirates?? Seriously?” 

It irked you how his gaze softened, concern there like a mother wanting to comfort their hurt child. “We were going to-”

“Tell me? When? After I fucked you all? Killed someone for you? Got so deep in that I wouldn’t have any escape if- Oh my God you were huh?” You swallowed hard at that daunting realization. “You were only going to tell me when I was so far in that you had no choice. Not because you trusted or cared for me. But because you were stuck with me and once I had enough blood on my hands only then would you tell me?”

He couldn’t meet your gaze. It hurt even more.

“The team comes first, it’s our shared secret, our personal feelings don’t matter.”

With a rise of anger clogging your throat you pressed the gun closer. “You had me believe I could be part of that, but I’m not. I’m not part of the team, of any of this! You used my vulnerability over Chan against me. Took advantage of the way they just tossed me aside. I trusted you, but you couldn’t trust me? Not without…” You broke off, shaking your head and trying to clear your thoughts.

You were a detective first. You had the law to uphold. This was not the right way to do it. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself you climbed off him, keeping the gun trained on him as you patted down his body. You found a gun on a calf hostler, tossed it on the chair out of reach with his pants, patting both down for any wire or tracking device. You turned his phone off for good measure, knowing Yeosang could probably track the location.

The whole time Seonghwa was watching you with that look in his eyes that was making your blood boil, but he didn’t speak. 

With the silence it gave you a moment to think. What could you do, this was a member of the black pirates- the higher up would be pleased. But you were also aware you had no way of bringing him in alone. Your evidence was nothing more than the tattoos now and the fact Seonghwa wasn’t denying that yes, they were. It was the whole unit too, and being the department of organized crime- well they would be the ones who would normally be called in to deal with this.

But you also couldn’t just let him go. You’ve held him at gunpoint, threatened his and Mingi’s life, and you knew their secret. They weren’t going to give you a chance to get evidence against them, nor were they going to let you live for very long either. You had this one night to figure it out.

Burning the bridge with SK was now a very bad idea. You were entirely alone, and doing something reckless and stupid.

No wonder why you got transferred.

“Angel-”

You swung back around to point the gun at him again, your emotions boiling in the pit of your stomach. “Stop calling me that!”

“Then talk to me! I can’t help-”

You climbed on top of him quickly, pressing the gun to his forehead as you sneered. “Help? Why the fuck would you want to help me? Your team comes first, and I’m not part of that remember.”

“Is that what this is really about?”

“No!” Yes- screamed in your head. “The Pirates have been active long before any of you became detectives. Wooyoung isn’t even an official one, and with the way Yeosang can erase an entire person from the internet, with access to police records and sealed files, I’m sure he could make any crimes you all did just disappear. Could make me disappear.”

“And you’re smart enough that you know this entire situation only hurts you, whether I live or die.” Seonghwa attempted to reason with you, and you wanted it to work. “So let me help you. Let me go, we can go talk to Hongjoong, and we can resolve this together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You wanted, more than anything, to believe him. And you would’ve. You lowered the weapon, just an inch as you blinked back tears, only to jump into action when you noticed a shadow in your peripheral, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. You plummeted to the bed, large hands pushing your body down as the gun was tossed from your hands.

Instead a large hand was on your throat, squeezing hard enough your windpipe felt tight. Yunho stared down at you with such a murderous glare that any belief you had in Seonghwa was dashed. How could you talk it over with someone who wanted to kill you?

“Yunho! Don’t!” Seonghwa pleaded as you choked, grasping at his gloved hands to try and get him off you.

“She had a gun pointed at you so don’t give me that shit!” He snapped back, tearing his eyes away for just a second long enough for you to turn the tables. You kneed his balls and then kicked his leg to have him stumbling to the side. With a timed punch to his own windpipe you were out of his hold and rolling off the bed to grab your discarded gun. 

He was quick to recover, grumbling curses as he followed after you, grabbing your leg to pull you back on the bed. With a silent gasp of surprise, you kicked back at any part of him you could, hitting his jaw then shoulder, just to have him grab your other leg and have more leverage against you.

You managed to get the gun, grabbing it and bringing it up just as he had you on the bed again. He stilled, staring down the barrel of your gun as he held your waist down. “You reeeally want to do that, butterfly?”

The nickname brought back flashes of the club, the desire you had seen then once more in his eyes which just astonished you. He was panting, busted lip and a smirk on his features as he stuck his tongue out and licked the muzzle of the gun, daring you to pull the trigger.

He used your befuddlement against you, lifting your hips with one hand so you could feel the bulge in his pants, catching the spark in his eyes as he stared down at your throat where you knew there were bruises forming. Bruises in the shape of his fingers.

“Yunho- don’t.” Seonghwa warned again, something different about his tone this time that had you afraid of something else. They were mafia, meaning they committed crimes, killed people and probably-

You swallowed, throat sore as you tried to speak. “I’ll shoot-” It came out like a croak, much less threatening than you hoped for.

He laughed around the muzzle, tongue still playing with it like he was kissing it. “Yeah? Do it. Shoot me. Come one baby girl, you can shoot me, or you can fuck me.”

“For fuck’s sake Yunho now isn’t the time!!” For the first time since you had pulled the gun Seonghwa began to squirm to escape, attempting to at least. It would have clicked sooner in your brain if you weren’t so fixated on the way he licked the gun.

“But it is… isn’t it? You wanted us, wanted to trust us, and now that you think we don’t want that you’re lashing out. You want proof yeah? That we still want you?” Yunho’s words cut deep but-

He wasn’t wrong.

At your core, you just wanted a place to belong. No matter how well you did on the job, how many things you achieved, it all meant nothing without someone to trust. Someone in your corner. You’ve never had that, and they have given you a taste of their corner.

You wanted that. But it meant nothing unless they wanted that.

All the fight was pulled from you as Yunho flipped you over, holding your hands above your head with one hand as he ripped your panties off with the other. He was rough. Two fingers shoved into your pussy before you could even react.

“She’s so wet Hwa- fuck. You get off on the fight baby girl? Like to be choked and tossed around? I like doing that to you.” Yunho whispered in your ear, nibbling at the flesh as his fingers pumped into you roughly.

The gun was still in your hand, you could easily point it at Seonghwa to get Yunho to stop. This was wrong, he was being mean about it and yet-

With a moan you dropped the gun, instead gripping the sheets and lifting your ass for more of what he was giving you. “Told you.” He chuckled darkly, fingers removed just to get shoved into your mouth.

Even as he let go of your wrists to undo his pants, you remained pliant under him, glancing over at Seonghwa while you sucked your own juices off the two appendages. He had stilled, watching the scene before him while biting his lip.

You held his eye content as Yunho pushed his entire length into you, a raspy cry leaving your sore throat and eyes going wide. You knew how this looked, especially on paper, but you made no effort to stop it.

Not when Seonghwa looked at you with such impatient desire your pussy throbbed around Yunho’s dick slamming into the deepest parts of you. His size matched Mingi’s, and there was the drag of metal on his tip that hit all the sweet spots with you still being so tight. No pleas to stop would be coming out of your mouth, just moans and pants as you just gave in.

Yunho fucked you with such a force the whole bed shook, his hand grabbing your throat again to bend you back, the shift in angle having you cream on his dick with the lack of oxygen. You felt high, even a bit like you were going to pass out, but you latched onto consciousness like your life depended on it.

In a way, it did.

“That’s it. Maybe San was right, you are made for us. Taking my cock so fucking well- I can see it bulging out your cute tummy. See that Hwa?” Yunho rasped out against your ear, staring down your front.

