#(....but dragons are in danger so i BETTER learn)

[elveny]

Hm. I don't watch CR, so I can't talk about that but I do know Dragon Age, and I think where your argument concerning that falls apart is the fact that the critique is not about a world state ("Thedas would be better if the Veil fell") but about narrative failure ("the narrative/plot didn't deliver what it hinted at over the course of three and a half games").

At least the critics I read and agreed with don't want a "Step 3. Utopia", not at all. The criticism about the Veil not going down is that it feels like a narrative copt-out, it feels like laziness. We have three and a half games where the narrative hints at (and in Veilguard even openly says) that the Veil was a mistake and is already failing. Majorly. Across the planet. In Veilguard, we learn that it was never intended to be this way, the ritual that created it didn't properly work, and that it is bound to the lifeforce of seven people, five of which are already dead.

Throughout the games before, we learned that spirits and demons are not necessarily what we think they are, we learned that the Veil itself hurts them and can contort them into something they're not. We learn that there are HUGE misconceptions about the nature of magic, spirits, history, religion and that better understanding of all of it can massively improve circumstances and understanding between all kinds of people. EVERYTHING hints at the Veil coming down.

Narratively, it would have been imperative to take these themes, work closely with them and bring them to... if not a close, then to the next level.

Instead, Veilguard either completely ignores them or tells you what to think about them straight away, handwaving any questions aside. Including the Veil. There is no discussion about spirits or magic or about what bringing the Veil down would mean. We are told "you don't want that, we need to stop it", but we don't really know how. We are told by Solas, the one who wants to bring the Veil down, that "he would've taken steps to minimize the chaos and the loss of life" yet we can never ask him what that would've entailed and what the actual chaos might be. We get different accounts of what the world might be if the Veil comes down ("it would be horrible" vs "it would be wonderful") but we can never form our own opinion or ask what this horrible vs wonderful would look like.

Instead of using that immensely interesting theme and exploring what might be, we are told what we have to think. Also, we aren't even solving the problem. The Veil was failing when it was bound to seven people and our solution is to bind it to one person - and then letting that person go into immense danger. If that danger kills Solas (and he is very much killable, we saw that ingame), the Veil is coming down, whether we want it or not, uncontrolled and unchecked. That fact is not talked about, not recognized, not acknowledged in any way.

It is very, very clear that the DA team wanted to put a checkmark behind "the Veil problem" by making us keep it and sending the person it's tied to into "the Fade" and will not talk about the problem again. That's why they told us what to think about it and how it's solved, no options. From a narrative POV, that is a very lazy choice - especially for a game series that used to capitalize on personalized game choices and world states. And it's not only about the Veil, even though that is a huge symptom (and the most visible) - it's about everything else too. All the problems and misconceptions, all the injustices in the world state etc., are ignored and kept in the Status Quo.

The Veil not coming down, or at least it coming down even being an OPTION, is a narrative failure. And being angry, disappointed and sad about that narrative failure has nothing to do with wanting a utopia in Thedas or having a power fantasy. In fact, even if we look at it from the POV of your post - the Veil not coming down is symptomatic of not working towards change.

Injustice and oppression were major themes in all DA games (expect Veilguard. Even DAI had these themes, though already diminished to DAO and DA2), but Veilguard made sure to not touch upon them, even retconned them into never having happened, and make sure to tell us that "no, no, we don't want to work on change, everything is exactly as it should be, don't question anything." Which is exactly what a lot of the DA players that have issues with Veilguard (and indicative with the Veil not coming down) don't want.

Thoughts on how the Dragon Age and Critical Role Fandoms both have members using "destroying the status quo" as a main argument that characters should initiate a cataclysm (i.e. releasing Predathos/bringing down the Veil)?

It's the power fantasy of believing that you, often a lone individual, can fix things with one dramatic action without having to engage in the difficult and unglamorous toil of continuous and sustained work improving conditions at a daily and material level.

It's the power fantasy of thinking that you can fix (repair) something without having to acknowledge that things are never fixed (stable) because it is dodging that a single dramatic action cannot on its own accomplish anything without a relationship to the conditions as they are in a real sense, an understanding of what creates and upholds those conditions, and continuous and often boring or unpleasant or smaller work to sustain movement toward improvement.

It's a memetic flattening to simplify engaging in the concepts of hegemony and systemic oppression. Oppression existing and being upheld by our prevailing cultural attitudes and systems of governance is indeed our status quo in, since this is where I live, the United States. The concept of "status quo" in itself, however, is simply a term for what the current state of affairs is, so I find the idea of destroying status quo as an always inherently progressive act without reference to what that status quo IS or to what we are changing suspect at best. I know what these fans MEAN to point to, yes, so I'm being a little deliberately obtuse in that prior sentence; however, I find that many of these fans do not themselves know what they are referring to when they invoke the status quo, hence why am I being so. Many of them do believe that the destruction of the status quo — regardless of what that status quo is — is indeed itself a noble endeavor. This line of thinking is pursuit of an ideal isolated from any meaningful connection to conditions of the narrative world or its relationship to how it affects those conditions and is simply pursuing itself for itself.

Often, I also find that even those who can correctly point to what the state of affairs is, they often struggle to meaningfully or coherently lay out what this cataclysm's relationship to that state of affairs is (often the case with Dragon Age) or how this cataclysm will resolve or change that state of affairs for the better (often the case with CritRole). Generally, there's a sense that this cataclysm will free everyone to pursue improved conditions, but — even if this cataclysm action would remove a barrier, and that's often a dubious if at best — there no sense of what the next step is or how this will be accomplished meaningfully and materially. It's always very "Step 1. Cataclysm / Step 2. ???? / Step 3. Utopia" without any sense of how to build or maintain that improvement, at which point we're back at my prior points about power fantasy.

My thoughts essentially boil down to power fantasy and pursuit of a memetic ideal for the sake of itself.

[saberlibrary]

weeping dragon

pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader

summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.

content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending

wc: 800

a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol

Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.

He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?

You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.

A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.

“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”

You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.

“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.

The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”

It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?

Something you wanted to hold?

“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”

Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.

Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”

And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.

“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.

“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”

Worried.

She is worried.

The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.

“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.

I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.

Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.

“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”

Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.

“Neuv—”

“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.

The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.

“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”

And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.

[futurepastme]

Unmatched

[Soulmate Au]

Act.I: Merlin

Fate had a weird sense of humor, Merlin thought as he traced the name scrawled across his left rib.

When he was a boy, Merlin couldn't wait to meet his soulmate. He would trace the words of his soulmark with care, imagining what his soulmate would look like, what their favorite game would be and if they would like Merlin.

Then he learned how to read, and the figure he'd imagined before got more detailed. He would picture a boy like him, that would climb trees and play in the forest. They would get in trouble together and be the closest friends ever, even closer than him and Will were.

And then Merlin got to an age where he could understand the importance of his soulmate's name. What it really meant to have that name on his skin, how dangerous it was. Merlin finally understood why his mother looked sad when he spoke of his soulmate, and why he wasn't allowed to tell anyone what name was engraved on his skin.

Now, Merlin sat at his new cot inside Gaius' chambers. Tracing the name that once upon a time was the source of joy and curiosity, and that now brought him confusion, sadness and disappointment.

Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot, was nothing like what Merlin had imagined, and everything he feared he would be.

How could the Fates have matched him with someone so arrogant, so selfish. Someone that would pray on the weak the way the Prince was doing with his servant earlier.

That night Merlin mourned what he would never have; someone that would accept him as he was, someone that he could be himself with, no secrets and no lies. He mourned the love he would never have, all those dreams he’d had as a child, and the promised future that would never be his.

He tried to focus, instead, on the one good thing about his first day at Camelot.

Even though Arthur was Merlin's soulmate, Merlin clearly wasn't his. The lack of recognition of Merlin's name in the prince’s eyes was enough to know.

That was one less thing to deal with, and he tried to find comfort in the idea that he could dislike the prince at a distance and not be forced to be with someone like him.

Then the dragon happened, and the witch.

And Merlin saved Arthur's life. Again, and again, and again. And Arthur saved his.

He learned that Arthur was so much more than the idiot he was on Merlin's first day.

