#the image of him in bed with reading glasses on skimming some document before bed

[lazer-screwdriver]

I’ll never be able to get over the fact the master had, for ~18 months, a presumably normal human marriage. Do you think he got yelled at for leaving the toilet seat up.

[eternalmarvel]

MK1 BI-HAN X READER ~ feint ~

an: no wayy almost close to 100 notes in just a day of posting my first work in so long thanks so much everyone 🫶 in honour of this ill be posting a short drabble (lets see how long this really is after im done writing) anyways this work is inspired by THIS tiktok linked below vvv !! if u don't watch it u won't understand what prompted this fic so highly advise u watch this before u read

note: bi-han and reader are married in this story

also guys this story WILL be having bespectacled bi-han bc u can NOT tell me that man does not wear reading glasses when he gets older. i can totally see his vision getting worse and him having to begrudgingly resort to glasses to read documents and books .... i included a rough image of what that looks like (dont come for me im not an editor)

it was not often that you saw your husband battered from kombat. most days when he went out to spar or fight, there's be a few bruises and scratches here and there sure, but nothing that was so severe that you had to sit down and tend to his wounds. even if he did get injured, most of the time he patched himself up before you could lay eyes on him. it was a bright fall day at the lin kuei stronghold, with most of the ombre-braised leaves littering the ground of the courtyard. you had taken over as a mentor at the lin kuei, focusing on the academics of each initiate's journey to becoming a ninja (though it took a lot of convincing your dear old husband before he ever agreed to let you onboard).

~~

"c'mon, bi-han. you can't just train the initiates physically. they gotta be trained mentally too! you can't possibly think the only problems people face are the ones in front of them -- it's the ones that are in their heads that they gotta defeat too."

bi-han propped himself up against the headboard of your marital bed, his hair messy around his head with his feet outstretched in a relaxed manner (which was much too rare for the grandmaster). he had his reading glasses on and a lounge hanfu wrapped loosely around his body, skimming some documents. rather than entertaining your antics, he ignored you and continued to read the ledger in front of him. you groaned sheepishly, prompting bi-han to look up at you with a hint of annoyance, as you plopped yourself right beside him.

"it's a good idea and you know it.....you just won't admit it..," you playfully pouted. bi-han continued to skim through his document as he gently ran his fingers through your hair and your scalp, prompting a deep sigh from you.

"not a sustainable idea, (name)." you quickly got up and faced him, determined to make a point. "i can make it sustainable! you have to give me a chance to prove it though."

bi-han closed his reading and you could now see the glasses perched up on the plateau of his nose. he was older now and his cryomancy did no favours for his vision -- as he increased his use of snow, his vision degraded. it was you that gave him the nudge to rectify his vision but he didn't budge, said that his vision was fine. it took getting suckerpunched by a VERY apologetic initiate at close-range for him to finally realize that his vision was nowhere where it used to be and if he wanted to retain his position as grandmaster, changes were going to have to be made. you made sure to help pick out his glasses, choosing the frames and lens meticulously and helping him put them on. you could hardly control ur salivation looking at him try on reading glasses that made him look all sophisticated and scholarly. after much pushback, you both decided on a subtle and sleek pair that wouldn't garner too much foreign attention (spoiler alert: it absolutely did). the first few days that bi-han wore the glasses, everyone found it hard to pry their eyes away from him. tomas had to stifle his giggles out of fear that bi-han would strangle him, kuai couldn't help but tease him everytime he laid eyes on his glasses, and the younger initates mistakenly (accidentally? who knows) referred to him as "dad."

bi-han leans forward, his hair clinging to his face, leaning for a kiss but you put your hand between the two of yours' lips as a barrier.

"you get nothing unless you agree to my idea, grandmaster."

bi-han leaned back against the headboard, faced towards you. he took a few brief moments to speak before giving you a soft small smile and gazing at you cautiously with his mellow brown eyes.

"if that is what my wife wishes," he whispers lowly.