Seonghwa shifting into your view was not what you were expecting, his now freed hand pressing against your stomach and hissing. “You’re being too hard on her.” Yunho must have tossed him a spare handcuff key and you were just too delirious to notice.

“The brat was acting out, I’m just- ngh fuck- putting her in her place.” Yunho’s words were now heavier, his grip on your throat different from when he was choking you earlier, this time with the intent to be pleasurable for you. Couple that with Seonghwa pressing down on your stomach where you could feel Yunho bulging it out with each thrust, you felt completely fucked dumb.

Just let them do what they want to you, because at least they wanted you. Tears sprung in your eyes, from the pleasure, pain, and raw emotion that began to surface.

Seonghwa wiped them away, now kneeling before you and cupping your face in his hands. Finally you moved your own hands, grabbing his biceps to hold on as both you and the bed rocked harder from Yunho’s growing erratic thrusts. “It’s alright Angel, we’ll take care of you.” His soft words were a harsh comparison to Yunho’s roughness.

You couldn’t formulate any words as another climax hit you, this time your vision becoming hazy as your eyes rolled back. Fucked through your orgasm, as soon as Yunho’s hips stopped their assault you blacked out, the last things you felt were hot cum filling your womb and gentle kisses on your face.

In the darkness of your mind, both warmths eluded you… drowned out by how utterly broken you felt.

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[mleighd94]

🎬 Coming Up Next on:

Pulse: House of Hearts 💖

Episode One: “First Impressions Burn the Brightest”

🎥 [Cue soft piano keys over candlelight flickers…]

Narrator (calm, romantic voice):

“Sixteen strangers. One seaside house. Thirty days. And one message each night to change everything.”

📍 [Cut to the Jeju villa: modern glass windows, ocean view, glowing lanterns at dusk]

👀 Hyunjin (confessional):

“She walked in like she didn’t care who was watching. And that’s the moment I couldn’t stop watching.”

🔥 San (whispering to Wooyoung):

“Okay, I’m obsessed already.”

Wooyoung:

“I call dibs—unless she calls me first.”

🕯️ [Montage: stolen glances across the dinner table, laughter echoing in the kitchen, candlelight catching on glass…]

Y/N (voiceover):

“I fix planes for a living. But love? That’s harder to rewire.”

🎤 Bang Chan (to camera):

“She’s not what I expected. She’s… something else.”

💌 [The screen flashes: “Who will she text tonight?”]

🌙 You (in the confession room):

“They think I’m hard to read.”

A slow smile tugs at your lips.

“They’re not wrong.”

*Do I already have too many stories going? Probably. Is that going to stop me? Absolutely not. My brain’s been on a dating show kick, and now I’m bringing that drama, romance, and utter chaos into fanfic form. Welcome to my latest obsession: a K-dating show with twists, secrets, and way too many crushes. Buckle up. 💖

[mleighd94]

🎬 Coming Up Next on:

Pulse: House of Hearts 💖

Episode One: “First Impressions Burn the Brightest”

🎥 [Cue soft piano keys over candlelight flickers…]

Narrator (calm, romantic voice):

“Sixteen strangers. One seaside house. Thirty days. And one message each night to change everything.”

📍 [Cut to the Jeju villa: modern glass windows, ocean view, glowing lanterns at dusk]

👀 Hyunjin (confessional):

“She walked in like she didn’t care who was watching. And that’s the moment I couldn’t stop watching.”

🔥 San (whispering to Wooyoung):

“Okay, I’m obsessed already.”

Wooyoung:

“I call dibs—unless she calls me first.”

🕯️ [Montage: stolen glances across the dinner table, laughter echoing in the kitchen, candlelight catching on glass…]

Y/N (voiceover):

“I fix planes for a living. But love? That’s harder to rewire.”

🎤 Bang Chan (to camera):

“She’s not what I expected. She’s… something else.”

💌 [The screen flashes: “Who will she text tonight?”]

🌙 You (in the confession room):

“They think I’m hard to read.”

A slow smile tugs at your lips.

“They’re not wrong.”

*Do I already have too many stories going? Probably. Is that going to stop me? Absolutely not. My brain’s been on a dating show kick, and now I’m bringing that drama, romance, and utter chaos into fanfic form. Welcome to my latest obsession: a K-dating show with twists, secrets, and way too many crushes. Buckle up. 💖

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Thirteen: The Breaking Point

The gym was nearly empty—just the low hum of the lights overhead and the soft thud of Y/N’s fists against the punching bag.

Her arms burned, her breath came in steady bursts, and sweat clung to her skin. But she welcomed the ache. It dulled the thoughts clawing at the edges of her mind.

Lee Know’s kiss.

The Vermilion Oath.

Dominic’s next move.

Chan’s stare that lingered too long lately.

She threw another punch, then another, harder each time.

“You should be resting,” came a voice from behind.

She didn’t stop. “I don’t need rest.”

Chan stepped into view, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re still healing.”

“I heal fast.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his frame undeniable. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m fine, Chan.”

“You’re not.”

Her fist hit the bag with a sharp crack. “You want to spar or not?”

He didn’t answer with words—just pulled off his jacket and stepped onto the mat.

⸻

The first few moves were controlled. Mechanical. Almost polite.

But it didn’t last.

Y/N moved fast, striking low and twisting into a kick. Chan blocked her easily, but there was something sharper in his movements tonight. Less calculated.

“You’re distracted,” he said, breathless.

“Says the guy who flinched when I touched his ribs.”

He grabbed her wrist. She broke free.

“Why do you do this?” he demanded.

“Do what?”

“Act like none of this matters. Like you’re untouchable.”

Y/N stepped back, fists raised. “Because if I start acting like it does, I won’t be able to keep going.”

They circled each other.

He lunged—she dodged. She swung—he caught her arm and twisted her into a pin, forcing her back against the wall.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he growled, inches from her face.

“I’ve died once already,” she spat, trying to shove him off.

His grip didn’t loosen.

“I can’t—” His voice broke. “I can’t lose someone else.”

And then—

⸻

The air between them cracked open.

Chan surged forward and kissed her—hard. There was no hesitation. Just frustration, grief, fear. Everything he hadn’t said.

Y/N froze for half a heartbeat—and then kissed him back just as fiercely. She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, anchoring herself in something real.

His hands cupped her jaw like he was trying to memorize her, like she’d slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold on tight enough. His mouth was warm, desperate, soft in contrast to the pressure in every movement.

They broke apart all at once—gasping, staring, hearts pounding like war drums.

Chan stumbled back a step, his face a mix of shock and regret.

“I shouldn’t have…”

Y/N didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her pulse roared in her ears.

He shook his head like he was trying to erase the moment. “You drive me insane.”

And then he turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving her breathless and alone.

⸻

Y/N stood in the silence, lips still tingling from the kiss, fists clenched at her sides. Her mind reeled with the force of what had just happened.

Not because she hadn’t seen it coming.

But because she had.

And now everything was different.

———-

Chan’s POV

The locker room door slammed behind him.

Chan braced his hands on the edge of the sink, chest rising and falling in jagged breaths. Rain tapped softly against the small window overhead, a pathetic contrast to the chaos swirling in his mind.

He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water over his face, hoping—stupidly—that it might wash away what just happened.

It didn’t.

The kiss still burned on his lips.

What the hell did I just do?

She’d been hurt. Fractured. Fighting so hard not to fall apart, and he—he kissed her like she was the reason he was breaking instead.

