#cecy stop replying to every open casey writes challenge failed

[silkchvffon]

THE PROBLEM WITH BEING INVINCIBLE is you stop sensing danger. the problem with being immortal is you forget everyone else don't. a bullet would be the equivalent of a mosquito bite for ryo and so whilst he hears the click of the trigger he knows he has no reason to worry — until juke's there, in front of him, groaning. « no. nonono, » ryo breathes and moves swiftly to the other's side, one hand on juke's chest. trauma makes him forget juke isn't actually mortal. ryo's been here so many times before and there's a desperation in him he hasn't felt for quite a while and he knows he can't do this again; can't stand by and watch the life in someone's eyes dim whilst there's nothing he can do about it. he feels sick with guilt, concern, distress. and juke stands there and he's ... well, shot, but fine. « am i — » ryo trails off, confusion and irrational anger written all over him. and fear. ryo can't remember the last time he was so scared, which can only mean he cares, and that revelation is more terrifying than anything. « don't fucking do that ! don't ever fucking do that, nintendo ! » he raises his hands to give the vampire a shove, but thinks better of it. he turns away from him instead, frustration desperate for an outlet. « fuck ! » he yells, then hangs his head when the sudden surge of energy leaves him. « never again. promise me. you don't get to play the hero with me. »

open to: m/f/nb plot: juke's an idiot (and vampire) who jumped infront of a bullet for someone who may or may not have known he was a vampire

he's always been impulsive, ready to act first and think second, especially when it comes to someone he cares about. he didn't even mean to do it, the gun pulled and he'd moved infront of the other before anyone could blink - realisation only coming at the sound of the gunshot, the stranger on the far side of it running in the other direction and the searing from his own chest. “ fuck, that still really hurts. ” he groans softly, hand moving to press against the wound. the pain's an inconvenience rather than anything else, perhaps one juke should have expected when he isn't actually bulletproof — though he's pretty sure it's already starting to heal as he turns quickly to face the person behind him. “ are you okay? ” brown eyes pull over them, too distracted by the answer to his own question to consider what he's just done.