Eventually, Merlin started to mourn the fact they weren't a match.

Soon enough, Merlin realized how much he loved his prince and he tried to find comfort on the idea of being his friend. If that's all he could be, then he would take it.

Yet, deep down, his heart longed for what would never be.

Despite being his servant for a while, Merlin never learned the name of Arthur's soulmate.

Arthur insisted on bathing by himself and when Merlin got back, he had his trousers on.

One day, against his better judgment, Merlin found himself asking about it.

“Don't worry, it's not your name.”

Merlin winced. “I didn't think it was.” Of course he didn't, he knew it wasn't him. But to have the actual confirmation hurt him in a way he wasn't expecting.

Arthur continued, not noticing Merlin's reaction. “Besides, I'm sure your match will be more than happy to show you their mark once you find them.”

This time, Arthur was looking at him, and noticed how Merlin's posture grew tense.

Merlin tried to focus on the polishing he was doing, planning on dropping the subject. But he could feel the hint of tears threatening to flood his eyes, that longing he always shoved down trying to resurface.

“Merlin?” Arthur said softly, noticing Merlin's mood. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” He muttered, pushing away the sadness that had overcome him.

“You know we're friends, right? I mean, I know I don't acknowledge it often, but surely…”

Merlin risked a glance, and the concern he saw in Arthur's eyes warmed his heart. He couldn't help being honest for once. “I'm not a match with my soulmate.” He said quickly before turning his attention back to his task.

What the hell was he doing, telling Arthur this?

Arthur felt the shock of Merlin’s words hit him, and he froze in place. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

Non-matched soulmates were rare, usually one could rest assured that no matter what name they had on their skin, their owner would have your name on theirs. But there were those rare, unfortunate ones who would have the name of someone with a different match.

The idea that Merlin of all people would have a non-matched soulmark was unthinkable. The Fates couldn't be so cruel to make the sweetest, kindest, bravest, most loyal person Arthur has ever known, a non-matched. Unthinkable.

And yet, Arthur kept his gaze sharp on Merlin's body language as the boy fought back his sadness. Very cruel, indeed.

“For what it's worth, Merlin, I think anyone would be very lucky to have you as a partner.

Soulmate or not.”

Arthur saw an hesitant smile hinting to show on Merlin's lips before the boy glanced at him again, “Thanks, Arthur, it means a lot.”

Merlin thought this would be the end of it, that Arthur would let the subject go and they wouldn't talk about it again.

It took a while, but the subject did resurface.

One night, after Uther tried to marry Arthur off to some princess that wasn't his soulmate, Prince Arthur brought the subject up again. Softly, as he was tucked away in bed, with his back turned away from Merlin.

“What's your soulmate like?” The question was so quiet that Merlin almost didn't hear it.

He thought for a while if he should answer it – how much he could answer – but the way Arthur asked the question, like a curious child that was afraid of saying something wrong, made Merlin open up once again.

“Brave,” he started, and as Merlin stared from Arthur's back, back into the fire, the words started to spill out as easily as breathing. “Kind, strong, annoying,” he laughed, “smart, and very, very beautiful.”

He waited a second before continuing:

“I didn't like them at the beginning, you know?” Merlin smiled fondly at the fire as he recalled those first days in Camelot. “I thought the Fates had made a mistake by making them my soulmate.”

His smile faded slowly, until it turned into a frown. “I was actually glad that we weren't a match.”

Merlin turned his gaze back to Arthur and found the prince glancing back at him from over his shoulder. Merlin smiled as he continued, “that didn't last very long, by the end of the week I changed my opinion about them, and within the month there was nothing I wouldn't have done for them.”

“You're friends, then?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah. We're good friends, I think.” Merlin looked back to the fire and tried to keep his gaze there.

He heard the shoveling of the sheets as Arthur turned around. “What did they say when you told them?”

“Told them what?”

“That they were your soulmate.”

Merlin looked back to the prince with a frown of confusion. “I didn't tell them anything.”

This time Arthur was the confused one, “why not?”

Merlin stared at Arthur's eyes intensely, he took in Arthur's position – tucked in under the sheets, with only his head poking out – and his displeased stare. He looked cute, like an angry child upset with a grown up that denied him candy for dinner.

He felt his heart drown in that familiar longing that by now was almost an old friend.

“I can't do that to them, Arthur. I can't put them in that position.”

Arthur raised himself into one arm, “but, Merlin, they might choose to be with you regardless of what's on their skin.”

“No.”

“Yes, Merlin. I already told you once, anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“You don't get it.” Merlin stood up from his place in front of the fireplace, and made his way to kneel on the floor beside Arthur.

Their heads were close enough to see every emotion displayed. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should go that far, if it was worth the risk. But Arthur was always worth the risk, and he made a point to keep his eyes locked on his as he said: “I love my soulmate Arthur.”

Those words seemed to open tightly closed gates and Merlin was suddenly overwhelmed by his feelings. He felt the tears fill his eyes and a sad smile form on his lips. He never said it out loud before. The fact that Arthur was the first one to hear it, was just right.

Arthur saw the wave of emotions shown on Merlin's face, and waited in silence until he had a chance to recover.

Merlin was grateful for the prince's patience, and once he had his bearings again, he looked straight into Arthur's eyes as he continued;

“I could never make them choose.” Merlin felt his breath caught in his lungs as the tears threatened to show up again. “They have their own soulmate, they have the chance to find their match. I can't be the reason why they don't.”

Arthur opened his mouth to say something but Merlin didn't let him. Instead, he said in a soft voice still looking at Arthur's eyes: “I just want them to be happy, Arthur.”

Merlin paused. Arthur gave him a surprised look that made him look like a sad puppy.

“If I have to watch ‘em be happy from a distance then that's what I'm going to do, all it matters to me is that they are happy.”

“They should still have the option, Merlin.” Arthur said softly.

“There is no option, Arthur. You have no idea” he smiled sadly at his phrasing, “how important this whole soulmate thing is for them.”

“You know how it is,” he continued, “we spend our whole lives tracing the name on our skin, imagining the face that will go with it, what it will be like when we meet them.”

Arthur nodded and Merlin couldn't face him anymore. “I can't have them feeling like I felt, and I can't have them feeling like they have some type of obligation towards me, because they don't.”

He looked back at Arthur with a firm gaze. “My soulmate has no obligations towards me just because I have their name. I know them. They have a good heart, a noble one. They would do what they thought was right regardless of their own feelings, and I don't want them to do that. Not about this.”

He softened his gaze and managed to put up a sad smile. “I love them, they are my soulmate and they are my friend, and that's enough.”

“It doesn't look like it’s enough, Merlin.” Arthur whispered softly. He hadn't turned his gaze away from Merlin the whole time he had been talking and he’d watched the emotions dance around Merlin's face every time he dared to look up.

His heart ached for his friend’s fate and he had the sudden urge to either hug the sadness out of him, or raid the whole of Camelot after Merlin's soulmate and order them to give him a chance.

He did neither.

“I won't lie and say that that's the dream,” Merlin said with a heavy sigh. “You know what the soulmate dream is.”

Merlin threw all caution to the wind – if there was any left at this point – and raised a hand to Arthur's shoulder, landing it softly against the prince's nightshirt. He once again brought his eyes to meet the Prince's, and held it there, letting his barriers down and allowing his eyes to clearly show his feelings.

“It's not in my fate to live the soulmate dream, Arthur. I'm not gonna say it's fair, that I wouldn't wish it to be different,” he paused as he felt the tears coming back and his heart getting tight. “And I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt, because it does. It does and it did, and in a way it always will hurt.”

He felt thick tears running down his cheek, but somehow he kept his eyes soft and managed a kind smile that showed a little bit of his teeth. “My fate is not with them, but I'm glad I can still be in their life as a friend. And even if it hurts, I'll be happy when they find their match.”

The fire cracked loudly through the silence that had settled between them. Merlin took the chance to run his sleeve across his eyes, and settled down back into the ground, pulling his face and body away from Arthur. The longer the silence stretched, the faster Merlin's heart would beat, second-guessing his decision of opening up to his Prince.

Arthur took his time, his sharp gaze never left Merlin, but studied his every movement while repeating the whole conversation in his head.

