#jae ha x kija

[blueowlreader]

Jaeki thinking

[nyx-the-reader]

You know who's not appreciated enough.....

Son Hak. This man is not a green flag or a tree, he is a literal green forest

From the start of the manga, he's been a fabulous person. He's in love with Yona but understands that she is in love with Su-won and respects that. He loves them both and wants them to be happy.

When everything goes to hell, he doesn't want to bring problems with his tribe so he officially leaves it. Stands by Yona but teaches her to stand for herself as well. He believes in her. He wants to protect her but puts his trust in her abilities as well. He's proud of her skills and he's not afraid to brag about her capabilities.

He isn't afraid to show emotions either. While he has a banter with the dragons, he genuinely shows that he considers all of them his friends. He hugs them. He cries and doesn't try to hide it. Doesn't act like a tsundere when feelings are involved. Yes he's a little baffled when Yona returns his feelings but that's normal. I know he does have a temper. But he tries to put his rage at the bottom of his priority list.

Frankly I believe he deserves all the love in the world.

[ponderingmoonlight]

yotd men walking in on you in a hot spring

Pairings: Shin-Ah x fem!reader; Hak/Kija x fem!reader; Bonus with all yotd men hehe

Word Count: 4,6k

Warnings: it's getting heated in Hak's part y'all hehe

I would super duper appreciate it if you like even though you're not a fan of Yona of the Dawn but because of me hehe <3

Shin-Ah accidentally protecting you from danger

The hot spring’s warmth soothes every aching muscle in your tired body, the gentle lap of water against the rocks almost hypnotic. You tilt your head back, letting the steam curl around you like a protective cocoon while you can’t help but let out a sign of relief. When was the last time you’ve had some time for yourself? Away from constant danger, away from the snide remarks of Hak and Jae-Ha who annoy you straight to the core. No, it’s just you and the moon-lit forest around the spring which hums with life - chirping crickets, rustling leaves, and the distant call of a bird.

But then, the forest goes quiet.

The sudden stillness prickles at the back of your neck. You sit upright, scanning the tree line, your heart thumping louder than the now-muted sounds of nature. What on earth was that? Should you…call for the boys?

“SOMEONE HEL-“

Before you can call out, a shadow moves. There’s a blur of movement, and then he’s there.

Shin-Ah steps into the clearing like a ghost, his sword glowing faintly in his grasp. His golden eyes flash across you, scanning the surroundings with deadly precision.

“Shin-Ah?” you call, startled, your voice cracking slightly.

You instinctively sink deeper into the water, heat rushing to your face. There might be something dangerous out there, but…

You’re still completely naked.

His head snaps toward you, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, his body remains rigid, and you swear his grip on his sword tightens. Then, slowly but surely, recognition dawns. His posture softens just slightly, though his eyes dart around the spring’s edge.

“Danger,” he murmurs, his voice low and clipped.

He’s still scanning the shadows as if expecting something, or someone, to emerge.

“Danger?” you echo, confusion lacing your tone.

“I didn’t…wait, is there something out there?”

Shin-Ah takes a step closer, the faint glow of his dragon power intensifying. You can see his chest rise and fall beneath his cloak as he breathes deeply, his heightened senses working overtime. Then, from the bushes nearby, there’s a rustle and a loud, sudden croak.

Your heart skips a beat, your body instinctively pressing against Shin-Ah’s. You’ve never really been a fighter, only joined because Yona is your best friend. You can’t die out here, butt-naked in a hot spring while taking a bath, right?

A frog leaps into the clearing, landing with an awkward splash near the water’s edge.

For a moment, neither of you move. Then Shin-Ah’s shoulders slump, his sword’s light fades as he lowers the blade. The danger was nothing but a…frog?

You burst into laughter, the tension in your body evaporating while you’re forced to hold onto Shin-Ah’s shoulder for support.

“You thought a frog was dangerous?”

Shin-Ah turns back and glances at you, his mask hiding any expression, but the way he hesitates and fidgets with Ao’s tail betrays his embarrassment. His ears, you notice, are bright red by now.

Still smiling, you tilt your head at him.

“You didn’t have to rush in so dramatically, you know. I was perfectly fine. Even though I have to admit I was glad seeing you when I heard that strange noise.”

But then his eyes flicker down to the water - and widen slightly as realization dawns.

Your body is pressed against his, your skin burning through his wet clothes. But it’s not only the fact that you’re touching him.

You’re…you’re nude.

His entire body stiffens, and he takes a quick step back, his hand gripping Ao a little too tightly while he stumbles back like an idiot.

You follow his gaze and remember too late: you’re naked in the hot spring. And to top it all off, you pressed your naked body against his.

“Shin-Ah!” you shout, sinking deeper into the water, your face burning hotter than the steam surrounding you.

“Don’t look!”

“I…I wasn’t!” he stammers, his voice higher-pitched than usual.

He turns so quickly that he almost trips on the hem of his cloak, spinning on his heel to face away from you. You can see the tips of his ears glowing crimson beneath his hood.

“I… I didn’t notice. I mean - I noticed, but I wasn’t looking-!”

Before you can stop yourself, a giggle escapes your lips. Did you ever feel more embarrassed than right now? Well, no matter how embarrassed you feel, one look at Shin-Ah’s tensed back tells you more than urgently that he feels 10 times worse.

“I hope I didn’t scare you with that body of mine-“

“Scaring me? Your body isn’t scary at all! I mean…I mean…-“

“What’s going on back there? (y/n), are you-…What the hell is going on here!?”, Hak blurts out while stepping into the scene.

“Hak, get lost!”, you shriek, hands desperately trying to cover your sensitive parts.

Hak pauses, taking in the scene with his signature smirk growing wider and wider by each passing second. His gaze bounces between Shin-Ah, who is still stiff and glowing faintly, and you, nearly submerged in the water.

“Well, well,” Hak drawls, crossing his arms with a cocked eyebrow.

“This is a unique look for the two of you. I didn’t realize you were having private lessons in…whatever this is.”

“It’s not like that!” you yell, mortification threatening to drown you more thoroughly than the hot spring itself.

“And don’t look, you idiot!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not looking-” Hak teases, though his eyes deliberately flick to Shin-Ah.

“But it looks like Shin-Ah got an eyeful.”

At that, Shin-Ah’s head snaps up, his wide, horrified gaze fixed firmly on Hak.

“I… I didn’t! I-!” His voice wavers, flustered beyond words, as his golden eyes dart everywhere but toward you.

Hak’s grin only deepens.

“Relax, mask boy. I’m just saying, I didn’t expect you to be the bold type.”

“Hak!” you cry out, but before you can yell at him again, you feel the soft weight of something warm drape over your shoulders.

You glance down and see Shin-Ah’s thick fur cloak now shielding your exposed body, the comforting smell of his presence surrounding you.

Shin-Ah has turned to face Hak fully, standing between you and him like a shield. His tall frame blocks you from Hak’s line of sight entirely, his glowing gaze unwavering as he steps forward.

“Leave,” Shin-Ah says softly, his voice uncharacteristically firm.

“Oh? Feeling protective, are we?” Hak quips, unfazed.

 He leans lazily against a nearby tree, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. Just don’t take too long, or I’ll have to assume you’ve been turned into frog food.”

He waves as he retreats, calling over his shoulder,

“You’re welcome for the rescue, by the way!”

The silence that follows is almost as loud as Hak’s teasing had been. You sigh, pulling the fur tighter around yourself as Shin-Ah glances at you hesitantly. His ears are still red, his mask tilting slightly downward.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice soft now.

“For the cloak… and for standing up to Hak.”

Shin-Ah nods slowly, his hand resting on Ao’s head for comfort.

“Sorry,” he whispers, his voice almost trembling.

“I didn’t mean… to make you uncomfortable.”

You smile despite yourself.

“It’s okay. You were trying to protect me.”

Shin-Ah stays silent for a moment before finally stepping back toward the shadows.

“I’ll… make sure no one else comes. Enjoy the rest of your bath.”

And with that, he disappears into the treeline, his presence lingering like the warmth of his cloak around your shoulders.

Kija and Hak walking in on you during an argument

The hot spring’s warmth envelops you like a comforting blanket, its soothing waters easing every ache and strain from days of travel. A sigh escapes your lips as you let yourself relax, sinking further into the water. What a hell of a week this was, the only truly comforting thing that happened was meeting Zeno. But stumbling over that hot springs? Priceless, without any doubt.

It’s been far too long since you’ve had a moment to yourself. Away from Hak’s endless teasing, away from the group’s constant chatter, and away from Kija’s persistence that he protects you from every little thing. No danger, no distractions - just you and the peaceful sound of the water lapping against the rocks.

But the peace is short-lived.

As usual.

A rustling sound breaks the stillness, and you freeze, your gaze darting around without a real aim. You listen closely, heart starting to race. The forest, once alive with the faint hum of crickets, has fallen silent. You sit up in the water, eyes scanning the darkened treeline.

Before you can call out, voices cut through the night.

“Hey, white snake! You think she fell into the spring or something?”

Hak.

Your heart skips a beat.

“Hak, don’t even say that!”, Kija’s voice follows, loud and frantic.  

“Why would you assume something so catastrophic?! What if she’s injured - or worse?”

Footsteps crunch against the forest floor, and you feel panic rising as they grow louder. No, no, no. This cannot be happening. They aren’t on their way to you, right?

“Wait! Hak, Kija, don’t-!” you call out, your voice echoing off the rocks, but it’s too late.

The two burst into the clearing like a pair of wayward storms, Kija with his dragon arm glowing faintly in preparation for an attack and Hak looking as relaxed as ever, his glaive resting lazily against his shoulder.

The moment they see you, time seems to stop.

There you are, chest-deep in the water, steam curling around your bare shoulders. Kija’s dragon arm immediately lowers as his jaw drops, his pale skin quickly turning a deep shade of crimson. Hak, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“What are you two doing here!?” you shriek, sinking deeper into the water and flapping to cover yourself with your arms.

Hak is the first to recover, his trademark smirk spreading across his face as he leans casually on his glaive.

“Well, this is unexpected. Thought we were here to save you from drowning, but it turns out you’re just having a nice soak.”

He pauses, letting his gaze flicker to Kija’s dumbstruck expression before adding,

“This might be even better, honestly.”

“Don’t look!” you yell, your face burning hotter than the spring.

“I’m not looking,” Hak replies, though the playful edge to his tone says otherwise.

“Not really, anyway.”

“Hak!” Kija snaps, finally coming to his senses.

He spins around so fast you almost feel the wind from his motion, his back now firmly to you. His hands tremble as he clenches his fists at his sides.

“This is highly inappropriate! Miss (y/n), I…I deeply apologize for this unspeakable intrusion!”

Hak snorts.

“Unspeakable? Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

He tilts his head, clearly enjoying himself.

“Relax, white snake. She’s fine. No harm done.”

“Fine?! This is mortifying!” Kija hisses through clenched teeth, refusing to turn around.

His dragon arm flexes, his knuckles white.

“We should never have come here!”

“You don’t say,” you mutter bitterly, your embarrassment mounting by the second.

Hak’s smirk widens.

 “Oh, come on. It’s not every day you walk into a scene this memorable. You’ve got to admit, the timing’s kind of perfect. And the view is even better”

“Hak,” you growl, the water splashing as you resist the urge to throw something at him.

“Shut up and leave already!”

“Oh, I’ll leave,” Hak replies, holding up his free hand in mock surrender.

He glances at Kija, who still looks like he might pass out from sheer humiliation.

“But I don’t think Kija’s feet are working anymore. Guess it’s just you and me, (y/n).”

“GET OUT!” you scream, splashing water in Hak’s direction.

He laughs, dodging the spray with infuriating ease.

“Alright, alright. I’m going. No need to get violent.”

He turns, throwing an exaggerated wave over his shoulder.

“Next time, though, maybe leave a note if you’re sneaking off for a midnight soak. Could’ve saved us all some trouble.”

As Hak strolls off, still laughing under his breath, Kija hesitates, his back rigid and unmoving.

“I… I’ll make sure Hak never speaks of this again!” he promises, his voice high-pitched and frantic.

“Miss (y/n), please forgive us for this - this indecent situation!”

Before you can respond, he takes a shaky step forward to follow Hak, literally running away for dear life.

You still fail to catch your breath. As if Kija being here isn’t worse enough, why on earth did it have to be him? You’ve had a crush on Hak for as long as you can remember, still always admiring him from afar. Did he…look at you, maybe even find you attractive?

Out of instinct, you shake your head vehemently. What kind of nonsense is this? As if a guy like Hak would even look your direction.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and chase his stupid perfect face out of your thoughts as you sink back into the warmth of the spring. There’s no use in interpreting too much into this situation. After all, it was probably Kija who worried about you, right?

But your pulse quickens again when you hear that familiar voice you tried so desperately to chase away.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me.”

You barely have time to react before Hak steps back into the clearing, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight, leaning casually against a tree as though nothing’s changed. His easy grin makes the air around you feel heavier.

“Hak,” you snap, trying to control the heat rising in your cheeks.

“What are you doing back here?”

He raises an eyebrow, taking a slow step closer, not at all bothered by the situation.

"Just making sure you’re all right, of course."

“Stop messing around. I told you I’m fine.”

You try to sound convincing, but it comes out strained. It’s hard to focus when his gaze lingers just a little too long. His eyes trace the curve of your shoulders, down your arms, your body beneath the water, and you can feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch.

Hak seems to notice your discomfort and smirks even wider.

“I know. You’re fine. But you’ve been avoiding me all day, so I thought I’d check on you.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you mutter, your voice wavering despite your best efforts.

“It’s just… uncomfortable when you keep making things weird.”

His smirk doesn’t fade as he steps forward, and you instinctively inch back, but there's nowhere to retreat. He’s just a few feet away now, his body blocking the space between you and the edge of the spring. You feel like dying and flying at the same time.

"Is it weird though?" Hak asks, voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leans in, his presence overwhelming you.

“You never told me to stop… not really.”

You blink, and before you can protest, Hak continues, his tone darker now, almost teasing.

"You don't mind when I get close, do you? Not really."

The air grows thick, the steam around you suddenly feeling even hotter than before. His gaze locks onto yours, intense and unyielding. You’ve never seen him like this before, and the sudden shift in his manner makes your heart race. What on earth has gotten into him?

“Hak…”

Your voice comes out breathy, betraying your attempt to remain composed.

He smirks, but there’s something different about the way he’s looking at you now - something that sends a tingle straight down your spine. His hands flex at his sides as he steps closer, his body almost touching yours.

"You sure you want me to leave? Because I'm not getting that impression."

You’re too flustered to answer, heat rushing to your face, your body tense beneath the water. You're caught between the urge to push him away and the strange pull that draws you closer. His eyes flicker downward to where the water clings to your skin, and he breathes in slowly, as if savoring the moment.

"Don't look," you mumble automatically, your tone half-warning, half-pleading.

"I’m not."

Hak’s voice is low, teasing, but there's an edge to it.

"But if you didn’t want me to look, why are you hiding under the water like that?"

You glare at him, biting your lip to keep from responding too quickly.

“I’m not hiding.”

He takes another step forward, closing the distance until you can feel the heat of his body radiating against you.

“Sure you’re not.”

His voice is low and seductive now, each word making your heart beat faster. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear as his fingers brush the edge of the water.

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay. And it seems to me you’re not so fine with me leaving. Aren’t you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and before you can stop yourself, you gasp when his hand barely skims your shoulder, sending a shock of heat through your body. Your instincts flare up, and you try to pull back, but his presence is suffocating, and there’s nowhere to go.

You glance at him, eyes wide with something between irritation and panic, but your words get caught in your throat as he steps even closer. The tension between you is suffocating now, crackling with something raw, something primal, something that makes the air heavy and thick with desire.

"You’ve been avoiding me all this time," he whispers, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver through your body.

"But you can’t hide from me forever, (y/n)."

You shiver, unable to speak, your breath coming faster as his hand traces lightly down your arm. His fingers linger just long enough for you to feel the warmth of them against your skin, igniting a fire within you.

“W-what are you doing?�� you manage to breathe out, barely able to get the words out past the tightness in your chest.

Hak’s lips curl into a half-smile, the teasing edge still there, but there’s something deeper behind his eyes now.

“I’m just making sure you understand what I’ve been trying to say.”

