#The longing haunts me and every time I see Chanyeol I’m reminded of how much I want the tattoo hnnnn

[jenmyeons]

Crush Culture

moodboard credit to crush culture’s biggest fan @kyungseokie​ <3 

Pairing: kyungsoo x female reader Summary: Turns out drunk-dialing your crush in the middle of the night isn’t as bad as you initially thought.

Word count: 1620

Author’s note: what was supposed to be a drabble turned into a lot a little more but this is hopefully the fluffiness you were seeking jae! can’t believe i’m taking a fluff request from the queen of fluff herself @j-pping​ this is wild 

A dragged out ‘Kyungsoo~’ greets him over the line when he in his disoriented sleepy state answers the phone with a grumble.

The sound of your voice with the unmistakable drunken slur immediately has him perking up as he leans in squinting, trying to make sense of what ungodly hour of the night or morning it is. In the end, Kyungsoo gives up and instead asks why he’s the one at the receiving end of your drunk dialing. 

“I- I just-” you hiccup while trying to get the words out. “I just missed you so, so, so, so, so much. Why didn’t you come with me and the tall ones out for drinks, Kyungsoo~?” 

Kyungsoo’s brows draw together in confusion. “The tall ones… do you mean Chanyeol and Sehun?” 

The answer he receives is an almost incomprehensible one but he thinks he makes out a yes. Relief. At least you’re in somewhat good hands, Kyungsoo thinks to himself.

“Where are you? Are you still with the idiots?” He asks, worry lacing his still sleep-heavy voice. 

“No, no, no!” You interject. “They left for this… this… I don’t know,” you relent at last and Kyungsoo can feel his stomach sinking at the thought of you out by yourself without a sober cell in your body.

“I wanna go home” There are sniffles heard now and Kyungsoo sighs with defeat, you always were an emotional drunk. 

“Tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up,” there is no hesitation in his statement and before you’ve even replied with a vague description of your whereabouts, Kyungsoo already has a pair of sweats on, heading for the door without bothering with a jacket. He quickly slips his shoes on and walks out of the apartment with determination in his step.

The drive from Kyungsoo’s home isn’t very far from your location and he is relieved to see that you followed his simple instructions to stay where you are while he makes the drive to pick you up. 

You’re seated at the sidewalk with your high heeled shoes taken off and discarded to the side, forgotten, as your knight in shining armor pulls up with his sleek car a few meters away. In the time since Kyungsoo ended the call with you in order to concentrate on his driving, you’d managed to at least somewhat sober up the slightest bit. The lack of alcohol fogging your brain quickly reminds you of the predicament you’ve put yourself in; drunk dialing long time friend and crush in the middle of the night, forcing him to come save you from what could otherwise end in disaster, had you actually stayed out in the middle of the night all alone.

The door of the driver’s side opens and a disheveled and unfairly good looking Kyungsoo appears in your line of sight. Looking good despite being rudely awakened at an ungodly hour should be illegal, you think to yourself. 

Without much more than a greeting and a ‘how are you feeling?’, to which you answer with an unconvincing ‘fine’, Kyungsoo pulls you up from the sidewalk and steers you over to his car. 

The vehicle smells like him is all you can think as you buckle your seatbelt in silence. As if every little thing doesn’t already remind you of him. His own natural scent along with the faint hint of his cologne feels like it will consume you and you can’t wait for this drive to soon be over. Streetlights pass by in a blur and Kyungsoo’s soft humming to whatever tune is playing on the radio and fatigue takes you over. The alcohol starts wearing off and with Kyungsoo’s angelic voice, you’re quickly lulled to sleep. 

Your soft snoring reaches Kyungsoo’s ears and he steals a quick glance at your sleeping state, head resting against the window, passing street lamps fleetingly lighting up your features and he thinks you look a lot younger while you’re sleeping. As quickly as he takes his eyes off the road to look at you, Kyungsoo tears his gaze away from you to focus on the task at hand. He contemplates for a while if he should make the long drive to your own place across town but decide against it as he feels a yawn separating his lips. Blinking away the fatigue which starts to once again cloud his eyes behind his thick rimmed glasses. His right hand itches to release the steering wheel and instead grab your left one which rests on your thigh. Not wanting to cross any boundaries, Kyungsoo grips the wheel a little stronger and tries thinking about something else. Anything other than how your fingers would feel intertwined with his.

The car coming to a halt in front of the familiar building of Kyungsoo’s apartment and the gentle shaking of your shoulder pulls you into consciousness. It takes a minute or two for your disoriented brain to connect the dots of your whereabouts and you send Kyungsoo a questioning look.

“I don’t trust that I can drive you all the way home without falling asleep at the wheel,” he explains softly and you know deep down that he probably doesn’t mind, he wouldn’t have picked you up otherwise, yet the need to apologize still takes over.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him sincerely and feel the warmth of a blush spreading through your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have called you this late.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’d rather you wake me up in the middle of the night than going home all by yourself.”

Not sure what to say so you just nod and open the car door. The chill of the night air making you shiver while still being refreshing in contrast to the stuffy air inside the car.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea once we get inside,” Kyungsoo states casually, walking around the car to lead you towards the entrance of the building. Your feet slightly unsteady from a night of drinking and wearing heels.

True to his words, the first thing he does when the two of you get inside is turn the kettle on while you settle on one of the stools by the kitchen counter. Kyungsoo works in silence, only asking what kind of tea you want and you feel strangely out of place in your friend’s home. Unsure whether it’s due to the embarrassment of drunk calling your crush or the suffocating quietness but the atmosphere is making your brain malfunction. You observe how he with a familiar comfort shuffles around the kitchen, heart thumping against your rib cage as you imagine how it would be to see this on a daily basis. How lucky you would be. 

Then Kyungsoo looks at you as he places the teacup in front of you and the last bit of liquid courage leaves your system in five daunting words.

“I’m in love with you.” 

Your right hand instantly flies up to cover your mouth as soon as the words that have haunted you for years are spoken into existence. You watch with dread as Kyungsoo’s round eyes widen in shock, his mouth falling agape and the regret of your confession comes creeping, burning your cheeks and neck. 

After an eternity of regret and furious blushing on your part, Kyungsoo finally breaks the quiet.

“Come again?” 

“Please don’t make me say it again,” you plead with tears of embarrassment threatening to spill as well as a thickness building in your throat, awaiting the rejection which you’re sure will come.

In a weak attempt at gathering yourself, turn away from the intense stare of Kyungsoo’s gaze - needing to focus on anything other than the man holding your heart. 

Kyungsoo, normally calm and collected can feel both his mind and heart racing from the words of the confession which still hang in the air. Waiting for him to say something - anything really. However, all words have left him and he stays rooted in his spot. The moment he has been dreaming of finally arrives and like a dumbass, he can’t even tell you he loves you too. He is so deeply in love to the point where he wonders if anyone has ever sparked such feelings in him before you. Probably not. 

Your stressed out state and the way you turn your head to look away from him seems to do the trick as his hands move to cup your face at their own accord, forcing you to look back at him. There’s a fragment of a moment where Kyungsoo hesitates as he leans in before his lips lock with yours. 

Instinctively, your hands find purchase at his waist - pulling him closer by the fabric of the worn out t-shirt you’re sure he only ever wears to bed. The kiss deepens at the slight tilt of Kyungsoo’s head and your mouth works against his until the lack of air becomes overbearing. As you pull apart, his hands stay firmly where your neck meets your ears, rough thumbs stroking gently at your cheeks.

“We’ll talk more about this in the morning,” he manages to make out breathily after several moments of silence. His gaze then flickering down to your forgotten teacup on the counter. “For now, just drink your tea then let’s go to bed.”

How he manages to keep up a cool exterior is beyond him and the smile playing at your lips makes his heart race wildly, making him steal a chaste kiss before settling down beside you, playing with your free hand as the two of you chat about anything other than the elephant in the room while you drink your tea. 

You can definitely get used to this.

[yehet-me-up]

Frozen North ~ Night Four

PAIRING: Chanyeol x reader

GENRE: Horror/Suspense/SPOOP in general/light romance (because who else would I be?)

WORD COUNT: 2,164

RATING: PG13 (nothing gruesome, but knowing me there will be swearing)

SUMMARY: You run a late night radio show dedicated to telling scary stories and urban legends, the creepier the better. Listeners call in and share their own, creating a small but loyal community of folks like you who love this sort of thing. One night, a man calls in with what sounds like an all-too-real story and before you know it, you’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe.

Frozen North Masterlist

You and Yoora agree to meet up for coffee on campus before your first class of the day. The winter morning is icy cold and you bundle yourself up in your North Face parka, knit beanie, and gloves and head off for the cafe at Suzzallo.

She looks almost exactly like her photos - perfectly groomed bob of shiny black hair, high cheekbones. A nervous smile plays on her lips as she looks around the room, clutching her mug of coffee. You give her a small wave and thread your way through the mass of students and she sags with relief.

'Thank you so much for meeting me,' she starts before you've even sat down.

You take off your hat and gloves and shove them in your bag, pulling out your phone and placing it face up. There's not been a second in the last few hours that you haven't had it close. Sleep didn't come easy, in fits and spurts. Wild dreams tormented you, of Chanyeol and what he was going through. 

How you wished you could reach through the phone and pull him into the warmth and safety of your bed.

The thought makes you blush in the heat of the cafe. 'Of course, I want to help.'

Yoora pulls out her own phone and shows you the call log. 'I've been trying him for days. We just had lunch on Sunday. Monday he didn't answer which, knowing how he works like a man possessed, isn't unusual. By Tuesday I was worried and by Wednesday I knew something was wrong.'

You nod in agreement. 'The first call on Tuesday sounded almost like a joke or, I don't know, a new twist on a story. It would hardly be the strangest thing that's happened on my show.' You unlock your phone and look through the call log. 'He called me before that, actually. But I didn't think anything of it.'

Her brows pull together. 'Really?'

Turning it so she can see you point out the FaceTime call that came through just before you started on Tuesday. 'Yeah, it's weird - I don't know Chanyeol. Even though we both go to U dub we've never crossed paths.'

'Why on earth would he be calling from an Alaska number?' she asks, distraught. 'What is going on here?'

You sigh and rub your forehead. 'I could try calling him, see if it goes through? I've tried a lot over the last few days. It seems there's no predicting when he'll call. He never answers.'

Yoora nods. 'You go first, with your Alaska number. Then I'll try his cell. If neither go through, I'm going to the police.'

Dread curdles in your stomach and you agree. Hitting the call button, you squeeze your eyes together and pray that this is all some sort of horrible dream. But it rings, endlessly like always, before giving the same message about a voicemail box.

With a shake of your head you watch Yoora do the same. She chews on her lip, looking as haunted and sad as you feel. After a minute she hangs up. Looking resolved, she slides her phone back into her purse. 

'I'll let you know what happens. Thank you, for letting me know. The recordings will help I'm sure.' She reaches across the table and rests her hands on top of yours. 

'The show is on at eight. I'll have my phone with me the whole time. If something happens, I'll be there.'

With a nod she grabs her still-full coffee and strides off. 

For long minutes you sit there, spinning your phone around on the table. The noise in the cafe is endless but you don’t hear it. All you can think about is this man who came into your life, who feels connected to you by the thinnest of ropes. But it matters. Even if you don’t know why, he matters more than anything.

Determined, you stand up. With a grunt you knock into someone standing right behind you. A male voice curses softly. When you turn to apologize you gasp, embarrassment turning your cheeks red.

‘Professor Langford? I’m so sorry,’ you start.

He gives you a friendly wave and shakes his head, gesturing to the coffee spilled across his wool coat. ‘It’s nothing, truly. I should have been looking where I was going.’