It wasn’t tactical. It wasn’t planned.

It was real.

And that terrified him.

Because Y/N wasn’t just a witness, or a vigilante, or even just a vampire with a vendetta anymore.

She was becoming his.

And he didn’t know when it had started. Maybe back at the warehouse, when she’d saved his life. Maybe earlier, when she’d first locked eyes with him like she wasn’t afraid of anything—not even him.

He gripped the edge of the sink tighter. His reflection stared back, eyes dark with something he didn’t want to name.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

Not about her.

Not about someone whose secrets could unravel everything.

But the truth clawed at him anyway.

If she dies—if she walks away—I’m not sure I’ll survive it either.

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Thirteen: The Breaking Point

The gym was nearly empty—just the low hum of the lights overhead and the soft thud of Y/N’s fists against the punching bag.

Her arms burned, her breath came in steady bursts, and sweat clung to her skin. But she welcomed the ache. It dulled the thoughts clawing at the edges of her mind.

Lee Know’s kiss.

The Vermilion Oath.

Dominic’s next move.

Chan’s stare that lingered too long lately.

She threw another punch, then another, harder each time.

“You should be resting,” came a voice from behind.

She didn’t stop. “I don’t need rest.”

Chan stepped into view, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re still healing.”

“I heal fast.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his frame undeniable. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m fine, Chan.”

“You’re not.”

Her fist hit the bag with a sharp crack. “You want to spar or not?”

He didn’t answer with words—just pulled off his jacket and stepped onto the mat.

⸻

The first few moves were controlled. Mechanical. Almost polite.

But it didn’t last.

Y/N moved fast, striking low and twisting into a kick. Chan blocked her easily, but there was something sharper in his movements tonight. Less calculated.

“You’re distracted,” he said, breathless.

“Says the guy who flinched when I touched his ribs.”

He grabbed her wrist. She broke free.

“Why do you do this?” he demanded.

“Do what?”

“Act like none of this matters. Like you’re untouchable.”

Y/N stepped back, fists raised. “Because if I start acting like it does, I won’t be able to keep going.”

They circled each other.

He lunged—she dodged. She swung—he caught her arm and twisted her into a pin, forcing her back against the wall.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he growled, inches from her face.

“I’ve died once already,” she spat, trying to shove him off.

His grip didn’t loosen.

“I can’t—” His voice broke. “I can’t lose someone else.”

And then—

⸻

The air between them cracked open.

Chan surged forward and kissed her—hard. There was no hesitation. Just frustration, grief, fear. Everything he hadn’t said.

Y/N froze for half a heartbeat—and then kissed him back just as fiercely. She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, anchoring herself in something real.

His hands cupped her jaw like he was trying to memorize her, like she’d slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold on tight enough. His mouth was warm, desperate, soft in contrast to the pressure in every movement.

They broke apart all at once—gasping, staring, hearts pounding like war drums.

Chan stumbled back a step, his face a mix of shock and regret.

“I shouldn’t have…”

Y/N didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her pulse roared in her ears.

He shook his head like he was trying to erase the moment. “You drive me insane.”

And then he turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving her breathless and alone.

⸻

Y/N stood in the silence, lips still tingling from the kiss, fists clenched at her sides. Her mind reeled with the force of what had just happened.

Not because she hadn’t seen it coming.

But because she had.

And now everything was different.

———-

Chan’s POV

The locker room door slammed behind him.

Chan braced his hands on the edge of the sink, chest rising and falling in jagged breaths. Rain tapped softly against the small window overhead, a pathetic contrast to the chaos swirling in his mind.

He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water over his face, hoping—stupidly—that it might wash away what just happened.

It didn’t.

The kiss still burned on his lips.

What the hell did I just do?

She’d been hurt. Fractured. Fighting so hard not to fall apart, and he—he kissed her like she was the reason he was breaking instead.

It wasn’t tactical. It wasn’t planned.

It was real.

And that terrified him.

Because Y/N wasn’t just a witness, or a vigilante, or even just a vampire with a vendetta anymore.

She was becoming his.

And he didn’t know when it had started. Maybe back at the warehouse, when she’d saved his life. Maybe earlier, when she’d first locked eyes with him like she wasn’t afraid of anything—not even him.

He gripped the edge of the sink tighter. His reflection stared back, eyes dark with something he didn’t want to name.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

Not about her.

Not about someone whose secrets could unravel everything.

But the truth clawed at him anyway.

If she dies—if she walks away—I’m not sure I’ll survive it either.

Taglist:

@staytinyluv

[mleighd94]

Summer on the Diamond

Chapter Six: “The Edge of Something”

⸻

San was different the next morning.

Not colder. Just… sharper.

The usual teasing was there, but the smile behind it wasn’t. The spark had gone jagged at the edges.

“You look tired,” he said as you passed him near the bleachers, voice light. “Didn’t sleep well?”

You turned, caught in his gaze — and something inside you twisted.

He knew.

You could see it in the way his eyes didn’t soften when they met yours.

The way he didn’t wait for your reply.

⸻

Practice felt wrong.

Like the team was holding its breath, waiting for someone to break the silence that had settled over everything since the festival.

San barely spoke unless he had to.

Seonghwa didn’t speak at all.

He was all orders and formality, his voice clipped and professional, even when he stood three feet from you during warm-ups.

Wooyoung kept glancing between the three of you like he was watching a love triangle in a live soap opera.

Hongjoong watched too — but quietly. The kind of watching that meant he already knew how this would end.

Mingi fumbled a catch. Yeosang was still benched.

Yunho offered you a water bottle and whispered, “You okay?” when no one else was close enough to hear.

You nodded.

You lied.

⸻

It was after practice when it cracked.

You were wringing out towels behind the dugout, half-hiding from the tension, when you heard footsteps.

You didn’t turn. You already knew who it was.

“Y/N,” San said.

You let the towel drop into the bin. Slowly. Carefully. Like if you moved too fast, everything might spill.

“Did you need something?”

He laughed — sharp and bitter. “That’s how we’re doing this?”

You finally turned.

His eyes were tired. Not red. Not wet. Just… drained. Like he hadn’t slept and didn’t know how to stop thinking about what he saw.

“You kissed him.”

You didn’t deny it.

“In the dugout?” he asked, voice cracking around the edge. “In the place we all sit? Where I watched you stretch my ankle three days ago?”

“You don’t get to be mad at me for that.”

He flinched — not physically, but in the way his voice dipped quieter.

“No. I don’t get to be mad. I just get to watch it happen.”

You swallowed.

“I didn’t mean for—”

“Don’t,” he said, too quickly. “Don’t say you didn’t mean it. I saw it.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Like he was holding back from something. Or maybe everything.

“I just thought…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “I don’t know what I thought. That it meant something? That you leaning into me was real?”

“It was real,” you said, almost too fast.

He looked at you then — really looked. And for one moment, he wasn’t cocky or teasing or flirty.

He was just San.

“I would’ve fought for you,” he said. “Hell, I was.”

The silence that followed hurt more than shouting would have.

Finally, he turned to go.

But then he paused — just long enough to leave one more crack in your chest.

“Next time you kiss him,” San said, “make sure no one else is watching.”

He walked off without looking back.

⸻

That night, you waited for a message from Seonghwa.

It didn’t come.

@remedyx

[mleighd94]

Summer on the Diamond

Chapter Six: “The Edge of Something”

⸻

San was different the next morning.

Not colder. Just… sharper.

The usual teasing was there, but the smile behind it wasn’t. The spark had gone jagged at the edges.