After what it felt like an eternity to Merlin, Arthur finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh. “As your friend,” he said, eyes still firm on Merlin's. “I have to say you're an idiot for not giving yourself a chance with them. You should tell them, and give you both a chance to at least try this possibility.”

Merlin hunched down, he felt his breathing stutter when he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly shut. He felt cold and breathless, and every heartbeat deafened him like they were warning bells resonating through his entire body.

“However,” Arthur continued, his hand itching to reach Merlin's chin and bring the boy’s blue eyes back to meet his own. “I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing.”

Merlin raised his gaze but let his head down, looking at Arthur through teared eyelashes.

“It's an impossible situation you find yourself in, Merlin. And while I don't believe you found the best outcome, I can see the nobility in it, and I can relate to it as well.”

Arthur gave a breathy hum, before continuing

“You know, I never really thought about you as the self-sacrificing idiot, but considering the amount of times you've made a stupid decision to try and save my life, I should've seen this coming.” He gave a side smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Merlin huffed a laugh, it was half-hearted, but genuine enough, and Arthur felt satisfied when Merlin replied:

“I might be an idiot, but you'll always be a prat.”

“As long as that never changes.” He smiled, Merlin smiled back, and the thick atmosphere that had taken over Arthur's chambers dissipated just like that.

Merlin's eyes were still teared up, though they now shone with a small light that had dimmed down during their conversation before. This time, Arthur was the one to raise a hand to Merlin's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze that he hoped would comfort him somehow.

“Thank you, Merlin, for sharing so much with me. You didn't have to, and I appreciate your trust. Know that it has not been misplaced.”

“Prat.” Merlin's smile was genuine this time, and his eyes were soft again, though the usual light was still duller than normal, they shone brighter by the second.

Arthur nodded to himself and gave Merlin a last squeeze and a little shake, before pulling his hand away and dismissing him. “Go get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.”

Merlin nodded and collected himself, getting up off the floor and running his sleeve through his face one last time. He watched as Arthur lay back down on his pillow and couldn't resist the urge to tuck him in, fixing his covers where they had slipped down to his waist.

Arthur had the lost puppy eyes again, watching Merlin as he tucked him in. His body gave small goosebumps where Merlin's hand pressed when fixing the bedspread around him.

With a last pat on the cover, Merlin turned around and headed to the door.

“Good night, Arthur,” he muttered before closing the door.

“Good night, Merlin,” Arthur whispered softly to the empty room.

That night, Merlin slept like a log. The emotional exhaustion he felt in the past hours knocked him dead the moment his body hit his bed. He would have to process his feelings properly at some point but not today, today he slept and let the night wash his worries away.

That night, Arthur couldn't sleep. He kept replaying this night's discoveries in his head. Tossing and turning around in bed, he couldn't seem to relax. His hand would reach down to his inner thigh and trace the name he knew was there, like it had millions of times before, but this time the feeling that came with it wasn't reassuring nor hopeful. Not when his mind was filled with Merlin's sad eyes and teary face.

And as the phantom touch of Merlin's hands still warmed him, for the first time, Arthur prayed. To the new gods and the old ones, to the universe itself and to the Fates that decided men's destinies. He prayed for his friend's happiness and future. And most of all, he prayed and wished with all his heart that he could somehow find a way to help Merlin's heartache.

He hoped that the morning would bless him with the answer.

End of Act.I [Act.II]

Gods, I miss writing. My new job is sucking out my soul and I barely have time for existing anymore, but I did have this lost in my drafts and since I miss posting I decided to muster up the strength to finish this one up. I did copy and paste without editing, though, so I'm sorry for any mistakes and weird formatting.

Sorry it ends up like that, teehee, but had I posted the draft you would be hanging mid-dialog so I consider this a win, for me, that is.

Thank you for lending me your time, I hope you enjoyed it 💜

The good news is I do know where I'm going with this and I'll try to write more this next week. The bad news is I have no idea when I'll finish it or if I'll be able to write at all next week, but we'll see.

Happy ending is a promise, but we'll have more angst first. And hurt Merlin.

Keep warm, drink water and remember to take your medicine if you have one.

Ps: (and this is me being hopeful) I really don't know if or when I'm posting more so if anybody wants to be tagged when I do, please lmk

[xiaowhore]

hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

[loveydoveypiperwright]

Brb changing my mental perception of canon

never forget what they took from you ladies

[zkg2318]

Blood on Fire ~ pt. 1 | LHS

A/N: this is part 1 of the BOF series! I have decided to divide this story up by who's sex scene is in it, but in order to fully understand the story, you must start with part 1 and finish (if you want). they are plot driven, and context will not make sense if you start with part 2, etc...

genre/tags ✶ MDNI reverse harem!hyung line x afab!reader, angst, smut, gore and violence, supernatural themes, (sirens, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, phoenixes, frost elves, dragons, witches, and more…), underground betting, alcohol use, blood, verbal and physical violence, murder, manipulation, death (no major characters, lol kinda), government themes (not political), fight club au, ot7

synopsis ✶ In a city where the supernatural are arrested on sight, the only refuge for their pent-up rage is “The Enha Arena”- an exclusive, hidden venue where creatures engage in brutal, blood-soaked battles with one another. Concealed beneath the unassuming exterior of “Dusk and Dawn,” a gym that serves as the front of a totally legal business, this underground fight club acts as the epicenter for this violent world where supernatural beings not only fight for dominance and pride but for the sheer thrill of it all. In dire need of some money, you find yourself drawn into the fight club when you come across a black market job posting- an offer for a new trainer at the gym. Desperate for new ways to keep your own abilities under wraps and even learn about other supernatural beings, you accept the position, completely unaware of the dangers and complicated relationships that await you

WC ✶ 16.9k

Part 2

smut warnings under the cut

smut warnings ✶ monster erotica (obviously), blood play/kink, love bites, spanking, dubcon, bondage, unprotected sex, aphrodisiac usage (kinda), degradation, pet names, oral fem!receiving, vaginal fingering

Luxta was different from other cities; it was neither big nor small- large enough that not everyone knew each other by name, but small enough that you didn’t need to make it a day trip to get to the grocery store. What set apart Luxta from other cities was the thriving population of supernatural beings living in the shadows, though their existence was only known by the government and select humans. The rest of the world, including the unsuspecting citizens of Luxta, had no idea that they walked on the same streets as did you so-called ‘monsters’, the ones that should have only ever existed in stories.

Being supernatural was illegal in Luxta and if you were to be caught by those hand-held scanners the government officials in the enforcement division wore around their belt, you’d be arrested on site. They weren’t as far-reaching or accurate as the large, reinforced scanners that were mounted in the back of their trucks or brought to building inspections, but they were enough to ruin your life. So, like everyone else who had the misfortune of being ‘different’, you stayed hidden.

There was one solution to these scanners: suppressants. A sort of perfume that you could use to spray on yourself that would make you undetectable to their scanners. But they were difficult to come by, the production being regulated by one man and their distribution being restricted to underground networks that sold them at sky-high prices. And they were experimental at best, coming with an abundance of long-lasting side effects and malfunctions that didn’t guarantee 100% effectiveness. For the few people that could afford one, they were used as an emergency fall-back.

And for the majority few that didn’t have that luxury, they stayed in The Veil, the black market’s so-called ‘base’ for the supernatural. For you personally, you lived there until you turned three, when a blue-collar couple took you in a few days after your birthday. “Adopted” wouldn’t be the right word- “purchased” would fit the situation better. Given only a handful of humans knew about the supernatural, these types of ‘transactions’ came with a strict clause that if broken, were punishable by death. Even so, 90% of supernatural children grew up as orphans, relying on The Veil for support.

Being adopted in the supernatural community was supposed to be some sort of grand escape from poverty, and in a way, it was. But since meeting your parents, you never stepped foot outside of your home. From the moment you met your parents, you never left your parents’ 800 square foot apartment and its measly excuse for a patio that overlooked the area where people took out their trash.

You existed only to service your human parents- like some sort of bloody commodity. At first, you didn’t know any better. A few healing touches here, a bit of supernatural magic there- it was harmless. But as you grew older, smarter, it didn’t take a genius to know why you were really there. You were just a piece of capital to them, a tool to be used.