His voice is thick, husky now, like the air between you both is too thick to bear.

The space between you both is impossibly small, and you’re not sure if it’s your breath or his that’s filling the air, making everything feel suffocating. You can’t remember the last time you felt this close to him - felt this seen by him.

But somehow, you never want it to end. No, you want him to stay like this, you want to feel him this close to you.

You want him, none other than Son Hak.

“Maybe…I want you”, you breathe into the night.

Bonus: all the men hehe

The hot spring is supposed to be your reward. After days of trekking through rough terrain, dealing with bandits, and sleeping in the dirt, this feels like heaven itself. Even Yun had chimed in, saying you deserved a moment to relax, offering you some alone-time in the hot springs. They had specifically assigned this hot spring to you, promising that no one would disturb you. Sometimes, they are able to act nice.

You sigh cheerfully, the warm water easing every ache and pain in your body. It’s peaceful, calm, and the perfect chance to relax.

Until the door to the changing area slides open with a loud clack.

You jolt upright, your heart leaping into your throat. Before you can even process what’s happening, Hak strides in, wearing nothing but a small, damp white towel slung low around his waist. Water drips from his messy hair as he steps confidently into the spring, seemingly unaware of your presence.

“Man, this is going to feel great,” Hak signs, stretching his arms overhead.

You feel like seeing a ghost. Didn’t the old lady tell you in front of everyone else that the hot spring number three will be reserved for you only? Are you mistaken?

“H-Hak?!” you sputter, your voice echoing in the steamy air.

He freezes mid-step, his dark eyes snapping toward you. For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, his signature grin returns, twice as mischievous as usual.

“Oh? Didn’t expect to see you here,” Hak comments smoothly, his tone dripping with faux innocence.

“Don’t mind me - this is my assigned tub, too.”

“What?! No, it isn’t!” you snap, your face turning bright red as you sink lower into the water, desperate to hide yourself.

Before Hak can reply, another voice calls out.

“Wait for me, Thunder Beast! Don’t hog the spring!”

Jae-Ha appears, his towel slung over his shoulder and his long legs carrying him gracefully into the clearing. The green dragon freezes mid-step when he spots you, his eyes widening slightly before a sly smile spreads across his face.

“Oh my,” he jeers, tossing the towel around his neck like he’s suddenly a model.

“This is quite the surprise. If I’d known we’d have company, I’d have brought wine to celebrate.”

“Get out!” you yell, your face burning as Jae-Ha perches casually on the edge of the spring, clearly ignoring you.

“Oh, don’t be shy, darling. We’re all friends here,” Jae-Ha teases, kicking one leg lazily into the water.

Before you can scream again, a third figure enters. Kija, holding his white cloth with a prim sort of dignity, strides in with his nose held high.

“Hak, I told you to wait for the rest of us before-”

His words trail off as he spots you, blue eyes widen in sheer shock.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Kija’s face turns bright red. He spins on his heel so fast he nearly trips.

“What are you doing in here?! This is improper!”

“Me?” you shriek, waving a hand at him.

“You’re the ones barging in here!”

“Don’t yell at me!” Kija shouts back, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I wasn’t told this spring was occupied! Especially not by you!”

“STOP SOUNDING SO DISGUSTED!”

He whirls back around to glare at Hak and Jae-Ha, who seem far less mortified than he is.

But there’s no time to argue or for further protest, because Zeno skips in next, humming a cheerful tune. He’s the only one who doesn’t even hesitate, wading straight into the water without a care in the world.

“Ah, nice and warm!” Zeno chirps, sinking into the spring as though this were a casual picnic.

He glances at you and tilts his head.

“Oh, you’re here too? That’s great! Makes it more fun!”

This can’t be true, right? They have to be a hallucination, every single one of them. But something about Hak’s slight grin tells you it can’t be, that this is bitter reality.

“Zeno, get out!” you groan, holding your hands over your face.

“What? Zeno didn’t do anything wrong!” he protests, grinning wide as ever.

Your sanity shakes on the edge as yet another figure appears. Shin-Ah stands in the doorway, frozen in place as he takes in the scene. His glowing golden eyes flicker between you and the others, and you can see the color rising in his ears even beneath his hood.

“Shin-Ah, please tell them to leave!” you plead, clutching the edge of the spring for dear life.

Finally someone with a little bit of sense. He nods once, almost robotically, before turning to departure - only for Ao to leap from his shoulder and dive into the water with an enthusiastic squeak.

“Great,” you mutter as the little squirrel starts splashing around.

“To be honest, Ao is the only one I really want here.”

“I-I’ll take Ao,” Shin-Ah mumbles, clearly flustered as he steps toward the spring, only to stop dead when his foot slips on a wet stone.

He stumbles, barely catching himself, and the towel around his waist slips a little before he falls straight into the water.

Straight against you.

Your naked self, to be exact.

“Shin-Ah!”

 “I-I’m sorry!” he stammers, his voice barely audible as he scrambles backward, his movements awkward and frantic.

He dashes away from you as if you’re the plague, his face so red you think steam might start rising off him.

Before you can fully process what just happened, a low whistle cuts through the tension.

“Well, isn’t this interesting?” Hak drawls, leaning back against the rocks with that insufferable smirk of his.

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking far too amused for your liking.

“Guess we know what Shin-Ah’s type is now. Didn’t think he’d make such a bold move, though. Props to him.”

Your jaw drops.

“What did you just say?!”

Hak shrugs, feigning innocence as he gestures toward the flustered Shin-Ah, who looks like he wants to melt into the water and disappear.

“I mean, falling into you like that? Pretty smooth move if you ask me. Maybe I should take notes-”

“You should take notes on leaving me alone!” you snap, your voice practically reverberating off the rocks.

“Seriously, Hak, of all the idiotic, inappropriate - HOW IS THIS FUNNY TO YOU?!”

Hak raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your outburst.

“Come on, it’s a little funny-”

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” you scream, throwing a handful of water in his direction.

He dodges effortlessly, of course, laughing even harder.

“You’re impossible!” you huff, clutching the edge of the spring to keep yourself from launching at him.

“First, you barge in uninvited, then you make inappropriate comments, and now you’re making jokes about this?! What is WRONG with you?”

“Plenty of things,” Hak admits with a shameless grin, earning himself a chorus of groans from Kija and a small splash of water from Zeno, who seems to be trying to cheer you up.

“Shut up, Hak,” Kija mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re going to get us all killed.”

Jae-Ha chuckles from his perch on the edge of the spring.

“To be fair, Thunder Beast does have a knack for digging his own grave.”

“That’s it!” you shout, pointing furiously at all of them.

“I’ll kill every single one of you right now!

Finally, Yun storms in just in time, his face already set in a scowl.

“What is wrong with all of you? I can’t leave for one second without laughing around like idiots and talking trash-”

He stops, taking in the chaos: you half-hidden in the water, Hak smirking, Jae-Ha lounging, Zeno grinning, Kija fuming, Shin-Ah frozen, and Ao splashing around like it’s a game. Yun pinches the bridge of his nose. So, that’s what’s going on here. Did all of them not listen to what the old lady said earlier?

“You were all supposed to be in the other spring!” Yun yells, his voice echoing so loudly that even Hak winces.

“Do none of you listen?!”

“It’s fine, Yun,” Zeno interferes, waving him off.

“It’s cozier this way! And being naked together helps with bonding!”

“Oh, I know something you can do naked that helps with bonding as well”, Jae-Ha comments with a slight grin.

You let out a strangled noise, your head sinking into your hands.

“I’m going to lose my mind…”

“Relax,” Hak says with a laugh, slipping into the water like nothing is amiss.

“We’re all friends here, right?”

“Out!”

[qweaenr]

AKATSUKI NO YONA

[laflynn]

Some sketches I made after binge watching and reading akatsuki no yona

[anime-fan-05]

Could you do the reaction of Kija, Shin-Ah, Jae-Ha and Zeno when the reader cups their cheeks (like that https://i.pinimg.com/originals/39/96/b6/3996b6fe50f88154c97956424d7f59e8.jpg)?

Thanks 💓

Akatsuki no Yona ~Cupping their cheeks~

Manga/anime: Akatsuki no Yona

Warnings: nothing

(Y/N): your name

Kija

He'll dead, you'll kill him: Kija.exe has stopped working; press a button to restart

His face and ears will be totally red and his eyes wide open, he'll be shaking madly, and he'll literally leap ten meters (you'll think he lied to you and he's actually the Ryokuryuu (Green Dragon)) and move away from your hands

In addition, his voice will go up an octave and he'll stutter a lot when he asks you what you wanted to do ("W-what's going on? D-do you need a-anything?")

You'll think he doesn't like it, but in reality he'll love it, and he'll let you know ("Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." "N-no!" "Huh?" "Y-you didn't bother me: I really liked it! N-no, I mean... I meant I liked your hands! N-no, w-wait, that sounds like a maniac...")

The more time passes, the more he'll get used to your touch, although he'll still flinch if you cup his cheeks, but he'll always refuse to do it to you for fear of hurting you with his dragon hand

Shin-Ah

Confused

He'll tilt his head, still into your hands, and look at you with questioning eyes, covered by his mask, not being used to such a great display of affection

Your hands, partly under his mask, will make him relax and melt on them and, if you remove them after a short time, he'll gently grab your wrists and return them to their previous position

That will become one of his favorite forms of affection, although at first he won't understand you mean it romantically (you'll also have to stop him from doing it to Yona or the other Dragons), and he'll try to ask you to do it

Keyword: try, since he'll look at your face, then at your hands and then at your face again, and you'll have to ask him what he wants ("Love, do you need something?" "Your hands... on my cheeks...")

Jae-Ha

He'll be the most relaxed of the four, rather, instead of being embarrassed, he'll probably come out with words or actions that will embarrass you

In fact, he'll either say something like: "Oh? What's wrong, (Y/N)-chan? I didn't imagine you to be so bold as to try to kiss me", or he'll clasp your hands, still resting on his cheeks, between his and bring his face closer to yours as if to kiss you... and then not do it!

However, don't think your gesture won't make him feel anything, because it's obvious he'll relax thanks to your action

He'll also prevent you from moving away from him by wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close to him!

Furthermore, he'll blush slightly (but he'll hide the blush and never admit it) if, after holding his cheeks for a few minutes and making him relax, you give him a short and delicate kiss on the lips

Zeno

This sweet boy will open his eyes wide for a few seconds, and there's a great possibility he'll be moved, since he won't have received such a sweet touch from someone for many decades until that moment

He'll immediately recover from the tears, though, and rest his face on your hands, and then he'll make a very romantic gesture: he'll bring your face closer to his, cupping your cheeks, until you two rest your foreheads on each other

His eyes will stare into yours for a few moments, as if asking for approval, and then he'll kiss you

"Do you need anything, missy?" "I just wanted to try something new... Did you like it?" "Zeno loved it: it made his heart beat fast fast!"

From then on, he'll cup your cheeks whenever he can (or rather, every time he wants a little affection, because he could do it even in some inappropriate moments, like in the middle of a fight with bandits, then taking a huge scolding from both you, Yona and the other Dragons), hoping you'll do the same to him and maybe even kiss him

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[koukaimagines]

Hello! Could you write headcanons for the four dragons with a female s/o who is sick and how they would go about taking care of her?

Hello Anon! Thanks for sending this in when you did! I'm so sorry about the long wait. Every time I get requests about the dragons fretting about their s/o for any reason, I get so excited because they're all very cute (and maybe even cuter when they worry)

These might be reminiscent of my injured s/o HCs with Jaeha and Kija as the topic of discussion is somewhat similar! (ailed s/o with dragons caring for them)

I also happened to fall sick while working on this LMAO, but side note: using my platform to say please mask up when you go about your day! Masking is a way to protect yourself and your community members, especially those at risk/who suffer chronic conditions due to or not due to the novel COVID-19 virus— the pandemic is not over!

Pronouns for this ask will be she/her as used by anon!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kija

Kija is a member number 1 of the overprotective squad. He already wishes to treat you delicately under normal circumstances, so if ailment befalls you, you can bet that protective nature will flare up more. He makes sure you're in bed and resting no matter what you say and takes care of all of your chores for you.

Much like he would in my injured s/o HCs, Kija would want to be as knowledgable as he could be about your illness and would ask Yun questions about your condition, unusually attentive and serious while taking the info in.

He's very worried about you! It agonizes him to see you suffer headaches or sore throats— anything that your illness inflicts on you, he would take in your stead and he would often voice this to you at your bedside.

He'd help you eat and feed you without question, and maybe even force feed you before Yun tells him not to bother you too much in case you're suffering from headache/unable to stomach anything, but of course you make sure he knows his intentions are appreciated.

I don't know what to call this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: Kija is ecstatic he gets to take care of you. He thinks it ill-hearted on his part to be happy about your unfortunate state, but really, he's just happy to be at your service in any way he can. Your being sick only increases the opportunities for him to show you how much he loves you and how much he cares.

Shinah

Shinah is member number 2 of the overprotective squad. He'd go to great lengths to make sure you're well-accommodated and ask Ao to be with you at times he may have to leave your side. He gives you his fluffy coat of fur and braves the cold without it because he thinks you need it much, much, much more than he does.

He sends you glares if you try to be proactive. He really really wants you to rest because Yun advised it and said it would go away faster if you slept and ate and don't overexert yourself.

While he's out in the field and happens upon some wildflowers and thinks of you, he may hear from Yona or Zeno that he could give them to you as a get-well-soon gift. Even though it's a form of courtesy, he wants to believe that it's like a prayer for you to get well soon and thinks it will help you fight your illness.

He always keeps an eye on you. Every time you run out of water, Shinah would make sure to fetch some more for you. You don't even have to ask— if he sees that your cup is empty, he'll be right back with it full. Even at night, if he happens to be on night guard duty, he'll care for you all the same.

I don't know what to call this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: Shinah loves taking care of you. He feels like he's doing something good and that makes him feel good and worthy. He has a bit of a hard time expressing his feelings for you in words, so in some ways similar to Kija, Shinah would take this time to make sure you're well-taken care of because he wants you to know how much you mean to him. He really, really wants you to get better.

Jaeha

While you're sick, Jaeha often teases you with things like feeding you dinner and saying that you must've gotten sick so he can dote on you, or hoping that he'll catch your illness and be in bed with you, but he's actually really careful (worried) and observant of your state and wants to make sure you're comfortable.

As always, he cares much more than he lets on, and does things for you outside of the periphery of you and the group. Once he's caught, he plays it cool (like he always does) and keeps going about his day doing things for you.

While you're sleeping, he'd often sit there and watch your peaceful expression. If you have fever, he'd be there to change out the wet towel on your forehead, but he's otherwise there just watching you. When someone else walks in on him, he's unusually startled— I'll let you decipher why on your own. :) (spoiler: he's embarrassed for no reason and gets more embarrassed because he felt embarrassed but he plays it cool— it's complicated. TLDR Jaeha's silly but we already know that.)

Generally, Jaeha may tease you but his true feelings can be gleaned from how he blows on the steaming porridge in your spoon and the way he pulls the covers over you when you lay down.

I don't know how to word this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: Jaeha secretly loves the intimacy of being at your side and having you rely on him. He'd be quite open about how he's loving it (it'd come off a bit teasing and as typically non-betraying-his-feelings as Jaeha can get), but there's a deeper emotion that he's feeling while he goes through the motions of taking care of you that he wants to keep all to himself.

Zeno

When you're sick, Zeno already knows the motions of caring for you pretty well. He's his usual cheery self and his sunny disposition almost cheers your recovery on like a cheerleader.

Outside of caring for you, Zeno likes picking flowers as get-well-soon gifts. He likes to tell you all about the shenanigans of the group that you may have missed in your time resting, and his lips stretch into that heart-wrenching smile of his as he watches you giggle about how silly the group can be.

Zeno sticks by you the most out of the three dragons. Because he's immune to illness and fatigue, Yun trusts him to look after you the most while he may have his hands tied with other chores. Because of his inability to feel fatigue, Zeno also rests by you while you sleep despite your many demands for him to get some sleep. "Zeno doesn't need sleep, so you rest well, Y/N." You can hear his care in the way your name rolls off his tongue despite his infrequent use of it.

When he feeds you, he lightly brushes his lips against the spoon to make sure it's just the right temperature.