“You look tired,” he said as you passed him near the bleachers, voice light. “Didn’t sleep well?”

You turned, caught in his gaze — and something inside you twisted.

He knew.

You could see it in the way his eyes didn’t soften when they met yours.

The way he didn’t wait for your reply.

⸻

Practice felt wrong.

Like the team was holding its breath, waiting for someone to break the silence that had settled over everything since the festival.

San barely spoke unless he had to.

Seonghwa didn’t speak at all.

He was all orders and formality, his voice clipped and professional, even when he stood three feet from you during warm-ups.

Wooyoung kept glancing between the three of you like he was watching a love triangle in a live soap opera.

Hongjoong watched too — but quietly. The kind of watching that meant he already knew how this would end.

Mingi fumbled a catch. Yeosang was still benched.

Yunho offered you a water bottle and whispered, “You okay?” when no one else was close enough to hear.

You nodded.

You lied.

⸻

It was after practice when it cracked.

You were wringing out towels behind the dugout, half-hiding from the tension, when you heard footsteps.

You didn’t turn. You already knew who it was.

“Y/N,” San said.

You let the towel drop into the bin. Slowly. Carefully. Like if you moved too fast, everything might spill.

“Did you need something?”

He laughed — sharp and bitter. “That’s how we’re doing this?”

You finally turned.

His eyes were tired. Not red. Not wet. Just… drained. Like he hadn’t slept and didn’t know how to stop thinking about what he saw.

“You kissed him.”

You didn’t deny it.

“In the dugout?” he asked, voice cracking around the edge. “In the place we all sit? Where I watched you stretch my ankle three days ago?”

“You don’t get to be mad at me for that.”

He flinched — not physically, but in the way his voice dipped quieter.

“No. I don’t get to be mad. I just get to watch it happen.”

You swallowed.

“I didn’t mean for—”

“Don’t,” he said, too quickly. “Don’t say you didn’t mean it. I saw it.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Like he was holding back from something. Or maybe everything.

“I just thought…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “I don’t know what I thought. That it meant something? That you leaning into me was real?”

“It was real,” you said, almost too fast.

He looked at you then — really looked. And for one moment, he wasn’t cocky or teasing or flirty.

He was just San.

“I would’ve fought for you,” he said. “Hell, I was.”

The silence that followed hurt more than shouting would have.

Finally, he turned to go.

But then he paused — just long enough to leave one more crack in your chest.

“Next time you kiss him,” San said, “make sure no one else is watching.”

He walked off without looking back.

⸻

That night, you waited for a message from Seonghwa.

It didn’t come.

@remedyx

[mleighd94]

Hallowed Grove Chapter Twelve: The Breaking of the Spell

The morning never came.

The sky hung in a haze of gray, as if the sun had chosen not to rise. Mist clung low to the ground, curling around boots and tree roots like smoke from an unseen fire. The Grove, once humming with life, had gone still.

Too still.

Y/N stood at the edge of the glade, her arms crossed over her chest. Every nerve buzzed. Not with magic — but with warning.

Behind her, the others moved in silence.

Namjoon checked the wards Yoongi had etched into the trees the night before. The lines flickered — unstable, fading.

“They’re weakening,” he muttered. “The Grove’s energy is pulling inward.”

“Defensive?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon didn’t answer.

Jimin sat by the stream, unmoving. One hand hovered over the water, the other pressed to his chest. His expression was blank — but his pulse throbbed visibly in his neck.

Yoongi stood watch with Taehyung, scanning the treeline. Both were tense, like predators waiting to be hunted.

Jungkook remained by Y/N’s side, his fingers wrapped loosely around hers.

She hadn’t spoken since the dream.

But she heard it still.

“You can have the Grove. But I already have its heart.”

Her hand tightened.

He was coming.

No one said it — but they all felt it. The way animals feel a storm before it breaks.

Y/N looked toward the trees, the roots coiled and braced beneath the surface. Even the wind held its breath.

Then—

A sound.

Low. Wrong.

Like something ancient being torn open.

The treeline exploded.

Black shapes surged from the fog — hollowed beasts twisted by dark magic, their jaws gaping with unnatural screams.

The Grove erupted into battle.

The battlefield was chaos.

The Grove burned at the edges, fire licking the branches of trees older than memory. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of sea salt and scorched earth. Ragnor’s creatures surged from the shadows — twisted things born of corrupted magic, with limbs that bent wrong and shrieks that clawed at the soul.

The fairies and mermen fought valiantly.

Wings glinted with magic as they struck from above. Tails shimmered through the ruined streams as spells lit the sky in bursts of gold and green and violet. Namjoon’s trident sliced through the dark like a blade of the ocean itself. Yoongi moved like a shadow through the fire. Jimin spun, graceful even in chaos. Taehyung’s power sparked through the wild grass. Hoseok’s mind pulsed with every enemy’s intent before they even struck. Seokjin held the line — healing, shielding, commanding.

But then—

A scream.

Y/N fell.

She crumpled to the ground mid-step, a shadowy bolt piercing her side. Her body hit the forest floor hard, blood soaking through her clothes and into the dirt beneath her.

Everything stopped.

“Y/N!” Seokjin’s voice cracked, his calm shattered. He dropped to his knees beside her, hands shaking as he pressed his palms over the wound. “No—no, no, no—”

Namjoon was there in an instant, trident glowing sea-blue, jaw clenched. “We can’t lose her.”

Jungkook stumbled forward, falling to his knees opposite Seokjin. His fists trembled. His voice broke. “There has to be something we can do—”

Jin’s healing magic flared to life, golden light spilling from his palms. But the darkness within the wound twisted violently, resisting.

“It’s Ragnor’s magic,” Jin said, eyes wild. “It’s fighting me.”

Namjoon stepped forward and drove the base of his trident into the ground.

“Then we fight back.”

Water spiraled into the air around him — conjured from the Grove’s own veins. He directed it over Y/N’s body, letting it weave through the threads of golden light from Jin’s hands.

Together, they pushed back.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Jungkook knelt closer, his breath shaking.

“If there’s even a chance—”

His voice broke.

Then—he began to hum.

Soft at first. A single note.

A melody older than words, carried by memory. His voice rose, trembling but sure, threading through the magic, wrapping around Jin’s healing light and Namjoon’s ocean power like ribbon around a blade.

The air shifted.

The light blazed.

A surge of energy exploded outward, pulsing silver and blue and gold. The corrupted beasts screamed, withering into ash as the shockwave tore through the clearing.

And then—

Stillness.

The water stilled. The fire dimmed. The Grove held its breath.

Y/N lay unmoving.

The light faded from Jin’s hands. Namjoon’s trident dimmed. Jungkook’s voice fell silent.

Then—her eyes snapped open.

Glowing with golden light.

She gasped, clutching the earth beneath her as memories slammed into her — memory after memory, flooding her mind in a tidal wave of light and sound.

She remembered it all.

The wings. The sea. The magic. Their laughter. Their battles. Their love.

Her mission.

Her power.

Her death.

Her return.

And at that exact moment—

The spell Ragnor had cast shattered.

The others gasped—staggered as the wave of memory struck them.

⸻

Namjoon saw her by his side at the edge of the sea, daring him to claim the trident. Her eyes fierce, her loyalty unshaken.

Hoseok remembered the warmth of her hand grounding him when the thoughts of too many minds nearly drowned him. Her voice had always brought him back.

Jimin remembered the night they danced by the waves, her smile brighter than the moon. How her laughter had been the melody he built his rhythm around.