As a phoenix, you were an expensively rare commodity. Your regenerative and healing abilities made you invaluable, and many people sought after those traits- but few possessed those characteristics. Your parents, both construction workers, were no stranger to danger in the field. Injuries were a part of their daily lives, and having you around to heal their wounds was an advantage they never hesitated to use.

It was routine- your mother’s strained back from lifting heavy materials and your father’s broken bones from working with heavy machinery. It was the perfect system, your healing touches allowing them to return to their jobs faster than most could manage, like a money making pig. But their injuries were extensive, more than just a mere cut or bruise. Every wound you healed required a certain amount of energy, the more severe wounds drained you of energy for days. As time went on, you felt your body getting weaker and weaker until eventually, you just couldn’t do it anymore.

Whether it was because your body was drained of its own powers or you just couldn’t find it in you to help them anymore, you stopped healing them. So at 14 years old, they kicked you out of their home when they realized they couldn’t extort you of your powers anymore. The realization that you parents had only used you for your abilities hits you hard now, but at the time, it was like a huge burden had been lifted off of your shoulders. And now, for the last six years you’ve been living alone in a poorly lit apartment that’s been funded by The Veil; two years out of highschool and working part time jobs at home all while remaining disconnected from the world outside. Since being kicked out, you hadn’t physically interacted with anyone aside from the person that delivers your groceries to your door. At this point, you’re starting to think you have a deeper connection with your delivery driver than anyone else in your life.

But now, even that little security was slipping away from you. The Veil was making room for the next generation of supernatural kids, which meant only one thing- you were getting kicked out. You still had a few more months to get your shit together, find a new place and make sure you had a stable enough job to maintain yourself in this economy. Your side hustles weren’t going to be enough to cover a first and last month's rent deposit anywhere. So that’s how you ended up here, pulling on some workout gear for some gym training job you found on the dark web for a place called “Dusk and Dawn,” a supernaturally owned gym that operated within the shadows of the black market. The wage was kind, almost too kind and it had you second-guessing the legitimacy of the job- but you were in no position to play it safe right now.

There wasn’t much of an interview process, just some email telling you that your first day would involve being shadowed by a staff member to see how well you interact with their clients. It sounded doable, despite your half empty resume and lack of any formal qualifications. But surely, your years of self-defense training during your free time through a computer screen counted for something, right?

When night finally settles over the city, you leave your cramped studio apartment, watching garbage sweep across the broken cracks in the sidewalk as you hastily make your way down the alleyways. It always took a bit longer to get to where you wanted when you took the back alleys over the main roads, but it was a safety net you had no choice but to rely on whenever you went out. The shadows of the alleys felt safer anyways, more familiar to you than the brightly lit streets that crawled with government officials late at night.

Luxta was always scarce at night, save for the few men in blue that scoured the streets looking for the supernatural under the guise that they were just keeping watch over the neighborhood. When the supernatural had first invaded the city, it was more of a slow encroachment than a sudden flood. It started with a few whispers at first, shadows passing by in the night. Then rumors began to stretch across the city as sightings of these fleeting figures moving faster than the human eye could imagine became more and more frequent. It was never officially confirmed what they were, but the government responded swiftly and labelled the mysterious occurrences as nothing more than a mere increase in criminal activity.

The men in blue- members of the government’s enforcement division- were sent out in droves after that, scouring the streets while armed with silver scanners clipped to their belts. Their devices would emit a piercing alarm at around 90 decibels whenever it detected a supernatural presence, irritatingly announcing their capture to anyone nearby. It’s game over once you hear that alarm, immediate handcuffs specifically designed to detain the supernatural. What happened after was anyone’s guess.

There’s speculation in the supernatural community about what they do with you after you’re arrested: years of brutal testing, harsh interrogations, maybe even torture only to conclude it with a senseless execution. But no one outside of that division knew what happened beyond the arrests made in public. And no one knew why they were even populating Luxta in the first place. The only thing you did know was that your only ally was The Veil.

Arriving in front of a dimly lit building that is squished between a post office and a laundromat, you’re pulled from your thoughts when you see a flickering “Dusk and Dawn” sign hanging above the entrance. You look at the windows, but you can’t see past the dirt and scratches that decorate the glass, obscuring any view of inside. With a nervous breath, you push open the door to the entrance, its rusty bell ringing above you as you enter.

Your eyes fall on the counter before you, its fading white paint peeling at the sides from years of wear and tear. Behind the counter sits a woman with sleek black hair and rectangular framed glasses that accentuate her sharp jawline, “Hello?” you call, glancing around the small waiting room.

The woman glances up, her brown eyes zeroing in on you as you step closer, “And you are?” she asks with disinterest in her tone.

“I’m Y/n, I’m here for orientation as the new gym trainer?” you respond. Up close, you can see that she’s around your age, maybe a few years older with smooth skin and dark eyes that shine at you despite the deadbeat tone she uses to address you with.

She gives you a curt nod, her expression slightly brightening, “My name is Yuqi, I’m the manager here,” she slides off of her stool, the old wood creaking beneath her. “Were you able to see well in the dark, I know the hours of your orientation seem a bit odd, but we’re a 24/7 gym.”

Your mind hesitates as you recall the unspoken question to recognizing a fellow supernatural: asking about the darkness of the sky, “It was glimmering enough for me to see clearly, thanks.”

Yuqi narrows her eyes before offering you a smile, flicking her tongue at you. You watch as her eyes transition from a dark brown to a piercing yellow, her pupils narrowing into a slit. A subtle hiss comes from her as the forked tip darts out at you in a dangerous frenzy. You freeze, mesmerized by the way her thin tongue moves in an unsettling precision, like she’s trying to reel you in, “I’m a serpent, but if you really wanted to get technical, I’m a basilisk,” she explains, observing your wide eyes, “You don’t seem to know many supernatural, do you?”

You blink at her, shoulders slumping as you shake your head.

“Well, if orientation goes ok, you’ll be meeting a lot more supernatural people here. Things can get… intense,” she says, her eyes glinting with pride. “Come,” she gestures for you to follow her, guiding you through a large room filled with old gym equipment that look like they’re about ready to break. You don’t stop there though as she continues to lead you into a dim hallway where a heavy iron door clad with locks and chains at the end of the hall is. You hear a thrum of things clanging on the ground and low murmurs behind the door, and an uneasy tension begins to coil in your chest.

“So, how much do you know about our gym?”

“The ad only told me I’d be helping people work out, nothing more.”

Yuqi raises her eyebrow as she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a silver key. When she begins to unlock the chains, she turns to you, “Don’t be alarmed, things are just different here,” she says calmly, undoing the last lock.

With a rough push of her shoulder, the door opens with a heavy click, unveiling a space that feels worlds apart from the one you just saw minutes ago. The polished bamboo floors shine under the cool lighting of the gym, the industrial light fixtures hanging 6 feet in the air. Each area of the gym is meticulously organized, groups of machines clustered by function on top of black rubber gym tiles. There’s even motivational black and white posters hanging on the walls, accompanied by black plates that adorn the walls near the benches and squat racks. It all feels so overwhelming, the sheer volume of equipment just waiting to be used.

But the most striking feature of the auditorium had to be the imposing boxing ring that sat to the left of everything, its rubber barriers worn and fraying in a way that commanded authority. Encircling three out of four sides of the ring was a bunch of bleachers that looked as though they had been spray-painted black to match the aesthetic of the black and white theme the rest of the gym was following, giving it a high-end yet gritty finish.

“Welcome to the Dusk Gym,” Yuqi says with pride laced in her voice, her gaze sweeping over the space in front of you, “What you saw outside was our Dawn Gym. I know the ad said you’d be helping people work out,” she continues by gesturing at a few of the members working out on some of the equipment, “but that’s only a fraction of what you’ll be doing.”

You turn to her, confusion evident in the way you tilt your head and furrow your brows, “What do you mean?” your voice carries a mixture of wariness and intrigue as Yuqi’s thin lips curve upwards into a smirk.

“Nestled within Dusk Gym is the Enha Arena,” she reveals, her voice dropping a few decibels as she points to the boxing ring, “This is where supernatural beings come to fight one another, to test their limits and use their powers without worrying about the legal repercussions,” She matches your gaze with her own and presses her lips together, “We are technically an underground fight club, Dawn Gym is just a front. There’s an official match with spectators once a month. And yes, this is extremely illegal.”