You grab some napkins from the condiments station and hand them to him. He good-naturedly blots at it and gives you a reassuring smile. But there’s something off. Tension radiates off him, a nervous energy that makes you step back, bumping the back of your chair.

‘What are you doing in this fine cafe today?’ he asks, a hungry look in his eye.

Swallowing, you try to not let your confusion show. ‘Just meeting a friend for coffee.’

He scans you up and down, assessing. ‘You seem upset, is everything alright? Is this thing with Chanyeol getting to you?’

Something dangerous hovers in the air, an unease you can almost taste. ‘Why do you ask?’

Professor Langford blinks, coming back to himself. He coughs and dabs the coffee once more before balling the napkins and depositing them in the trash can next to him. When he faces you again he seems almost like himself. 

‘Just curious, that’s all. It is my area of interest, after all,’ he says with a half smile.

‘Yeah, you’re right.’

He gives you an awkward nod. ‘Well, see you in class.’

You stand there and watch as he hurries out of the cafe, pushing out into the light snow that falls in Red Square. With a shake of your head you carry on with your day.

The text you’re hoping for finally comes in while you’re walking to your last class of the day.

Yoora 3:47PM: the police won’t do anything You 3:47PM: oh my god, really? Did you play them the recordings? Yoora 3:47PM: yes, i was there for hours. They say it’s nothing conclusive. That he’s 27 years old and there’s nothing but our word to say there’s something wrong with him You 3:48PM: unbelievable Yoora 3:48PM: hopefully he’ll call in tonight. I can’t take much more of this. You 3:48PM: he will. I know it. We’re going to figure this out

An anxious energy eats away at you as you bustle into the station. Plans, questions, anything you think might help all swirl in your mind. Maybe someone will call in who knows him? Maybe he’ll be able to tell you where he is?

Suse gives you a sympathetic hug when you swap out at the turn of the hour. ‘No luck?’

You sigh and run your hand through your hair. ‘Nothing. His sister and I met up and tried calling again. No answer. She took everything to the police and they refuse to help. They said there’s not enough evidence.’

‘What the fuck.’ She looks to the ceiling, hesitating and chewing her lip. ‘Okay I have an idea. It might be nuts but-’

‘I’m desperate Suse,’ you say, holding her shoulders. ‘I’ll do anything. I know in my gut this is real.’

Something she sees in your face convinces her and she nods, pulling out her phone. After shooting off a text she slips it back in her purse. ‘He’ll be here in twenty.’

‘Who will?’

She leans in and whispers. ‘Jimmy’s sister had this sketchy ass boyfriend who kept calling and harassing her so he downloaded this program that traces calls. It’s not exactly… legal. But I think if your Chanyeol calls in tonight we should be able to get it hooked up to the computer and figure out where he is.’

You nearly crush her you hug her so tight. ‘Oh my god, Suse. I don’t even - that would be incredible.’

She hugs you back before smacking your butt padded by your parka. ‘Don’t thank me until we find him. Now get in there, you have a show to run.’

It takes some convincing before Daniel allows Jimmy to set up his laptop in the listening booth, but eventually he caves. He wants this resolved as badly as any of you. For over an hour you and Jimmy wait anxiously while you attempt to carry on your show as normally as possible.

Several people call in saying they wish they could help with Chanyeol. A few people know him - from class, from the underground rock scene in Seattle, from various jobs over the years. No one has a bad thing to say about him and you wish over and over that you could hear his voice again. That you could see him in person. You wonder if he lives up to the hype, something within you says that he will exceed it.

When the calls taper off you transition to your prepared content. Two people call in with snippets from stories they’re working on. You do a piece on the rumored Thirteen Steps to Hell in Maltby, Washington’s cemetery. When you wrote it you felt the familiar thrill in your veins. Of excitement. Of wonder. Of fear, licking up your spine and reminding you of the terrifying and unknown myths and legends of the world.

But now, in the cold studio with your cell phone clutched in your hand, it doesn’t feel anything like you’d planned. The only thing you feel is afraid and full of want. For relief and for this to be over and for him to be safe.

Through intermission and on into the usual Friday open hour discussion on favorite international urban legends your phone is deadly silent and you want to scream and throw it at the wall. Suse and Daniel in the booth give you tight-lipped smiles and nods of encouragement whenever you turn to them, dread inhabiting your stiff movements.

But just before the end of the night, at 11:45, your phone buzzes.

CHANYEOL WOULD LIKE TO FACETIME

‘Fuck -’ you say on the air, trying to hit the accept button with frozen shaking fingers.

Jimmy does his best to recover as well, unplugging his link from the computer and pulling out an iphone cord from his bag. Frantically you lift the phone to your ear and motion for someone to come take over the mic while you answer. Suse bustles into the room and says something about taking a break.

You hardly hear her. Every atom of your being leans towards the phone, grasping for a sound - his voice, wind, wolves, anything.

‘Chanyeol? Are you there?’

A scuffling comes through and then: ‘I’m here.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ you practically sob.

Hands brush against yours where it holds the phone and then Jimmy sits back, giving you a thumbs up. He types frantically on his computer and Suse breathes against your other ear, resting a reassuring arm over your shoulder.

‘How are you?’

He grunts. ‘It’s so cold here. I feel like I’m losing myself. It’s so dark and I just - all I dream about is ice. And wolves. Red eyes. Blood. I just want to be warm.’

You ask him the first question that comes to mind, anything to keep him on longer, to bring him back to himself. ‘What’s your favorite Radiohead song?’

‘Radiohead...? How did you know I like them?’

‘It’s a long story, Chanyeol,’ you sigh. ‘Tell me, please.’

‘I guess… Creep. Definitely my favorite.’

You smile. It’s yours as well. That spark of energy in your chest ignites again. Something like fate and just as insistent. ‘Why do you like it?’

More shuffling. ‘I like how I feel when I sing it. I need words, lyrics, to know how I feel. It’s the only language that makes sense to me sometimes.’

‘I know what you mean,’ you says softly, looking around that the booth. In the cocoon you’ve built from the world over the past few years.

‘What’s your favorite?’ he asks, the low rumble of his voice crossing your skin all the way through the phone, wherever he is.

‘Mine is-’ you start, but your words are interrupted.

‘Enough!’ someone says near the phone. A female voice this time.

Chanyeol grunts and you hear a crash. The line goes dead and you want to scream. The silence in the room is so pervasive and heavy you can feel the air vibrating. Jimmy next to you is still and you nervously look at him.

‘Anything?’ Suse asks, saying the words you can’t bring yourself to.

He nods, unable to look away from the computer. ‘You’re not going to believe this. It’s coming from fucking Seattle. Three blocks from here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging @yeoldontknow​ @enthusiastt​ @itskindofafairything​ @gogh-suck-it​@nshitae​ <3

[prettywordsyouleft]

Sage

Summary: Chanyeol had gone to the extremes of warding off the spirit living in his new apartment. What he wasn’t ready for was just how adamant you were to stay.

Pairing: Park Chanyeol x reader

Genre: ghost au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Welcome to the first story in this week’s Haunted theme! This scenario is part of the Frightful October series this month. For more stories in this series, please check the Masterlist below.

Word count: 2674

[Frightful October Masterlist]

Throwing the blankets over his head, Chanyeol hoped this would muffle out the sounds around his apartment. It was fruitless; ever since he had bought his home there had been no way to get a decent night’s sleep. The pattering of feet across the tiles, the opening and shutting of doors, the humming - it would go on all night long. 

Chanyeol would be more understanding if he had a roommate. Or a pet that was allowed to roam freely around the home. Yet he had neither. It was just him in this brand new apartment.

Oh, and a ghost too.

He had figured the place was haunted about two weeks into living here. He had eliminated all the more obvious conclusions, making sure the doors and windows were latched closed before going to sleep, checking in to see if there was any possibility of an infestation of some kind, asking neighbours on the floor above if they were up late at night, and even replacing brand new light bulbs and batteries in appliances - you name it. 

You know, the more plausible reasons for noises around his home. Everything was new for a reason, and he was beyond exhausted from trying to rack his brain for an answer. 

It was from this sheer exhaustion that he found the cause of his night time interruptions. Now desperate, he threw his arms out and shoved the blanket off of his head, whining unattractively due to his lack of slumber. Eyes wide yet miserable, he stared at the ceiling in distaste. “I just want to sleep, would you stop it?!”

He hadn’t been this frustrated with his wording when he first figured it out. Instead, he had been tentative, almost chiding his sleep-deprived brain for even entertaining the idea. And yet, Chanyeol had sat up in his bed, chewing his bottom lip hesitantly before uttering the pressing question. “Is someone there? Knock three times if you are.”

A knock happened as soon as he was silent. Ears listening, a second and third soon followed and he had screamed, leaping up and running out of his apartment, going over to Baekhyun’s in the neighbouring complex and refusing to come back until the morning sun dispelled any chance of shadows. 

He had spent more than enough time hiding out in his friend’s apartment that the purchase of his new home seemed pointless. And it was with that mindset that he was back, now annoyed more than anything else. How dare a spirit come and make themselves at home in his newly built apartment! He had worked all too hard for this place, and he wasn’t prepared to give up without a fight.

The noise only stopped momentarily, perhaps now listening for what he would do next. Instead of the usual humming or running around out there, his mouth fell apart at what he heard now.

A melodic laugh. 

His unwanted guest was now mocking him.

Chanyeol managed to get some sleep into the early hours of the morning, though it wasn’t nearly enough to start his day out with. Even with copious cups of coffee, he was unable to be as productive as he hoped to be at work. Though he was definitely wired on his way home. This didn’t come from the coffee, however, but from what he planned to do.

He wouldn’t allow his haunting spirit to continue driving him out. After all, they didn’t pay rent or even respect his much-needed hours of rest. So he would get them to leave instead. 

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, he walked over to his kitchen countertop, placing down his bags of supplies. For some reason, perhaps because he had established he wasn’t living here alone, he knew he was in the company of his unwanted guest immediately and smiled brightly.

“Time to make this place spirit-free,” he proclaimed confidently, feeling somewhat manic with how excited he was to try all the things he had read online to do.

First, he took to sprinkling salt along the windowsills, ensuring to even do so in his spare bedroom. He then lit an incense stick he had picked up from the store he had gone to for advice after finding out about their services online in his Google search of warding off evil spirits. The clerk had also suggested some cleansing crystals and Chanyeol placed them around his apartment, hoping he had chosen the best spaces to do so. Admittedly, he was feeling a little out of his depth now. Although he had been actively soaking up the advice he received and was willing to do anything, when he got to the final element of lighting up a bunch of sage to smudge around the apartment, his confidence faltered a little. Why was he even doing this? He felt stupid, waving it around now with less enthusiasm. Desperation had led him to this point, but now he wondered if he was just going crazy instead. That there was no spirit keeping him up at night, just an overactive imagination. He was easily frightened, so had he simply scared himself into believing someone was there? That the knocks were something he so badly wanted to hear irrationally or not that he had conjured them himself? Chanyeol grew confused, holding onto the sage mid-air and zoned out with his problematic thoughts.

“Careful,” someone said, and he blinked softly, head tilting towards the warning. “You might burn yourself.”

Shrieking in realisation, Chanyeol pointed the bunch at the apparition before he passed out from the shock.

When he came around, you were staring back at him, your expression concerned. He blinked slowly, wondering if he was actually awake or not. In the evening light, you didn’t look scary at all. Your long tresses fell around you like a halo, and your smile made you seem kind, approachable. Your hand was on his gently and you knelt beside him, knees against his waist. 

It was then he realised just how cold he was. 

“You’re not real,” he murmured and you pouted sadly, your smile evaporating.

“That’s not very nice to say to someone who’s sat beside you all this time. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell. Do you know how hard it was for me to drag this pillow over here for you to rest upon?”