Jin’s chest ached as he remembered her healing him after his first battle, teasing him, scolding him for being reckless — and how, without ever asking for it, she’d become his safest place.

Taehyung saw her barefoot in the wildflower field, gold in her hair, whispering magic into his hands, telling him he was meant for more than the limits others put on him.

Yoongi remembered her quiet strength. The way she sat beside him in silence, never forcing words. The way she always knew what he needed — even when he didn’t.

And Jungkook—

Jungkook remembered her voice.

Not just singing with him, but to him. Humming old lullabies under the stars. Teaching him melodies no one else knew. Holding his hand as they stood before the silver tree the first time, and saying, “I think we’re part of this.”

He had always known.

⸻

Y/N sat up slowly, her breath shallow but steady, her hands trembling in her lap. Her body ached like it had been broken and rebuilt — because, in truth, it had.

Her eyes shimmered with gold, but behind them, something deeper had returned.

She looked at them all — one by one.

“I remember everything,” she whispered. Her voice cracked on the last word.

Namjoon dropped to one knee beside her. His trident had gone still, but his gaze was steady.

“So do we,” he murmured.

No one moved at first.

Even the Grove held its breath — the wind hushed, the trees swaying like they too remembered her.

Then Seokjin reached forward, brushing a blood-streaked strand of hair from her cheek. His hand trembled, but his smile was steady.

“We lost you,” he said, voice raw. “But we’re not losing you again.”

Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks, too fast to stop. She pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get you back,” she breathed.

Jungkook was already beside her, dropping to his knees, his hand finding hers.

“You didn’t have to,” he said. “We found you.”

His fingers tightened.

“All of us. We’re here. And we’re not letting go this time.”

The others moved closer, surrounding her — not with force, but with presence. With memory. With love.

The Grove pulsed gently — leaves whispering, flowers beginning to bloom again. Magic flowed back into the earth like a breath finally released.

The spell was broken.

The bond was whole again.

And for the first time since she had returned to the Hollowed Grove…

Y/N didn’t feel alone.

[mleighd94]

Hallowed Grove Chapter Twelve: The Breaking of the Spell

The morning never came.

The sky hung in a haze of gray, as if the sun had chosen not to rise. Mist clung low to the ground, curling around boots and tree roots like smoke from an unseen fire. The Grove, once humming with life, had gone still.

Too still.

Y/N stood at the edge of the glade, her arms crossed over her chest. Every nerve buzzed. Not with magic — but with warning.

Behind her, the others moved in silence.

Namjoon checked the wards Yoongi had etched into the trees the night before. The lines flickered — unstable, fading.

“They’re weakening,” he muttered. “The Grove’s energy is pulling inward.”

“Defensive?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon didn’t answer.

Jimin sat by the stream, unmoving. One hand hovered over the water, the other pressed to his chest. His expression was blank — but his pulse throbbed visibly in his neck.

Yoongi stood watch with Taehyung, scanning the treeline. Both were tense, like predators waiting to be hunted.

Jungkook remained by Y/N’s side, his fingers wrapped loosely around hers.

She hadn’t spoken since the dream.

But she heard it still.

“You can have the Grove. But I already have its heart.”

Her hand tightened.

He was coming.

No one said it — but they all felt it. The way animals feel a storm before it breaks.

Y/N looked toward the trees, the roots coiled and braced beneath the surface. Even the wind held its breath.

Then—

A sound.

Low. Wrong.

Like something ancient being torn open.

The treeline exploded.

Black shapes surged from the fog — hollowed beasts twisted by dark magic, their jaws gaping with unnatural screams.

The Grove erupted into battle.

The battlefield was chaos.

The Grove burned at the edges, fire licking the branches of trees older than memory. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of sea salt and scorched earth. Ragnor’s creatures surged from the shadows — twisted things born of corrupted magic, with limbs that bent wrong and shrieks that clawed at the soul.

The fairies and mermen fought valiantly.

Wings glinted with magic as they struck from above. Tails shimmered through the ruined streams as spells lit the sky in bursts of gold and green and violet. Namjoon’s trident sliced through the dark like a blade of the ocean itself. Yoongi moved like a shadow through the fire. Jimin spun, graceful even in chaos. Taehyung’s power sparked through the wild grass. Hoseok’s mind pulsed with every enemy’s intent before they even struck. Seokjin held the line — healing, shielding, commanding.

But then—

A scream.

Y/N fell.

She crumpled to the ground mid-step, a shadowy bolt piercing her side. Her body hit the forest floor hard, blood soaking through her clothes and into the dirt beneath her.

Everything stopped.

“Y/N!” Seokjin’s voice cracked, his calm shattered. He dropped to his knees beside her, hands shaking as he pressed his palms over the wound. “No—no, no, no—”

Namjoon was there in an instant, trident glowing sea-blue, jaw clenched. “We can’t lose her.”

Jungkook stumbled forward, falling to his knees opposite Seokjin. His fists trembled. His voice broke. “There has to be something we can do—”

Jin’s healing magic flared to life, golden light spilling from his palms. But the darkness within the wound twisted violently, resisting.

“It’s Ragnor’s magic,” Jin said, eyes wild. “It’s fighting me.”

Namjoon stepped forward and drove the base of his trident into the ground.

“Then we fight back.”

Water spiraled into the air around him — conjured from the Grove’s own veins. He directed it over Y/N’s body, letting it weave through the threads of golden light from Jin’s hands.

Together, they pushed back.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Jungkook knelt closer, his breath shaking.

“If there’s even a chance—”

His voice broke.

Then—he began to hum.

Soft at first. A single note.

A melody older than words, carried by memory. His voice rose, trembling but sure, threading through the magic, wrapping around Jin’s healing light and Namjoon’s ocean power like ribbon around a blade.

The air shifted.

The light blazed.

A surge of energy exploded outward, pulsing silver and blue and gold. The corrupted beasts screamed, withering into ash as the shockwave tore through the clearing.

And then—

Stillness.

The water stilled. The fire dimmed. The Grove held its breath.

Y/N lay unmoving.

The light faded from Jin’s hands. Namjoon’s trident dimmed. Jungkook’s voice fell silent.

Then—her eyes snapped open.

Glowing with golden light.

She gasped, clutching the earth beneath her as memories slammed into her — memory after memory, flooding her mind in a tidal wave of light and sound.

She remembered it all.

The wings. The sea. The magic. Their laughter. Their battles. Their love.

Her mission.

Her power.

Her death.

Her return.

And at that exact moment—

The spell Ragnor had cast shattered.

The others gasped—staggered as the wave of memory struck them.

⸻

Namjoon saw her by his side at the edge of the sea, daring him to claim the trident. Her eyes fierce, her loyalty unshaken.

Hoseok remembered the warmth of her hand grounding him when the thoughts of too many minds nearly drowned him. Her voice had always brought him back.

Jimin remembered the night they danced by the waves, her smile brighter than the moon. How her laughter had been the melody he built his rhythm around.

Jin’s chest ached as he remembered her healing him after his first battle, teasing him, scolding him for being reckless — and how, without ever asking for it, she’d become his safest place.

Taehyung saw her barefoot in the wildflower field, gold in her hair, whispering magic into his hands, telling him he was meant for more than the limits others put on him.

Yoongi remembered her quiet strength. The way she sat beside him in silence, never forcing words. The way she always knew what he needed — even when he didn’t.

And Jungkook—

Jungkook remembered her voice.