~~

you had given most of the initates a set of books that they were to have studied by the end of the year. this prompted a bunch of groans and boos from some of the students, seeing that they wanted to get to the 'ninja' side of things rather than slowly well-rounding all their skills. no one dared to personally say anything to you though, considering you were the grandmaster's wife and any complaint directed at you would be personally dealt with by the grandmaster himself (and it would not go well for the complainant).

you drew out an elaborate web of themes and concepts on the board in front of you.

"alright students, which one of you would like to tell me what this represents. how can we use it practically in our routine?," you say, pointing to one of the themes on the board. the room was pitch silent and you could hear a few yawns here and there.

"come on guys. i'm not doing this for myself, i'm doing this to help you guys out. the quicker you guys can answer this, the quicker we can get out of here," you say matter-of-factly. before you can continue on with your lesson, you hear people arguing and yelling outside. 2 of the initiates at the back of the room pry open the training room's doors ajar so they could take a look and listen to what was going on outside, but you didn't entertain this at all. yelling, fighting, whatever it may be, it was a stronghold, of course it would be common.

"hey. there is nothing going on outside that you need to be familiar with more than what we have in here. pay attention to the lesson please!" you exclaimed with an exasperated expression. the initiates nodded their head and let out a meager "sorry ma'am" for their inconvenience.

"now, everyone. as i was saying, wh-" before you could finish your sentence, the doors to the training room were thrown open. you could probably punch a whole through the wall with all the anger you were feeling. who the hell decided this time that it was a good idea to interrupt you?

"(name), ma'am, the grandmaster is injured and i think you should take a look at him," one of the initiates breathlessly whispers. it's clear that he ran all this way to get your attention.

"what?! oh my god......is his condition stable right now? is he doing okay? where is he?" you exclaimed.

the initiate gestured you to follow him and you agreed.

"alright students, just a mere diversion but by the time i get back, you all better be done the next chapter because i'm gonna grill you on it!" you proclaimed as you zoomed down the stronghold's corridors. when you finally made it to the room bi-han was in, you walked in to see kuai, tomas, sektor, and cyrax crowded by his bed in the infirmary.

"bi-han...." you whispered quietly as your eyes went wide. your husband was laying in the bed, resting like a mummy. bandages curtained his chest, arms, and forehead. his face was stressed -- he was asleep and yet a frown graced his face indicating that he was conscious but unaware of his surroundings. your first instinct was to push past sektor and sit down beside bi-han on the chair. kuai had intentionally left the seat empty so that you could comfort bi-han.

"how the hell did this happen kuai?" you asked, furiously. kuai grimaced at your expression.

"don't blame this on me, (name). he's your husband. you know he takes too much on himself and then ends up all injured."

you looked at the physician who had just finished cleaning up your husband's wounds in desperation, wondering what the hell even happened.

"he's alright. i've patched up any severe wounds and stuck him to an IV. you'll have to nurse him for the next few days though." the bespectacled physician prompted, pushing his glasses to the ridge of his nose.

you chuckled, putting your hands on your bandaged husband's chest, caressing him. "nurse him? what is he, a baby? you said he should be fine."

the physician prepares for a response before bi-han stirs awake. you smile at him as you await him to fully regain consciousness.

"huh....who is....wha..." bi-han murmurs as his eyes adjust to the natural lighting of the infimary.

"bi-han....you're awake! i'm glad." you smile brightly, as your hands move up and down his treated chest. bi-han glances between your hands on his upper body and you, before letting out a loud groan and plopping his head back on his pillow.

"don't."

you look at him confused. "what?"

"i have a wife......she'll kill you if she finds out you've laid your hands on me," he says sternly with his hoarse voice.

you get up from your seat and lean in closer to him with a big smile shone across your face, a light blush spread across your cheeks. you found it adorable that even in such a horrible condition, your husband was loyal to you and you only. kuai looks confused at bi-han, wondering if dementia has caught up to him after all these years while tomas lets out a small chuckle at what his grandmaster was saying knowing that bi-han is too weak to really do or say anything to him.