He glanced to the edge of the pillow his head was now placed on and then chuckled. “If I hit my head, then you’re definitely not real.”

“Yet you acknowledge my existence every night,” you retorted, your cherry coloured lips now pursing together with amusement. “You’re a hard human to please.”

Slowly sitting up, Chanyeol glanced at you properly. He noticed the aura of light surrounding you, that along with the coldness of your touch, distinguished you from the living. You were his problematic guest. 

He had to admit, he hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful. 

“What were you even attempting to do? Are you foolish? It looks like you were tricked into buying a whole lot of unnecessary stuff.”

“I’m trying to get rid of you,” he breathed heavily, and you snorted which irked him immensely. Beautiful or not, if you were the spirit causing him to miss out on sleep, he needed you to leave peacefully.

“Well, you’ve gone about this all in the wrong way,” you told him thoughtfully, pointing to the windowsill. “Salt?”

“It keeps evil spirits out.”

You nodded whilst smiling. “It also keeps whatever is already inside here. Shouldn’t you put that up when I’m gone? That being, if I was actually evil.”

He didn’t answer you, though you did smile wickedly with that last part. You then moved over to one of the smoky quartz stones on his bookcase and admired it. 

“That works against negative energies,” he explained and you grinned.

“Hopefully yours will ease up then,” you remarked with a giggle and he gaped at you, connecting it to the one he had heard last night. You turned to Chanyeol, still smiling. “It’s really pretty though. Is that Frankincense?”

He nodded, albeit weakly. You seemed well-versed in these wards. 

“And finally the sage,” you announced, picking up the bundle he had once held. He stared at the floor where it still remained, or at least a bundle did. You admired the one in your hand and then held it out towards him. “I really love sage. It reminds me of my Grandmother. Did the lady at the store tell you all this would get rid of me?”

Chanyeol rubbed at his temples and groaned. “Shouldn’t it?”

“Sure, if I was a bad spirit. But I’m not so it doesn’t affect me. Well, the salt does. It means I’m trapped here, with you. Spirits can’t cross over it after all.”

“You’re not bad?”

You shook your head adamantly. “Do I look evil?”

“You look beautiful,” he breathed, ears now turning pink. Chanyeol then shook off his daze. “Which could be a trap.”

“If I was evil, would I really bother myself with something so trivial as enjoying a home? It was so cold on this lot until they built us a new place.”

“Us?” he repeated and you nodded. “There’s more of you?”

“Well, not in this apartment. This is where my home was once. But Old Maggie is down the hall and Frank is up two floors. There’s even a whole family downstairs!”

Chanyeol vaguely remembered the rumour that a fire had happened here ten years ago. He hadn’t lived in this city then, and there was an overwhelming hush whenever it was raised between residents. He realised now that his new home was once someone else’s. You nodded dramatically. “That’s right! You’re actually a guest in my home. Or maybe, we’re roommates. I like that. In fact, I’ve been using your spare room. It’s nice and quiet in there.”

He snorted at your preference for peace. “It’s not quiet for me.”

“About that,” you eased into it, becoming apologetic. “I’m not quite used to living with someone else. I tend to be a night owl, even when I was alive.”

“You’re telling me, you’re not being a nuisance on purpose but out of habit?”

Clasping your hands together you laughed awkwardly.” Originally, yes.”

“But…”

“Now, I’ve been a little wicked. It’s just that you’re so adorable when you get annoyed! You puff up your cheeks and look much like a child. It’s rather amusing given how tall you are, Chanyeol.”

He wasn’t even ready to question how you knew his name and left it down to being a ghost. You smirked at his avoidance and waited for him to continue. “You’re teasing me on purpose?”

“Well, you asked if I was there and I told you I was. And then you left. You know, it was rather rude of you. I was hoping we could have a proper introduction and-”

“But you’re a ghost and I’m... and I think I’m going insane.”

“I’m Y/N,” you announced brightly, holding out your hand. “An introduction is better late than never. And I doubt you’re going insane, though perhaps if the shoe was on the other foot and I found a handsome stranger in my home, I would question my sanity as well.”

Chanyeol glanced around the room, wondering whether he should laugh or cry. Instead, he got up and made his way down the hallway to his bedroom, climbing under his blankets. You had followed him precariously, your face riddled with worry as he moved around after hitting his head. Before he closed his eyes, he gave you a stern look. “I want to sleep without any interruptions. Can you do that?”

“I no longer need to prove my existence to you so you won’t have to worry about that. When you wake up, you won’t ignore me, will you?”

Chanyeol smiled, nodding in agreement before closing his eyes. 

He hoped this was all a dream.

When he woke up the following morning, Chanyeol felt well-rested. He hadn’t stirred to anything overnight and the house was still silent even now. Smiling, he sat up and admired his bedroom and the morning light infiltrating through the blinds. He was certain you were gone. A beautiful nightmare that had now left and allowed the sun to shine through into his life. He rejoiced with a long stretch before getting out of bed, padding over to the door and across into his bathroom. Washing the sleep off his face, he then looked up into the mirror, smiling happily to himself. 

“Someone had a good night’s sleep,” you enthused and he shrieked, dropping the razor he had just picked up from the counter. Spinning around, he found you grinning at him in the doorway. “Or the crystals are working well on levelling out the negativity in your mood.”

“You’re still here?!” 

You nodded, now offended. “I held up my part of the deal, now you have to adhere to yours. Acknowledging my existence matters to me.”

“Y/N,” he called and you smiled all too happily, stunning him with how lovely you appeared. Shaking off his stupor, he then sighed. “You can’t live here with me.”

“Why not?”

“Well, shouldn’t you be moving on or something like they show in the movies?”

You shrugged. “I’ve tried that but it looks like I’m Earthbound. I don’t mind it, really.”

“Well, I do.”

You fell silent, and Chanyeol was surprised by how guilty he felt. Turning, he reached out for you on instinct, his hand brushing through you and feeling a drop in temperature. He sighed. You stared at him, unblinking and took in a shaky breath. “Try again.”

“Try… touching?” he questioned and you nodded feebly, balling your hands up as if it would give you the might for him to connect with you. Now feeling sheepish at trying to touch a spirit, he attempted again half-heartedly, gasping noisily when he actually caught your arm. “Wait, how... can I do this?”

“I’m not sure really, but I don’t like it when people go through me. It makes me miserable. I’ll try to be quiet at night as long as you accept me here during the day.”

“Well…” he started, your gaze now pleading with him. It was ironic how far he had come in such a short span of time to now be considering the feelings of someone who had been such a nuisance to him all this time. Knowing the reason why softened his heart some and he nodded without too much thought. “We’re roommates?”

You reached out rapidly for his hand and shook it much to his disbelief. “Oh, I’m so glad you accept me! We shall be the best of roommates! I promise I’m not all trouble! I like to clean and will try my best to help you out, although it does take a lot of effort for me to reach into your realm. Much more than you reaching into mine!”

He stared back at you dumbfounded, trying to take it all in. How you could exist, how he could see you now. How you had the ability to pick up copies of things in his home and they still sat where he left them. It was confusing the longer he thought about it. 

Your hand connected coolly with his cheek then and you smiled brightly at him. “Let’s just take it slow, shall we?”

“Slow would be good,” Chanyeol agreed, his heart thumping with your hand on his face. He started to worry that since he had entertained the idea of sharing his home with his now-friendly ghost that he would accept the more obvious attraction he had for you as well.

Taking in a deep breath as you prattled on about leaving him to shave and do manly things in peace, Chanyeol nodded to himself. 

He’d take one day at a time. And if you liked the sage, well, you couldn’t be all that bad.

Perhaps he would find some good from your haunting after all.

_________________

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[youxidol]

ｖａｍｐｉｒｅ!ｅｘｏ ｒｅａｃｔｉｏｎ: mate’s death

Minseok:   

Minseok was a peaceful and quiet vampire, but because EXO was on the hitlist of a coven of dark witches, he was at risk. He thought that they would come after him, injuring him for a short while, but he’d fully recover. He never expected the hit to go onto you.

A perfect spring date was ruined by the coven placing a curse on you through a potion in your drink. A curse that would slowly and painfully make you waste away right infront of your partner. 

The moment he realised a curse had been put on you, he had the Red Velvet coven give you everything possible to try and stop it, but in the end it overpowered everything. 

He carried you to the bed, hoping you would get some sort of comfort so you could pass peacefully. The action failed and you still writhed in pain, trying everything to get the feeling to leave you alone for just a second. 

He made no effort to move when he heard your heartbeat finally stop, staying curled up with you surrounding him, a position he would stay in until he was forced out of it by his clan.

Junmyeon: 

Junmyeon had always been passionate about you staying human for as long as possible, wanting you to enjoy everything he never had the chance to. As time went on, you slowly aged; it was something he never noticed. You were still you, and he still adored you. 

To celebrate turning 200, you asked him to take you to the beach that you spent most of your days on when you first met. He happily planned it and took you, just as excited as you to go back to where things started between you. 

His hands help onto your tightly, helping you sit down on the sand before he wrapped you with the thick wool blanket you had been depending on alot recently. 

Your aged body had to lean against his for support as you watched the horizon together. Memories of your life together flooded your head while your eyes watched as the sky changed with the sunset. 

The prince kept his eyes on you, his own smile coming onto his lips once he saw yours. You stayed like this until the stars lit up the dark sky, your body slowly relaxing more and more into his as you peacefully took in your final minutes of life.

His lips pressed to your grey hair and his arms pulled you closer to him upon hearing your heart came to a stop. “Thank you for letting me love you.” 

Yixing:

Your death had happened so quickly. One of the newborns Yixing was tutoring snapped at your smell and drained you of your blood and life, leaving you limp infront of the prince. 

He rushed you to somewhere private and sent his venom into your system, biting several parts of your body to get as much of it inside you as possible so you could transition. 

Everything he had planned was cancelled in favour of spending time by your bedside. He spoke of all the things you’d do together once you woke up, but as the days went on, he grew silent, simply holding and kissing your hand. 

He entered the room on the day that marked your second week, hoping to find you sat up and bombarding him with questions about what happened. The scenario that played in his head about this moment was ruined when your body was in the same position he left it, this time with your skin pale and ashy, a sign that he had failed.

No grudge was held against the younger, their thirst was something they couldn’t control, but his inability to save you and teach would be something that would haunt him for the rest of his lonely life. 

Baekhyun:

Baekhyun was a playful soul, always wanting to cuddle, play fight, and be touchy with you. Sometimes he completely forgot how powerful he was and how fragile you were. 

Like every other night, he greeted you at the door, a wide grin on his face and eyes sparkling with love. “Welcome home!” he bounced on his feet, watching you shed your coat and shoes. Once you were done, his arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing you close to his body. 

The crack of your spine was covered by the sound of the squeals he emitted, happy to see you again after the tedious few hours you spent apart. When he pulled away, your body dropped to the floor, making him think you were pranking him. 

“Very funny,” he beamed, kneeling next to you on the floor, hands moving to your waist, ready to tickle you out of your act. 

It took him a minute to realise that you weren't putting this on, the giddiness leaving his body immediately. “Y/N?” he frowned at the lack of heartbeat. 

He took no time to gather you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your hair as he let the tears of guilt and pain run down his face.

Jongdae: 

Jongdae adjusted his tie for what felt like the millionth time, earning a chuckle from the owner of the cafe in which he was waiting for you. It was out of character for you to be late, so he decided to call you to see if there needed to be a cancellation. 

“Hello?” the voice that greeted him wasn’t yours, sending panic through his body.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“The owner of this phone? They’ve been involved in an accident.” 

The ambulance speeding past the cafe erased any thought that you were pulling some kind of joke. He rose from his seat and rushed out of the cafe, following the emergency vehicle. 