Not just singing with him, but to him. Humming old lullabies under the stars. Teaching him melodies no one else knew. Holding his hand as they stood before the silver tree the first time, and saying, “I think we’re part of this.”

He had always known.

⸻

Y/N sat up slowly, her breath shallow but steady, her hands trembling in her lap. Her body ached like it had been broken and rebuilt — because, in truth, it had.

Her eyes shimmered with gold, but behind them, something deeper had returned.

She looked at them all — one by one.

“I remember everything,” she whispered. Her voice cracked on the last word.

Namjoon dropped to one knee beside her. His trident had gone still, but his gaze was steady.

“So do we,” he murmured.

No one moved at first.

Even the Grove held its breath — the wind hushed, the trees swaying like they too remembered her.

Then Seokjin reached forward, brushing a blood-streaked strand of hair from her cheek. His hand trembled, but his smile was steady.

“We lost you,” he said, voice raw. “But we’re not losing you again.”

Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks, too fast to stop. She pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get you back,” she breathed.

Jungkook was already beside her, dropping to his knees, his hand finding hers.

“You didn’t have to,” he said. “We found you.”

His fingers tightened.

“All of us. We’re here. And we’re not letting go this time.”

The others moved closer, surrounding her — not with force, but with presence. With memory. With love.

The Grove pulsed gently — leaves whispering, flowers beginning to bloom again. Magic flowed back into the earth like a breath finally released.

The spell was broken.

The bond was whole again.

And for the first time since she had returned to the Hollowed Grove…

Y/N didn’t feel alone.

Taglist:

@welcometomyworld13

[mleighd94]

@remedyx

🎬 Cinematic Trailer Script for The Girl In Ashford Ridge

🎥 [Black screen. Faint ambient wind. Then—soft piano begins.]

🎙️ Namjoon (V.O.):

“Some people disappear quietly.

Others leave behind echoes.”

🎥 [A rooftop party: golden lights strung above. Laughter. Loren—barefoot, laughing mid-spin, disappearing into the crowd.]

🎙️ Jimin (V.O.):

“She wasn’t the loudest voice in the room.

But she was the one we all heard.”

🎥 [Snapshots:

– A napkin sketch

– A ring dropped into a mason jar

– A letter sealed with gold wax

– A melody hummed in moonlight]

🎙️ Yoongi (V.O.):

“She said she wanted something real.

Not luxury. Not legacy. Just… life.”

🎥 [Fade to: Empty coat on a chair. Her chair. Café lights dim. Music cuts out.]

🎙️ Jungkook (V.O.):

“Then one day, she was gone.”

🎥 [Scene shift: Ashford Ridge. Wind through trees. Art on brick walls. A university campus with ivy climbing its edges.]

🎙️ Hoseok (V.O.):

“Everyone forgot her.

Everyone but us.”

🎥 [Each member holding a clue. Namjoon opens a book. Jin bites into a strawberry tart. Jimin unfolds the letter. Taehyung lifts a blurry Polaroid. Yoongi sees the café sketch. Jungkook strums the haunting melody.]

🎙️ Taehyung (V.O.):

“We weren’t meant to save her.

She saved herself.

But maybe… we’re meant to find her.”

🎥 [Camera glides past a countryside café. Loren sits inside sketching, framed by soft afternoon light. Her eyes flicker toward the window—just as someone walks by.]

🎬 [Title appears in elegant serif over a watercolor sketch of the café and Ashford Ridge’s skyline.]

The Girl In Ashford Ridge

She left behind a name. They remembered who she really was.

🌸 In honor of BTS returning from their military service this month, I’ve created this new series: The Girl in Ashford Ridge.

This story is close to my heart, and I’m so excited to eventually share it with you. That said, I’ll be finishing my other three series before diving into this one fully. 💫

I have so many ideas brewing for future series, and I can’t wait to bring them to life. Thank you for reading, supporting, and dreaming with me. 💖

[mleighd94]

@remedyx

🎬 Cinematic Trailer Script for The Girl In Ashford Ridge

🎥 [Black screen. Faint ambient wind. Then—soft piano begins.]

🎙️ Namjoon (V.O.):

“Some people disappear quietly.

Others leave behind echoes.”

🎥 [A rooftop party: golden lights strung above. Laughter. Loren—barefoot, laughing mid-spin, disappearing into the crowd.]

🎙️ Jimin (V.O.):

“She wasn’t the loudest voice in the room.

But she was the one we all heard.”

🎥 [Snapshots:

– A napkin sketch

– A ring dropped into a mason jar

– A letter sealed with gold wax

– A melody hummed in moonlight]

🎙️ Yoongi (V.O.):

“She said she wanted something real.

Not luxury. Not legacy. Just… life.”

🎥 [Fade to: Empty coat on a chair. Her chair. Café lights dim. Music cuts out.]

🎙️ Jungkook (V.O.):

“Then one day, she was gone.”

🎥 [Scene shift: Ashford Ridge. Wind through trees. Art on brick walls. A university campus with ivy climbing its edges.]

🎙️ Hoseok (V.O.):

“Everyone forgot her.

Everyone but us.”

🎥 [Each member holding a clue. Namjoon opens a book. Jin bites into a strawberry tart. Jimin unfolds the letter. Taehyung lifts a blurry Polaroid. Yoongi sees the café sketch. Jungkook strums the haunting melody.]

🎙️ Taehyung (V.O.):

“We weren’t meant to save her.

She saved herself.

But maybe… we’re meant to find her.”

🎥 [Camera glides past a countryside café. Loren sits inside sketching, framed by soft afternoon light. Her eyes flicker toward the window—just as someone walks by.]

🎬 [Title appears in elegant serif over a watercolor sketch of the café and Ashford Ridge’s skyline.]

The Girl In Ashford Ridge

She left behind a name. They remembered who she really was.

🌸 In honor of BTS returning from their military service this month, I’ve created this new series: The Girl in Ashford Ridge.

This story is close to my heart, and I’m so excited to eventually share it with you. That said, I’ll be finishing my other three series before diving into this one fully. 💫

I have so many ideas brewing for future series, and I can’t wait to bring them to life. Thank you for reading, supporting, and dreaming with me. 💖

[mleighd94]

🎬 Cinematic Trailer Script for The Girl In Ashford Ridge

🎥 [Black screen. Faint ambient wind. Then—soft piano begins.]

🎙️ Namjoon (V.O.):

“Some people disappear quietly.

Others leave behind echoes.”

🎥 [A rooftop party: golden lights strung above. Laughter. Loren—barefoot, laughing mid-spin, disappearing into the crowd.]

🎙️ Jimin (V.O.):

“She wasn’t the loudest voice in the room.

But she was the one we all heard.”

🎥 [Snapshots:

– A napkin sketch

– A ring dropped into a mason jar

– A letter sealed with gold wax

– A melody hummed in moonlight]

🎙️ Yoongi (V.O.):

“She said she wanted something real.

Not luxury. Not legacy. Just… life.”

🎥 [Fade to: Empty coat on a chair. Her chair. Café lights dim. Music cuts out.]

🎙️ Jungkook (V.O.):

“Then one day, she was gone.”

🎥 [Scene shift: Ashford Ridge. Wind through trees. Art on brick walls. A university campus with ivy climbing its edges.]

🎙️ Hoseok (V.O.):

“Everyone forgot her.

Everyone but us.”

🎥 [Each member holding a clue. Namjoon opens a book. Jin bites into a strawberry tart. Jimin unfolds the letter. Taehyung lifts a blurry Polaroid. Yoongi sees the café sketch. Jungkook strums the haunting melody.]