I don't know what to call this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: He finds your sick state incredibly endearing— it evokes a lot of memories for him that are bittersweet but nevertheless precious. He knows your pain will only be temporary and takes each action he takes to care for you with a profound contentedness and hope that he'll see you bounce back within a few weeks' time.

[131isloved]

Yona of the Dawn (Ch. 245) *spoilers*

First off, we FINALLY got some Hak x Yona moments

Yona thinking that Hak had a wife and child and all she could do was sit in silence, like she lives him sooo much now and ughhhhh

But there is so much angst in this chapter like we have Hak worrying about how Yona would react to what Soowon said

Then we have Kija being worried to death about the the rest of the dragons like everyone just wishes they can go back to the carefree adventures from before

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption | chapter 3

chapter 3. the new normal

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 13.3k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and shareeeee xxoxoxox and pls share your thoughts w me as we get into it ;) also in case its not clear, jimin's birth year in the fic is 1995, same as real life, and Y/N is 2 years younger than him. I always put the year for any flashbacks so you can work out how old they are :) any confusion, please let me know (i might make a mistake!) thanks angels! <3

17th July 2009

The heavy scent of cigar smoke lingered in the room, curling around the dark oak furniture. Jimin sat quietly beside his father, his small legs barely brushing the floor. Across from them, Lee Han-Jae exhaled a long puff of his cigar, looking tired.

“They confirmed the crash?” Jihoon asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

Jimin did not know what accident his uncle and father had planned but he knew that his father had been on edge all day because of it.

Han-Jae nodded. “Mostly. But he's gone.” He downed what was left of his drink. “Did we take care of the family?”

Jihoon swirls his glass. “We’ll let them go, they have no one.”

“Except Kija and Min-Baek-hyun,” Han-jae counters.

“They mean nothing to us.”

“But they were loyal to Sehun.”

Upon hearing this, Jimin went still, realising what’s happened. 

“Their loyalty was not just to Sehun but the entire Han family. They will protect them at all costs and they’ve been in this long enough to know not to retaliate if they want to keep themselves safe.”

Han-Jae said nothing else of the matter but his face did little to mask his disapproval. He took another puff of his cigar before he spoke again. “The other two men survived. Escaped before the flames could finish the job. They’re digging through the wreckage, but the police are sniffing around."It seems dental records are proving... inconvenient.”

Jihoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Inconvenient?” he echoed. “The detectives are a problem?”

Han-Jae waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Funny,” Jihoon said, leaning forward slightly. “You said the same thing about the last case they opened. And now I hear whispers about them building something bigger — trafficking charges. Another detective’s on the case, isn’t he?” His tone sharpened. “You’ve been careless, Han-Jae.”

The room tensed, the air thick with unsaid threats. Han-Jae stiffened, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment. “Watch your tongue, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s lip curled. “You’ve been playing dirty, using our resources to fund your side business."

Han-Jae remained indifferent. "You'll be asking for a share soon. All the pieces are almost complete and this detective is nothing more than a bump in the road. I'll deal with it."

"That's besides the point. I trusted you and you're acting foolishly."

"Foolishly?"

"Is it not?" Jihoon asked, patronising.

Jimin watched as Han-Jae got up wordlessly and walked over to his cabinet. He picked up the decanter and generously poured himself some whiskey.

“I’ve given you more than enough leash,” Jihoon continued, his voice rising. “But if you think I’ll let you drag my name down with yours, think again.”

Han-Jae emptied his glass before he turned, his face a mask of fury. “We’ll talk about this later,” he spat. “We have somewhere to be.”

Jihoon didn’t bother responding. Instead, he turned his attention to Jimin, his gaze cold and commanding. “Get a gun.”

Jimin froze, his blood turning to ice. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Now,” Jihoon snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Then meet me by the car."

Jihoon left the room and Jimin followed, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. He went towards the basement, down the stairs and past the training floor, all the way to the locked room at the back. Some of his father's men watched as he walked, but none said a word. Hands trembling, he pressed his thumb to the scanner and waited for the door to unlock, revealing an entire array of weapons lining the walls.

Jimin didn't think. He picked up the first handgun he saw, checked it was loaded and then walked out with the cold metal feeling alien in his grasp, the weight far heavier than he anticipated.

Without realising it, his feet carried him to the kitchen, where his mother stood slicing vegetables. She turned at the sound of his shaky breathing, her eyes immediately softening when she saw the gun in his hands.

“Jimin,” she whispered, crossing the room in an instant. She crouched down in front of him, pulling him into a gentle hug. The faint scent of lavender filled his nose, momentarily drowning out the suffocating reality around him.

“I can’t,” he mumbled against her shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

His mother’s embrace tightened. “I never wanted this for you, Jimin,” she murmured, her voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled back, brushing his hair from his face with trembling fingers. “But this is your life now. Your father won’t wait. If you don’t go back, he’ll only get angrier.”

Jimin shook his head. “Why do you let him—” His voice broke off and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry." Her face crumpled, but she quickly composed herself and closed his fingers around the gun. “You have to go now, before he comes looking for you.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, his small frame trembling as she kissed his forehead and guided him toward the door.

The container yard smelled of damp concrete and iron, the air thick and stifling. As Jimin stepped out of the car, he immediately spotted Kwan and Duri ahead of them. 

Jihoon and Han-Jae walked ahead while Taemin and Jimin followed behind. As they went further into the yard, around a dark corner, Jimin glanced at Taemin, hoping for some kind of answer. Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a reassuring smile of sorts when Jimin glanced his way, but it did little to make him feel better. Jimin figured he knew where they were going since he and his dad spoke often.

Duri pulled the heavy door of one of the containers open as they approached and both fathers stopped short outside of the container. Han-Jae laughed mirthlessly and they both stepped aside for Jimin and Taemin to see.

Two detectives knelt on the floor, their faces bloodied and swollen, their hands tied tightly behind their backs.

Suddenly, the dead weight of the gun in his hand felt heavy again.

Jihoon glanced over his shoulder. “Stay here,” he ordered both boys.

Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a solemn nod but said nothing.

Jihoon stepped into the container, and crouched in front of one of the detectives, his voice low but menacing. “I warned you to stay out of my business. But now, you’re here. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The detective spat at Jihoon’s feet, earning himself a sharp backhand. Jihoon stood, motioning to Jimin. “Come here.”

Jimin hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Now, Jimin."

Taemin looked between them and gently nudged Jimin forward. "Go on," he whispered.

Reluctantly, Jimin got closer, his eyes glued to the ground.

"This man is a threat to us,” Jihoon said, calmly. “End him.”

Jimin’s breath hitched. “I-I can’t—”

Jihoon’s hand lashed out, striking him hard enough to send him stumbling. “You’re weak,” he snarled, stepping close to Jimin and speaking low in his ear. “Your mother’s made you soft.”

Jimin’s head snapped up and he ignored the harsh stinging sensation on his cheek. “Is that why you always send her away?” he asked, teeth gritted. “To keep her away from me?”

Jihoon froze, his face darkening. For a moment, Jimin thought he might strike him again. But instead, Jihoon looked right at Jimin and spoke, his voice icy. “She chooses to leave. Every time she walks out that door, it’s her choice. And it’s time you grew up and realised that.”

Jimin’s grip on the gun tightened, his knuckles white. He didn't look at the man before him but raised his arm, finger closing around the trigger. "You're right," Jimin said, voice low. "It is time I grew up."

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, the sound ringing in Jimin’s ears long after the man’s body hit the floor.

Jihoon’s voice cut through the haze. “Finally.”

But Jimin didn’t hear him. All he could see was the blood, pooling and spreading across the cold concrete. All he could feel was the weight of his father’s shadow, pressing down on him, suffocating him.

Jihoon glanced at Han-Jae, his lip curling in irritation. “You deal with the other one.”

Han-Jae smiled thinly, his hand settling on Taemin’s shoulder. “Go on, son.”

Taemin hesitated, his youthful face pale under the dim light of the yard's lights. He glanced at Jimin, whose expression was frozen in a mix of horror and detachment, and then back at his father.

Han-Jae’s smile faded. “Do you want to disappoint me?”

The weight of that question hung heavy in the air, and Taemin swallowed hard, but slowly, he stepped forward.

The second detective, bloodied and trembling, began to plead incoherently, his words dissolving into a sob.

Jimin’s stomach churned violently. He couldn’t bear to watch as Taemin raised the gun with far steadier hands than his own, nor could he endure the suffocating tension of the warehouse any longer. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, “I’m going to the car.”

Jihoon turned his head slightly but didn’t object. “Fine. Go.”

The indifference in his father’s voice stung more than any reprimand. Jimin moved toward the exit, his legs unsteady but quickening with each step.

The sound of the gunshot rang out just as he stepped out of the container, the echo chasing him into the night.

The air outside was still warm despite it being well past midnight. Jimin usually loved late summer nights like this but not today. As he walked around the bend, he felt more hot, and the humidity worsened the thick, suffocating tension inside.

He made it only a few steps further before his stomach betrayed him. Rushing over towards a stack of crates, he retched violently. The contents of his dinner surged upwards and all Jimin could hope was that he was far away enough from his dad.

His throat burned, and his body trembled as he leaned a hand against the cold metal for support.

When the heaving subsided, the silence around him felt deafening. His mind was a storm of guilt and revulsion. He could still see the detective’s lifeless eyes in his mind, and worse, as he still held the gun now, he kept imagining his finger was still around the trigger.

“This is your life now,” his mother’s voice echoed in his head, her words a hollow comfort against the growing ache in his chest.

His throat tightened, and for a brief moment, he felt the urge to cry. But the tears didn’t come. They couldn’t — not here, not now. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs until the sharpness of it dulled his emotions. He repeated the motion over and over, steadying himself, quieting the chaos within.

Jimin wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and straightened up. His legs felt heavier than before as he trudged toward the car, but by the time he reached it, his breaths had evened out, and his face was expressionless once more.

Sliding into the back seat, he leaned his head against the window and the chill of the glass grounded him.

As he sat there in silence, the weight of his actions settled like stones in his chest, and he knew this wouldn't be the last time.

Present day

It takes you a while to come to your senses, your fuzzy mind drifting in and out of sleep, telling yourself that you’re dreaming every time your eyes half open to see the surroundings of a room which isn’t yours. Your head sinks back into the feather filled pillow, your breathing is slow and steady and you remain completely still as you wait to wake up in your own bed, in your own home.

But it doesn’t happen. 

As you start to focus on the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath, your eyes flutter open fully and everything comes rushing back to you. Seojun lying helplessly on your kitchen floor, Minjun and the men flooding your kitchen, Dani and Siho dying to protect you. And Jimin.

The thought of it all hurts your head, and you push the thoughts down, focusing on something else for now. You have many questions and you’ll make sure to get answers, but right now, one thing you’re sure of, is that you’re safe. 

Looking around the room you’re in, you faintly recognise the large wooden doors and particular coving style on the walls. You spent more than a few days running around the halls of this estate, hiding and playing in the rooms belonging to the boy you were once friends with — now the man who saved your life…

It hasn’t escaped you, that had Jimin and his men not walked in when they did, Minjun would’ve killed you after he got whatever information he needed from you. 

You’ve never forgotten him, and now it seems like an odd sort of fate that you’ve ended up entangled in some kind of mess with him, thanks to Seojun. 

There’s definitely something going on, because there must’ve been a reason why Seojun was in your house, why he spent those late evenings at the cafe just trying to have a conversation with you. 

Looking next to you on the nightstand, you see your phone and purse, as well as a few of the other items you had in your pocket and your first thought is to call Yoongi. Whatever’s going on, you need to tell him and he might know something too. 

There’s also a small bowl of fresh fruit on the nightstand and a bottle of water — a small reminder that you’re safe here. 

As you reach for your phone, you feel a mild throbbing pain in your wrist. You almost forgot that Minjun cut you, but the wound is neatly bandaged now. Pushing the sheets back, you look down at your thigh to see it’s also been bandaged and you’re almost certain you’ll find stitches under there. You’re also wearing clothes that aren’t yours — a loose tee and baggy basketball shorts. You don’t remember anything since falling unconscious but you’re sure one of the housemaids must’ve dressed you.

Reaching for your phone again, you expect to see a call from your grandma since she normally calls you every morning, but your home screen shows no notifications except the many security camera notifications which you’re sure must show the events that took place at your home – you might be able to use it to identify a few of the men who were there, Yoongi certainly would be able to help you with that. 

Unlocking your phone, you open up your contacts and scroll through to find Yoongi’s name. Just before you can press call, there’s a knock at the door. Pausing, you look up and a few seconds later, the handle turns slowly. 

A slim man enters the room, dressed sharply head to toe in a suit… Your eyes widen, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

“Yoongi.” 

He smiles, though somewhat apologetically.”Y/N.” Walking over to your bed, he doesn’t hesitate to pull up the chair that sits in front of the dressing table and bring it beside your bed. While your thoughts race, Yoongi sits quietly and waits.

He’s been working for Jimin, of course he has – his dad was close with yours and Jimin, and after your father’s death, his dad, Min Baek-hyun, stayed close with your grandparents and still resides close to your grandma in Namwon, while Yoongi stayed in Seoul. All these years, you’ve stayed close friends with Yoongi, not knowing he was so close with Jimin too – someone you once considered a best friend.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you ask finally.

“I didn’t want to complicate things,” he murmurs, looking up. As soon as you meet his gaze, you know what he means by that… 

You still remember that night, a few months ago, when Yoongi asked you to take out the Cheong men at the warehouse holding the drugs. For the first time, you asked for something in return – for him to help you find who killed your dad. It was the fact that he looked away as soon as you said the words that told you he already knew. 

 “I need something in return.”

Yoongi lifted his head calmly. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, placing the key down on the table. “Just, promise me you’ll do it first.”

At this, Yoongi’s expression changed to one of concern and he hesitated. 

Meeting his gaze, you said his name. “Please.”

“Alright.” Yoongi shifted, keeping his eyes on you. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence as you mulled the words over in your head. It had been on your mind for a while, something you’d been considering often for the last few months, since you passed what would’ve been your father’s fifty fifth birthday. Not a day had gone by that you didn't miss him, and you’d known since his death that the last place he was called to, wasn’t a timely coincidence. You may have only been 12 at the time of his death, but your father always taught you to be aware of everything, and you’d noticed the tension between him and his friends for months before that night. Even the fact that you hadn’t seen Jimin in years, and the way Jihoon always disregarded your presence – that is before your father limited their visits to your family home. He was trying to protect you from them.

“I want to know who killed my dad.” 

The words felt strange on your tongue – though your dad’s murder wasn’t a secret to you, you didn’t often speak about it so forwardly, especially not to Yoongi. 

Concern returned to the lines in his face, brows furrowing as he shook his head and reached for your hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

You moved your hand from the table before he could hold it. “You know.”

He paused, eyes flitting down to where your hand was. Releasing a slow sigh, he closed his eyes. “And I think you already know.”

The anger and frustration you’d been holding on to for years began to surface.“It was them, wasn’t it?”

Yoongi looked up. “Y/N–”

“Lee Han-jae? And Park Jihoon?”

Yoongi gave the smallest of nods, and your fist curled in your lap. 

“Do you know why?”

“Y/N, please, don’t–”

“You promised, Yoongi.”

Meeting your gaze, Yoongi sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Everything.”

So he did…

Na Doyun was a corrupt prosecutor who worked for the Lee’s, keeping them out of trouble as long as they paid her well enough. It was the perfect deal until some of the DA became suspicious of Doyun’s intentions and motivations, and she panicked, demanding more money, as well as a way for her to launder all the funds she was receiving. 

The Lee’s had no choice but to comply since she had enough dirt on them to put them away for life, (as well as a supposed contingency plan that would expose them should they try anything to harm her), and so Han-jae developed a nightclub under his name and added Doyun as a majority shareholder, as well as a few others under his influence. It became one of the most popular nightclubs in all of Seoul and the perfect place for any illicit activity,

“The one that closed down months ago?” you asked, vaguely remembering. You were sure you'd followed more than a few unsuspecting victims of Yoongi’s from there on one of your errands for him..

“Yes. They have a few all over Seoul but none as big as that one. And you remember Taemin?”

“Lee’s son?”

“Yes.”

You barely saw Lee Taemin growing up. Though he was close in age to Jimin and you, his father had sent him to school in the United States. There were a few occasions where you were there together but unlike Jimin, he barely spared you more than a glance. 