He made it to scene in seconds after, eyes finding your body surrounded by worried people. Even though he wanted to bring you into his arms and have everyone leave, he knew the paramedics were needed, so he stood to the side, watching them examine you. 

He pushed his way to walk by your covered body while it was being taken into the ambulance. “That’s my partner,” he frowned, looking between the two. 

“I’m sorry,” one of them spoke up. “Would you like to ride in the ambulance with them?”

He didn’t answer. He just set off running. He didn’t care who saw, he ran until he reached the perfect dark alley. He couldn’t stand being there. We everything reminded him of you. He slid down the decaying wall of the building, staring blankly ahead, unable to shake off the numb feeling.  

Chanyeol: 

Protecting you had been Chanyeol’s number one task, making him completely neglect everything else. You finally got to reunite, something you both daydreamed about and played over in your heads. 

His hollowed cheeks managed to pull up into a smile as you entered the room. “Long time no see, baby,” he held his arms out for you to walk into. 

His appearance caused you to drop your bag and roll up your sleeve, offering yourself to him so he could get back to his normal self.  

“Thanks,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pressing soft kisses to the skin like always before he sunk his fangs into you. 

He was surrounded by you, enjoying your smell, your feel, your aura after being separated for so long. This euphoric trance he was in made him completely miss your safeword and your pleas for him to stop. He continued to drink from you until the delightful sound of your heart faded into nothing and your body collapsed onto the floor with a thud. 

The noise snapped him out, making him realise what he had done. “Baby,” he breathed, mentally praying you were just unconscious. He knelt next to you, ear pressing to the chest that he had just robbed of a heartbeat. He fell back against the bed, his body erupting into loud sobs. 

Kyungsoo:

The hospital was a place that was too much for Kyungsoo. Too many smells, sounds and feelings that made him feel dizzy, but he pushed through it to be by your side. 

Your condition wasn’t improving, even after being given every possible treatment, leaving you bed ridden and dependant on heavy pain relief to get through the day. The doctor had told him to prepare for your passing, which he predicted to happen within the next week. 

He entered your room quietly, trying not to wake you up. While you were asleep, you looked peaceful, which was something he couldn’t bare to change. 

“I brought your favourite,” he whispered, setting the plastic tub down on the bedside table before leaning to press his plump lips to your forehead gently. Cold. He pulled back, fingers coming to press against your neck, trying to get a pulse. 

The dizziness left him, everything was silent as he leaned down to pepper your skin in kisses and whisper a slurred mess of “Thank you” and “I love you.” He couldn’t cry. He knew that wherever you were now was being kinder than this world had been, that you no longer had to suffer and that within the next few weeks, he’d be joining you. 

Jongin: 

You were snatched from right under Jongin’s nose. He thought he had left you somewhere safe, but the younger clan that targeted you had a strong scent tracker and found you within days, holding your hostage in an untouched building. 

The clan managed to find and surround the building, ready to attack at his say. 

“He’s here,” he heard a voice say, causing him to tense up. “He brought his friends.”

“Kill them,” the snappy order triggered him to rush inside, trying to get to you. He wasn’t fast enough, your bloody and bruised body slumped over in the chair, your heartbeat gone, the vampire behind it stood next to you, smirking proudly at his work. 

Rage filled him, making him use his last few moments as a vampire to wipe out everyone in the room. 

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed as he came to kneel infront of you, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I failed you. I hope when we meet again you can forgive me.”

Sehun: 

Sehun’s hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze as he lead you through the grand halls of the palace to the throne room where his parents waited. 

“Breathe. Everything will be okay,” he leaned forward, connect his lips with your cheek before pushing open the door to the grand room, exposing you to his parents for the first time. 

“Mother. Father,” he greeted, bowing his head before turning to gesture to you. “This is my mate. Y/N,” he spoke proudly, moving his hand from yours to wrap around your waist. 

“Human?” the queen frowned, eyeing you up and down. “Did you forget what we taught you?” the two rose from their thrones to approach you both. You saw your partner’s posture change from the corner of your eyes, shoulder slumping slightly. 

You were separated from eachother, his father pulling you to the centre of the room, inspecting you closer. 

“Don’t,” the prince begged, trying to push past his mother to get to you. 

The queen gathered her prince into her arms, holding him in place as his father took you from him with a swift snap of your neck. 

“It’s for the better,” his mother soothed, stroking his hair when his body went limp against her. 

[yeoldontknow]

Hero: 10

Author’s Note: apologies for this going up so late. i’m finally back from vacation and am tired, and jet lagged. i’m trying to get back in the routine of things, so please be patient with me! i hope you enjoy this political PCY chapter! i had so much fun writing the voices and personalities of all the members, omg. enjoy! Song for this chapter: See Birds (Moon) - Balam Acab Genre: Vampire!Chanyeol; horror; thriller; drama; suspense; eventual smut Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Rating (this chapter): R (for the overall atmosphere) Warnings (this chapter): none Word Count: 4,197

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CHANYEOL

When he was young, he called it the War Room.

Perhaps at such a young age, he should have found himself mesmerized by the size and the grandeur of such an imposing space. Perhaps, he should have been more interested in the conversation and the way war lord voices were brought to the open here, resulting in the neatness with which these men went to and decided on battle. Or perhaps, most important of all, the way each man had a voice that was finally, truly allowed to have a freely offered opinion. 

But all he could concentrate on was how the room was saturated by the scent of death.

Crafted entirely out of metal, iron, and steel, the council hall was initially meant to represent the infallibility of making a united choice, of considering the concerns of every general present, but, to Chanyeol, something inside the room was decaying. At first, he thought it was because he was young and inexperienced with the nature of the hall, but the more his Sire ushered them in, the more he knew the choices made within the confines of the walls meant someone would not survive. Always, there was an agreement on the length of someone’s life and always, it was Chanyeol’s hands that would up rip out their heart. Always, it was Chanyeol’s mouth that would drink them dry.

And so, he called it the War Room. And so, he was punished.

As a boy he was free with his mouth and his tongue, letting words roll into the atmosphere with little thought or care. So when his Sire heard the statement, when his Sire heard the blatant disrespect, he set about a punishment that left Chanyeol bleeding, aching, and begging to die for weeks. And while he never vocalized the thought again, it did little to change his perception.

Even now, standing in the room he finds his chest feels pressed and constricted under the pressure of thought and action. His breathing is tense and tight, body trapped in a perpetual state of abject shock. The sound of rubber boots resonating through the council hall never ceases to amaze him, the way the steel and metal of the walls eats the panic in the footsteps and swallows their echoes whole. He can count on one hand the number of times they’ve had to open these doors since he became Sire, and perhaps this is why he is never used to the sound or the symbolism. Always, he grits his teeth at the sound of chairs being dragged from the circular table. Always, his generals keep their eyes lowered, unable to look one another in the eye in these moments of entry, shielding themselves from the implication and the heaviness of grief.

They keep their eyes low, but Chanyeol admires the way they enter. He can see it from his position at the back center of the room, how their postures remain tall and straight. When they lower themselves to their seats, each engraved delicately with their own crest, they sit with an elegance found only on those ready to greet hell with open arms and hungry mouths. Once seated they settle into the idea of death and find comfort in it, allowing them to raise their heads and regard Chanyeol with a preparedness that reminds him of why they were all chosen. He selected these men, watched them and longed for them because of their strength and their skills, and found that he had sworn loyalty to them before their blood had ever passed his lips.

They regard him now, like always, with clenched jaws and guarded eyes. It is necessary and both painful to speak, and he finds himself inhaling with a rattle to his lungs. And while he is unmoved and unaffected by the deaths of others, standing in the room and bringing words to the atmosphere forces him to acknowledge that the future may hold several empty spaces at this table. Standing in the room forces him to imagine eight phantom limbs amidst his countless others.

At the sound of his inhale his generals turn their eyes to him, each iris and pupil swimming with unprecedented conviction. They sense something is amiss and are preparing to protect each other, and Chanyeol, at the cost of their own lives, but still, they cannot possibly know how grave their situation has become.

‘I’d like to start immediately,’ he begins, tongue dry and fighting against the movement of his lips, ‘but I am grateful for all of you.’

His generals say nothing, merely nod slowly in mutual agreement. A few sounds of fidgeting move throughout the room, a slight discomfort at the lack of tradition serving only to put some members further on edge. Usually, there is an oath to keep what lies in the room secret. Usually, blood promises are sworn over chests to keep strategy within the room safe. But Chanyeol doesn’t think either of these things seem to fit, not today when everything he knows about being a Sire is going through a tremendous upheaval, and so he bypasses tradition in light of their non-traditional circumstances.

‘There are two things I’d like to bring to your attention this morning,’ he continues, finally allowing himself to sit. His body feels tense and old as it settles in the seat, and he knows it is because his bones are tired of keeping his secrets. ‘The first, and he shall be honoured for this, Jongin has discovered evidence of a mole within our brotherhood.’

Bodies press their backs into chars, and Chanyeol imagines if these had been made of wood the hall would be noisy with the movement. For a while no one dares to speak, they simply bring their eyes to Jongin who shifts rigidly beneath their curious, slightly furious, stares. There’s a rage coursing through his body, visible only from the tensing of his muscles and shoulders. It threatens to pull out his fangs and thrust them into the open, turning him from Jongin to Kai, the war lord persona coming to life beneath his skin. The air ripples around him, blurring beside him like waves of heat hovering over hot tar, as the room fills with sirens and sounds of a distant place; Jongin brings them the world while he grapples with control.

‘Do we know who it is?’ Kyungsoo says finally, hoping to ground Jongin in the council by the sound of his voice.  

‘His visage is blurred from our CCTV footage,’ Jongin replies, shuddering through the air to shake the world away. ‘It appears his skill is phasing.’

‘What was the trajectory of movement?’ comes Junmyeon’s even voice. Always curt and to the point, he cares only for fact and result, and has little patience for the excess found in between. His finger impatiently taps the barrel of his gun as he waits for an answer.

‘From the training hangar to the left perimeter bank.’

‘Then we can cross-check who signed into the room with CCTV time codes and start there,’ he concludes.

A concurrent hum fills the room and Chanyeol finds himself nodding minutely, though unable to meet the eyes of his men.

‘Preparations are already in motion for an attack from within,’ he states, finger pressing on the metal table. He briefly becomes distracted by the lack of his fingerprint marks and again finds himself marveling at how he leaves to residue of heat. Standard, he knows, but still, even at his old age, he always finds it surprising.

Murmurs fill the room and for a moment it sounds as though Sehun is going to offer his opinion, but Chanyeol interrupts him knowing that this information, as upsetting as it is, was not and is not the reason for the meeting. He hates to interject, feeling rude for silencing his newest general but, if he does not say the words now, he fears he may keep the news to himself before it is too late. 

‘This is not the reason our meeting is called,’ he announces loudly, and only raises his eyes to his men when true silence attempts to steal the air from the room. ‘It has come to my attention that our human companion is a Reader.’ 

Humanity never considers the heartbeat, never truly considers the thing that keeps them alive and pink and full. Humanity never considers the heartbeat, but vampires do. To a vampire, a heartbeat is thunder. It comes rumbling through the air on the wind, filling every space with its rhythmic trembling. It is impossible to avoid and it is impossible to ignore. Lately, the coven had been filled with the sound of Hero’s heartbeat, bouncing off walls and penetrating locked doors in an effort to be heard and loved and tasted. Lately, because of Hero, Chanyeol had been considering the heartbeat more than he had in centuries and, now, he thinks if his men had heartbeats of their own, they would have ceased.