🎙️ Taehyung (V.O.):

“We weren’t meant to save her.

She saved herself.

But maybe… we’re meant to find her.”

🎥 [Camera glides past a countryside café. Loren sits inside sketching, framed by soft afternoon light. Her eyes flicker toward the window—just as someone walks by.]

🎬 [Title appears in elegant serif over a watercolor sketch of the café and Ashford Ridge’s skyline.]

The Girl In Ashford Ridge

She left behind a name. They remembered who she really was.

🌸 In honor of BTS returning from their military service this month, I’ve created this new series: The Girl in Ashford Ridge.

This story is close to my heart, and I’m so excited to eventually share it with you. That said, I’ll be finishing my other three series before diving into this one fully. 💫

I have so many ideas brewing for future series, and I can’t wait to bring them to life. Thank you for reading, supporting, and dreaming with me. 💖

[mleighd94]

@shakespeare-in-the-park7 I’m glad you’re enjoying and hope you continue to enjoy

Hallowed Grove

Chapter One: The Glitch in Reality

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

Blindly, I reach for my phone, fingers fumbling to silence the shrill alarm. A sigh escapes me as I sink deeper into the sheets, savoring the fleeting moment of stillness before the day demands my presence.

Reluctantly, I rise, stretching as the remnants of sleep cling to me like a fading dream. The air is cool against my skin, a subtle reminder that winter is slipping away, making room for spring. I reach for the new floral dress I bought—soft pastels with delicate petals blooming across the fabric. A small indulgence to welcome the changing seasons.

Sliding on a pair of sandals, I grab a croissant, barely taking a bite before stuffing it into my mouth. Purse in hand, I hurry out the door, the morning air crisp and fresh as I make my way to the subway.

With a practiced motion, I slip in my AirPods, letting the music drown out the world. The rhythmic thrum of the train station hums beneath my feet as I wait, watching the crowd shift and flow like a living organism. I shouldn’t be late today. Scar wouldn’t be too upset. Still, I liked to get to the café early and help her open, even though she always insisted I didn’t have to. I knew she could handle it, but those leering old men who loitered outside until she unlocked the doors always made me uneasy.

Then—something flickers in the corner of my vision.

I turn, scanning the station. Nothing. Just glass windows reflecting the people waiting alongside me.

But there it is again—across the platform this time. A shimmer, like the world itself is… glitching.

I glance around, expecting someone else to notice, but no one reacts. The man scrolling through his phone, the woman adjusting her scarf, the tired worker staring blankly at the train tracks—none of them seem to see it.

My heartbeat quickens.

A third flicker, sharper than before. Then—light.

Blinding. Consuming.

The subway station vanishes.

For a moment, there is nothing. No sound, no gravity, no breath. Just an all-encompassing radiance, searing into my senses.

And then—life returns.

The ground beneath me is no longer cold tile but soft grass, damp with morning dew. The scent of earth and flowers replaces the metallic tang of the city. A gentle breeze brushes my skin, carrying the distant murmur of a waterfall.

Birdsong. Fireflies dancing in the air like scattered stars. A lake stretches before me, the water so clear it reflects the sky like glass. Wildflowers bloom in a riot of colors, their petals swaying as though whispering secrets to the wind. Towering trees surround me, their emerald leaves glowing softly, speckled with floating lights that shimmer like embers.

I turn in a slow circle, my mind reeling.

This isn’t real.

I was on the subway. I was going to work. This is a dream. An illusion.

I pinch my forearm, hard.

Pain shoots up my arm. Not a dream.

A sharp gasp escapes my lips as I flick my wrist, shaking off the lingering sting. That’s when I see it—eyes, watching me from the lake.

Deep, endless blue.

The moment they realize I’ve spotted them, a voice—smooth, rich with curiosity—breaks the silence.

“Who are you?”

I swallow, my throat dry. “I—I’m Y/N. Can you help me? I don’t know how I got here.”

The stranger pushes himself up, revealing more of his face. His long, dark hair shimmers with hints of deep, pickled blue, strands of pearls woven into the waves. Multiple pearl necklaces loop around his neck, catching the sunlight. But it’s his eyes that hold me still—dark blue, like the depths of the ocean.

His expression remains unreadable as he regards me. “This is Hallowed Grove. Home to many unique magical creatures.”

Hallowed Grove?

I repeat the name in a whisper, my gaze sweeping over the breathtaking scenery again. The way the air hums with energy, the way the water ripples despite the absence of wind—everything feels alive in a way I’ve never known.

I turn back to him. “What’s your name? You know mine—I’d like to know yours.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I’m Hoseok.” There’s warmth in his voice now, but a lingering curiosity remains. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.” His gaze sharpens slightly. “You said you don’t know how you got here. Are you… human? From the human world?”

I blink at the strange phrasing, suddenly feeling like I’m on the other side of a zoo exhibit. “Yes?” I answer, though the uncertainty in my own voice makes me wince. “I mean—yes. I’m human. Have you never met a human before?”

He shakes his head. “No. None of us have.”

Us?

Before I can ask what he means, Hoseok moves suddenly, pulling himself out of the water in one swift motion.

I gasp, stumbling back. He has a tail.

No—he had a tail.

As soon as he steps onto the shore, it disappears, replaced by long, powerful legs. My eyes widen in horror as I realize he’s completely naked.

“Oh my gosh!” I yelp, spinning around and covering my eyes, my face instantly burning.

A soft chuckle rumbles behind me. “You’ve never seen a merman before?”

“Merman?” I echo. “Like mermaids… but a man?” My voice is thin with disbelief. “I thought they only existed in fairy tales.”

“They do in your world.” His tone is amused. “You can look now—I have clothes on.”

Slowly, I turn back. Hoseok now wears a loose white tunic and fitted trousers that emphasize the strength of his legs. My eyes trail over the way the fabric clings to his muscular thighs before I realize what I’m doing. My cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink.

Another chuckle.

“Who is your friend, Hoseok?”

The new voice is warm, playful, carrying an almost musical lilt. I look over my shoulder to see a man with golden-blonde hair, an apricot-colored tunic, and brown pants tucked into laced-up boots. Flowers rest on his shoulders, and flecks of glitter catch the sunlight on his cheeks and collarbones.

And he’s flying.

“Tae, this is Y/N, the human,” Hoseok says dryly. “Y/N, this is Tae.”

Tae glides toward me with effortless grace, taking my hand in his own. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, his gaze never wavering from mine.

“It’s lovely to meet you, sweet surrender.”

My breath catches. The pet name lingers in the air between us like a spell.

Hoseok groans. “She doesn’t know how she got here. I was about to take her to Namjoon.”

“Ah, wise choice. If anyone knows how to return her home, it’s him.” Tae releases my hand, flashing me one last dazzling smile before flying off into the trees.

I watch him disappear, still reeling.

Hoseok extends a hand. “Come on. Let’s find Namjoon.”

I follow him down a winding path until the lake becomes a river, flowing into what looks like a bayou. Fireflies dance above the water as crickets hum in the distance. Hoseok stops at the shore.

A figure emerges—broad-shouldered, holding a golden trident.

Namjoon.

And when he speaks, his words send a chill through me.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you get back to the human world.”

A beat of silence.

I stare at him. “Why not?”

He meets my gaze.

“Because I’m the reason you’re here.”

@remedyx Thank you so much for the title picture artwork banner, and thank you for putting up with me and looking over the story. 

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Twelve: Fractures in the Dark

The mausoleum was cold even after they left it behind.