“Closing the club was intentional on their part. Han-jae wanted Taemin to replace it with something much bigger and better.”

“The Benitoite.”

Yoongi nodded. “A clever move on his part. The nightclub was becoming a hot spot and that was risky for them. After years of illegal trading, predatory lending and more, they had to find a way to get rid of any liabilities who used to frequent the club for their own gain, and with the Benitoite, they got the DA off their backs while attracting a whole new world, as well as another way to make their money clean again.” Looking up, Yoongi carried on. “Once that was done, Doyun had nothing left to hold over them.”

“They killed her?”

Another nod.

Your hand tightened around the fob. You couldn’t say you felt bad for the woman, she was corrupt after all and served men doing worse than herself, but it still didn’t make any of this easier to hear.

Yoongi sighed, his hand moving towards yours. “You okay?”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“When that nightclub before the Benitoite first opened, your dad wasn’t opposed to it so he never said anything. But, Jihoon or Han-jae weren’t just abiding by what Doyun wanted, they both saw an opportunity and wanted to run part of the nightclub as a secret brothel for invited guests only, those who would pay enough.”

Yoongi looked up apprehensively, but he saw your expression and continued.

“They knew anyone who knew of them, or had any kind of business with them, feared them, so they used that. If there was anyone who had done them wrong, or owed them money, they offered them a way out.  Hundreds and millions worth of debt in exchange for years of service, and they didn’t care who it was. 

“A mother, father, son, daughter, brother or sister. Any relation to the person who owed them was good enough and as you can imagine, none of the actual offenders offered themselves so it was all innocent family members being taken in. They would kidnap them and coerce them into working there doing whatever it was that needed to be done too. The whole thing was set up as a way for them to earn honest money to pay back whatever was owed.”

You looked up, repulsed. These are the men you once regarded as your uncles, seeing them as your dad’s friends you thought of them as family while growing up. It’s true that as you got older, you started to feel a certain way towards Jihoon because of how cold he was, especially with Jimin, but this was still beyond anything you would’ve expected of them.

“So that’s why they killed my dad?” 

Yoongi shook his head. “Not exactly.” Pausing, he studied your expression for a few seconds before he leaned over the table to grasp your hand. After a gentle squeeze, he let go. “There was a lot happening around that time, I don’t know the details but the way Han-jae and Jihoon saw it, is that your dad became soft. When he first found out about the nightclub he was angry and threatened both of them.”

Your stomach curled.

“They wanted to appease him so they said they would reconsider.”

“But they didn’t.”

“No. And truthfully I don’t think your dad ever believed them anyway.”

It went quiet, the distant humming of car engines along a nearby busy road carried the sound of your thoughts as they ran endlessly. 

Yoongi took another sip of his milk, watching you carefully. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “I can tell you the rest another time.”

You looked across at home, taking a slow breath. You do feel like you’ve heard enough, but you need to know. “What more is there? They killed him after that, no?”

Traces of a grimace appeared on Yoongi’s face. “Not quite.” He paused, waiting. 

Wordlessly, you nodded for him to continue. 

“Did you know Han-jae was married twice?”

Nodding, you remembered his step-daughter, Jiyoung. She looked after you occasionally, but like Taemin, she wasn’t always there. “Yeah, his first wife passed away but Jiyoung was from her, right?”

“Not exactly, Jiyoung wasn’t Han-jae’s daughter.” 

Now, this was news to you. 

“And her mom wasn’t a huge fan of Han-jae, their marriage was arranged after her first husband died, and she had plenty of reasons to dislike the man and he felt the same, except she always threatened to expose him.” 

The arranged marriage wasn’t a surprise to you, as it was common amongst many of your father’s affluent friends, including your own parents, but you hadn’t known that Han-jae’s first wife despised him. 

“After she died, Jiyoung got older, she looked more like her mother, acted more like her, and Han-jae didn’t like her just as much as she didn’t like him, so…  he saw an opportunity to get rid of her.”

Eyes widening, you asked, “The nightclub?”

Yoongi nodded, looking down. “But your dad saved her.”

Despite the warm evening breeze, you feel your skin go cold.

Yoongi continues. “He knew something was going on and he happened to be there the night she was being taken. He killed the men and took her away to a safe place, out of the country.”

And just like that, it all made sense. “So that’s why they killed him.”

Taking your hand again, Yoongi nodded silently. “It was a means to an end for them,” he murmured. “Han-jae and Jihoon had changed. They weren’t who your dad befriended and their morals and ambitions were far from the same.”

Yoongi’s words were said to comfort you, but they only fueled your anger… your dad’s closest friends, the men who he regarded as brothers, were the ones who killed him.

That conversation felt like a lifetime ago, and as you see Yoongi sitting in front of you now, you understand why he chose not to tell you, but you can’t help but feel a tiny bit betrayed.

“Still could’ve told me,” you mumble, looking away from him.

“Would it have made a difference to anything?” he asks, leaning forward with a playful smile. 

Realising he’s right, you frown indignantly. “Might’ve stopped this,” you say, knowing it’s a weak point.

Yoongi’s expression darkens. Shaking his head slowly, he meets your gaze. “Nothing could’ve stopped this.”

Seojun is the first person that comes to your mind, and you feel your stomach coil. 

Reaching to hold your leg over the covers, Yoongi says your name. “You need to tell me everything you know.”

Nodding, you push the mental image of Seojun out of your mind. “I don’t actually know much,” you start, “Seojun had been coming into the cafe around once a week and would talk to me, just small talk. He must’ve known who I was but I didn’t realise until the last time. He seemed worried about something and kept asking me about grandma, and when she called, he’d left and there was a note on the table.” Looking towards the night stand where your belongings are, you see the note you pocketed then, and the drive is there too. You take them both, handing the note to Yoongi.  “This is what it said.” 

Yoongi takes a few seconds to read the simple words, She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. Frowning, Yoongi lowers it to the bed. “He must’ve known, but I don’t know how.” Looking up, he asks, “you never told him anything about your grandma?” 

“No,” you shake your head. “He just knew.” Thinking of this, you suddenly remember all those conversations you had with Seojun… he had a girlfriend. “Yoongi?” You meet his gaze with worried eyes. “He had a girlfriend.”

Yoongi’s expression softens, lips pursing. “Yeona. She knows. She lives here with us, she moved in with Seojun a year ago.”

Nodding your head slowly, you look away. You don’t bother asking how she’s doing, that would be a pointless question – you could tell how much Seojun loved her and from the stories he told you, you’re certain she loved him just as much, she must be heartbroken. The thought of it reminds you of the night your dad passed away… you’d never seen your mom in so much pain. 

As your emotions begin to swirl heavily again, you look up at Yoongi. “Did he not say anything at all about what he’d been doing?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “We knew he was up to something, but Jimin told us to let him be.” Again, Yoongi’s expression looks pained. 

“Why?”

“A few weeks back, Jimin had one of their clubs raided by the police on the same night they were receiving a weapons shipment and there’s since been a good few detectives on their case. Taemin’s uncle got some time in prison for it and even though he’s out, they still wanted to send a message to Jimin, a way to get back at him… so they killed Seojun’s mom.”  

The words wound the knot in your stomach even tighter. “So Seojun wanted to get back at them?”

Nodding, Yoongi shakes his head. “Jimin warned him not to, he promised they’d work it out together and end things for once, but Seojun was angry. Once we figured out he was up to something, Jimin told us to leave him and once Seojun had a plan, we’d join in on it.” Releasing a shaky breath, Yoongi looks down. “We never got to find out what it was, and each week we’d see him less and less. Everyone here knows how to look after themselves, but now I wish we’d taken more care.” 

Seojun was a friend to everyone here, Yoongi included, you realise. You know you ought to comfort him but you don’t think you know how. “I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur. 

He gives a small smile. “Finish telling me what happened.”

Sitting back into the cushions again, you recall the events from that night. “I left work as normal, came home and when I went upstairs, something felt off. So I went back down, and then I saw him in my kitchen, he was bleeding, barely conscious on the floor and I ran over to him. I tried to help him but he kept apologising, and then he gave me this.” Looking down, you hand the drive to Yoongi.

Confused, Yoongi turns it over in his hand. “Did he say what’s on it?”

“No,” you shake your head. “And it’s probably protected too since the Lee’s wanted it as well. But he told me to take it and find Jimin.” At this, Yoongi looks up and meets your gaze. “He kept saying he’d keep me safe and that I should leave him and go.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. He needed help, but it was too late. When I was about to get out, Minjun and some of his men came in. Seojun tried to help me but in the end…” you trail off, looking down. “In the end it was Minjun questioning me, asking me who I am. I lied, of course.” You finish telling Yoongi the rest of what happened, up until when Jimin and his men came in. 

When you’re done, Yoongi is cursing under his breath. “Minjun was a fucking psychopath.”

“Yeah, he seems like it,.” You remember the way he laughed when Jimin was punching him. 

“He has a brother, Kwan, he’s just as crazy, if not worse.”

The thought of it leaves you shuddering. Minjun was ruthless and you can’t imagine how much worse his brother is. You hope you never have to meet him, although luck hasn’t really been on your side recently.

“Hey,” Yoongi says quietly, moving from his seat to the bed. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

He smiles softly. “Your wrist should be better in a few days, but your leg might take two or three weeks to heal well. I got you some crutches in case you wanna use them.” 

“Thanks, I probably won’t use them though.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

Smiling at him, you push the sheets back to look at your bound leg. “It’s not deep is it?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “You got lucky. Only an inch or so. Ah, also,” he looks up at you apologetically, “you’ll need to stay here for a while until your house gets fixed.” 

“Oh.” You remember how the windows were smashed in as Minjun attacked, and you’re sure there’s more damage to the property that you’re not even aware of. 

“Jimin is making all the arrangements,” Yoongi continues, “but he’s trying to keep things quiet so I don’t know exactly when things will be sorted.”

“He doesn’t have to, I can do it myself.”

“He wants to,” Yoongi responds. “He blames himself for what’s happened, so just let him please.” His words appear to carry more meaning, and you can’t imagine how he must feel after seeing Seojun dead. You still remember the look on his face when he saw the body.

“Why?”

“He blames himself for a lot of things,” Yoongi murmurs with a soft sigh. “This hasn’t helped.”

Even though it’s been years since you were close with Jimin, you still find yourself feeling a familiar twinge in your chest – ever since you’ve known him, Jimin has had to suffer so much hurt, you couldn’t even count on your hand the amount of times you saw him looking so defeated and terrified in front of his father. He seemed to prefer the company of Lee Han-jae over his own father, although you don’t know how much better Han-jae was as a father since his son, Taemin, was in America most of the time to study. All you know is how he treated Jiyoung.

Now, curiosity (or care) gets the better of you, and you ask, “What happened between them? Han-jae and Jihoon?”

Yoongi looks up, grimacing. “It started with money. Han-jae got greedy and wanted the Benitoite to be only his, but Jihoon insisted it belong to them both since the nightclub was half his effort, though he never really cared for the extra money, he just needed the front. Han-jae reluctantly agreed but it was clear he wasn’t happy. 

“And then Jihoon found out that Han-jae planned on going behind his back and he got angry. Han-jae was drunk one night and started threatening Jihoon, which only made him more angry. But before he could do anything, Taemin stepped in and shot him.”

“Taemin?!” you ask, surprised..

Yoongi nods. “He knew of his dad's plan for the Benitoite and he wasn’t fond of Jihoon, so he did what he had to to protect his dad. But Jimin was there.” His expression darkens. “He watched his best friend shoot his dad, who was bleeding out in front of him. I’m so grateful we were with him that day…” He trails off, exhaling as he looks down.

He doesn’t need to say anymore for you to know what he means – Taemin was going to have Jimin killed too. 

Your head lowers too. You don’t allow your thoughts to wonder what would’ve happened if Jimin had been alone, you’re just glad he got out. Though you can’t imagine what he must’ve felt given his relationship with Jihoon.

“Did he get to have a funeral for his dad?”

“Yeah,’ Yoongi answers. “Han-jae had just lost another one of his friends and the blood was on his hands, so he sent the body back to Jimin and tried to make amends, but Jimin wasn’t having it. He was already against everything they were doing and now that his dad had gone and he’d lost Taemin as a friend, he had no reason to keep ties with them.”

Leaning back into the cushions, you mull over everything he’s just said. For years, you stayed away from these families who were such a big part of your life growing up, and now you learn that they’ve fallen apart as well. 

After a moment, Yoongi speaks again. “I was surprised when they brought you in.” You look up at him as he continues. “I thought he might’ve recognised you, but he said nothing.”

“Do you think he does?” you ask, remembering the look on his face when he first saw you. “But he’s just not saying it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Might be. If he does remember you though, he’ll say something.”

“Are you going to tell them?” you ask, looking at him.

“Only if you want me to.”

After a few quiet seconds, you shake your head. “At least not yet.”

Yoongi nods and it goes quiet again. You close your eyes, leaning against the headboard as you think back on everything that’s happened, and then it comes to you.

“Dani and Siho,” you say, opening your eyes again as a heavy weight settles on your chest. “Did you get them out?”

Solemnly, Yoongi nods. “I sent them back to their families and have offered to make all the necessary arrangements for anything else they need.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Let me know what they say, I’ll sort it out for them..”

Yoongi nods again, pursing his lips as this time he reaches forward to take your hand and comfort you. “They knew the risks, Y/N,  better than anyone else.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it’s different, they were there because of me.”

“Yeah, but they made that choice, they wanted to fight for you,” Yoongi says, shifting on the bed. When you look at him, he winces slightly. “Sorry if this isn’t helping, you know I’m shit at comforting people.”

You smile. “I know.”

“Hey, you’re not any better though,” he says defensively, “you didn’t even hug me properly when my mom passed away.”

“What?” you chuckle. “I tried to, but I know you don’t like hugs.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Not normally, but then I would've liked it.”

“Oh…” Now you feel bad. “Really?”

He nods, only looking up at you when you fail to respond. Seeing your face, he smiles. “It’s okay though, I got lots of hugs from the guys here.”

Scoffing, you absentmindedly pull the covers over your legs again, feeling cold from the aircon. “Yeah, you’re telling me Park Jimin was giving out hugs?” It comes out sarcastically and without much thought.

“Yes, actually,” Yoongi answers simply. 

Pausing, you realise what you said and his response. You don’t know why you feel surprised when the Jimin you knew was nothing but caring and considerate towards others, oftentimes more than he was towards himself. 

As though he can read your mind, Yoongi smiles. “Surprised?”

“Kind of.”

“You knew him though,” he says, as though that makes it so obvious.

“Knew,” you repeat. “I didn’t expect him to still be the same.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “I wouldn’t say he’s changed, but I wouldn't exactly say he’s the same either…” looking up, he smiles again. “I guess you’ll get to see for yourself now.”

“I guess so,” you say, reaching for an apple from the bowl beside you. Seeing Jimin again has been weird, but you can’t ignore the part of you that is ready to welcome a part of your old life back, someone familiar, someone you liked very much. Like Yoongi said though, you’ll get to see for yourself if he’s anything like you remember him. Although you were both younger then, you don’t think he would’ve changed much from what Yoongi has told you so far.

“D’you want something a bit more filling than that?” Yoongi asks, nodding to the apple you’ve just bitten into. “Dinner is just about to be served so you can come down to eat or I can bring it up for you?”

“Oh, yeah, actually,” you answer, hearing your stomach growl after receiving a tiny morsel of food. “I am quite hungry, so I think I'll come down.”

“Sure,” Yoongi chuckles, “you must be hungry, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Three days?!” When he nods, you immediately reach for your phone. “I need to call Moni, she’s probably wo–”

“I already have,” Yoongi says, interrupting you quietly.

Fingers freezing over her name, you look up at Yoongi. “What?”

“I already called her.”

A frown settles on your face. “What did you say?”

Yoongi has always been aware of your wish to keep everything hidden from your grandma, so he hesitates now, knowing this would be your response when he told you he called her. “Everything, but Y/N, she needed to know.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“I know,” Yoongi sighs. “Sorry.”

For a moment, it goes quiet and you lower your phone to the covers. Yoongi is right, she did need to know about this, and it’s not like she’s a stranger to this kind of stuff. Besides, what happened wasn’t related to any of the stuff you’ve been doing for Yoongi, which is what you always wanted to keep from her, and what’s happening now does seem to involve you, and therefore her.