"i am your wife, my love."

bi-han looks back at you with a neutral expression on his face and you can see his face shift into surprise, then pure flush. you stand there beautifully over him with the hair moved from your face, your scent lingering over him. there is a perfect mix of concern and amusement engraved into your expression, much to bi-han's arousal. a heavy blush creeps onto his face, unlike one you've seen before, and the monitor regulating his heartbeats goes off the charts. it's evident that bi-han's heartrate has boosted EXPONENTIALLY.

"well i'll be damned. our grandmaster might just have a crush on someone." cyrax states. you and the rest of the ninjas turn around and look to cyrax, chuckling but bi-han's gaze remains on you. it's almost as though he is in awe that he married someone like you.

"clear the room," you demand authoritatively. the ninjas and the physician bow their head and comply with your demand, leaving you and your husband alone in the emptiness of the infirmary.

"do you need more heat? are you doing okay my love?" you ask as you get closer to your husband. he looks at you carefully before speaking again.

"perhaps....a little more heat." you smile and obey, grabbing a few candles from the cupboard in the corner of the room and bringing it closer to him. bi-han props himself up against his pillow and disregards everything you're doing just to stare at you. it puts a bit of pressure on you and you get nervous. even if he was on litres of morphine, he was still a LITTLE intimidating. he grabs your forearm gently and starts to bring you close.

"i meant in perhaps a different manner....."

you entertain him.

"i'll let your wife know that you desire to engage in intimate relations with me," you smirk bringing yourself closer to him. he leans back and looks at you in pure confusion and a hint of disgust.

"but i t-"

you ignore his protests and put your lips on his, murmuring "joke, my love" into his mouth as he kisses you back passionately. the morphine was doing its job and bi-han was entranced by the passion. you could get used to your husband being all submissive like this for you for a while now.

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | i

genre: vampire!jaehyun [ mature | angst | smut ]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“father, i dreamt about a boy

his hands, bloodied

eyes like the shot of dawn

with the rebellion in his mouth

he tried to conquer

the moon

with the venom of his prayers

he tried to

search for a god

pray tell me father,

how do i love him

with no flesh, all blood

heaven help us,

how could he love me

if i am the sun?”

— jungcity, bane of the devil // i

Raindrops danced in the air as they fall from the clouds with the squalling winds intensifying the impact of it against the glass window panes. The murmurs and complaints filled the whole room, your classmates begging your professor to turn off the air conditioner. Your mechanical pencil lay forgotten above your table as you stare at the horizon from your seat beside the window. Oh, how you longed for your bed in this cozy weather.

Seven a.m. to seven p.m. class should be classified as a mortal sin— you could not, in the life of you, understand that type of abomination. It is cruel beyond reckoning. Especially when you sit on a room of thirty people, doing nothing as the heavy drops of rain and the cool atmosphere it provides slowly lulls you to slumber.

The only thing that prevented you from doing so was the loud slap of your professor’s hands on table, his voice echoing off the walls of the room. “Alright! Stop chattering!” He yelled as he raised a piece of paper in the air.

You slumped back in your seat. Here we go again. Every time your professors raise their hands while holding papers, you could not help but release a groan.

“Here is the plan for your next plate,” he started. “Photocopy it, take a picture of it, it’s up to you.” He then handed the papers to the student in front. You stared as your classmate’s face crumpled into a grimace while he skimmed the document. That— without a doubt— would also be your face once you get a hold of the plan.

“Just like the last time, bind your A3 papers with two fasteners. There must be a separate sheet for the front page. And please,” the professor exhaled, “Please don’t forget your names! How would I give you a failing grade if I don’t know who you are.” The groans rose up again from the students, your own commixing with the chaos of curses and prayers and the laugh of your professor.

“Hey, hey! Haechan!” You grabbed your friend’s shirt as he scurried off to your classmate in the front row. “Take a picture and send it to the group chat.”

He snatched his shirt away from your grasp while glaring at you, “I know! I know! Wait here.” Then he pulled out his phone, waving it onto your face before dashing to your classmate who has the plan.

You fished for your own phone inside your bag when a boy sat in front of you. He rested his arm on your table and propped his chin on his palm. “Damn, I’m surely gonna die before this semester ends.” Mark groaned, his eyes looking at your table.

You chuckled from your seat, “Three major plates to go, buddy.”