Listening to her words, you swallow a string of saliva building up in your throat. As she continues, an uneasy wave washes over you and a coil begins to tighten in your stomach.

“Your job isn’t just to guide them through their workouts, but to prepare them to fight one another, to teach them how to harness their abilities and control them. One mistake in public, and they jeopardize not only themselves, but the entire underground community.”

Her words hang in the air like an impending storm, the heavy weight of them waiting to strike. A nauseating tension settles in your stomach as you begin to question your capabilities for the job, your confidence waning by the minute. Uncertainty swirls through your mind, your lacking qualifications pressing against your forehead like a swollen thought. “You’ll be given a journal that was started by our old trainer- it’s got notes on every member in the gym, so don’t feel like you’re going into this blindly.”

You press your lips together, “Ok, anything else?”

“You’ll also need to make sure they’re pushing themselves to be their best without losing control. It’s on you to make sure they’re ready to fight, mentally and physically. At the end of the day, we’re a fight club and that’s how we make most of our money.”

You hold her gaze, finally feeling her words settle like lead. “Ok, but why a fight club? Why all the violence?” You feel your words catch in your throat as you ask, feeling as though this may be too much to take on. But you couldn’t turn it down, the pay was good and there weren’t many other supernatural jobs that were hiring.

Yuqi looks around the gym, nodding towards a few of the patrons that were already working up a sweat before answering your question, “I’m sure you’re well aware of this already, but the majority of us have spent our lives isolated from the real world. A lot of us don’t know how to regulate ourselves. Not being brought up properly didn’t give us the chance to learn how to cope with big emotions. The Veil helped create this place for us, a space for the supernatural to confront their inner demons and let their anger out in a safe environment” her voice softens for a moment, the slit of her pupils expanding briefly, “In a place like this, they don’t have to hide.”

Her words hit harder than you expect, cutting through a part of your heart that still aches for your past. Despite leaving the community, you had still hidden yourself. Even after being taken in and offered what you were forced to call a home, it felt more like a prison than living without a roof over your head. Forced to hide away what was an extension of yourself and acknowledged only when it benefited the two people who were supposed to love and cherish you, you never thought you’d see the day where you could embrace your entire being. Yet here you are, standing in a place where you weren’t a secret anymore but rather a strength. It’s foreign, and if it weren’t for Yuqi’s words holding up a mirror to your own past, you never would’ve questioned what life was like where you weren’t discriminated against for being different. You would be an idiot to not take this job up now.

“Now, be a good girl and introduce yourself to one of our patrons. I’ll be right behind you.” She shoves you along a bit, following after you with a soft laugh. “You’ll be working with Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon. They’re four of our seven regulars here.”

You bite your lip out of nervousness and find the nearest patron, only getting a view of his back as you watch him push through a set of squats. You can see his muscles strain beneath the weight, each striae bulging beneath the tight compression of his black long-sleeve. His focus is nearly palpable as he executes each movement with a haunting precision and you almost hesitate to introduce yourself, but Yuqi pushes you forward again and into his peripheral vision. When you stumble in front of him, you see that his skin is a striking porcelain white and you feel a sub zero chill run through your spine as you step into his presence. Noticing your feet awkwardly shuffling from one weight to the other, he pulls his earbuds out and gives you a strikingly cold stare.

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” your voice trembles a bit, your confidence wavering as an icy chill travels through your veins. Your next words catch in your throat as you begin to find it harder to focus, the temperature of your body becoming colder by the second. “I’m a new trainer here… at Dusk and Dawn. I’m just getting to know everyone.” You kick yourself internally for fucking up your intro, but your mind falters when your muscles begin to stiffen, the coldness gripping you like an iron vice.

Frozen in place, you opt to stare into Sunghoon’s eyes, a storm of frost and grief storming behind them. There’s a mysterious depth to them that draws you in despite the arctic freeze that’s creeping through your body, an irrational pull to figure him out.

When Yuqi notices your frozen state, she moves to deliver a sharp smack to the back of Sunghoon’s head, “Knock it off, Sunghoon,” She scolds, throwing him a venomous glare. “You’re not a walking AC unit,”

The boy has an air of arrogance to him that floats around him like a cloud, thundering when she gets too close. Rolling his eyes, his lips curve into a mocking smirk before he slides his earbuds back in as if dismissing you. You’re about to scoff when Yuqi slips her arm through yours, pulling you away before he can catch a glance at your flushed out cheeks. “Please excuse him. He’s a frost elf, so don’t expect much empathy from him.”

“Is that why I nearly died of hypothermia all of a sudden?” you ask, rubbing your arms despite your core temperature returning back to normal almost immediately.

She sighs, shaking her head as she drags you over to the next patron. “Probably, it’s a defense mechanism of his. When he feels negative emotions like annoyance or just wants to push someone away, his body temperature significantly drops, as well as whoever else he wants to affect.”

“So he did it on purpose?”

“I’m not sure,” she answers, tapping her foot on the floor, “It’s integrated into his sympathetic nervous system, so it normally activates when his fight or flight gets triggered. But if he really wanted to, he could control it. But I’ve noticed he just lets it happen whenever, like it’s his way of telling people you’re pissing him off.”

You give her a simple nod, filing the information away in the back of your brain to jot down for later. When you gather yourself, your gaze falls onto the next patron- a tall, lean guy who was too busy re-racking his weights on the bench press to notice your presence. His taut muscles flex under his white compression shirt as he handles the bar, each side stacked with more weight than you could imagine. “Fresh blood?” he asks without even sparing you a glance.

Before you can respond, Yuqi leans over, “He’s a vampire. He can smell your blood from miles away. Just don’t stare into Heeseung’s eyes for too long.”

You give the woman a nod of confirmation, playing it off as if meeting a vampire was just a regular occurrence. Turning to the vampire, you offer him a short but polite greeting, looking anywhere except his crimson gaze. Just like with Sunghoon, you find an invisible tug pulling you towards him that has you craving more, an unknown urge in your belly asking you to uncover whatever it was this person was hiding from you.

He shoots you a knowing smile, his pearly white fangs peeking out while he narrows his red eyes on you, as if testing your resolve. His stare pierces through you, slickening your core with a striking heat that has you instinctively pressing your thighs against each other. You feel a warmth begin to pool in your stomach as your composure starts to crumble, his gaze melting you like frost in the morning sun, “Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Yuqi says, pulling you away from his heat induced fixation.

Her grip on you is uncomfortably tight as she pulls you over to a corner where another person is working hard at a punching bag, each one of his strikes sending a powerful ripple through the tough canvas. The rhythm is hypnotic as he paces around the bag, his muscles surging with every hit. You stay back and watch for a moment, flinching as he assaults the bag with an unspoken aggression, years of pent up anger charged with each punch. Without even turning to address you, he snarls in an aggravated tone with his lips curled up, “Don’t bother, I already heard all the introductions.”

You raise an eyebrow and turn to Yuqi, finding yourself increasingly annoyed at the little respect you’ve been offered from the boys. “That’s Jake, another one of your trainees. Don’t mind him either… he’s a werewolf, so his hearing is enhanced, as well as all his other senses.” Yuqi looks around momentarily before connecting her hands together, turning to give you a small smile.

“Alright, I think you can find the last member assigned to you by yourself, but there is one more thing I’d like to show you,” she places a hand on your shoulder and guides you back over to the entrance. Gesturing upwards with her hand, she points to a glass booth that was suspended above the gym floor, facing the Enha Arena on the other side of the gym. “That’s our staff room. We have access to it 24/7, letting us control who enters and exits the Dusk Gym. Patrons will use the same entrance we came through with a staff to unlock the chains and everything, and we all leave through this one-way exit,” she points to a smaller door a few feet away from the entrance.

Looking over to where she points, you feel a sense of finality wash over you. The gym was starting to feel more and more like a fortress by the second, all the security features overwhelming your mind. “This isn’t just a gym, Y/n,” she says as if reading your mind, “It’s a sanctuary, and we take security here very seriously. Come find me in a few hours once you’re done, ok? I’ll be in the booth.”