Hardly anyone dares to breathe or speak, they simply let the words push and press on them, mold them into men they aren’t used to being. With a Reader in their midst, they start to feel vulnerable and mortal, and are forced to consider choices they had to make when their skin broke easier and when their wounds bled faster. Immediately, they come to see her as a great undoing and view time as something less than eternal. Immediately, their eyes move to Jongdae who does not bother to look back. As small as it is, Chanyeol is glad he told Jongdae this news in privacy on the roof, as the pressure of each gaze would slowly cause him to unravel and submit to an urgent sort of despair. Here, now, it is only the control of his features that falters. Murderous and ravenous for blood, Jongdae simply scowls at no one but the grim past that haunts him. 

‘A Reader,’ Baekhyun says, breaking the silence. It is neither a question nor an affirmation, just a statement of fact and reality. His voice is low as he says the words, and it almost sounds as though no one was truly meant to hear it, but there is no marvel to his voice, no awe or surprise. The lights in the room dim slightly before reverting back, and it is only then that Chanyeol understands how Baekhyun truly feels: he’s already imagining his brothers dead.

‘I come to you all for council and input on how this is handled,’ Chanyeol says, looking everyone in the eye in the hopes of preventing further distractions. ‘Her presence affects all of us.’

It’s swift, the movement of their shoulders as they gather themselves and put their thoughts away in favor of action and planning. 

‘Does she know her nature?’ Minseok asks, leaning forward with a grimace as he places his Beretta M9 on the table.

‘She does.’

‘Then she will have questions,’ Minseok says, looking at the rest of his brethren. ‘Perhaps we should start there, by not refusing her answers.’

With a sigh, Chanyeol sits back in his chair and adjusts his position, suddenly aware of his own gun pressing against his thigh as he moves. ‘She already has many questions, far too many, and I imagine more will come once she sees her clothing in the wardrobe.’

‘How ungrateful and stupid would one have to be to not know that was meant to aid them?’ Jongin’s voice is sharp and piercing, cutting through the air with a bitterness not usually found on his tongue. In his effort to not become Kai, his words have taken the shape of razor blades.

‘I think in a way we all wanted to help her,’ Yixing says, his words both calm and delicate, and it’s very clear he is using his power to soothe his brethren. Sitting rigid in his chair with his hands folded tightly together, much unlike his usual relaxed posture, he’s dividing his energy between calming the emotions and focusing on his words. ‘Pieces of us knew she was a Reader from the start, we just couldn’t have been aware or didn’t want to admit it to ourselves.’

It takes Yixing great effort, Chanyeol can tell, to ease a group of nine men back into politics, but somehow he manages it. There’s a warmth to the air, a sweetness similar to the scent of lavender that relaxes each man and forces their guard back to a sort of neutrality. Typically, this is dangerous, but here and now, it effectively recenters the men and even allows Chanyeol to consider Hero without imagining a bullet hole in the center of his heart.

The only man who seems immune to this healing wind is Jongdae, and he remains alarmingly still in his chair as Chanyeol eyes him in his peripheral. The conversation must remain delicate, the further they plunge into the topic the more visceral Jongdae’s memories are bound to become. Chanyeol can tell Yixing is aware of this, and watches the way he focuses on him with an unwavering gaze.    

‘Knowing this, shouldn’t we be open with her?’ Kyungsoo suggests, as if such a thing were simple and obvious. Again, he lets nobility and righteousness take hold of his actions before allowing himself to consider the slicing of his own throat. ‘If she has questions they must be answered. It’s our duty to honor her.’ 

‘Perhaps bring her to this meeting?’ Baekhyun says, adding quickly to Kyungsoo’s suggestion. ‘We would be able to guide her through this.’

‘I’m sorry, are we suddenly forgetting that she’s a weapon?’ come Jongdae’s biting words as he slaps the table with his flat palm. As if expecting this reaction, seemingly no one flinches at the sound, though their attention is now trained on him. ‘True, our honor and respect will be given to her, but are we forgetting it will be done likely without our consent? We have no choice to honor her because she is death itself. We cannot forget she is an omen. She will be the one dictating who lives and who dies, and her inclusion instigates our actions - it’s already happened, don’t you see?’

As he speaks, the words gain speed and volume until he’s nearly shouting. He’s being burned alive just by the idea of a Reader, and Chanyeol reaches out a hand to rest on his shoulder. 

‘Calm yourself, brother,’ he says, gently though he knows it will have little result. ‘We are still far from our fate.’

‘I’ll not apologize for being the only one considering how lethal she is.’

As Jongdae speaks, his voice becomes two fold as it harmonizes with the low baritone of a war lord. Keeping his power regulated means the release of other pieces of fury, darker, more bloodthirsty pieces that allow Chen to slip through and paint his vocal cords red. His hand that rests on the table suddenly tenses, fingers and nails dragging along the metal in silence as Jongdae struggles to remain whole.

‘No one is saying they aren’t,’ soothes Yixing. ‘We simply -’

‘If she wills us to die I pray that mine is first blood spilled,’ Chen roars, and this makes Yixing rush to Jongdae’s side, his fingers wrapping around his throat with alarming force. The physical contact has an immediate effect on Jongdae, and all at once he slumps back into his chair with a choked gasp.

‘Say such a thing again and I will have you removed from this council,’ Chanyeol says, the voice of his own war lord echoing against the walls. It blooms out from his chest, making him feel warm and relieved, the tone taking with it all the things he’s kept suppressed against his better nature. He knows it’s the room that makes both he and Jongin struggle to remain whole, but he knows it’s the memories that make Jongdae dissolve and willing to set Chen free.

Jongdae nods and twists his neck to crack the joints, releasing a smooth exhale as he attempts to focus.

‘All do respect, brothers,’ comes Yixing’s small yet strong voice as he walks back to his chair. ‘Her will to fight and survive strong enough that I suggest we take precautions. Within a day, she had already looked into my mind. There’s no telling how she will advance now she knows her nature.’

‘She grapples with it,’ Chanyeol clarifies, wiping his brow though there is no sweat or residue to remove, the action alone bringing him a sort of comfort under duress. ‘She has yet to fully accept it, but is true. I found her in front of the halfling cage. She’d looked into their minds and was able to See. It may not be long until we are at her mercy.’ 

‘May I also remind everyone she has yet to be turned,’ Sehun says, relaxing into Yixing’s power with a casual, almost languid posture in his chair. ‘Any power she may have is limited until she’s turned.’

‘It’s true,’ concedes Minseok, spinning his gun on the table and watching it rotate. To anyone else this would appear disrespectful, his sideways posture and seemingly distracted focus giving him the air of bored malcontent, but Chanyeol knows this is simply how Minseok relieves his tension. ‘She won’t truly be able to sway any battle until she’s dead.’

‘Then we still have time,’ Junmyeon advises, leaning back and straightening his suit jacket with a cough. ‘If I may suggest, we should deal with the mole first. If the Reader has questions, we will answer them but we cannot fully integrate her until we know the immediate threat has been handled.’

‘I agree.’ Sehun says with a nod.

‘I second,’ Minseok echoes, with a slightly bright tone, his war lord seemingly under perfect control. ‘Handling her and her questions too soon will only serve as a distraction to us. We run the risk of being vulnerable.’

‘Third,’ comes Jongin’s voice, Kai having disappeared from his voice altogether.  

Raising his fist to cover his mouth as he clears his voice of his war lord, Chanyeol coughs slightly as he straightens his back.

‘It’s important we recognize the motions of war,’ he begins, voice stern and serious, ‘that the Reader and the mole are consequences of the same reality.’ 

He trains his eyes on every general in the room, keeping his gaze on them for several seconds before moving onto the next as he attempts to make his point known.

‘Jinsoo has been planning war against us far longer than the enaction of our deal,’ he continues, allowing the words to settle in the room with purpose and emphasis. Saying them this way, in front of all his men inside the War Room, makes the reality he’s been toeing unfathomably undeniable. ‘There’s no telling how long the mole has been with us, and it is likely this that has placed the Reader in our grasp.’

‘Should we not be grateful she is with us then?’ Baekhyun says slowly, his mind putting the words together as he speaks. ‘If she’s with us we have immediate access.’ 

Chanyeol releases a low hum and nods, only to furrow his brow and remind the members of his original plan. ‘I admit, I had planned to use the Reader as our own mole, however it is no longer in our best interest to send her from where we need her most.’

‘We still should,’ Baekhyun concedes and quickly adds, ‘we’d have information from the other side, far more than any their mole could glean from us.’

‘The choice to participate should be hers,’ Kyungsoo says cooly. ‘We cannot force her. We need to earn her trust and include her. Only then will she truly return to us.’

‘It feels wrong to me,’ comes Yixing’s slightly anxious reply. Shaking his head as he speaks, he continues. ‘Discussing this without her here. Are we not already attempting to influence her fate?’

‘This is exactly what I was saying,’ Jongdae says fiercely. ‘We are already dancing around her existence as though she influences every action of this coven.’

‘I agree,’ Sehun says, sounding slightly bored. ‘If she were anyone else, we wouldn’t be hesitating to use her.’

‘If she were anyone else, she would already be dead.’

‘The reality is that she isn’t just a human,’ Junmyeon offers, cutting through the conversation with his eyes still focused on his gun. ‘She is a Reader, and ignoring her nature makes us careless and complacent.’ When he brings his eyes to the others, he is cold and hard and impatient for action. ‘From what Chanyeol is telling us, war has been a foot far longer than we are admitting to ourselves. Acknowledging she is a Reader, though an unforeseen obstacle, gives us the upper hand. Gentlemen, it’s all about perspective.’

‘Thank you, Junmyeon,’ Chanyeol says, grateful for his decisive nature. ‘And inaction at this point means eternal death for us all.’

‘We know what will happen if we send her over,’ Minseok asserts. ‘Jinsoo won’t be able to stop himself, he’ll immediately feel the pull. We’ll lose her before we’ve even had the opportunity to use her.’

‘That’s precisely why we need her trust,’ Kyungsoo says quickly, tapping the table with his gun and smiling at the sound. ‘If Jinsoo feels the pull, she will walk him to his death if her allegiance is already decided.’ 

‘And how do you suggest we earn her trust?’

‘It has to start with me,’ Chanyeol says, regarding his reflection in the table. There, he looks slightly blue and less of a man and more of a fantasy, someone with colder eyes and the pallor of death to his skin. For a moment, he sees it as a premonition before shaking the thought from his mind. ‘I’m the one most affected by her power, it’s designed for me. The only way to earn her trust is to surrender to it.’ 

‘Sire, she will make you vulnerable,’ Baekhyun says delicately, hoping to neither instigate Jongdae nor remind Chanyeol of how willing he will be to oblige to her will.

At this, Chanyeol nods and his voice takes on the cool tone he’s used to lacing through his words. ‘And that is why I’ll need you all to remain steadfast in in your stations. I want training hours bumped up by three hours, minimum. We should also restock our supplies of holy water. Sehun, how is the armory?’

‘Fully stocked at the moment,’ he says with a wide smile, pride overtaking his features. Since his arrival, the armory had become his nest, taking to ammo and daggers as one would take comfort in their mother’s arms. ‘Twelve rifles are out for cleaning at the moment. I have a shipment of explosives coming within three days.’

‘Excellent. And blood?’ 

‘I strongly advise we acquire more,’ Yixing suggests, a pressure to his words not usually seen in regular circumstances. ‘We’ve been patient enough and I have a lead on a different supplier.’

‘Coordinate with Jongdae,’ Chanyeol advises, the routine focus on strategy and tactics easing him back into the role of Sire without the anxiety of possibilities and omens. ‘I want everything at full capacity within four days, if we can manage it. Money, at this point, is a non-issue.’

A wave of acknowledgement maneuvers its way throughout the room, men moving and nodding with their orders, and Chanyeol finds himself admiring them in a way that sees them as ghosts. He hates that he does this, hates that even with the routine of tactics and money he’s forced to see both his men and himself as antiquities of a distant time rather than men who have earned their right to the present world. He hates that he does this, so he changes the topic and focuses on things he understands.