“I’m gonna sell my soul to Satan so I don’t have to do any of this bullcrap.” Haechan threw his phone on to the table. Luckily, you caught it before it slid down and shattered on the hard floors. He let out an infuriated sigh before grabbing one of the chairs and sitting on it beside your table.

“It’s that bad?” Mark grimaced as he pressed the power button of Haechan’s phone. The light of the screen illuminated his soft features in an instant, “Wow. Your phone’s brightness could blind a person,” Mark stated while blinking rapidly.

Haechan said nothing as he leaned his head on your table. You peek at the phone yourself, Mark slowing down his scrolling as you leaned closer.

“Five-storey residential? What?!” You exclaimed. Tons of plates are slowly piling up to you bedroom. Your drafting table could not even hold them anymore, they are littered all over the mattress and the whole place. As your eyes scrutinized the image of the plan, Mark let out a curse as he read the requirements of the residential building.

“Oh, no. The measurements are given,” Mark exchanged glances with you. “I won’t do this shit.” Then the phone toppled over the table again after Mark threw it. Haechan snatched his phone back with a special glare meant only for Mark before laying his head back on the table.

The rain continued to ravage the roof and the ground as the three of you rested your heads on your desk. Chatters and the shuffling of drafting materials once again dominated the whole room, with a few of your classmates cursing at the back as they play their online games.

“I had at least thirty-minutes of sleep today,” you declared. Your eyes feels heavy and your body seemed to be softening and turning into jelly by the sleep deprivation.

“Wow. I didn’t even have a blink of sleep myself.” Haechan mumbled, face still covered by his arms.

After your heavy nap, the three of you woke up with red-rimmed eyes. If you could continue sleeping in your room until tomorrow, you would. But of course, that is not possible.

Your classmates started to pack their things as the professor came back and dismissed the whole class. It has always been like that; your prof giving yet another plan and then dismissing the whole class two or three hours earlier than the scheduled time. You would have not attended today’s class if not for the other plates that needed to be submitted.

Despite the sullenness of your house because of your brother’s absence, you still wanted to go home and nap. It does not matter if you have mountains of plates to do, what truly matters is you, going home to the tranquility and safety of your house before midnight. It was a habit you’ve grown accustomed to since the untimely death of your parents.

Your path goes different ways from Mark and Haechan. That’s why you sat alone in the bus as they stand in the waiting shed while waiting for theirs. Both of them waved at you, mouthing the words ‘take care’. You answered them with a slight wave of your hand before putting on your earbuds.

The rain has calmed down already, leaving the stores drenched, the highway splotched with circles of rainwater. Yet the lightning still dominated the skies, white lights flashing like roots reflected in your irises as you stare at the bleakness of the heavens through the bus’ windows. The speed of the vehicle made everything blurry; from the blustery wind slapping against the trees to the lights from different stores. They filled your sight as the music continued to blast in your ear.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, stopping the music. You glanced at the screen and saw your brother’s caller ID. Johnny. Automatically, your brow shot up to your forehead. He has been away for two weeks now, doing God only knows what on the other side of the ocean. Of course, your big brother calls every night to check up on you. But tonight, he called earlier than usual.

You attempted to slide the green button when your cell phone flew away from your grasp, your head hitting the seat in front of you, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Loud protestations echoed from the students and elders alike, their own faces bedraggled as they recover themselves from the impact of the bus drawing to a halt.

“What happened?” An elderly woman asked, her hand on the middle of her chest while breathing heavily.

“There’s a person who crossed the road.” The conductor explained, but his words sounded unsure.

The woman’s eyes widened, “Is the person alright?” She stood up from her seat, one hand grabbing the railings in front of her.

“That’s what we’re confused about, Ma’am. The person is nowhere on the asphalt. He ran with a dashing speed… it’s impossible.” You didn’t know if it was amazement or fear that was laced with the conductor’s voice, but his statement caught your attention nonetheless.

The nagging curiosity inside your chest spreads like wild fire. If ever your intuition is right, you have to find that person or whatever that is. A speed like that could only be achieved by one creature. Your brother might call you a freak or a delusional little girl again, but it might be the only way to get answers. Answers that he did not bother to find when your parents died.