With a final wave, Yuqi disappears up a staircase, leaving you by yourself with the few patrons that were still training. There were only four men in the gym, which meant the last one had to be Jay. Looking around, you spot him at the pull up bars, a grunt escaping him with each rep.

Sweat slickens your hands, and before moving, you hastily rub your hands up and down your leggings. “Hey,” you say, waving your hand. The boy hops off the pull up bar and looks at you expectantly with an eyebrow raised exceptionally high, “My name’s Y/n, I’m just introduced myself as the new gym trainer here.”

“The name is Jay, though I don’t think I’ll need much help…” he looks you up and down, his gaze terribly imposing as he takes you in, “... from you.”

You scoff at that, swallow the urge to get to know him better like a bitter pill. Like a switch, you narrow your golden eyes at the boy, refusing to let him brush you off like that, “If you want to fix that poor pull up form, you’ll want it,” your voice is rich with annoyance as you feel a deep sense of aggravation draw from within you.

He lets out an airy laugh, a breath of fire escaping his mouth as he does, “I don’t take advice from people who think ‘chin ups’ count as a real up.”

“Keep saying that when your protein shakes start tasting like the salt from your tears,” you shoot back, forcibly shoving him to the side, “And I don’t do chin ups,” Jay stumbles into the bar as his eyes begin to glow with an orange hue, an amused annoyance radiating off his warm body while a smirk creeps onto his face.

You jump onto the bar with ease, gripping the iron structure firmly before pulling yourself up in one fluid motion. With an almost annoying ease, you begin to pump out as many reps as possible, each one silently taunting him. Eventually, you drop back down to the floor once you find yourself losing count, letting your chest rise and fall with a feigned exertion.

“That’s cute, but half reps don’t count,” he declares, straightening his posture as the smirk on his face dies out like an old flame, “Now move, I’ll give you something to fucking count.”

You roll your eyes as you step back, letting him line up below the bar, “Did you need a spot, or can you get up there by yourself?” you tease, but he shuts you up with an angry grunt.

As he powers through each movement, every motion as fluid as your own, you catch a glimpse of red as his tank top moves with the speed of his reps. Red scales decorate a part of his lats and shoulders, shimmering like molten embers embedded in his skin, catching underneath the glint of the harsh lights hanging from the gym ceiling.

“Good job, Jay. Maybe you’ll graduate to a real pull up,” you say, a smirk playing its way onto your lips as you turn around. Without waiting for his response, you make your way towards the sound of metal banging on metal.

In another area of the gym is Heeseung, sitting at one of the high-end rowing machines, working up a sweat as his muscles flex under the synthetic material of his shirt. When you fall into his line of vision, he drops the grip to the row, “Can I help you?” he asks, his voice dripping with an allure as he eyes you up and down.

“I noticed your right shoulder was sagging, did you recently strain your rotator cuff?” you say, pointing at his shoulder.

He rubs the shoulder in question, feeling for the pain and nods his head, “Some bitch twisted me into the ring ropes of the arena, fucked up my shoulder and everything,” he grunts, moving it around as if to show he was still in pain, “I was just going to let it heal itself.” He moves to pick the grip back up, wincing as he pulls backwards on the heavy weight attached to it.

Without thinking, you reach out to him and place your hand over his, pulling back when he flinches away from your touch. “Sorry, but you’re just going to make it worse if you keep going,” you tell him, “Can I touch your shoulder?”

He drops the grip again, letting it hit the metal bar in the middle of the machine with a loud clang before looking at you with a coy smile, “Be my guest.”

You ignore the obvious tease in his voice and step closer to him, reaching your palm out to cover the curve of his shoulder. A quiet hush falls between the two of you as warmth diffuses from your hand while a soft orange glow emanates from your palm. The warmth intensifies as it spreads over his shoulders like liquid fire, seeping into his muscle until you feel the tautness melt away.

Heeseung’s red eyes widen slightly as he pulls away from your touch, rolling his shoulders back, “What the hell was that?”

“I’m a phoenix,” you say simply, amusement flickering across your face as you watch astonishment cross his features, his stoic mask dropping for a brief moment.

“Shit, didn’t think I’d ever meet one,” he mutters under his breath, quickly resuming his workout to test out his newfound repairment.

A twinge of sadness tugs on your heart as his words settle over you like a heavy weight pressing you to acknowledge the sad truth of the fact. You force a smile, despite his focus being elsewhere, “Yeah, we’re quite rare now,” you say more to yourself than him, an affirmation of the loneliness written into the stars. Your thoughts are burdened by the inescapable truth: you’ll never encounter another phoenix as there can only ever be one solitary ember burning in this world, destined to rise and fall until their purpose is fulfilled. At least that’s what Google says.

Heeseung finishes his set as you stand back awkwardly, unsure of what to do, “You should spend some time with Niki, he tends to hurt himself a lot during training. Usually Minnie helps, but she can only do so much with a sports medicine degree.”

“Who is Minnie?”

Heeseung stands up from the machine, seemingly done with rowing, “She’s just another trainer here. She works with Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki.” He explains, using a towel to clean the seat on the row machine, “There are some other trainers, like Yuqi, who work with the casuals, but the seven of us are Dusk and Dawn regulars. We kind of hold the fort down here.”

“Good to know, thanks,” you say with a quick nod. When he starts to move to another machine, you don’t follow him and instead offer him a quick wave goodbye, “I’ll see you around, Heeseung.” When he nods you off, you leave the gym, ascending the same staircase Yuqi had used earlier to head up to the office. Reaching the top, you’re met with a short hallway. At the end, a single door on the left catches your eye- the staff room. With a quick knock, you enter the room to find Yuqi sitting at a large desk with several monitors in front of her, security camera footage running across each screen.

Hearing you enter, she swivels her chair around, a large smile on her face as her snake eyes long and you, “Just the person I wanted to see!” she exclaims, waving her hand for you to come over, “Looks like you’re getting along quite well with the boys, so I’ll go ahead and email you the schedule for their training sessions and the journal I was telling you about earlier. Their next match is in two weeks, so you’ll be preparing for that.” She turns to grab something from her desk, reading for a worn out leather journal, “You did more than enough today, so study this journal and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, placing the item in your arms with a satisfied nod. You take the tattered journal from her, the weight of its content acting as a tangible reminder of the crazy few hours you just had.

When you exit the building, the early morning air hits you like a slap, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. The streets were devoid of any governmental presence now, too much of a commitment for them to maintain any vigilance past 3 a.m. You knew they’d be back on the streets around 12 p.m., and that the neighborhood would soon be populated with moms and their strollers and people walking to work by 7 a.m. the earliest. So this four hour period in which the streets were abandoned was something the supernatural community knew well, a time slot in which the supernatural could leave their homes and stretch their legs without having to worry so much about being caught.

As you walk home, you see figures blur by you at an unnatural speed while others propel themselves dozens of feet into the air, skipping across roofs. It was a testament to what the human eye could only deem as a fantasy, but to you, it was an unspoken reality that only thrived in the quietness of the early morning. Even during this time, though, there were still limits. Elemental abilities were still kept at bay- no one dared to bend water or fire in public so openly, no matter the hour of the day. Those who did wield such powers stuck to minute things like changing the temperature of their body or whispering the flicker of heat into an angry flame.

And you knew there was still a whole other realm of abilities you weren’t aware of, tucked away beyond layers of secrecy the supernatural world was too scared to show. There was only so much research you could scour online before it became repetitive and almost theorized by rumors. The shame of living in a universe where it was illegal to exist gnawed at you everyday, and you were becoming desperate for life beyond scratching the surface of freedom. Each moment spent outside of your home left you with an aching curiosity, questions unanswered indefinitely.

But with the journal Yuqi gave you, clutched tightly in your grasp, you had a sliver of hope. Maybe it wouldn't grant you the freedom you’ve wanted for the supernatural all these years, but you hoped it could answer some of the questions that have been burning at the back of your head since your parents kicked you out.