Bloodshed.

‘Let us acknowledge that the first blood spilled will be the changing tide,’ he says, and he knows he does not need to explain. They all understand an attack from within means the start of war, and that, once vampire blood is spilled, the eradication of the enemy is both swift and complete. ‘Many will die. There is a likelihood we will not survive.’

‘This is what we accepted the moment we turned, Sire,’ Baekhyun offers with a lukewarm smile, the room seeming to glow just a little bit brighter in contrast with his sentiments; Chanyeol finds this action comforting. ‘This day was inevitable.’

‘If we die, I hope we die quickly,’ Minseok declares, his version of optimistic both sarcastic and grim.

Still, it’s enough to make Chanyeol smile even if it doesn’t reach his eyes.

‘I will lay down my life for you,’ he announces, signaling the end of the meeting. ‘You all know this to be true.’ 

‘And I you.’

Nine voices echo throughout the room, all breathing and speaking the same sentiment in a chorus of belief as though these three words were a dogma. They let the words resonate until the din is dry and gone, a whisper on the memory of men deciding it’s time to accept the truth: that with these words, war has officially begun.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Guardian (XVII)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongdae / Baekhyun

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,595

Summary:  You keep seeing the same guy everywhere you go. In the coffee shop, on the streets, in your philosophy class. It’s getting to the point where you think he’s stalking you - only to realize that maybe there’s something much more mysterious at play here. (AU: Jongdae is your guardian angel)

Lorian pushes himself to stand. “The prophecy refers to one like Noah,” he continues. The entire room is listening now. “Which does not mean of the same powers, but a child of both mortal and Archangel heritage. The prophecy cannot refer to one with powers like Noah, since the only Archangel capable of bestowing shadow sits before us. Trapped in human form, his punishment for creating that Nephilim.”

Jongdae stiffens, back tense although he still doesn’t look up.

“Jongdae cannot father any other Nephilim, since he is Fallen. And so,” Lorian smiles, meeting your horrified gaze. “This brings us to you, Y/N. Which Archangel are you descended from?”

The session turns to chaos.

Words fade, wavering as though heard underwater. An Archangel. You’re born of an Archangel. Though you stare at him, Jongdae doesn’t look back and when his gaze finally lifts, it’s filled with such despair that you instantly look away.

You can’t see him. Can’t think about him. The sight of his face makes your blood boil, insides twisting as you consider his lies. Or rather, omissions of truth. There’s been so many secrets, so many you feel dizzy. You’re descended from an Archangel. Jongdae is one. Or rather, he was one before falling. Your head spins with the realization of how many questions have gone unasked.

You don’t know Jongdae, not really. If Noah is Jongdae’s son, if he’s the reason he fell - you recall the legend Baekhyun told you. Noah was stopped not by the Altorium, but the Archangel who gave life to him. He was stopped by Jongdae then, who locked Noah in that tomb to save humanity. The way Baekhyun spoke made it seem as though this all took place hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. For the very first time, you consider Jongdae’s age.

The ground of the Trial room is red-brown stone, like the rest of the building. It reminds you of blood, spilled rust and steel while you struggle to control your anger. The emotion fights the drug in your veins, the haziness of your brain and when you look up, your eyes blaze.

An unknown energy surges through you and, before you can stop yourself, you’re out of the chair. You don’t know how, since it’s too hard to think rationally right now. Fury burns your body, wrapping your thoughts, twisting your mind. You see spots of anger while your hands tremble before you.

There’s silence. Or maybe there’s chaos but you hear none of it. All around you people are moving, running – either to or from you, you’re unsure. Tossing out your hand, you freeze the first row of the arena. Baekhyun is frozen, eyes panicked and wide. Next, you freeze the left. Striding forward as they stay motionless. Stuck, like flies in honey as you teleport to Jongdae.

“Liar,” you hiss, voice catching. You wish so badly you had Telekinesis. Wish you could break Jongdae out but you physically reach for him instead, pushing him by the throat against the metal of his seat. “Liar,” you choke out, the entire world blurring.

He doesn’t move. Jongdae’s gaze is dark, empty as his head falls against his chair. “Y/N,” he croaks, the face mask loosened by your hold. “Please. Listen to –“

Something sharp plunges into your neck. You falter, tumbling sideways as your gaze meets Chanyeol’s. His eyes are wide, apologetic while catching your fall.

After that, silence.

There’s no one in your room when your eyes open. No one but you. There aren’t bars on your door, just a solid metal slab that makes your stomach sink. You’re not getting past that. Not unless you teleport and when you reach for your powers, you find nothing.

An internal wall blocks any notion of escape. You see it then - the needle. A steady drip of Devil’s Ivy flowing straight to your veins. When you swallow, you find your lips are parched. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but you assume several hours. It must be, from the pain in your neck.

Both your wrists are tied. Forced behind your back, which stretches your shoulders at odd angles. There’s no bed in this room, only the chains and your body. It appears your outburst came with consequences and very slowly, you stretch your legs. At least these are mobile, the one part of you which hasn’t been restricted.

Struggling to keep sane, you check the rest of your body. Wriggling fingers, rolling your head to each side. Beyond general soreness and bruising – you appear to be okay. 

Which means you now have nothing to consider but the Trial. Jongdae’s identity, and this nameless destiny you’ll soon face. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? The Altorium think this prophecy is true. That you’re destined to either save or raze them – which, they’re unsure.

Right now, you’re not sure yourself. 

Then there’s also Yixing. When you met him, you asked if he was descended from Michael. Yixing was livid at your question, furious but he did not deny it. Which means that Yixing is also the son of an Archangel. And if he is – your face pales. The prophecy could also be about him.

Your head falls against the wall. There are so many unanswered questions. So many, and the one person who can answer is the one person you don’t want to talk to right now. Over and over, you ask yourself if you’re right in this anger. Jongdae is your Guardian. Likely, he thought he was protecting you by keeping things a secret. By hiding who you were until you could handle it – but then, time seems to be the one thing you don’t have.

This is all happening now. The Council thinks there’s a time limit, a date when this destiny will come to pass. If this is so, and Jongdae knew – he should have told you. He should have explained things, it’s unforgivable that he didn’t.

Lowering your head, you exhale. You’re lying to yourself – what Jongdae has done is not unforgivable. Not if he was just your Guardian, not if he were just your watcher. If that were so you’d disagree with Jongdae, but you’d at least understand. Jongdae must do as he sees fit, for humanity.

The only problem is, you don’t see him as just that.

You love Jongdae. Love him and are unable to run from this any longer. Only love could explain your outburst, the raw, untapped emotion you felt. The anger which burst from you, throwing you from your chair. You love Jongdae, and he continues to lie to you.

Jongdae’s face flashes before your eyes, the expression haunted and tense. You wish you could hear what he has to say – why he lied to you about all this. Jongdae said he didn’t know who your angelic parentage. A lie, unless he just doesn’t know which Archangel you’re descended from. But still, a big thing to leave out.

Then there’s Noah being Jongdae’s son. You’re still not sure how you feel about this. It explains a lot, actually. It explains why Jongdae never says Noah’s name, why he gets upset every time you talk about him. Explains why he couldn’t bring himself to tell you Noah’s full story and for a moment, you pity him. For a moment your compassion is greater than your anger and you can’t help but feel sad for the fallen angel.

Jongdae, the Angel of Death. The unscrupulous decider of fate itself, torn apart by a human. He must have been so ashamed, so at war with himself for falling for a charge. Rather like – you swallow, realizing – rather like how he’s fallen for you. It’s not just that Jongdae is your Guardian which holds him back. It’s not just his moral code, that he feels this is wrong.

You’re a reminder. A reminder of the reason he was cast out of heaven in the first place. Of his son, a product of love, who killed his mother and nearly wiped out the rest of humanity. Jongdae was forced to trap Noah himself. Trap him in a tomb, the only living reminder of the women he loved so that the rest of humanity live.

An ache enters your chest as you wonder how you can ever get past this. Finally you understand, finally you know the truth but knowing does not make things any easier. It only makes things harder, because you know now the obstacles you’re up against.

The kind of hurt Jongdae experienced, the kind of guilt he feels – it’s a hard thing to forget.

A key turns in your door. 

Your knees draw inwards, an unthinking attempt at righting yourself. You fail, limbs trembling insubordinately beneath you. Breath quickening when the door swings open to reveal a long, thin frame. Lorian.

He softly closes the door behind him. “Hello,” he murmurs, inclining his head.

You remain silent, looking up with clear hatred in your eyes.

Lorian chuckles. “I would offer you a seat but,” he trails off, gesturing loosely. When you don’t respond, he laughs. “Not the humorous type, I see.”

“I’m humorous,” you mutter, coughing once, “when I’m not being kidnapped and held against my will.” 

Rather than respond to this, Lorian takes a step forward. “I actually didn’t want you to be held here at all,” he informs, voice serious.

At this, you blink. “What?” 

“No,” Lorian muses, shaking his head. “I wanted you to die, rather than risk the end of civilization as we know it.”

Well. When he puts it like that – it makes you shift uncomfortably against the wall. “But,” you pause. “Isn’t there a chance I could save humanity, also?”

Lorian’s eye twitches. “If by save you mean ridding the world of Noah – we’ve already done that. He’s safely locked away in whatever prison that former Archangel placed him in. The only real danger now is your existence.”

Lorian doesn’t say anything about Yixing, and it’s this that makes you shut your mouth.  

“The Altorium is divided,” Lucian continues.  “You saw that today. It’s been fifteen long years since we banned killing Nephilim, so it’s controversial of me to suggest otherwise.”

Hearing this from him is surreal, as though you’ve just been told the sky is yellow or sun blue. It just doesn’t make sense, so you stare. “You what?”

“I see,” Lorian considers you. “You did not know. It makes sense,” he muses, almost to himself. “If the Fallen didn’t want you in our hands, the most logical thing would be to say we’ll kill you outright.”

Searching his face, it doesn’t appear Lorian is lying. There’s no nervous tic to his body, his expression clear, yet bored.

“But Baekhyun,” you croak. “Baekhyun thought you did. He found it unusual he was asked just to bring me in.”

One of Lorian’s eyebrows lifts. “He told you that?”

Your heartbeat stills. Stopping, even as your muddled thoughts whirl for a plan. “In Department Exes,” you breathe. “During the torture. He told Ke – someone he was not Nephilim. Explained what he was trying to do when we were both kidnapped. I was also in the room.”

Lorian seems to consider this. “Hm. Baekhyun is special, though.”

A smile twists your lips. “Aren’t we all.”

“Baekhyun more so than most,” Lorian says, a faint smile on his face.

“So he can jump far. So what?” You’re baiting him, you know that and Lorian’s grey eyes flash with anger. 

“He is so much more than just that,” he hisses, bending so his face is inches away. “Baekhyun is my special project. He is a new generation of warriors, those bred to hunt Nephilim because he partly is one.”

This makes no sense to you and you stare. “Part,” you repeat, shaking your head. “What – how?”

Lorian slides his thumb against his forefinger. “Y/N,” he muses, eyes dancing. “Have you ever had a blood transfusion?”

You flinch, hating your name on his lips. “No.”

“Lucky. Well, if you’d had one – you’d know that mere transfusion of the blood is unlikely to alter genetic tests significantly. It may linger for a few days, even a few weeks, but ultimately human red blood cells have no nucleus – no DNA.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask, even as his eyes meet yours.

“Because you are not human, Y/N,” Lorian snaps, his gaze cold. “You are Nephilim and the blood of angels runs in your veins. It’s different than humans, more dominant. To transfuse a patient with your blood, over and over – it creates something like Baekhyun.”