The truth is, years ago, your parents had their inopportune death. But the authorities has not yet to find the murderer. How could they? When there was no DNA in the crime scene but your parents’. How could they? If the murderer was not even a person to begin with.

Deep in your heart, you know. You know the world is enfolded with mysteries that a human mind would not be able to perceive. Cloak-and-dagger as it is, you understood that reality the moment you saw the two dots that were obviously from a penetration of fangs embedded in your parents’ necks.

‘Vampire! Vampire!’ was your unending scream at the morgue. Since you were only a little girl back then, no one paid attention to you. Not the policemen, not even your brother.

It did not surprise you when everyone called it a hopeless case. In their eyes, it was. But in yours, it’s not. Ever since your parents were murdered, you have been drinking the myths and lore of vampires. Day and night you devoured books, watched vampire sightings, studied their strengths as well as their weaknesses. It simply was a thirst you could not quench.

It was like that until you started college. You could not simply search for a free time to indulge yourself about those undead, blood-sucking creatures any longer. But every articles, every information, were still plastered to a blackboard inside your bedroom. A reminder of what you have been sleuthing for all your life.

Yellow lights illuminated the pool of waters on the asphalt road. You tiptoed as to prevent your shoes from getting soaked. Plastics, styrofoams, as well as vegetables skins from the uncollected drenched trash bins littered all over the street.

At long last, the shadow of your apartment appeared. Darkness invaded the vicinity, a quiet reminder that there isn’t any person present inside. You pulled out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, ten missed calls from Johnny were displayed in the notifications. Frustrated from what happened inside the bus, you continued to ignore his calls earlier, despite your phone vibrating continuously.

Your phone’s flashlight casted a white light upon the dimness. Keys in your left hand, and your phone in your right, you struggled to jam the keys into the hole. When the gates finally opened, you sent Johnny a text that says you’re already home.

“At long fucking last.”

Your phone went flying to the grass yet again as you saw a figure looming in the shadows. A silent curse slid past your lips as you hurriedly picked it up, dead and wet grass sticking onto the screen. Once again, you pressed the flashlight button to see through the darkness.

And there, in the corner near the door, a man with a bloodied face stares at you with a cigar in between his lips. Spontaneously, your heart thudded frantically in your chest. You wanted to shout, but the scream bubbled out in your mouth and then nothing came out.

“Who are you?” You managed to ask.

The man didn’t answer. He pulled something out of his pockets. You took a step back. Only when he struggled to light his cigarette you realized it was only a lighter. His hands continued to shake, and you have no idea why haven’t you screamed for help yet. They say curiosity killed the cat. Right now, you do not doubt the saying as your curiosity ascended your fear.

“Care to light this for me, kitten?” He stretched out his hand to offer you the lighter. His endearment catching you like a deer in the headlights.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? All bloodied?”

The man sighed and started to light his cigar again. “The name’s Jaehyun. I’m friends with your brother, Johnny.” He offered you the lighter once more, “Now, will you light this up for me? As you can see, I’m shaking and bleeding.”

After his last word, you glanced up and down his body, the light of your phone following your action. And then you saw as blood poured out from a wound on his side. You hadn’t noticed it earlier because of his black shirt.

“What— I don’t— are you alright?” What stupid, stupid question. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. Is this why your brother were so eager to call you? Because apparently, his friend stands bloodied in front of your doorstep.

“I feel like shit but I’m alright.” Smoke puffed out of his lips as he succeeded in lighting his cigarette after numerous attempts. “Won’t you open the door?” He nudged his head to the direction of the door. You blinked and felt the keys in your palms again.

“Tell me what’s happening first.”

It’s cruel, but if he manages to stay alive while blood gushes out of his stomach, you believed he could concisely explain to you what’s going on.

“Women are so fucking difficult,” he mumbled. “I will tell you everything once we’re inside and you’re stitching up my goddamned wound.”