When you arrive at the steps of your rundown apartment complex, you slowly make your way up the creaky stairs until you slip inside the dimly lit studio. Flicking the light switch on, you watch as a single bulb pathetically sputters to life, casting a faint glow across the room. There’s a lack of light in the hours where the sun doesn’t shine through your one window that acts as a source of constant frustration for you, making it nearly impossible for you to see without the flashlight from your phone or the fire from your fingers. But with your new job and new paychecks, you’re starting to hope you’ll be able to find a place that has bulbs stronger than a meager 40 watts.

With an exasperated sigh, you throw your belongings onto your patchwork couch and change into an old shirt and panties. As much as you wanted to dive into the journal that Yuqi had so generously given you, the dim lighting of your apartment made it almost impossible to read. You could’ve used the flashlight on your phone, but the lack of a working outlet left you unable to charge it if it died. And as much as you would’ve liked to cast a pretty flame from your fingertips, they were far too much of a fire hazard inside the old wooden walls of your studio apartment. Instead, you decide it’d be best to just wait until the early afternoon when the sunlight enters your window naturally.

When the sun rays do filter through your window, you spring upwards in bed, your body restless despite the pitiful amount of hours you managed to snag. For the first time in years, your night wasn’t consumed with a monotonous amount of homework or the glow of online workout videos in a lonely room. Instead- no matter how chaotic- you had a new purpose. You were exhilarated to keep going, fuelled by only a few hours of sleep yet ready to take on the next few days coursing with energy- a trait Phoenixes prided themselves upon: resilience.

With a precise stretch, you reach over to your desk and grab the journal you set aside from earlier. Nestling back into bed, you open the first page to reveal a comprehensive list of all the supernatural beings that had ever attended Dusk and Dawn over the years. Your eyes scan through the list of names, a mess of words that bleed onto the next page. Some are expected, familiar even- werewolves, vampires, dragons, griffins- but there are some that catch you off guard: valkyries, kitsunes, fairies, centaurs, and many more. Yet, you notice that not a single phoenix appears on the list, and it leaves an invisible weight sitting on your shoulders.

Moving through the next few pages, the entries become more and more detailed as they start to divulge into each patron, starting with Heeseung. His name is scrawled out on the top of the page in fancy letters, and underneath it readers ‘Vampire.’ A barely legible sketch of his face is drawn next to his name and you let out a soft laugh as you trace your finger over the old led before drawing your eyes down to Heeseung’s written description.

Heeseung came to Dusk and Dawn seven years ago, seeking for a way to cope with the anger of his parents abandoning him at the age of 16. He has been a general joy to have, often participating diligently in activities and putting his best foot forward in matches. Throughout his years at Dusk and Dawn, staff has observed that when pushed too far, Heeseung enters a state known as vampiric rage. Symptoms include: severe blood lust, glowing red eyes, feeding compulsion, disturbed/over enhanced senses, uncontrollable aggression, and predatory behavior. It is recommended he be taken into isolation when this occurs until he calms down

Power descriptions: hypnotic gaze, enhanced senses (strength, smell, sight, hearing), night vision, super speed. Please revise if necessary

You swallow the lump in your throat when you finish reading his entry, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach as you turn to the next page. Jongseong is the next name you see, and in parentheses the name Jay is written next to it with a large ‘Dragon’ scrawled underneath it. There’s another half-hearted sketch drawn next to it, and you notice the birth mark added to his neck, a darker patch on the left side of his neck.

Jay first came to Dusk and Dawn a few months after Heeseung, bringing a similar energy as the latter. Shaped by the self-resilient upbringing he developed under The Veil’s guidance, he has showcased a few profound characteristics that stand out during training. His past cultivates a very competitive spirit that is landmarked by a web of complex trust issues, resulting in a volatile temperature which resembles that of a pressure cooker.

Power descriptions: scale armor, pyrokinesis, enhanced strength. Please revise if necessary

On the next two pages are profiles for Jake and Sunghoon, the last two members Yuqi said you would be training. Beneath Sunghoon’s name are the words ‘Frost Elf’, and ‘Werewolf’ beneath Jakes.

Jake joined Dusk and Dawn shortly after Jay and Heeseung with a unique backstory, coming from a lineage of other werewolves, he sought out this place after losing his family during an attack. His personality fluctuates heavily between being quite friendly and open to acting quite aggressive and aloof. During full moons and times of overstimulation, he struggles with the primal side of his werewolf blood coming into full effect: excessive aggression, overprotection of his packmates, animalistic instincts, and loss of rationality. Jake should be carefully monitored for any signs of depression d/t history of family loss

Power descriptions: enhanced senses (smell, hearing, speed, strength), healing saliva (minor wounds), scent tracker, lethal bites and scratches. Please revise if necessary

Below Jake’s profile is Sunghoon’s.

Sunghoon joined a day after Jake with the primary goal of fighting people. Like Jay, he has navigated the challenges of all life stages by himself and upon joining Dusk and Dawn, he openly admitted to struggling with recognizing emotional cues and controlling his powers. It has become evident over the years that Sunghoon has made significant progress in developing his abilities, yet he often chooses to not exercise control unless absolutely necessary. Rather, he tends to resort to violence when provoked, that he just “doesn’t care” as stated by Sunghoon himself.

Power descriptions: cryokinesis, frost armor, temperature manipulation/aura. Please revise if necessary

Upon finishing Sunghoon’s entry, an overwhelming sense of responsibility descends over your shoulders, prompting you to close the book and reflect. The solemn history of these four members has you reconsidering your qualifications, debating whether you’re just in over your head and blinded by the hourly wage of your new job. Did you have the societal experience to connect with them and guide them in the way that Yuqi was expecting you to? Really, they too grew up alone or abandoned at some point in their life, isolated from the real world- but they had more time to learn about the real world through Dusk and Dawn than you did. What right did you have to go ordering them around and telling them what to do?

Heeseung had previously mentioned that there were three other regulars that attended the gym, but because they weren’t training with you, you decided it’d be best to wait until you met them before reading their entries. Right now, your immediate focus was on sharpening your own skills.

So with your renewed determination, you divulge into a whirlwind of rigorous training. The next few hours leading up to your second training shift is filled with a relentless cycle of speed drills and high-intensity circuits designed to test your endurance. Your goal wasn’t to just be stronger- you already had that. Instead, you aimed to outlast the boys. Stamina would be your greatest asset working at Dusk and Dawn.

After who knows how many hours, your phone alarm goes off indicating you had one hour left before your next shift started. You take that time to shower and clean up, taking an especially hot shower. Clad in a new pair of leggings and tank top, you walk back to the gym, retracing the same alleyways and backroads as you did the night before.

“Hi, Yuqi.” you say, greeting the serpent hybrid supernatural sitting behind the front desk. She's got her head tilted down with some magazine in her hands, her black framed glasses perched low on her nose as she reads.

She acknowledges you with a low hiss, her forked tongue flicking up and down in the air. “Here are some keys,” she says, tossing a set of keys at you to which you catch mid-air. “Take the boys into the elemental training room when they get here, you’ll learn about their abilities there. It’s just Niki in there right now”

With the keys in one hand and your backpack strap tucked in the other, you make your way down the familiarly dim hallway where that same iron door stands at the end, wrapped in a chain of metal. Laying against the rusting door were at least three padlocks, and after a minute of figuring out which key goes where, you push open the door to reveal the glory of the Dusk gym once again.

The familiar clang of weights hitting against one another fills the air, echoing through the large auditorium as you walk in. Setting your bag down against a long black bench beside one of the cement pillars, your eyes draw in on a tall, unfamiliar boy whom you presume to be Niki, working out in front of the numerous mirrors lining the gym. As you approach him, you can’t help but let your focus fall on the way the vein in his bicep bulges with every rep, straining when the dumbbells press against his chest. You lean against a machine nearby, momentarily forgetting your intent to introduce yourself to him. “Looking for something?” he says, glancing at you through the mirror. Your attention snaps back up to respond, but he’s not there.

“I’m right here, sweetie.” the voice continues to tease, this time coming from behind. You spin around, your gaze travelling the area as you look for the source but to no avail.

A dark laugh that seems to only fill your thoughts starts overwhelming you, the absurdness of the voices in your head making you spin. Shutting your eyes, you will the laughter to go away. Suddenly, a tap on your shoulder jolts you out of your thoughts and the laughter comes to a stop. Opening your eyes, your gaze finally lands on the boy you saw in the mirror, his sharp eyes glaring down on you with a mischievous glint, “So you’re the infamous trainer I’ve heard so much about.” He says, leaning down to match your height.