Bile rises in your stomach. “You,” you gasp, unable to comprehend. “You did that to him. You forced Baekhyun to become this – why would you do that?”

Lorian merely shrugs. “I see both humans and vampires in my line of work. What’s a little blood gone missing.“ At your horror, he smiles. “Baekhyun was young, he doesn’t remember it. After though, I kept him close. Raised him as my own – he was kept isolated from the rest of the Altorium because of this. Constantly sent on missions, the like. I gave him only kill orders so that he would grow up hating Nephilim. Hating the shedim.”

“Shedim?”

“Demons. My,” Lorian laughs, shaking his head. “Jongdae left out quite a lot, didn’t he? Although,” he pauses. “Shedim are rare. Normally Altors arrive first – they’re not often a problem for you angels.”

It’s too much information. Too much for him saying all this to be normal and your stomach abruptly drops. “Why are you telling me this?” you whisper.

Lorian tilts his head to one side. “After your little display this afternoon, I have enough support from the Council. You are not reliable. It’s too risky to bet you will help us. Our ban for killing Nephilim will be lifted, temporarily so.”

Baekhyun’s words play through your mind – to stay calm. Don’t let the Council incite you. You played right into Lorian’s hands. He’s used your outburst, your temper against you. You can’t be trusted as their savior and so you’re their enemy.

Though you strain against your bonds, it’s no use. “No,” you gasp, since that’s all you can do. “You can’t do this. It’s wrong. Others will see that.”

“Perhaps.” Lorian turns away. “But by then it will be too late. I don’t intend on wasting time, losing momentum. You will be executed at sundown.” Pushing open your door, he turns to look at you. “I am sorry,” he says, gaze devoid of emotion. “I am only looking out for our race. The human race. What is one death, compared to billions?”

“See,” you breathe. “That is the difference between you and I.” 

“What?” Lorian asks, sounding bored. “Do tell me, child - with your youthful ways.”

“When I was asked that question,” you explain, voice clear. “In Department Exes, when I was asked if Baekhyun should die to protect my people. I said no.”

Lorian stares at you, and for a second you think you have him. You think of him raising Baekhyun, raising his experiment and know he must hold some sort of love for him. Even if it’s just as a master for his creation. But then Lorian’s face shutters, completely blank as he steps out the door. “You won’t have the opportunity to speak tomorrow,” he says curtly, before the door slams shut.

There’s silence. 

Silence and then – you scream. The sound is pointless, illogical but you can think of nothing else to do. The sound of your pain bounces off the walls, echoing to your eardrums while your heart hopelessly pounds. Banging against your rib cage loud enough to wound. Banging, banging, banging.

No. Something is actually banging.

You barely have time to register this before the door flies open. Baekhyun stumbles in, slamming it shut behind him. “Y/N,” he whispers, dropping to the his knees before you. Curling his hands about your shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you alright?”

Slowly, you nod. Gaze moving to the shut door while you dazedly blink. “Nothing’s injured,” you whisper. “If that’s what you mean.”

“Good,” Baekhyun exhales. “Then – what the hell were you thinking?” he hisses.

You look up in surprise. “Me?”

Baekhyun nods, sitting back on his heels. “The entire Altorium was terrified by what you did – ripping off your cuffs with god knows how much Devil’s Ivy in your system. You froze half the Trial, including me. You played right into their ideas of you. They saw your strength and,” Baekhyung pauses, sucking in a breath. “You’ve been sentenced to die because of it.”

“I know,” you say, your voice quiet.

Baekhyun blinks. “You know?”

“I know. Lorian visited.”

Baekhyun swallows. “Oh.” He looks at the door, and you get the feeling he’s counting. Making sure he doesn’t miss a mark or some cue.

“Baekhyun.” You wait until his gaze returns.

“Yes?”

“How long do we have?” you whisper, unsure why you’re doing so.

“Not long enough.” Baekhyun stares back at you. “Chanyeol made a distraction, cut the cameras. I have about ten minutes.”

Your throat tightens, dangerously close to tears. The fact that he would do this at all – would risk so much to see you. You shakily inhale. “You can’t be found,” you hiss, pulling away. “I can’t let you. They’ll kill you along with me.”

“No.” Baekhyun shakes his head, hands sliding to your hair. “Y/N, that’s what I came here to say. They’ve sentenced you to death and I won’t let them.”

You look down, letting out a small laugh. “I don’t think that’s your position to say, Baekhyun.”

His hands cup your face, lifting your gaze to his. “It’s not,” he says, determined. “But I’m going to break you out of here.”

“No, Baekhyun. You won’t.”

“Yes. I will.” Baekhyun’s eyes flash. “I have a plan. Don’t worry – it’s foolproof,” he adds, throwing out that trademark grin.

“I don’t trust you, Byun Baekhyun.” You gasp, remembering. Unable to believe you forgot while your head falls against the wall. The steady drip of the IV does its job – you can barely concentrate on the man before you. “Lorian told me,” you murmur. “That he was the one who experimented on you. That he was the one who raised you.”

Baekhyun’s expression shutters. “If that’s what he’s calling it. Sure.”

“What does that mean? How,” you cough, dust in your lungs. “How is that possible? Don’t you have a mother and father?”

“I,” Baekhyun hesitates. “It’s complicated. We Altors are taken at – no, there’s no time for this!” Rising up on both knees, Baekhyun looks at you desperately. “The Altorium raided the Department Exes. It’s where they got your drug,” he explains, nodding at the tube in your arm. “They also took the liberty of stealing the antidote.”

Your body stills. “There’s an antidote?”

“Yes.” With trembling fingers, Baekhyun’s pulls a small, white capsule form his pocket. “The drug will take a while to counter-act, but once it does you’ll have full strength of your powers.” He swallows. “The air won’t slow you down, your IV will be nothing more than a drip of fluid. You can break free after that.”

Staring back, you find yourself unable to believe your ears. “Baekhyun,” you breathe, your voice hoarse. “The Altorium is your people. I’m your enemy. You can’t just –”

“When,” Baekhyun growls, eyes fierce, “will you get it through your thick head that I don’t care? That I won’t let them hurt you. Even if I didn’t, well,” he falters. “Even if you weren’t you. It’s still not right.”

When you don’t respond, Baekhyun presses the medicine closer. “Here,” he insists. Gaze desperate, but in a different way. “You need to swallow.”

Staring at him, you open your lips. Starting to let him – and then, “Jongdae,” you breathe.

Baekhyun doesn’t move. “What about him?”

You shut your eyes. “I – he’s. Please, Baekhyun,” you beg, ignoring the crack in your voice. “Please give him this as well.”

There’s silence. Silence, and when you open your eyes – you nearly recoil. Baekhyun appears halfway caught between pain and anger. Face stuck in a mask which does little to hide his emotions within. 

Hand slowly lowering, he exhales. “I don’t know,” Baekhyun mutters. “I would need to go back, need to steal more. I’d have to break into Jongdae’s holding cell – which is more heavily guarded than this one – and then,” he sighs, his gaze flickering. “There’s the fact that I don’t want to.”

Something in your stomach tightens. “Baekhyun,” you manage. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean – what about what you just said, about doing the right thing? I may be angry with Jongdae,” you admit. “May hate him a little bit right now – but keeping him here is just wrong.”

Baekhyun squeezes his eyes shut, fist tightening over the antidote. “I know,” he breathes. “I know you’re right and I know I’m being selfish but dammit,” Baekhyun bursts, opening his eyes. His gaze burns with sudden clarity. “I want to be good for you,” he groans. “I want to be good for you and give you everything – even if that means him, but I –“ Baekhyun stops, pressing the palms of both hands to his eyes.

You’re staring wildly, unable to believe your ears. You suspected this for some time now, ever since that moment in Department Exes, when you felt he was about to say something. But now, hearing it out loud – telling you he’ll do anything for you. 

You weren’t expecting to feel the same.

Lowering his hands, Baekhyun stares at you for a moment. Then he reaches forward, crushing your lips to his. “Ah,” you gasp, melting into him.

Baekhyun’s one hand finds your hair, the other your waist. Some of his desperation softens, lips slowing as his body presses to yours. His mouth opens, tongue sweeping in and it’s all you can do to keep from moaning. Fire races through you, making you forget everything about this room. Forgetting this place, the time – right now, there’s only Baekhyun.

When he pulls back, resting his head against yours, his breathing is heavy, “Y/N,” Baekhyun murmurs, gaze lifting. “I love you.”

[Master List]

Author’s Note: Part XVIII is up!

[fairyscribbles]

THIEVING HEARTS - BATTLE (KRIS, PT.5) [CHRONICLES OF THE WOLF SERIES]

Link to the previous chapter is here!

-

[ Yifan | Thieving Hearts ]

\ Returning

 -

Your whole body was strung up- the feeling-before a heist was coming onto you, like every time you were about to go rob a place. It made your nerve endings tingle and you would have smiled if it wasn't for the haunting look of fright in Soomi's eyes when she warned Kris from going.

She was having a vision. You were sure of it. And you would give your everything to bet on that the vision was about Kris.

And for some odd reason, you didn't want to see that. Your death you'd been able to come to terms with. But this man... wolf... He had a little too much to live for. Which you realized when you made it to the living room of the surprisingly roomy house and came into the middle of a racket. Between werewolves and their worried mates, all of whom were collectively worried about their family - the ones off to hunt Donghwan.

Kris came down the stairs and most of the noise died down. Then they noticed you.

"___-unnie!" Haerin called, running over to herd you in a tight hug. "You're okay!"

You were taken off guard- you haven't hugged someone in such a long time all you could do is pat the girl's sides awkwardly in hopes that she will let you go.

"How is your arm feeling?" She asked once she stepped away, great smile still on her face.

She looked much better, much healthier since that dungeon. Maybe the presence of her mate?...

"It's good now. You have a very talented healer in your pack." You said and Jongdae snickered from behind Haerin.

"Thank god, or else half of us would be dead by now."

"Jongdae!" Someone hissed at him and he only shrugged.

"What? It's not like I'm lying."

"Then... yes. You should be very thankful for him," you said with an awkward chuckle.

"I'll be here for later," Yixing sighed. "But try not to need me."

"Right. Minor cuts and bruises everyone. No corrective surgery for Yixing hyung. Got that?" Chanyeol announced as he kissed Jimin and headed out.

"Right. Let's go."

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo stepped up on either side of you, and you jumped. They gave their alpha corresponding nods before looking at you. "We'll flank her, Kris hyung. We won't let her out of sight."

You almost sighed- why they behaving like this? Seriously.

You were no more than a robber. And you tried to steal from them as well, and what they do is they protect you like you're the freaking queen.

"Be safe. And try not to kill Donghwan." Kris asked the two with a tired look on his face. He really seemed to dislike the fact that he was staying here.

"We should first heal up and then do something so severe we will need to relocate."

"No promises!" someone yelled from outside.

You recognized that as Jongdae, and you smirked when you didn't hear disagreement from his mate.

"Let's just... go. If anything, we can scout."

The three of you ran into Soomi on the way out. "Please be careful..." the girl whispered in that airy voice of hers. "I... see death. And I don't see who it is."

"Not one of us," Baekhyun assured her.

"Please watch Luhan for me?" she asked you.

You frowned. What the hell could you do to protect a fully grown and capable telepathic werewolf? But you just nodded for the sake of avoiding argument. None of you would die. If it was anyone, the death she was seeing was Donghwan. If he wasn't dead already...

Which you really hoped, you ended with a small nod as you left the house, walking out to the small clearing where you already saw some of the wolves shift, when it got to you.

"How will I be able to keep up with you guys? There is no way I can run as fast as you." You turned to look at Kyungsoo, who chuckled.

"If you can hold on tight, you won't have to run."