“Sorry,” you say. “You’re right, I just didn’t…” you sigh, trailing off as you think about how worried she must be. Your grandma is a strong woman and you’re everything to her, just as she has been yours. 

“I know,” Yoongi says, understanding what you mean without you saying it; he knows your grandma well enough too.

“What did she say?” 

“First, she just wanted to know if you were safe,” Yoongi answers. “After that, she didn’t say much except that she’ll come as soon as she can.”

You nod. Knowing she’s coming brings a smile to your face, you’ve missed her a lot. Before you can respond, your stomach growls again. 

“Come on,” Yoongi says smiling, getting up and pushing the covers back, “let’s get you some food.”

“You still remember it?” Yoongi asks, a tone of surprise in his voice.

Taking another step, you shrug. “I wasn’t that little when I was last here, I must’ve been, what, eleven? Twelve?” 

“Hm, Yoongi hums. “Still impressive.” He keeps a hand hovering around you should you need him, but you’re doing just fine, walking slowly down the hall you recognise as being the third floor.

The Park Estate isn’t much different from what you remember. The estate sprawled across acres, is a masterfully designed blend of elegance and practicality. The entrance opens to a grand foyer, splitting into two distinct wings. The East Wing houses the biggest office which used to belong to Jihoon, and now you assume it would be Jimin’s. It’s flanked by a suite of offices, all of which are bathed in polished woods and leather tones, belonging to his closest men. The West Wing, larger and more personal, feels more like a home. It rises three floors (taking the space above the East Wing) to accommodate the family’s quarter’s on the top most floor, a lounge and other rooms on the second, and downstairs is a dining room, a sleek kitchen caters to formal gatherings and another lounge. 

Yoongi points out his room as you pass it, as well as naming some of the other guys whose names you try to pay attention to as you ignore the mild pain that spreads through your leg. 

As you approach the stairwell, you notice another dimly lit corridor leading off the main hallway. You can’t see anything down the corridor as you pass, only a wall with light coming from the left and you assume it continues on. 

“Jimin’s room is down there,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

“Ah,” you nod, carrying on. It makes sense for his room to be separate from the rest.

The second floor has a few extra guest bedrooms which are rarely used, and a private lounge which is different to what you remember, with a huge balcony that overlooks the gardens and the furniture has changed from mostly dark colours to a much warmer colour palette.

Downstairs, the split between the East Wing, and the West Wing is much more noticeable. The entrance to the West Wing from the grand foyer is always guarded and behind is a much more private hallway with more guards at the end for extra security, and the only way to go upstairs is from the two staircases within the West Wing. The staircase you’re approaching now takes you downstairs where the kitchen is. 

As you approach the stairwell, you freeze, your eyes landing on a painting hung up on the wall at the far end of the hall. Yoongi says your name as you begin to walk towards it, but you don’t respond as an old memory suddenly returns to your mind, from the night your father was murdered.

“Lightning…  is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel. 

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint. 

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.��

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky.  In the centre, a spear of light struck the violent waves of the sea below. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

The painting is just as vivid as you remember, and seeing it now brings tears to your eyes as you feel a bout of nostalgia. 

“My dad painted this,” you say quietly as Yoongi joins you in front of the huge canvas. 

He doesn’t say anything, but instead looks up at the painting, admiring it in its entirety as though he’s never seen it before. “It’s beautiful.”

Nodding, you blink a few times to get rid of the stinging sensation in your eyes.. You realise now that Park Jihoon was the old friend your dad mentioned; realising he called him an ‘old friend’, you know your father must’ve known in those months leading up to his death that he couldn’t trust Han-jae and Jihoon.

Just then, Yoongi’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Reading a text, he quickly excuses himself. “Come down if you can, or I’ll ask someone to come up,” he calls out as he’s already walking off towards the stairwell.

“Okay,” you answer absentmindedly, still looking at the painting.

It’s not often you allow yourself to dwell on the past, but it’s also not often that you find yourself face to face with things that remind you so much of the past. There’s a reason your grandma decided to leave Seoul all those years ago and it’s a decision you agreed with. Even when you moved back to Seoul, you knew you couldn’t return to your old home, not when all you had there was fond memories of a life that was so unfamiliar to you now. But now, standing in front of your father’s own hand painted work, a flood of memories return and you find it harder to fight the lump that settles stubbornly in your throat.

You don’t realise you’re standing there for long until you hear someone approaching behind you. Turning around, you recognise the man approaching you as one of the ones who were with Jimin that night at your home. He smiles as he comes to a stop beside you.

“Admiring the art?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” you hum, still watching his face – you didn’t realise then but now you see just how handsome he is, you feel like you can’t stop staring. 

He chuckles, glancing at the painting. “You know I was talking about the painting, not me?”

Shaking out of your daze, you smile. “Yes, sorry. I just recognised you from the other night.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry we had to meet in such a way,” he nods, still smiling. “I’m Seokjin, but call me Jin.” He extends his hand which you shake.

“Y/N, and it’s okay, not your fault.”

“How’s the wrist?” he asks, pointing to your wrist.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you answer, lifting your arm for him to see. You can still move your fingers fine, just the occasional stretch or twist of your wrist hurts. 

“Good. And the leg?”

“It’s mostly fine,” you nod.

He smiles again. “That’s good. Your wrist will heal fast, the leg might take a few weeks but it’s looking good so far. I didn’t expect you to be up so soon though,” he adds, raising a brow as though impressed.

You shrug.

 “I take it this isn’t your first time getting hurt like this?” Seokjin says casually.

 “What makes you think that?”

“You didn’t flinch that night, when we all aimed our guns at you. And the way you handled your own gun…” he shakes his head, smiling. “It definitely wasn’t your first time, and no normal person would point their gun at a mafioso at that.”

Chuckling, you turn back towards the painting again.  “I guess I like getting shot at.”

“Just like everyone else here,” he laughs. “Well, you must be hungry, Yoongi asked me to walk down with you.”

“Sure,” you nod, turning away from the painting. You can return to it later. “So what about you?” you ask Seokjin as you approach the stairwell. 

He watches carefully as you descend the first few steps. “What about me?” 

“This definitely isn’t your first time stitching someone up,” you remark. 

“Ah,” he nods. “Definitely not.”

You have to pause, reaching out for the banister to continue on. “So you’re a doctor?” 

He snorts, stepping along beside you. “No, but I should be. I’ve done this kind of stuff enough times.”

Smiling, you know his statement is true enough. Injuries like yours must be a regular occurrence in the Park household. Stepping onto the landing, you take a breather and sit on the bottom step for a moment before you continue on. At the same time, you hear hurried footsteps running towards you and Seokjin. 

“Jin hyung!” A bubbly voice sounds from down the corridor. You look towards the source and see two men who you recognise from that night – the man bun guy and the slender brown haired one behind him. They can’t see you sitting on the bottom step but as they get closer, Jin nods in your direction, turning their attention to you. 

They both smile warmly when they see you, bowing their heads. 

“Oh, miss L/N,” the first one comes forward, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.” He has an adorable bunny smile and you can’t help but return it with one of your own. 

“Nice to meet you Jungkook,” you reply, shaking his hand. “And you can call me Y/N.”

“Y/N, got it,” he nods, taking a step back so his other friend can greet you properly. 

“Hi, Y/N,  I’m Hoseok, Hobi for short,” he grins, shaking your hand. 

“Hey.” You return his handshake, feeling slightly taken aback by how relaxed these guys are compared to their stoic looks from when you first saw them. Jungkook looks like a bunny rabbit in human form, and Hoseok beams like a ray of sunshine. 

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, motioning towards your leg. 

“Um, it’s okay,” you smile. “I can still walk at least.”

He smiles with you, helping you as you start to get up. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

You hum in response, allowing Seokjin to continue walking beside you as Jungkook walks ahead, leading you to the extensive lounge. 

Distractedly, you look around the familiar room. The coffee table you’re sitting at is still the same as it was when you used to have extra helpings of dessert with Jimin, secretly given to you by the housemaid who had a soft spot for Jimin. Being here reminds you so much of your father too, and knowing how much of a huge part of his life this family was makes you miss him dearly. 

Before any of the guys notice you’re not tuned into the conversation, you return your attention to what they’re saying. It hasn’t escaped you that none of them have said anything about your identity, and you reckon it must be because Jimin hasn’t recognised you – if he did, surely he would’ve told these guys since they were there too. You’re not sure if they know anything at all about you – perhaps you should’ve asked Yoongi about that before you came down. 

Whether they know anything or not though, they keep the conversation away from anything that would involve you from sharing too much, and you realise now, how their warm smiles and easy conversation is a stark contrast to the tense memory you have of first meeting them the other day. However, there’s some missing.

“Are there more of you?” 

Jin, in the middle of swallowing a big sip of water, nods and hums. 

Hoseok answers for him. “There’s Yoongi, who you saw already, and Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin.”

“They were there the other day,” Jungkook says, his tone dimming slightly. 

“Namjoon and Taehyung will be joining us,” Jin adds, ignoring the last comment and keeping up his chipper attitude. “We always eat together whenever we can and they’re about somewhere.” 

It doesn’t escape you that he didn’t mention Jimin’s name though.

“Taehyung is probably in the wine cellar,” Hoseok says.

“Ah, yes, Taehyung loves to pick out the wine for dinner.”

Jungkook snorts. “He thinks he’s a sommelier.”

You smile. “Well, does he make a good choice?”

“I can never tell,” Jungkook shrugs.

Hoseok jerks a thumb in his direction. “He’s not matured enough.”

“Hey!” Jungkook starts, but is interrupted by Jin, glancing toward the doorway.

“Ah, speak of the devil!” 

You look up and see two more men entering. One has dark curls and sharp features, his posture relaxed but his gaze calculating as it sweeps over the room. The other one has dark grey hair and broad shoulders, wearing glasses that give him a sophisticated air. You recognise both of them from the other day.

“Yoongi said you’d come down,” the man with dark curls remarks as he approaches. His tone is calm, and a slight smile plays on his lips. “I’m Taehyung. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Hi, Taehyung,” you reply, shaking his hand. His grip is firm but not overbearing. He’s undeniably striking, and there’s something about his presence that feels both inviting and enigmatic.

The broad man steps closer, adjusting his glasses as he nods at you. “I’m Namjoon. I handle most of the boring work around here.” His smile is disarming, and his voice carries a hint of dry humour. “Finances, logistics, making sure this place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” you say, shaking his hand. His words make you curious about just how much he handles behind the scenes.

Namjoon takes a seat in the armchair across from you and sinks into it comfortably. “How are you? I imagine this isn’t how you thought your day would go.”

You smile wryly, keeping your responses guarded. “Not exactly, no.”

Taehyung sits down next to Jungkook and returns his attention to you immediately. “Yeah, you put up quite the fight. Most people would’ve frozen in your position.”

“Not the first time I’ve had to defend myself,” you reply simply, not offering much else.

There’s a beat of silence as they all exchange glances, clearly intrigued but not pressing further. You appreciate the lack of prying.

“So,” Hoseok pipes up with an ever-cheerful tone. “Yoongi mentioned you might like spicy food. We had the chef prepare something special just in case.”

“Spicy works for me,” you say, grateful for the change in subject.

Jungkook claps his hands together. “Great! That makes two of us. The food here is amazing – you’ll love it.”

As the conversation shifts to lighter topics, you glance around the room again. The faces around the table are new, but the setting is steeped in nostalgia. Flashes of your childhood in this house flit through your mind – running down these halls, playing games late into the night, and the quiet presence of your father when he was here.

You force yourself to focus, tuning back into the conversation just as Seokjin asks, “So, Y/N, what’s your impression of the estate so far?”

“It’s... different,” you reply honestly, but keep your tone light. “Bigger than I remember.”

Seokjin tilts his head. “You’ve been here before?”

You curse yourself for slipping up but recover quickly. “Not this one exactly. Just a similar setup.”

Namjoon raises a brow but doesn’t say anything else, and you’re thankful for the reprieve.

The door from the far end of the room opens, and an older woman with an apron tied around her waist steps in, carrying a pitcher of water. Her hair is neatly pinned back, and her face is composed but kind. You immediately recognize her – Ara, one of the housemaids from your childhood.

Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and something flickers in her expression. She knows who you are. You’re certain of it. But to your surprise, she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she places the pitcher on the coffee table and begins pouring water into the glasses.

“Thanks, Ara,” Jungkook says warmly, and she nods with a small smile.

When she reaches you, she hesitates ever so slightly before pouring the water, her gaze lingering on you. You hold her gaze for a beat, searching her face for any sign that she might say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she finishes and steps back, her expression carefully neutral.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Ara says softly, glancing at the rest of the table before leaving the room.

Namjoon watches her leave, then turns back to you with a faint smile. “She’s been here for a long time. Reliable, like everyone else here.”

You nod, trying to mask the unease and nostalgia that her presence has stirred up.

On the opposite side of the room, Yoongi comes in from the corridor you came through. With a smile at you, he then nods at everyone. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat before Jungkook inhales the entire table.”

Jungkook laughs, not bothering to deny the accusation. Everyone rises from their seats, and Yoongi gestures for you to follow them to the adjoining dining room.

"Taeheyung, did you choose a bottle for dinner then?" Hoseok asks.

"Of course. It’s spicy food so I brought up a Riesling."

"Nice one," Yoongi murmurs in approval.

"I want a beer," Jungkook says, with no regards to Taehyung's expression.

"More for us then."

As you walk, Namjoon falls into step beside you. “You’ll find this place can be both a refuge and a maze,” he says softly. “It’s easy to get lost, but it has its charms.”

You glance at him, wondering if there’s a deeper meaning to his words. “I’ll try not to get lost, then.”

He smiles faintly. “If you do, just call out. Someone will find you.”

Returning the smile, you find that any uneasiness you'd been feeling, begins to dissipate. It’s clear these men, while different in personality, share a bond that goes beyond mere loyalty to Jimin. You can see why they’ve been by his side for so long – they feel like a family in their own right.

Once everyone is seated at the table, conversation flows more freely and the atmosphere is surprisingly warm. Jin sits at one end of the table, serving himself a generous helping of the roasted chicken and rice dish.

“Jin-hyung, don’t hog all the drumsticks,” Jungkook whines as he watches Jin’s plate pile up.

“Then grab faster,” Jin quips with a smirk, not slowing his pace.

Taehyung leans back with an amused grin, observing the chaos. “I’m telling you, Jungkook, he does this every time. You should know better by now.”

“Should I?” Jungkook huffs dramatically. “Maybe next time I’ll just take the whole plate first.”

“Do it, and I’ll poison your portion,” Jin deadpans, but with a twinkle in his eye.

Hoseok chuckles as he passes you the salad bowl. “Don’t worry, Y/N. They act like this every meal. You get used to it.”

You smile faintly, watching them banter. It’s strange to see these men, who just days ago were all sharp glares and deadly precision, behaving like siblings teasing each other.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Do you always eat so quietly? Or are you just plotting something?”

You blink at him, caught off guard. His face is serious, but his lips twitch with suppressed amusement.

“Maybe I’m just afraid to get between Jin and his drumsticks,” you reply lightly.

Laughter ripples around the table, and Taehyung raises his glass in salute. “Smart answer.”

Jungkook grins at you between bites of food. “Yeah, but next time, you should at least try to grab a piece before Jin wipes out the whole plate.”

“I heard that,” Jin retorts, mock-offended. “I’m ensuring quality control.”

“You’re ensuring there’s nothing left for the rest of us,” Hoseok counters, sipping his water.

As the banter continues, you allow yourself to relax a little. It’s a stark contrast to what you expected when you first woke up in the Park estate. 

“By the way, hyung,” Namjoon says, turning to Jin. “Have you checked the medical inventory reports? They were due yesterday.”

“Oh, are we doing shop talk at the table now?” Jin sighs dramatically. “Can’t a guy just eat in peace?”

“It’s your own fault for procrastinating,” Namjoon replies smoothly, adjusting his glasses.

“Don’t drag me into your world of schedules,” Jin retorts. “I’m a free spirit.”

“You’re just lazy,” Jungkook interjects, earning a flick of a bread roll from Jin.

“Enough guys,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in mock exasperation.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes on the table, followed immediately by Hoseok’s. They both glance at their screens, and their smiles fade slightly. Exchanging a look, they nod in unison before standing up.