“What?!” It was a scream more than a word. “Listen, I don’t know how to stitch up—”

He cut you off, “Well that’s a pity.” Then he threw away the bud of the cigarette to the ground. “Listen, I’m going to pass out anytime soon,” then he licked his lips, “Better open this door so we could get to business.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything to me.” It’s childish and you feel pathetic, but you said it anyways. Perhaps this man in front of you has a bottle of conscience in his system despite his unkempt look.

Jaehyun only looked at you, face impassive. “You’re not my type.”

You choked on your own saliva. “You’re unbelievable.” You ignored his smirk as you sauntered up to the door. Both of you were enveloped in a silence, the only noise coming from the keys jamming into the keyhole.

Another darkness greeted you as you opened the door, you searched for the switch with your sweaty hand. The metal tang the keys left on your palm wafted your nose, making you feel gross and dirty.

You wrenched the keys out of the hole as the light finally infiltrated the living room. Your brow shot up when Jaehyun made no move to enter the house.

“Invite me first,” he stated.

If you could raise your brow higher, you would. His question was unexpected for someone itching to enter your house mere minutes earlier.

“Come… in?” You reluctantly offered.

There was mischief and bad news in his eyes as he stepped inside the house. “So the authorities would say that you invited me willingly.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” You demanded, gripping the doorknob tightly.

He only winked at you. But you are not having any of it. It was a bad idea inviting this stranger inside.

“Get out.” You ordered. Jaehyun attempted to say something but you repeated the words with enough ferocity. “Get out!”

He held up his hand, his right pulling out something from his pockets again. A paper.

“Here.”

You stared at the paper for a good two minutes before you snatched it away from his hand.

This is to certify that the apartment owned by Johnny and Y/N Y/L/N has been sold and therefore owned by Mr. Jung Jaehyun.

No. No, no, no. The paper must be a trick. It’s probably a forged paper made by this man in front of you to take his advantage and trick you.

“This is forged.” You balled the paper and threw it his way. Jaehyun picked it up with bloodied fingers. His shirt was now saturated with his blood. But you could not bring yourself to care now that he poses a threat to your safety.

“Forged? Do you not recognize the lawyer who signed this paper?” He started to flatten out the paper again. “The best in town. You could go to his office right now to inquire about this. But I won’t waste money if I were you.”

For the second time that night, you snatched away the paper from him. It was completely crumpled, but the texts printed out were still glaring at you. You skimmed the printed letters with your head spinning, eyes only stopping when you see three signatures below. One for your brother, one for Jaehyun, one for the attorney. It was signed by a pen, that much you’re sure of. Being an architecture student familiarized you to different type of pens. You’re certain they had used a ballpoint pen to sign the contract.

Still, you went dumbfounded as you let the realization hit you. Your brother, Johnny, just sold your apartment for this blood soaked guy in front of you.

“Since when?” You asked through gritted teeth, not looking up from the papers.

Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh, his hand clamping his wound. “Since last week.”

“Will you…” You sighed, it was so difficult to get the words come out, “… will you let me stay the night? I promise I’ll go first thing in the morning.” Your hand which is holding the paper shook. Mixed feelings of anger, shame, and confusion swirled in your head.

Jaehyun waved his hand before sitting on the sofa, his bloodied hands imprinting the arms of it red. You bit back the anger as you realized that you have no rights to be angry.

“You could stay the night, of course.” He reclined his head, “But stitch me up first before you go packing.”

How had he managed to stay alive with the loss of too much blood, you have no idea. But you shook your head and declined him again, “I don’t know how. You might get an infection.”

“Needle… I need a needle,” He breathed and shut his eyes, you panicked as you thought he passed out already. But then he opened his one eye and fixed it to you, “I’ll do it myself.”

“Why don’t we just go to the hospital?”

It was embarrassing that you only thought of the idea now. But Jaehyun only snorted, “Trust me, that’s the last resort you’d think of if you truly knew me.”

There is no point talking to him. His mouth pours metaphors you could not be bothered to comprehend. So you trudged the distance to the small drawer laying just below the television and grabbed the sewing kit inside.