The stone corridors, the ancient sigils, the weight of the Vermilion Oath pressed down on all of them—especially her.

Y/N barely felt the ground beneath her boots as she stalked ahead, the others’ voices dull murmurs behind her.

She needed air. Space.

Away from their questions, their eyes. Away from the weapon humming against her very existence.

She shoved open a side door into the crumbling courtyard, the night heavy with mist and silence.

And of course—

Lee Know was the one who followed.

He stepped into the mist behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

They stood apart for a moment, the cold breath of the night between them.

“You going to tell us why you looked like you’d seen a ghost back there?” he asked, voice cutting through the dark.

She didn’t turn around. “You don’t want my answers, Lee Know. You just want someone to blame.”

“I want the truth,” he snapped. “We risked everything to find that thing, and you—” He broke off, fists clenching at his sides. “You knew something. You’re still hiding something.”

She turned then, slow and sharp, eyes flashing crimson for just a second in the dark.

“What do you want from me?” she hissed. “An apology? A confession? You want me to say I’m the monster you all suspect I am?”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened. “I want you to stop pretending you’re alone in this.”

The words hit harder than any blade.

And maybe it was the fear from the mausoleum.

Maybe it was the crack the Bloodstone had already put in her heart.

Maybe it was Lee Know’s stubborn, infuriating refusal to look away from her even when she was at her worst.

But Y/N moved before she could stop herself.

She crossed the space between them in a flash—hands grabbing the front of his jacket, fisting the fabric—and kissed him.

Hard.

Lee Know froze for half a heartbeat.

Then he kissed her back, just as rough, just as desperate.

Teeth clashing, breath stolen between them, the mist curling around their bodies as if trying to hold them there.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t clean.

It was fury and fear and longing wrapped into one impossible moment.

And just as suddenly as it started—

Y/N pulled away.

They stood there, chest to chest, breathing hard, the mist thick around them.

Lee Know’s eyes were wild, confused, dark.

“What was that?” he rasped.

Y/N stepped back, breaking the contact, shaking her head as if trying to clear it.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

A lie too thin to cover the shudder in her voice.

Before he could stop her, she turned and slipped back into the night, leaving him standing there, heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to break free.

And for the first time in a long time, Minho didn’t know if he wanted to chase after someone—or run the other way.

By the time Y/N returned to the others, her hands were steady, her face calm.

No one would know what had just happened in the mist.

No one except Minho.

And Minho was doing a terrible job of hiding it.

He rejoined the group stiffly, keeping a careful distance from her. His eyes flickered to her once, sharp and unreadable, before darting away again.

Chan noticed first.

He was scanning the team, assessing injuries, when his gaze snagged on Minho—and the tension rolling off him like a storm cloud.

His frown deepened when he glanced at Y/N, who was unusually quiet, her crimson eyes shuttered.

Something had happened.

Something he hadn’t been part of.

And he hated the way that thought settled in his chest, heavy and ugly.

“You two okay?” Chan asked casually, too casually.

Minho grunted, tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders.

“Peachy.”

Y/N said nothing. She just turned away, pretending to check the edge of the mausoleum wall for exits.

Hyunjin caught it too, but his reaction was different.

His eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, a flash of something fierce behind them. He wasn’t stupid. He remembered the way Y/N had kissed him—not just for comfort. Not just for survival.

And now she was keeping secrets again.

From all of them.

Felix, always the peacemaker, broke the tension. “We should move before Dominic’s scouts realize what we found.”

Chan nodded, but his eyes lingered on Y/N and Minho a second longer than necessary.

And inside, something twisted.

Because he didn’t just want her safe anymore.

He wanted her to look at him the way she clearly had just looked at someone else.

And for the first time, Chan realized—

He was already losing.

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Twelve: Fractures in the Dark

The mausoleum was cold even after they left it behind.

The stone corridors, the ancient sigils, the weight of the Vermilion Oath pressed down on all of them—especially her.

Y/N barely felt the ground beneath her boots as she stalked ahead, the others’ voices dull murmurs behind her.

She needed air. Space.

Away from their questions, their eyes. Away from the weapon humming against her very existence.

She shoved open a side door into the crumbling courtyard, the night heavy with mist and silence.

And of course—

Lee Know was the one who followed.

He stepped into the mist behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

They stood apart for a moment, the cold breath of the night between them.

“You going to tell us why you looked like you’d seen a ghost back there?” he asked, voice cutting through the dark.

She didn’t turn around. “You don’t want my answers, Lee Know. You just want someone to blame.”

“I want the truth,” he snapped. “We risked everything to find that thing, and you—” He broke off, fists clenching at his sides. “You knew something. You’re still hiding something.”

She turned then, slow and sharp, eyes flashing crimson for just a second in the dark.

“What do you want from me?” she hissed. “An apology? A confession? You want me to say I’m the monster you all suspect I am?”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened. “I want you to stop pretending you’re alone in this.”

The words hit harder than any blade.

And maybe it was the fear from the mausoleum.

Maybe it was the crack the Bloodstone had already put in her heart.

Maybe it was Lee Know’s stubborn, infuriating refusal to look away from her even when she was at her worst.

But Y/N moved before she could stop herself.

She crossed the space between them in a flash—hands grabbing the front of his jacket, fisting the fabric—and kissed him.

Hard.

Lee Know froze for half a heartbeat.

Then he kissed her back, just as rough, just as desperate.

Teeth clashing, breath stolen between them, the mist curling around their bodies as if trying to hold them there.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t clean.

It was fury and fear and longing wrapped into one impossible moment.

And just as suddenly as it started—

Y/N pulled away.

They stood there, chest to chest, breathing hard, the mist thick around them.

Lee Know’s eyes were wild, confused, dark.

“What was that?” he rasped.

Y/N stepped back, breaking the contact, shaking her head as if trying to clear it.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

A lie too thin to cover the shudder in her voice.

Before he could stop her, she turned and slipped back into the night, leaving him standing there, heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to break free.

And for the first time in a long time, Minho didn’t know if he wanted to chase after someone—or run the other way.

By the time Y/N returned to the others, her hands were steady, her face calm.

No one would know what had just happened in the mist.

No one except Minho.

And Minho was doing a terrible job of hiding it.

He rejoined the group stiffly, keeping a careful distance from her. His eyes flickered to her once, sharp and unreadable, before darting away again.

Chan noticed first.

He was scanning the team, assessing injuries, when his gaze snagged on Minho—and the tension rolling off him like a storm cloud.

His frown deepened when he glanced at Y/N, who was unusually quiet, her crimson eyes shuttered.

Something had happened.

Something he hadn’t been part of.

And he hated the way that thought settled in his chest, heavy and ugly.

“You two okay?” Chan asked casually, too casually.

Minho grunted, tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders.

“Peachy.”

Y/N said nothing. She just turned away, pretending to check the edge of the mausoleum wall for exits.

Hyunjin caught it too, but his reaction was different.

His eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, a flash of something fierce behind them. He wasn’t stupid. He remembered the way Y/N had kissed him—not just for comfort. Not just for survival.

And now she was keeping secrets again.

From all of them.

Felix, always the peacemaker, broke the tension. “We should move before Dominic’s scouts realize what we found.”

Chan nodded, but his eyes lingered on Y/N and Minho a second longer than necessary.

And inside, something twisted.

Because he didn’t just want her safe anymore.

He wanted her to look at him the way she clearly had just looked at someone else.

And for the first time, Chan realized—

He was already losing.