“Sorry, something’s come up,” Namjoon says, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Don’t eat all the dessert without us,” Hoseok adds with a wink as they head out.

“Like we’d wait for you,” Jin calls after them before turning his attention back to the table.

“Do they always leave like that?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Pretty much,” Taehyung replies, leaning back in his chair. “They’ve got the busiest jobs out of all of us. It’s a miracle they even sit down for meals sometimes.”

“Or they just like to be mysterious,” Jin adds, rolling his eyes. “Half the time, it’s probably nothing.”

You smile, but you feel the weight behind it all. These men might act carefree, but there’s no denying the underlying layers to their lives.

After a while, another two housemaids quietly enter to clear some of the empty dishes.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks, drawing your attention back to the table. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

You nod, brushing it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Understandable,” Jin says, rising from his seat. “You should rest. Recovering from an injury takes time.”

The others murmur in agreement as they begin to disperse, leaving you with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. The warmth of their camaraderie is undeniable, but beneath it all, you can’t shake the feeling of what’s happened, and what is undoubtedly yet to come. 

Only Yoongi remains at the table. He sits across from you and smiles. “It’s bringing back memories, huh?” He asks, seeing right through you. 

“Yep.” You look around. “Loads. I don’t know how this might sound, but it feels like I missed it.” You look across at Yoongi, expecting to see a puzzled expression but he just smiles.

“I think it’s normal. You were young when you came here and I don’t think you have many bad memories associated with the place. Only good ones, right?”

He’s right. Back then, coming here usually meant evenings filled with laughter, hiding in closets with Jimin, and Jiyoung’s occasional teasing if she was here. Your dad was still alive, and this house, in a strange way, felt like an extension of home. Now, it’s like walking through a memory you can’t decide if you’re grateful for or aching to forget.

You smile softly at Yoongi and nod, letting the silence stretch as you stand. He doesn’t press you further, only watching as you cross the room to the wide, cushioned window seat at the far end. The large pane of glass offered a view of the front of the house. Settling into the seat, you lean against the frame, your gaze drifting outward.

Outside, the estate is alive with movement. Men are stationed around the house, their presence a constant reminder of the life you’re now steeped in. From the East Wing, you spot four men climbing into a sleek black Escalade. Then your attention shifts to the house’s front steps, where Namjoon and Hoseok emerge, walking with purpose.

Behind them, another figure appears and you recognise him instantly. 

Jimin, dressed sharply from head to toe, walks across the front drive. He pauses briefly in front of his Porsche, glancing back toward Hoseok, who says something you couldn’t hear. A moment later, Hoseok and Jin climb into the car, and Jimin gets into the driver’s seat. The engine roars softly to life, and within moments, his Porsche is gliding down the private lane, the Escalade following closely behind.

Your gaze lingers on the lane until the cars disappear into the distance. Though you can’t see the estate’s gate from here, you can picture it clearly in your mind – a familiar marker from years ago.

“Where are they going?” you ask without turning, your voice quiet but curious.

“Something’s wrong with one of the shipments we received from the Takahashis. Akira has been a bit of a pain these past few months. Jimin reckons they’re now involved with the Lees and are trying to keep us distracted.”

You hum in response, saying nothing more, but your eyes stay fixed on the far-off trees that bordered the estate. Centred in front of the west wing, a fountain catches your attention, its centrepiece intricate and elegant. It reminds you of the one in Jimin’s mother’s garden and absently, you wonder if that fountain was still there.

As you shift, a sharp pang shoots through your leg, where the knife wound throbs dully. Your wrist isn’t much better, but the pain in your leg is what makes you wince audibly.

Yoongi notices immediately, his gaze darting toward you. “I think you’re due for your meds again.”

You exhale softly, nodding. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You wanna stay here or go back up?”

You push yourself to stand, biting back a groan as the strain makes your voice tight. “Mm, I know I slept for days, but I’m actually still exhausted.”

Yoongi chuckles, rising to help steady you. “That’s to be expected. Don’t worry.” He gestures toward the far end of the room. “We’ll go up, but this time we’re taking the lift.”

You can’t help but smile faintly at his consideration. “Appreciate that,” you murmur as he slides a steadying arm under yours.

The dim light of the ensuite glows behind you as you step into the bedroom, a towel draped over your head. You had just woken up after another long nap, your internal clock utterly thrown off by the days of rest. It's late now, just past midnight and the night is quiet, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the soft padding of your feet on the carpet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you absentmindedly rub the towel through your damp hair.

Your gaze drifts to the shelves by the dresser table, now stocked with an array of skin and hair care products. A small smile tugs at your lips as you stand to examine them, fingers lightly trailing over the meticulously arranged items. Appreciatively, you sit and carry out a full skin and hair care routine – after three days without it, you definitely need it. You wonder if it was Ara who must have put them here. You're certain she recognised you at dinner and when you think about it now, you think it would be nice to speak with someone familiar.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of your phone on the bed. Turning, you see the screen light up with an incoming FaceTime call. The name on the screen sends a swell of emotion through you.

“Moni?” you answer, settling back on the bed as your grandmother’s face appeared.

The sight of her brings a pang of guilt and relief all at once. Her tired eyes search your face and you can tell she must have been worrying nonstop. “Y/N,” she says softly, her voice warm. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure her quickly, though your heart aches knowing she must have been so anxious. “Really.”

She gives you a sharp look, the kind only she can manage, and her tone turns brisk. “Good. Stay safe there, you hear me? We're figuring out what's going on and Yoongi will tell you more when he can."

You nod, knowing better than to argue. Her expression softened just a little as she continued. “Tell me about Jimin.”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

“About recognizing you?” she asks, her brow lifting slightly.

You nod. “Nothing.”

She sighs, a mixture of fondness and exasperation crossing her features. “I don’t imagine he would. But I have no doubt he does. You haven’t changed much. He, however... he’s different.”

Her words hang in the air, and you find yourself looking up, your thoughts turning to Jimin.

“Life hasn’t been kind to him,” she continues, her voice tinged with melancholy. “When I last saw him, I didn’t see the same little boy I knew.”

A bittersweet smile crosses your lips. “Life hasn’t been kind to any of us.”

Your grandmother purses her lips, acknowledging the truth of your words. “Do you remember his father?”

“Of course I do,” you say without hesitation. “It’s hard to forget a man as cold as him.”

“And Mr. Lee?” she asks, her tone cautious.

You nod, already anticipating where this was headed. “I know, Moni,” you say quietly, cutting her off.

She looks up at you, her expression briefly surprised, but it fades just as quickly. "Of course, I should have expected you would piece it together."

“I know it was them,” you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “They did it. They killed Dad.”

She lets out a slow breath, her gaze steady on yours. “They were his best friends,” she says softly. “And then, all of a sudden…” She trails off.

You nod. You can only imagine that the sting of betrayal is still fresh even after all these years. Your grandmother's gaze remains on you, sharp and searching. “You’re there now, though… so, do you trust Jimin?”

You pause, memories of the night at your house flashing through your mind -- seeing Jimin in your kitchen with your gun aimed at him and he didn't retaliate in the slightest.

“I didn’t, at first,” you admit. “But I think I do. Besides, I trust Yoongi, and Yoongi trusts him."

She exhales slowly, relief evident on her face and a small smilw touches her lips. “You’re safe there, Y/N.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting her gaze. “You trust Jimin?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation. “I trust him with you, and you’re my everything.”

The words wrap around your heart, and you wish you could reach through the screen to hug her. Instead, you nod and smile.

“You need to rest,” she instructs, her tone turning firm again. “I’ll call you later. Baek-hyun and I might come to see you. I think he wanted to see Yoongi too.”

Your lips quirk up at the thought. “That would be nice.”

"Good," she nods, and you eventually exchange goodbyes.

As the screen goes dark, you set the phone down, feeling a renewed sense of comfort. The thought of her visiting makes you smile softly as you sit in the quiet of the room.

Still restless though, you wander to the window, gazing out at the sprawling grounds bathed in the moonlight. You spot three men stationed at the back of the house, conversing together as they keep watch. The gardens stretch endlessly, just as you remembered. You can’t see the part of the grounds where Jimin’s mother’s garden would have been as it's hidden beyond the trees, but it would be nice to visit it tomorrow when the light returned.

As you shift, you feel your leg still aches, but it's different this time, more like the dull stiffness of inactivity than pain. Restless energy courses through you, and you decide a walk would do you good. The house is big enough and you need to keep your legs moving.

Stepping out of your room, you close the door quietly behind yourself and hear the faint hum of distant voices and sounds that tells you that not everyone is asleep yet.

As you move through the corridors, memories of Jimin filtered into your mind -- moments you hadn’t thought of in years now rising to the surface with startling clarity and they give you a strange sense of familiarity.

Eventually, your wandering brings you to your dad's painting again. You stop in front of it, the vivid strokes of lightning and sea send a wave of nostalgia over you, gratitude mingling with sadness. You remember you have a few of your father's paintings hanging up at home too and you make a mental note to ensure they're safely retrieved.

“Can’t you sleep, little bear?”

The voice, familiar and gentle, pulls you from your reverie. You turn to see Jimin standing a few feet away.

Dressed casually now, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, he looks markedly different from the composed figure you saw earlier.

There’s a softness to him now, something that reminds you of the boy you once knew. His smile, small and tentative, feels as though it might disappear if the silence breaks too loudly.

You smile back, and the corners of his lips lift a little more.

Realising what he just said, his words stop you short – it’s the name of the book you gave to him the first time you met him, so many years ago.

Jimin steps closer, the lamp’s dim light casting soft shadows on his features.

As he nears, the subtle scent of his cologne reaches you – a delicate blend of cedarwood and something faintly sweet, familiar yet grounding. It lingers in the air between you, quietly drawing your attention to his presence.

Despite the weariness evident in his eyes, there’s a steadiness about him, a calmness that feels both reassuring and disarming.

“Y/N,” he says, your name leaving his lips quietly, as though testing how it feels after all these years. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you?”

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you admit, your voice soft. “I’m surprised you remember the book.”

Jimin’s smile grows, faint but genuine. “How could I not? I never got to thank you for it properly.”

“Thank me?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

He nods, shifting as if the memory is a tender one. “It was a comfort to me for a long time. I wasn’t allowed picture books of my own, so… thank you.”

You remember then how he once told you about his father’s strict rules. A cold man, his father likely saw no value in picture books – if they didn’t teach something useful, they weren’t worth having.

“You’re welcome,” you say softly.

Jimin’s gaze lingers on your face, and you feel a warmth creeping into your cheeks. Turning back to the painting, you focus on the familiar strokes of your father’s work.

“He was talented,” Jimin says quietly, standing beside you.

You smile faintly. “He was.”

After a moment, he adds, “I can have it moved to your room, if you like.”

You shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. This is where it belongs.”

Jimin laughs softly, the sound low and soothing. “It’s actually covering up a stain we couldn’t remove. You might remember it since it was you who put it there.”

“Me?” you ask, eyebrows rising in surprise as you look at him.

He nods, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yep. One of the nights our fathers were away, and you had to stay over. Jiyoung was babysitting us, and we were painting. When it was time for bed, you didn’t want to sleep, so you ran away from her – with all the paints.”

As he speaks, the memory surfaces, vivid and sheepishly embarrassing. “Oh gosh, I remember. I tripped, and the paint went everywhere.”

Jimin smiles wider now, clearly suppressing a laugh. “We tried to paint over it a few times, but the colours were too bright. Eventually, my dad decided to put this up.”

You shake your head, laughing softly, though you still feel a twinge of embarrassment. “I can’t believe that’s still here.”

Jimin’s smile lingers, and the space between you feels quieter, weighted by an unspoken familiarity. His eyes flicker back to the painting, then to you. “It’s been a long time since then,” he says, his voice gentle, almost reflective.

You glance at him, catching the subtle shift in his tone, something deeper beneath the surface. “Yes,” you reply, turning your gaze back to the painting. “Though being here again… it almost feels like no time at all.”

Jimin studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “I imagine it feels different,” he says, “without your father?”

“Exactly,” you answer, the memory stirring a pang of longing. “It felt safe wherever he was.”

“And now?” His question is soft, careful, as though he’s weighing each word before speaking.

You hesitate before answering, meeting his gaze. “I want to say yes,” you admit honestly, “but experience tells me not to feel safe anywhere.”

Jimin nods, his expression contemplative, and something about his calm presence makes your honesty feel less vulnerable. “You’ve learned not to trust anyone,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet understanding.

You look at him, searching his face, but his steady gaze gives nothing away except an openness that feels disarming.

“You’re right to think that,” he continues, his tone neither judgmental nor apologetic, as if he understands the walls you’ve built all too well.

The words sit between you for a moment before you ask, carefully, “Can I trust you?”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, silence fills the space between you.

“Yes,” he says, his voice quiet but certain. “But you’ll make that decision on your own.”

You nod slowly, his answer settling something inside you. There’s no urgency in his response, just a quiet assurance that feels like a small but solid anchor. It’s not a promise – it’s an invitation.

“Until then,” he continues, his voice softening, “please, make yourself at home. You’re safe here.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything else, but you catch the way he watches you, something unspoken but soft in his expression. You feel it yourself too – after so many years there is so much to say, to ask, but for now you take the peaceful quiet for what it is.

His presence feels closer now and you find yourself smiling faintly, glancing back at the painting.

It occurs to you now, how strange it is, that this time, there is something familiar that Jimin’s presence stirs in you – a reminder of what it feels like to trust, even if only a little.

note. thank you all so much for reading! please don’t be a silent reader :’) this fic takes me forever to write and I’d love for you to share your thoughts w me -- i really wanna know what you guys think! and rb toooo <3333

[landofanimes]

Akatsuki no Yona Musical Cast x Manga

The cast recreated the famous Happy Hungry Bunch manga illustration!

Mirei Hoshina as Yona, Ryono Kusachi as Hak

Tsukasa Hiryu as Yun, Rui Kihara as Kija, Shion Yoshitaka as Shin-Ah, Shou Katou as Jae-Ha, DION as Zeno

[softxsuki]

Hello! I have a request for Valentines day letter event! I would like one with Shin ah from Akatsuki no Yona x fem reader. I don't mind about pet names, so it's your choice. We’re in an established relationship for a few years (maybe we lived in the same village, friends since we were teenagers and now we are a couple, reader is in the Yona's team too). I want to see it fluff. You know, Shin ah is soo shy and doesn't know how to impress his feeling to reader with words and he writes her a letter about his true feelings, like everything he can't tell by words. Location: anywhere, somewhen while our adventure. I feel that he will silently give the letter to the reader before splitting into 2 teams. That's everything! I requesting for events for first time, I hope it's fits to the rules, thank you!!

Shin-ah's Love Letter to His Lover

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Shin-ah x Fem!Reader| Genre: Fluff| Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 960 |

Warnings: kissing

Note: Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you enjoy your letter from Shin-ah! This was one of my favorites to write &lt;3

Yona had suggested to the group to split up in the upcoming village so they wouldn’t get too many suspicious glances. There were already enough bold individuals in your group, so low profile clothes and hats to cover their colorful hair was a start to concealing your identities.

You were set to go off with Zeno, Hak, and Yona while Jae-ha, Kija, Yun, and Shin-ah went the other way. You had wanted to be in the same group as your boyfriend, Shin-ah, but when you brought it up, you could see his ears go red behind his mask as he quickly shook his head.

Slightly disappointed, you let it go, but you couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to split up with you in his group, was he upset with you? 

Just as you’re about to head in the direction your  group was set to go in, you feel a tug on your sleeve, and spin around to see Shin-ah. There’s a piece of paper rolled up and tied nicely in his hands which he quickly hands to you. He holds your hand briefly, giving it a squeeze before he runs back to his group. Jae-ha watches him with a teasing smile, smacking him on the back once Shin-ah reaches him, causing the blue-haired man to rush away from him quickly.

You can’t help the fond smile that appears on your lips, turning your attention back to the paper in your hands. Yona tells the group to start walking, which you all do, and you begin to unroll the paper and read its contents as you walk, careful not to trip over anything;

My Star,

Jae-ha told me that today was a day where men and women in his old village would come together and tell each other how much they love one another. Showing extra love, exchanging letters, and buying gifts for the one they love. I wanted to do the same, so here is my letter to start with. I’m not very good with my words, so hopefully I can convey my heart's passion for you in this writing instead.