You heard Kris's growl from the doorway, the realization of what the man said dawning on you. "Like... ride on your back?"

Kyungsoo didn't look so sure anymore about his proposal, but he nodded either way. He then slipped his shirt over his head revealing the hardened torso underneath. With an almost uncharacteristic squeak you turned your back to him for some privacy.

"Don't worry, ___. Kyungsoo may be unmated but he's very respectful."

You just shrugged. You weren't sure why it would matter, really.

"Why should I worry? It's not like I have someone to be faithful to." You only shrugged, not quite missing the glint in Kris' eyes as they colored red for a second. You couldn't help the small grin on your face before you felt something wet brush against your palm.

It was followed by the brush of a warm, damp nose as the chocolate brown pelt brushed under your hand. "Oh. Kyung... soo?"

There was a soft whine in response. Then you turned to the gruesome noises behind you in time to see Baekhyun's short stature shift to a medium-sized wolf with light brown fur.

The smaller wolf turned to look at you expectantly, waiting only for you.

"Alright then, let's roll..." you muttered under your breath as Kyungsoo kneeled down so you can mount him easier.

Even so, he was still a lot bigger than you and you gripped his fur tightly, ready to jump up, when two strong arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you with ease.

"Don't put too much stress on the hand." Kris told you as he settled you over Kyungsoo's back.

Your hands tightened on Kyungsoo with a soft gasp when the wolf straightened and took an experimental few steps. Kris stepped back, but the displeasure was still clear on his features.

"Be careful, please." Kris asked and nobody was sure who he was talking to- Kyungsoo or you. Either way, you looked back at him with a small grin, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Don't worry, alpha. We'll be back before you know it." You winked at the tall wolf before turning back around when Kyungsoo broke into a slow run.

Baekhyun, as promised, followed not too far behind, his pace matching Kyungsoo's.

The others took off a little faster in front of you, and you adjusted your hold on Kyungsoo before leaning over to tell him, "Don't fall behind because of me!"

Kyungsoo didn't look at you, his pace still the same until you buried your heels into his sides.

"We need to hurry or else we won't get there in time!"

The wolf let out a small yelp before reflexively speeding up. Baekhyun followed up behind you, and you could hear the quiet noises that could almost be interpreted as little wolf snickers.

You wanted to turn around and grin at him secretively, but with Kyungsoo's increased speed you had to hold on tighter so you wouldn't fall off. Unfortunately, you also felt the knuckles of your bad hand acting up, the soreness slowly returning. It wouldn't be long, though.

The town was slowly coming into view.

Your heart rose to your throat. You weren't supposed to be coming back here. If anything, you should've been far on your way to a new town. But this had to be done. You needed to clear your conscience and make sure Minseok got back to Haneul safely. Then you could... go about your way... and forget this Kris person and his... caring family.

'Shit...' you thought, gritting your teeth. 'Focus!'

You turned your attention back to your approach on the mansion, your eyes squinting up at the tallest end reaching for the darkening sky. That was when Kyungsoo and Baekhyun came to a halt. You slid off Kyungsoo's back with a sigh, turning to allow them the privacy for a shift back.

Jongdae and Chanyeol were already shifted back and dressed and so you walked over to them, checking out the brightly light mansion that spread out in front of you.

"Do you have any idea where Minseok is?" You asked the two while frowning at the amount of guards in before the mansion. Was your sight making a fool out of you, or did you really see the cloak of the captain of the guard flutter before the window?

If she was there, they are in trouble.

Chanyeol raised his nose to the air, and took in a long drag. "I can't pick up much. Just that they were here. I don't like that..."

Jongdae frowned, his own nose wrinkling. "And they were already shifted back... I don't understand. If they managed to get Minseok to switch back, why wouldn't Jongin just bring them back?"

You cursed under your breath, brushing at your pants out of habit.

"Could they be inside?" You asked the two wolves quietly and Chanyeol couldn't suppress that snarl that ripped through his throat.

"I hope not." Jongdae answered for him and you frowned.

"Is there anyone who would be able to know?"

"I am." Luhan answered behind you, his eyes already closed in concentration.

"If I would just be able to get to Minseok..."

Luhan's soft features pulled in concentration, his eyelids almost shaking with how fast his eyes were moving underneath.

"Well what would we do if they are?" you asked Jongdae. "Do we... go in there after them?"

Jongdae was just as stiff as you. "Of course."

"Well we would. You two can stand watch out here," Chanyeol offered.

Baekhyun scoffed. "You're not really gonna keep Jongdae from the action? If anyone deserves to get his hands on that son of a bitch, it's him."

"Minseok..." Luhan murmured.

"No one is getting to Donghwan tonight." You stated firmly, ignoring the seer's small voice.

"What? Why?" Jongdae turned to look at you, and you weren't sure if he tried to look threatening the way his chest puffed out and he squared his shoulders, but it had no effect on you.

"You heard Kris' orders. And also try to think with your head. Haneul is badly wounded, and Haerin isn't faring well." Jongdae's snarl overpowered Luhan's little call for attention as the seer slumped against the tree in exhaustion.

"And I'm pretty sure Minseok won't be able to move after this for a while. We aren't here to kill Donghwan. We're here to bring back your brother. And we better stick to the orders." You heard some mutters and a snicked behind you, and you twirled around to look at Kyungsoo and Chanyeol leaning close to each other, small grins on their faces.

"What?" You demanded with a scowl, making the wolves shake their heads.

"Nothing, you just remind us of someone."

"Guys, Minseok is-"

"Luhan..!" You realized belatedly that he was slumping go the ground, back sliding against the tree in what had to be an unpleasant way.

The closest, Baekhyun, hauled him back up with an arm around his torso. "Hyung, what happened?"

"They're not inside. There!" He pointed a weak finger to the other side of the mansion, to what almost looked like a small courtyard. It was cast in shadows, and no noise could be picked up.

"Are you sure, hyung? I don't hear anything."

"STAND YOUR GROUND, MEN. WE ALREADY HAVE ONE!" a loud female voice was interrupted by a loud howl, before the wind picked up.

"Shit, they have Sehun!" Chanyeol snarled, eyes turning blood red and his claws drawing out, his brothers following suit. You cursed, pulling out the hidden blade from your boot, gripping it tightly in your hand as you sprinted behind the pack of furious wolves, who lost control at the sound of their youngest being captured. Harsher winds came down upon you and you heard a crack of lightening in the sky.

What was happening?

The pack of them came to a halt as a group, and you froze when you caught sight of Chanyeol's hands. "Ch-Chan-!"

Jongdae turned to you with an inadvertent scowl, his eyes flashing red as he shook his head. You had to force yourself not to jump when another crack of lightning lit up the sky.

"You should stay back, ___. This is going to get dangerous." Chanyeol snarled, his hands in flames that you couldn't keep your eyes off. He didn't look like it pained him, he looked like it didn't do anything at all.

It only made the overgrown wolf terrifying.

Baekhyun and Luhan stayed behind, giving Kyungsoo, Jongdae and Chanyeol to charge up to the scene now illuminated by torches from the guards. Even from the distance you could see a wolf whining under the silver net thrown over him, trying to worm his way from under it, but with no success.

"Is that..."

"Our youngest." Baekhyun confirmed with a snarl, holding up the seer. You swallowed nervously but after a better look at the crowd, you cursed.

"What is it?" Luhan asked, his voice small and exhausted.

"Bora is there. This is going to get bad."

"Who is Bora?"

You stared at them in disbelief. "Bora. Leader of the guard. I can't believe you haven't come across her before."

"I don't care who she is. Sehun is in trouble. We're going in there."

You shook your head at Jongdae. "Wait! She's ruthless. She-"

You weren't sure how to break to them the severity of the situation. Bora's hate and animosity towards wolves, her strength and influence.

You turned back to Baekhyun, who was the only one that still had his eyes on you in a scowl.

"Bora comes from a long family of supernatural hunters. Every generation always has three children- and each child is specialized on killing something different." You paused, turning to look at Bora throwing a gun on the ground and picking up a spear.

"Bora is the best werewolf hunter of ages. Her first kill was at the age of seven, and even that was an alpha she put down. No remorse, no regrets, no holding back. That's the thoughts she has in her head when she lifts up her gun- gun!" The thought finally caught up with you, making you gasp in clarity.

"Baekhyun, stay with Luhan and keep an eye out on the battle. Make sure it doesn't get any worse than this." You already turned on your heel, running straight to the barracks.

"No, wait! Where are you going?!"

"I'll meet you back at the house!" you called to Baekhyun from over your shoulder, and the wolf whined.

"Kris hyung is gonna kill me."

"Kill all of us," Kyungsoo pointed out as he spotted your retreating form. "Shit. We have to get to Sehun. Baek!"

Baekhyun growled, unsure which foot to follow - the one that moved towards you and the other that moved towards his packmate. But then Chanyeol took his decisive steps forward, the entire length of his arms nos engulfed in flames. "Chanyeol, no!"

The anger blinded him, along with the flames, and he was unable to see the three guards pointing their guns at him. One by one, they fired, one hitting him square in the chest, the other in his stomach, while the last one grazing his side. He fell to his knees with a grunt, but before he was able to keel over, he fried those three guards to a crisp.

"Fuck!" Baekhyun snarled. He was at Chanyeol's side in an instant, and Kyungsoo was shielding the two of them, the small man's arms bulging as he flexed in preparation to defend his brothers.

"Chanyeol, you dumb shit!" Baekhyun snarled with animosity, opting to drag him away from the battle, into the safety of the woods. When he finally pulled him under a rich bush, he straightened with a growl that turned into a yelp when he noticed the black haired, tall and murderously looking male right behind him, stoic as a statue.

"Are you from Kris' pack?" His accent was heavy, and Baekhyun realized that he must've been from the east.

"W-what?"

"Are you from Kris's pack." The man said again, more clearly this time. Just for safety, Baekhyun decided to take his side, moving from his original place. There's no way that he can trust this man.

"What if I am?" Baekhyun countered carefully, circling the foreign wolf.

"Give me my sight back. My name is Zitao, and I've come to answer the call of help of my pack."

"Your pack?" Baekhyun scoffed.

"Baek..." Chanyeol groaned, his form shifting on the ground. Baekhyun knelt beside him, taking the hand reaching blindly in the air. "You think J-Jimin's... gonna be... mad at me?"

"You idiot. I'm sure she won't."

"Please," the tall man said again, his hand calmly reaching for his eyes. "I'm here to help. If you don't let me, they could all die."

Baekhyun looked towards where Kyungsoo was struggling, fighting off three more guards with Luhan. There was already blood streaming down Kyungsoo's left arm; likely inflicted before Luhan could take the guards' weapons away. Sehun was still struggling beneath the net, his cries bordering on howls. Baekhyun's teeth gritted. "Fuck!"

He had to trust this Zitao person for now. He didn't have much choice. They needed all the help they could get.

Zitao moved quickly, darting out of the cover and joining the battle. Baekhyun was just about to reach for Chanyeol when he realized that the injured wolf had gone after the dark-haired stranger as well. "Son of a- Chanyeol, you fucking idiot!"

Baekhyun ran after his packmate, blinding the closest guards and watching Chanyeol's hands attempting to melt the silver net from Sehun's body. The youngest cried out in pain, and Chanyeol stopped his attempts with a curse. It was melting onto Sehun; this was not the way.

"Hey-!"

Someone called out to the mysterious new wolf, and Baekhyun froze in place. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him. This made no sense.

Everything was... moving slower.

The bullet fired by the captain of the wolfguard moved slower, so slow in fact, that the new wolf was able to pluck it out of the air before it was able to hit Chanyeol again. After that, time returned to normal and with a curse, Bora dropped her gun and picked up the silver spear and changed into a melee stance.

Where the hell was Bom?!