You laid it on the table. Jaehyun groaned before grabbing the needle and the thread. He does not look pained. He looks more tired. And only when you were sitting beside him you noticed how pale he appeared to be. His lips looked wan, his face pallid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hos—”

“No,” was his monosyllabic reply. You didn’t press any further.

Jaehyun started to insert the thread through the needle, but like his dreaded attempts to lit his cigarette earlier, his aim to get the thread through the little hole went in complete vain. “Fuck,” he muttered as the pin dropped on the floors.

“Let me.” You finally offered before picking up the needle and seizing the thread from his grasp. With your one eye shut close, you dampened the needle with your tongue before thrusting it through the hole. In a blink, you succeeded.

“Here—” You were cut off once again when Jaehyun’s body fell back on the sofa. His eyes closed. The nervous and shock kicked in your stomach as you leaned closer to him but felt nothing in his chest. He doesn’t look like he is breathing, too.

“Oh my God, don’t fucking die.” You repeated the words as you grabbed your phone and dialed nine-one-one. Sweats started to form in your forehead, your own heart beating in a panic-stricken rhythm.

The ringing stopped, and the voice of the person from the other side greeted you calmly.

“I— there’s— I—” Your words are incoherent from the panic that is vibrating from your head to your toes. The person tried to calm you down but to no avail. You inhaled and exhaled, mind blank. “I—” Then a hand grabbed your wrist. You jumped in your seat, only to see Jaehyun, wide-eyed looking at you.

“I told you, no doctors.”

“But— how— what?” How is he alive?

“I am fine. Just really need to stitch this up so I could recover easily.” Then his eyes started to lose their life again.

“Don’t! Don’t sleep! Stay awake!” You screamed at him. Jaehyun began to lose consciousness again. The forgotten thread and needle was back on your hands in an instant. Loud sets of profanities reverberated from your mouth as you lifted his shirt. You exhaled as you saw the long laceration starting from beside his navel to his waist.

“I can’t do this alone, I just can’t.” You swallowed, praying that his innards won’t slide out of his stomach. Where did he get this wound?

“You have no other choice, have you?” He whispered, voice straining. “Just close it and stitch it. I won’t scream,” he expressed.

“That’s not my problem! What if.. what if I’ll make it worse?”

“You won’t.” Jaehyun looked at you with hooded eyes.

This is not what you’ve expected to come home to. The schedule was to go home, eat, shower, and start your plates. Stitching up a long god-forsaken wound wasn’t on your to-do list.

You closed your eyes, trying to inhale and exhale. When you felt like your mind was clear of worries, you finally opened your eyes and started to hold Jaehyun’s skin. The tang of blood filled the whole room, your fingers sliding as it touched his bloodied skin. You let out a breath before clamping the open wound with your fingers, your other hand working its way to pierce the needle into his skin.

Goosebumps ran down your spine as you felt the needle pierced his flesh. White thread came out red as you pulled it to fasten his skin back together. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you pushed on with your work. With each pierce and puncture, your tension and the shaking of your hands lessened.

“Are you okay?” You asked Jaehyun when you were finally in the middle of the wound. He did not utter a word ever since you started; not a protest nor a painful scream.

“Yes… it does not hurt.” His voice came out as a whisper that you doubted his answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If I am in your position right now, I would’ve screamed like hell. Imagine, we didn’t use any anesthesia, but you still managed to look comfortable and calm,” you mumbled, trying to keep Jaehyun awake.

“Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?” A small chuckle resonated from your throat then. Jaehyun popped an eye open, and you waited for some dramatic lines like ‘I’m used to the pain’ to escape his lips, but his answer drew you to a sudden halt instead.

“Because I am a vampire.”

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[blagueofchaos]

#I don't think he's very good at love but he must have liked her or why bother right? #the image of him in bed with reading glasses on skimming some document before bed #waiting for Lucy to be done in the bathroom so he can turn the light out #do u think hed wake up in the middle of the night sometimes because she stole all the blankets. do you think sometimes he let her keep them. #what the fuck. (Op's tags)

I’ll never be able to get over the fact the master had, for ~18 months, a presumably normal human marriage. Do you think he got yelled at for leaving the toilet seat up.