If I am the moon, then you are my star. My sun, igniting me and giving me the light that I now have. Without you, I’m nothing but a dark mass, void of anything. Invisible to others until your light reaches me once more. My star, you shine brightly always, drawing everyone in and leaving your warmth behind. 

You were my hope back in our old village when I was hidden away. Never allowing me to be on my own and treating me like a human being the entire time when others saw me as nothing but a monster. You encouraged me to finally be free from the shackles I placed on myself and helped me experience true happiness in our new group. I don’t know how or why you decided to be my other half, but it is something I will always be grateful for. 

I know I’m not good at saying these things to you. I still can’t find my voice or courage to use it as much as I’d like. One day, I’d like to say all these beautiful things to your face as you hear me say them. I promise I will, just give me more time to find my courage. 

My star, I love you and I thank you for loving me back. I’m sorry for declining your request to split up together…I guess I’m a little embarrassed about giving this to you, but I hope you like it. Thank you for existing and being my light.

Love,

Your Moon.

You can’t control the silent tears that flow from your eyes, landing on the paper in your hands as you read over his words, two then three and four more times. No one had ever done something so romantic before. You didn’t even know he had these beautiful words about you in his heart, but you were beyond happy to read them. Perhaps the quiet ones really are secretly the most passionate. 

You tuck the note safety into your bag that was slung around you, wiping the stray tears from your eyes as you smile to yourself. You couldn’t wait to meet back up with your group so you could show your lover some of your own love for him.

You all safely make it through the village, stopping at some stalls for food or other resources that we needed to continue our journey. Yun was probably stopping in the other group to get medical supplies and other necessities he’d need as well. It didn’t take too long before you met up at your designated location, waiting for the other group to arrive.

And that’s when you see him. A sliver of blue hair beyond the trees with the rest of his group, walking towards you. You can’t help the explosion of emotions inside you, as you run the rest of the way towards him, straight into his arms, making him lose his balance for a moment before he holds you, steadying himself.

You grin from ear to ear, leaning in to press a kiss to his exposed lips,

“Your letter was beautiful, Shin-ah,” you whisper against his lips, you feel his arms tighten around you as you speak. “Thank you. I love you so much”

You see a hint of pink reach his cheeks as he lets you go and digs around in the pocket inside the cloak he was wearing to disguise himself, pulling out some flowers.

“I found them on our walk here,” he says softly, handing them to you. “I love you, too”

Your shy lover was not only sweet, but incredibly thoughtful and 1000000% yours.

Posted: 2/24/2024

[blueowlreader]

Jaeki <3

Kija secretly makes secretly a crown of flower for Jaeha but Zeno and Shin-ah discover it 🤭

[mimi-tada]

I sketch Jae ha x kija fanart to get over my momentarily art block

[ponderingmoonlight]

can you write a complilation with hak, shina, jaeha and kija with the any men getting caught up in a snow storm with you please? Thank you!!

I went ham on this and don't feel ashamed hehehe

Getting caught up in an snow storm and saved by Yona of the Dawn men

Pairings: Hak x fem! reader; Shin-Ah x fem!reader; Jae-Ha x fem!reader; Kija x fem!reader

Word Count: 6,3k (I went soo hard on this)

Warnings: Yona men being as charming as ever, reader getting saved by every single one of them, near-death experiences

To all my lovely followers and supporters out there: Even if you're not a fan of Yona of the Dawn, I'd totally appreciate you leaving a small like for this work and support me, it truly means the world <3

Hak

The wind shrieks around you, a relentless force that makes your every step feel like a battle. Snow pelts your face, tiny shards of ice biting into your exposed and icy skin. Your breaths come out in short, ragged puffs, visible in the freezing air. You can barely see Hak through the wall of white, his broad frame just a dark outline against the snowstorm.

How did the two of you end up here? You were supposed to collect a few logs of wood for princess Yona who felt cold in the castle, a pretty standard task both of you normally complete within two hours.

Normally, when there isn’t a snow storm brushing against your body so harshly that you’re barely able to stand. 

Your legs are growing heavy, the snow swallowing your steps, but Hak moves with determined ease, his hand gripping yours tightly in order for you to keep his track. Every time you stumble, he steadies you with a firm pull.

“Don’t slow down,” he grumbles, his voice rising above the roar of the storm.

“We can’t stop out here.”

Oh, you surely try. But at this point, it feels impossible. The cold is gnawing at you, your fingers and toes numb despite your gloves and boots. Another gust of wind pushes you sideways, and your legs buckle. Faster than your muscles are able to react, your knees give in and race towards the even colder snow underneath.

 Before you hit the ground, Hak’s arms are around you, strong and unwavering.

“Hey,” he says, crouching slightly to meet your eyes, his face barely visible beneath the snow clinging to his hair and cloak.

“You okay?”

You nod weakly, even though your body screams otherwise. You’ve never seen this much worry in his eyes, not when it comes to you. As one of Yona’s servants and the best female swordswoman walking this country, he never really had to concern about you. But now, with your lips turning blue, your teeth shivering uncontrollably and that emptiness that starts to fill your gaze, he can’t help but pull you closer. Why did you decide to wear that stupid dress for a stroll outside mid-December anyway?

“Just… cold,” you manage to press out.

“Cold?” he echoes with mock amazement.

“You don’t say. And here I thought you were just taking a nap in the middle of a blizzard.”

His teasing grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes, though. They’re scanning you, sharp and assessing. Are you still well enough to carry on? What will he do if you faint right here and now?

Without waiting for an answer, he scoops you up in his arms. Almost instantly, a new-found wave of heat rushes straight into your cheeks when his hand squeezes your waist, his arms almost swallowing you whole. Fuck, you hate that he does that to you, you hate the effect Son Hak has on your otherwise strong body. You never thought you’d fall for a man, never turned your head for a single male individual that came to the kingdom in order to propose to you. But Hak?

You gasp in protest, but he doesn’t even flinch at the weight of your body inside his arms.

“Stop arguing. You’re not walking in this condition. And no, you’re not heavy.”

“I can walk,” you grumble, though your trembling limbs betray you.

“Sure you can,” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“Right into hypothermia. Let me handle this, alright?”

Hak strides forward, the storm battering against him as if it’s trying to force him back. And him? He’s solid, his body a barrier between you and the worst of the cold. Every step is deliberate, each movement steady despite the snowdrifts reaching up to his knees. You hate that you can’t help but admire that bastard who managed to get stronger than you when you were only 6.

Finally, he spots a massive tree with low, snow-covered branches forming a natural canopy.

“That’ll do,” he mutters, adjusting his grip on you as he pushes forward.

When he reaches the tree, he sets you down gently against the trunk, brushing snow off the spot before you sit. His coat is off in an instant, and before you can protest, he wraps it around your shoulders.

“Hak, no,” you mutter, your teeth chattering.

“You’ll freeze-”

He silences you with a look, one eyebrow quirking upward in that signature way of his.

“Don’t start. I’ve survived worse than this. You? Not so much. Just stay put. Or do you want to keep me warm?”

You open your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes, steady and serious, stops you. Instead, you huddle deeper into his coat, the lingering warmth from his body spreading through the fabric.

“I’d rather die”, you lie gruffly.

Hak raises an eyebrow, his grin spreading slowly, almost devilishly.

“Oh, really?” he teases, his tone dripping with amusement.

“Is that so? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re practically burrowing into my coat like a squirrel getting ready for hibernation.”

Hak kneels in front of you, his hands working quickly to untangle a scarf from his bag while that dirty grin is still plastered onto his face. He wraps it carefully around your neck, his calloused fingers brushing against your chilled skin. The contact sends a spark of warmth through you, awakens that heat inside your body you never fail to miss whenever he touches you by accident.

“There. Better?”

You nod, but your shivering doesn’t want to stop. He clicks his tongue, clearly unhappy with the situation, and without warning, sits down beside you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his side.

“Maybe there’s no way around me keeping you warm, brat”, he comments with a sly grin his whole side pressing against yours.

“What are you doing?” you shriek, even as you instinctively lean into his warmth.

When was the last time you were this close to Hak? Were you ever this close to him?

“Keeping you alive,” he replies simply, his tone matter-of-fact.

“It’s kind of my job.”

“You’re not my babysitter but princess Yona’s,” you mumble, though you don’t pull away.

He chuckles, the sound low and comforting despite the raging storm.

“Oh, really? Could’ve fooled me.”

For a while, the two of you sit in silence, the storm howling around the tree but not quite reaching the small pocket of shelter you’ve found. His body is solid and warm against yours, his cloak spreading out to cover you both. Every so often, he adjusts it, ensuring not even a sliver of cold air gets in.

“Look,” he announces eventually, nodding toward the horizon. The wind shifts slightly, and you catch a glimpse of the snow-covered landscape beyond the tree. It’s bleak, but there’s a strange beauty in the endless expanse of white.

“It’s kind of peaceful,” you admit, your voice quieter now, the cold stealing your energy.

“Peaceful,” Hak repeats, snorting.

“Only you would find peace in a blizzard.”

You glance up at him, noticing the way his eyes soften as he looks at you. There’s a fondness there, mingled with his usual exasperation. Is this…affection? You’ve seen the way he looks at Yona while your eyes were glued onto him a thousand times and never failed to wonder if he’ll ever look at you the same way. With those almost soft eyes, his mouth slightly opened, his face only inches away from yours…Are you dreaming?

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”, he murmurs into the wind.

“I try,” you reply, managing a small smile.

Hak shifts, pulling you closer as another gust of wind shakes the branches above.

“Stay awake. No nodding off. You do that, and I’ll start telling bad jokes to keep you conscious. Your call.”

You groan, burying your face in his shoulder despite your heart almost skipping a beat.

“Anything but that.”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm despite the cold.

“Thought so.”

The warmth of Hak’s laugh lingers in the air, curling around you like the faintest hint of spring within the frozen storm. He shifts slightly, his arm still securely around your shoulders, and leans in just a little closer - close enough that you can see the snowflakes melting in his dark hair, the faint smirk playing on his lips while you forget to breathe.

“You know,” he begins, his tone taking on that familiar teasing lilt that always makes you both want to smack him and listen intently.

 “I think I deserve a thank-you for saving your life. Again.”

You snort softly, your breath visible in the cold air.

“A thank-you? For saving me again? I can’t remember a single time you’ve had to save me. Don’t push it, thunder beast.”

He arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your lack of gratitude.

“Thunder beast, huh? You’re lucky I’m too much of a gentleman to leave you here for the storm to chew on.”

“Gentleman?” you echo, scoffing.

“Since when?”

“Since the moment I decided not to make you walk in that ridiculous excuse for winter gear,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his shoulder.

“Seriously, were you planning to duel the snowstorm with that dress? Or were you just hoping to look so pathetic I’d have no choice but to save you? Or…did you hope I’ll take it off for you?”

Your cheeks flush—not entirely from the cold—as you glare up at him. Did he really just say that?

“I don’t need you to save me. And I don’t need you to take off my clothes”, you retort stubbornly.

“Sure, you don’t,” he agrees easily, his grin widening.

“But you do need me to keep you warm.”

He shifts again, pulling you even closer until your sides are flush against each other.

“Not that I’m complaining. I could get used to this.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth of his body and the teasing tone of his voice make it hard to stay annoyed, let alone calm down your thundering heart.

“If you’re so warm, why don’t you go out there and finish gathering the wood?” you challenge.

“Oh, I could. But then who would you snuggle up to when the storm gets worse?”

“I’m not snuggling!” you protest, pulling back slightly, only for another gust of wind to blow through, forcing you right back into the shelter of his side.

“Uh-huh,” he replies, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our little secret. To be honest, I’d love to be your little secret.”

“Hak-” you start, intending to argue, but he cuts you off with a sly grin.

“Relax. If you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask. No need to freeze half to death for an excuse.”

Your jaw drops, heat rushing to your face as his words sink in. You sputter, trying to come up with a comeback, but he just chuckles, his voice rich and warm, as if he’s already won.

“See? Speechless,” he teases, leaning back against the tree as if this entire situation was the most natural thing in the world.

“Guess I really do have that effect on you. Not that I didn’t notice the way you’re looking at me already.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to muster some semblance of control over your expression, but his grin is too infectious, his presence too comforting despite the storm raging around you. Finally, you let out a resigned sigh.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, leaning your head against his shoulder despite yourself.

“And you love it,” he shoots back without missing a beat.

You don’t reply, but the small smile tugging at your lips while you snuggle even closer to him says enough.

Shin-Ah

The blizzard roars with a cruelty that shakes the trees lining the mountainside. Shin-Ah sits quietly near the entrance of his cave, his dragon eyes piercing the white chaos outside. Snow swirls violently, carried by the howling wind, blanketing the landscape in an unrelenting storm. He’s used to the solitude of this place, the stillness that comes with living so far removed from others, but tonight the storm feels… different.

A nagging feeling tugs at his chest, a restlessness that keeps his gaze fixed on the swirling snow. Something is out there. Or rather, someone.

Then, through the blinding white, he sees it: a faint, staggering figure. At first, he wonders if it’s his imagination, a trick of the storm his mind plays on him all over again. But as the figure stumbles closer, barely a shadow against the blizzard, he knows it’s real. He watches, heart pounding as the figure collapses into the snow and stops moving entirely.

Shin-Ah doesn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, he grabs his thick fur cloak and bolts out into the storm. The snowdrifts are deep, the wind nearly throwing him off balance, but he presses forward. His boots crunch against the ice, his cloak flapping violently behind him as he approaches the fallen figure.

When he reaches you, his breath catches in his throat. Your body is half-buried in the snow, your skin pale and lips an alarming shade of blue. Your clothes are soaked and unsuitable for weather this extreme, offering little protection against the icy cold. You murmur something faint, your voice so weak it’s swallowed by the wind.

You’re…you’re a woman, the most beautiful creature he ever laid his eyes on.

Shin-Ah drops to his knees, his arms sliding under your limp body as he lifts you effortlessly. You’re lighter than he expected, your frame alarmingly cold to the touch. His grip tightens instinctively, his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

“You’re safe now,” he whispers, even though you can’t hear him.

He turns and strides back toward the cave, his body shielding you from the worst of the wind. Snow clings to his cloak, to his hair, but he doesn’t stop until you’re both inside, away from the storm’s wrath.

Who are you? And how did you end up here?

When you’re senses slowly but surely become yours again, the world feels… muffled. Warmth wraps around you like a cocoon, chasing away the bone-deep chill that had consumed you. What happened last? Weren’t you out frantically looking for a shelter in the cold? But why? Why did you leave the safety of your house? Because your brother, your father…Your father…

It takes effort to open your eyes, your body still heavy with exhaustion. Because something horrible happened back home, because you were supposed to die next. You had no choice but to leave everything you knew and loved behind.

The flickering glow of a fire dances against the rocky walls of a cave, casting long shadows. How did you end up here?

It’s then you notice the weight against you. No - around you.

A strong arm encircles your back, pulling you gently against a broad chest. The heat radiating from him is overwhelming, but it’s the only thing keeping you from freezing again. You shift slightly, your head tilting up to see the person who saved you.

A man, to be exact.

His golden eyes meet yours, wide with worry and a hint of relief and shock. His face is partially obscured by a mask, but the parts you can see - his pale blue hair, the soft curve of his jaw, the glint of his eyes from behind that mask - are striking. He looks… ethereal.

“You’re awake,” he declares, his voice quiet but filled with unmistakable concern.

Your lips part, but no words come out at first. Your throat feels dry like the desert, and your mind is sluggish as you try to piece together what happened. Memories of the storm surface -its cruelty, your body failing against the cold, and then… this man. He saved you, right?

“Where am I?” you manage to whisper, your voice raspy.

“My cave,” he answers simply, his words hesitant, as if unsure how much to say.

“You were in the snow. I… found you.”

You shift slightly, wincing at the ache in your limbs. The fur cloak wrapped around you smells faintly of the woods, and its warmth is comforting. As your body continues to defrost, the reality of your situation sets in. You were alone in the storm, and without this stranger’s intervention, you might not have survived.

“You saved me,” you mutter softly, your voice tinged with awe.

He nods, but his gaze drops, as though he’s embarrassed by the admission. A complete stranger around your age just saved you?

You shiver involuntarily, the cold still clinging to your edges. Without thinking, you press closer to him, seeking out the warmth he offers with the chaos that occupies your mind. His body stiffens slightly, his golden eyes flickering with something you can’t quite name, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he adjusts his hold on you, his arm tightening around your shoulders as he pulls the cloak more securely around you both.

“Don’t let go,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

His eyes widen, surprise flashing across his features. For a moment, he looks as though he might speak, but instead, he nods, his grip on you firm and steady.

Did you…just ask him to hold you? You, that foreign but stunning girl he just met? To be honest, he didn’t have the chance to greet a lot of females those past years.

But none of them were as stunning as you. None of them made him take off his mask, let alone force him to stare for hours.

“You’re still cold,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost shy.

You don’t answer, instead nestling deeper into his warmth by instinct. The steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek is soothing, a rhythm you didn’t realize you needed until now. You haven’t felt this safe in a long time.

As the minutes stretch on, the tension in his body begins to ease. His hands, large and calloused, adjust the cloak again, and his movements are careful, almost tender.

“Thank you. For saving me.”

He meets your gaze, and for a moment, you think you see a faint blush dust his cheeks, though it’s hard to tell in the dim firelight.

“You… shouldn’t have been out there,” he replies, his tone laced with quiet worry.

“I didn’t expect the storm,” you admit.

“I was trying to make it to shelter.”

His brows furrow slightly, and he glances toward the cave entrance, as though still wary of the storm beyond.

“You’re safe now,” he mumbles, his golden eyes meeting yours again.

The warmth of his arms, the gentle crackling of the fire, and the safety of the cave create a bubble of peace you hadn’t thought possible after the chaos of the storm. Slowly, your eyelids grow heavy again, but this time, the exhaustion feels manageable – bearable, even tolerable with his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Stay,” you murmur, your voice tinged with sleepiness as you clutch the edge of his cloak.

His eyes soften, and though he says nothing, his arm around you tightens ever so slightly.

“I’ll stay,” he whispers after a moment, his voice so quiet it’s almost lost in the crackling of the fire.

And as you drift off, warm and secure in the arms of this stranger, you can’t help but feel like you’ve found something more than just shelter from the storm.

Jae-Ha

The storm hits hard, the sea turning into a thrashing beast of dark waves and biting wind. Snow whirls through the air, sticking to the decks and the sails of the pirate ship as it rocks and creaks against the violent ocean. Jae-Ha stands near the prow, his sharp emerald eyes scanning the endless horizon of white and grey. Huh, what an unpleasant surprise. He was never able to enjoy the gashing wind of white, especially while being out on the dark sea.  

The captain barks orders to the crew, their voices rising above the howling wind as they secure the rigging and steer the ship away from the worst of the waves. But Jae-Ha’s focus is elsewhere. Something feels off today, the way the shore in the distance moves feels so foreign.

It’s then he sees something - or rather someone. A small, fragile figure hovering unsteadily on a drifting piece of wreckage, bobbing dangerously close to the jagged rocks.

“Captain!” Jae-Ha calls, his voice slicing through the storm like a blade.

The captain turns, her face grim.

“What is it, brat?”

“Someone’s out there,” Jae-Ha replies, pointing toward the figure.

The captain hesitates, glancing at the churning sea and the relentless storm.

“The waves are too rough. It’s suicide to go out now. Even for you.”

Jae-Ha’s smile is sharp and determined as he steps toward the ship’s edge.

“Fortunately for them, I’m not particularly afraid of a little danger.”

Without waiting for permission, he leaps into the air, his dragon’s leg propelling him high above the waves. The cold wind cuts through him, but he doesn’t falter, his gaze locked on you.

You’re barely clinging to the broken plank of wood, your fingers numb and stiff from the freezing spray. Your body is drenched, the cold seeping into your bones, and your strength is fading fast. Each wave threatens to drag you under, and you’re starting to think this is it.

Oh, you definitely didn’t expect your life to end like this. Just yesterday, you knocked on that door asking for work before ending up as a prisoner ready to get sold.

Is this really how your life ends now? In that cold sea you normally love so much looking at, the ocean you long for each and every night, now your ice cold grave?

Then, out of nowhere, a shadow appears above you. A man descends from the sky like a vision, his green hair flowing wildly in the wind, his piercing gaze locked onto you. Before you can process what’s happening, strong arms wrap around you, lifting you effortlessly from the icy grip of the sea.

“Got you,” he comments, his voice warm and steady despite the chaos around you.

You barely manage to look up at him, your vision blurry and your lips too cold to form words. He holds you securely, his body radiating warmth, and you can’t help but lean into him as your consciousness fades, forcing you straight into sweet nothingness.

When you wake, the first thing you notice is the warmth. Soft blankets are wrapped around you, and a flickering lantern casts a warm glow over the small cabin you’re in. The sound of muffled voices and the creaking of a ship’s hull reaches your ears, and the faint smell of salt and damp wood lingers in the air.

“Ah, so you’re finally awake,” a smooth, teasing voice declares.

You turn your head and see a man – without any doubt, the one who saved you from that cold sea. He’s sitting beside the bed you’re lying in, his long legs crossed gracefully, his chin resting on one hand as he watches you with a playful smile.

“Where…?” you croak, your throat dry and your voice weak.

You’re still feeling too weak to even think properly, the cold still sitting in your core.

 “You’re on the Sea Dragon,” he replies, leaning back slightly.

“A pirate ship, if that doesn’t scare you too much. Though I’d say you’ve been through scarier things lately.”

The memories come rushing back - the storm, the waves, the freezing cold. You shiver at the thought, and his smile softens.

“Easy there,” he coos, leaning forward to tuck the blankets more securely around you.

His hands are warm, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone with such a commanding presence and piercing gaze.

“You’re safe now.”

You blink up at him, taking in his striking features. His green hair falls loosely around his shoulders, and his violet eyes are both sharp and kind. There’s a mischievous glint to him, but beneath it lies something deeper, something steady and reassuring.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles softly, the sound rich and comforting in your still echoing ears.

“No need to thank me. It’s not every day I get to play the hero. Though I must say, you certainly know how to make an entrance - floating out there like some tragic damsel in distress.”

His tone is light, teasing, but there’s genuine concern in his gaze as he reaches out to brush a strand of damp hair from your face.

“You’ve been through a lot. Just focus on warming up for now”, he continues with a soft tone lacing his seductive voice.

As he speaks, he pours a steaming cup of tea from a kettle on the small table beside the bed. He holds it out to you, his movements graceful but deliberate.

“Here. This should help.”

You take the cup with trembling hands, the heat seeping into your fingers. He doesn’t look away, his watchful eyes ensuring you’re steady before he releases the cup.

For a while, the two of you sit in silence, the storm still raging outside but feeling a world away within the cozy cabin.

“Why… did you save me?” you ask eventually, your voice small.

Back in your hometown, nobody really cared for something apart from your looks. You were always expected to marry one of those stinky officers, the most disturbing man living on this earth. To be honest, you would’ve rather died on there on the sea than marrying a man who beats a woman just for the fun of it. But that man sitting next to you…Does the sparkle in his eyes mean that he genuinely cares?

Jae-Ha’s smile softens, and he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Because I could,” he replies simply.

“And because no one deserves to be left alone out there.”

There’s a sincerity in his voice that catches you off guard, a vulnerability beneath his teasing exterior.

“Dying out there on the sea would have been better than getting sold to one of those disgusting officers”, you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jae-Ha’s eyes widen slightly at your outburst, the corners of his teasing smile faltering. For a moment, his playful demeanor slips, revealing a flicker of anger - not directed at you, but at the cruel fate you narrowly escaped. He heard rumors about beautiful girls getting kidnapped and sold, how they got ripped out of their homes straight into slavery and old men’s beds. How much he hates them, how badly he wants to hunt them down and kill them for doing…

His gaze meets your still haunted eyes, your empty expression. No, this isn’t the time to think about something like that.

Then, just as quickly, his grin returns, though softer and less sharp this time.

“Is that so?” he muses, his voice warm and low.

“Then I suppose I’ve done more than save your life - I’ve rescued you from a fate far worse than the sea’s cold embrace.”

He leans closer, his intense gaze locking with yours.

“You’ve certainly had quite the adventure, haven’t you?”

His words carry a touch of humor, but there’s no denying the genuine concern in his tone. He reaches out again, his fingertips brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek. Oh, if he only knew what a mess your life was until now.

Until now? Your eyes lock with his out of instinct, take in that easy grin that rests on his face. Even though you don’t even know that stranger’s name, he surely feels better than that miserable fate that was ahead of you. Maybe, just maybe…

You’re safe now.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the warm cocoon of the blankets, the heat from the tea in your hands finally reaching your core. Despite the lingering fatigue and the faint tremor in your limbs, you feel safer here than you ever did back home.

Jae-Ha studies your expression, his smile taking on a softer, almost fond quality.

“You’re quite the mystery, you know. And I’d love to hear the full story someday. But for now, let’s focus on getting you back to feeling human again.”

You nod weakly, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. The warmth, his soothing voice, and the rhythmic creaking of the ship are lulling you into a much-needed rest. As your grip on the tea cup slackens, Jae-Ha deftly takes it from you, setting it aside with practiced ease.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs, his tone softening even further.

“You need rest. And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promised?”, you mutter.

“Totally promised, fine lady.”

You barely register his words as sleep overtakes you. Your body shifts slightly, instinctively seeking out the closest source of warmth. Before either of you realizes it, your hand finds his, your fingers curling weakly around his as you drift off. Your head tilts, leaning toward him, and before long, you’re nestled against his arm.

Jae-Ha freezes for a moment, caught off guard by your unconscious closeness. His expression softens further, a mix of amusement and tenderness playing across his features.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” he murmurs to himself, his voice barely audible above the muffled storm outside.

Carefully, he adjusts his position, allowing you to lean against him more comfortably. He pulls the blankets higher, tucking them securely around you, his movements uncharacteristically cautious. As your breathing evens out, Jae-Ha leans back slightly, watching you with an expression that’s unusually serious for him.

“Rest easy,” he whispers, his voice almost lost in the gentle creak of the ship.

“No one’s going to hurt you now.”

And despite the storm raging outside, the cabin feels like the calmest place in the world.

Kija

The snowstorm came down on you with an almost vengeful fury, battering your body with icy wind and stinging flakes of snow when you only went out to find medicine for your mother. Each step is a struggle, your limbs growing heavier by the second. The forest path is long gone, erased by the blizzard’s wrath, and all you can do is press forward in the hope of finding shelter. A warm place, maybe even a fire…

Your cloak is soaked through, its weak protection no match for the elements. Every breath leaves a sharp sting against your throat, and your vision blurs as exhaustion sinks deeper into your bones.

“Just… a little further,” you whisper to yourself, though the words barely reach your ears over the roar of the storm.

You don’t know how much longer you can last. But just when you’re about to lose hope, faintly, through the swirling snow, you see a light - a small, warm glow flickering against the white chaos.

Desperate, you stumble toward it, your legs barely holding you upright. Is it a cave, a little village, even? The glow grows brighter, steadier, and soon you see its source: a man holding a lantern at the edge of an enormous rock. His white hair gleams in the dim light, and his piercing blue eyes widen in alarm as they lock onto you.

What a strangely beautiful man, something you’re never seen before. Maybe he’ll be able to help you, maybe he knows a place where both of you can stay-

Before you can call out to him, your strength gives out, and you collapse into the snow.

“Hey!”

His voice is sharp with concern, and within moments, he’s at your side, kneeling in the snow.

You distantly feel his hands on your shoulders, warm and strong, as he lifts you into his arms. Normally, you’d protest vehemently against a stranger picking you up and carrying you like a bag of rice. But under this conditions, with your fingertips already numb from the nagging cold, you can’t help but nuzzle against his neck.

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs, his voice laced with worry.

“Hold on - I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

Somewhere safe, huh? While darkness stretches over you like a veil, you can’t help but imagine a warm bed near a fireplace with that stranger lying beside you…

When you come to, the first thing you notice is the crackling of a fire and the soft scent of pine. Warmth envelopes you, the biting cold a distant memory now. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself lying on a bed of soft furs, a thick blanket tucked snugly around you.

“Awake at last,” a gentle voice says.

You turn your head to see the man from the storm. He’s seated beside the fire, his elegant features illuminated by its glow. His white hair cascades over his shoulders, and the faint markings on his pale skin catch the light, giving him an otherworldly appearance.

You fainted. When did you lose consciousness? How did you end up here?

“You gave me quite the scare,” he continues, his tone light but tinged with genuine relief.

“Where…?”

 Your voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“You’re safe,” he assures you.

“We’re in my residence, not far from where I found you. The storm hasn’t let up, but this place will keep you warm and dry until it passes.”

His words are reassuring, but your thoughts are still sluggish, the events of the blizzard a hazy blur in your mind. Your gaze wanders around the well-decorated room without a real aim, taking in the gorgeous sight of white dragons engraved into the ceiling above.

“You saved me,” you say softly, the realization dawning on you.

He smiles faintly, his gaze steady and kind.

“I couldn’t leave you out there. You were half-buried in snow by the time I reached you.”

He reaches for a steaming cup beside the fire and offers it to you.

“Here. It’s a medicinal tea. It should help warm you from the inside.”

You accept it gratefully, your trembling hands barely able to hold the cup steady. His fingers briefly brush against yours as he steadies it, the contact sending a strange warmth through you that most definitely has nothing to do with the tea.

“Thank you,” you mutter after taking a cautious sip.

He inclines his head, a soft flush coloring his cheeks.

“There’s no need for thanks. Helping others is… important to me.”

The minutes stretch into hours as the two of you wait out the storm. He tends to the fireplace with practiced care, occasionally glancing over to check on you. Despite the fierce wind howling outside, the well-decorated room feels like a sanctuary, the warmth of the fire and his quiet presence a balm to your frayed nerves.

Eventually, you find your voice again.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Kija,” he replies, his tone gentle but measured.

“I was passing through the area when the storm hit.”

He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the fire.

“I didn’t expect to find anyone else out in such conditions. But I watched you from the window and couldn’t leave you out there alone.”

You nod, still trying to piece together how you ended up here.

“I was gathering herbs. I thought I could make it back before the weather turned, but…”

A small, wry smile tugs at his lips.

“The mountains are unpredictable. You’re fortunate my village is nearby.”

His words aren’t boastful - they’re simply true. Still, you can’t help but feel a pang of gratitude for this kind stranger who had risked the storm to save you.

As the fire crackles on, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm of conversation. Kija’s calm demeanor and soft-spoken nature put you at ease, and you find yourself opening up in ways you hadn’t expected.

When another gust of wind rattles the small cracks underneath the window, you shiver involuntarily, the memory of the storm still fresh in your mind.

“Are you still cold?” Kija asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

“A little,” you admit, though you try to downplay it.

After all, Kija just opened up about him successor of something that is called the white dragon, a droplet of dragon blood that gave him the power of a dragon’s claw. He’s like a king in this village, a god to the people who look up to him. How did you never hear about the four dragons before?

Without a word, he shifts closer to you, wrapping the edges of the blanket more securely around your shoulders. His hand lingers for a moment, warm and steady against your arm.

“You’re shaking. Come closer to the fire.”

You hesitate, but the genuine worry in his eyes convinces you. He adjusts his position, leaving just enough space for you to sit beside him.

As you settle near the fire, his proximity sends a new kind of warmth through you - one that has nothing to do with the flames. You glance at him, taking in the way his features soften as he watches the firelight dance.

“Thank you,” you mumble again, the words feeling inadequate for the depth of your gratitude.

He turns to you, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me.”

“I mean it,” you insist, your voice trembling slightly.

“If you hadn’t found me…”

Kija’s smile fades, and he looks down, his expression turning serious.

“You don’t need to think about that. You’re here now. Safe. That’s all that matters.”

Something in his voice - a quiet resolve, a protective instinct - makes your heart ache in the best way. Despite the storm raging outside, you feel more at peace than you have in days, maybe weeks.

For a moment, the two of you simply sit there, the silence between you filled with unspoken understanding. The fire crackles on, and outside, the storm slowly begins to ease.

Just like the storm inside you.

[found-family-tournament]

Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 9 Group 44

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch: Yona, Son Hak, Yoon, Kija, Shin-Ah, Jae-Ha, Zeno

MSR: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully

Submissions are still open!

Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch:

Sorry, I got no propaganda for them yet :(

MSR:

Sorry, I got no propaganda for them yet :(

[cds060]