You clear your throat, “That’s correct. And I’m assuming you’re Niki?” Stepping back, you attempt to create some distance from the relatively tall boy standing before you.

He nods his head, letting the fringe of his black hair fall into his eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, stepping into your space despite your previous attempt to distance yourself. He bites his lip as his mouth curves into a devious smile, eyes darkening. Reaching for your hand, he interlocks his fingers in yours, “So you’re a phoenix…”

He brings your hands up to your vision so that the both of you can see, his large hand almost devouring yours completely, “I can play with fire too.” He says, squeezing your hand harshly. Suddenly, a glow of embers envelopes your hands completely, a scalding heat spreading between you both as his powers force yours out as well.

But as quickly as the fire emits, it extinguishes, a flash of blue striking the flame and leaving only a cloud of smoke in its wake. “Cut it out, Niki,” a voice calls from a distance. Turning to the sound, you see a boy with ashy brown hair approaching you with graceful strides, “We’re not supposed to use our elements in the gym, there’s a specific place for that.”

“Alright, Katara.”

“It’s Sunoo, not Katara.” The boy corrects, bowing to you.

“Could’ve fooled me with that water bending of yours,” Niki pesters, squeezing Sunoo’s ears after letting go of your hand.

Sunoo gives Niki a face as he swats the taller boy’s hand away from him, shooting him a darkened glare that leaves Niki in a slight daze. “Are you guys ever gonna act like your age, or are we stuck with the mental capacity of a 10 year old?” a voice calls from behind. Sunghoon’s chilling voice pierces through the air as he comes into view, casually dressed in a pair of gray sweats and white tank, a disturbing contrast to his arrogance. He shoves his hands into his pockets before adding, “You guys are fucking children.”

An arctic freeze radiates off of his otherwise relaxed body and Niki begins to tremble, angrily flicking his arm to emit a glow of fire that crawls up his arm and down his torso. “Stop using your temperature manipulation on us, Yuqi said you’re supposed to control that shit,” Sunoo scolds, moving closer to Niki to feel his fire.

You roll your eyes, feeling bored of their tense exchange. “Enough, just get into the training room before you rip each other’s heads off.” you demand, your voice laced with annoyance. The boys grumble in response, muttering things that you don’t bother to decipher as they walk into a dark room tucked away in the back of the auditorium. When you enter, you flick the light on to reveal a large gray room, both its floor and walls adorned with the same glossy stone material- though they’re marked up by what you assume is years of burn marks and blunt force. The room is a quarter the size of the gym, holding an abundance of training dummies and bullseyes; amongst other things.

“Line up here,” you say, pointing to the back of the room. They kick their shoes off before stepping onto the black gym mats, moving in silence. “I’ll have you guys each target train on a dummy so I can get a gauge of your guys’ skills. If you don’t have an ability that requires target training, just don’t line up.” You say as you kick your own shoes off.

Before you can continue, an out of breath voice interrupts you, “Am I late?”

You turn around to see the silhouette of a boy who seems to have run all the way here. Rather than answering, you nod your head to the mat in annoyance, “Who are you?”

“Jungwon,” he offers, presenting you with a smile to which the pits of his dimples show. For a second, your shield of authority falters for a brief second when your eyes pass over his grin, but you’re quick to pick it back up as you address Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon, can you tell me what each of these boys are?” He opens his mouth to complain, but you catch on to the change in his demeanor rather quickly, “Without complaining.”

He bites his lip, grumbling something under his breath before proceeding. “Niki is a kitsune- a childish one at that. Sunoo is a siren, and Jungwon is a shapeshifter. And I’m a frost elf, but I’m hoping you already knew that.”

Looking down at your watch, you frown when you realize that more than half of your own group is missing and you were supposed to start ten minutes ago. “Ok, let’s start,” you annoy, stepping off to the side.

“Shouldn’t we spar? We already know how to target train,” Sunghoon tests, cinching his eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Did I ask?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him. “Sunoo, go first.”

Sunoo grins, dramatically flicking away a strand of hair from his face before stepping forward. He steadies himself, planting his feet firmly on the floor before narrowing his fox-like eyes at the dummy across the room. In one graceful motion, a stream of water burst from his hands, gradually growing in volume before he thrusts his hands forward, sending a jet of water towards the target. The liquid splits down the middle as it moves through the air, weaving around itself before slamming into the target.

When it hits, Sunoo begins to sing- his voice a piercing yet soothing high that seems to resonate with the movement of the water. The liquid responds, wrapping around the target like a mermaid’s tail, constricting the target more and more with every second. When Sunoo’s voice fades, the water falls, limp of any life it once had.

“Well done,” you say, giving him a nod of acknowledgement, “But I’m worried about your singing. You become quite vulnerable when you sing, though your water becomes very powerful when you do, so come up with a way to make yourself safe before performing something like that.”

Sunoo smiles at you as he accepts your critiques, stepping aside. He brushes past Sunghoon with a smirk you don’t quite catch and the responding boy pushes him into the wall. You nod to Sunghoon next, who steps forward to take his spot, his confidence radiating in a piercing chill around him. He doesn’t wait for further instruction before he’s raising his hand to eye level, creating a razor-sharp shard of ice that cuts through the air and tears straight into the dummy’s chest with cunning precision. Upon impact, the ice splinters, shattering the dummy beyond repair.

Before you can offer your commentary, Sunghoon’s launching himself into a side-flip, a long blade of ice forming in his hands mid-air. When he lands, the floor beneath him transforms into a sheet of ice. With amazing ease, he glides towards the other dummies and wields the blade of ice into each target with a lethalness that has you flinching.

His chest heaves up and down as the ice underneath him dissipates, returning the floor back to its original material. He carries himself with a cold arrogance, his head thrown back as he walks back to the line. “What the hell…” you whisper, not catching the way your eyes ravage his body, his veins bulging out of his arms. Sweat glistens down his porcelain skin and you subconsciously rub your thighs together to quell the unnatural feeling in your core.

“He’s hot, right?” a voice from behind you whispers, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn around only to see Jake standing beside you, just inches away from.

“When the hell did you get here?”

“When Sunoo finished, but you were too busy ogling at Sunghoon to notice.”

“I was not ogling, I was evaluating,” you correct, taking a step away. Jake is quick to compensate for the pathetic distance you try to put between you and him, bringing his body even closer than it was before until you can feel the heat of his body radiate off onto yours. He’s taller than you, not as much as the others, but enough to make you want to crawl inside of yourself and disappear as he breathes in your exhales.

“I may just be a werewolf, a mutt as some of the boys like to call me, but I’m just as strong as Sunghoon,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Maybe even stronger.”

His voice sends a rush of heat down to your core, only adding on to the slick that’s coated the seat of your panties. Fueled by a mix of arousal and anger, you force yourself to choose the latter to control your next decisions. Stomping on his foot, hard, you give Jake a throaty snarl, “Get in the damn line.”

Jake smirks, ignoring the pain that shoots up his foot, “I just know you’re gonna be begging for me soon,” he whispers once more before sauntering off to stand next to Jungwon.

“Well?” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you out of your own mental storm and you look up at him, “Any comments, Ms. Y/n?”

“Dial it back a bit,” is all you say, nodding at Niki next. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, biting back a smirk as he plays oblivious to the fact that he didn’t just catch the way you watched his every move as he walked back into the line, staring at him like a bitch in heat. Just like all the others, he thinks to himself as he watches Niki step up to the spot he was in originally.

Niki is your focus of attention now, steadying himself into a ready position before allowing his body to engulf in a rage of flames. He strides towards the group of targets, flaming embers dripping off of him like a molten sweat as he approaches. As he moves closer, a swirl of fire surrounds the targets and fills the air with an eerie, high-pitched laughter that echoes off the walls. The swarm of fire morphs into a crowd of sinister faces that leer at the targets, hauntingly paralyzing if you were to look them in the eye. It’s disorienting, even to watch as a spectator on the sidelines as the faces transform into flaming spears that shoot into the dummies- a copycat of Sunghoon’s ice shards.

The room immediately fills with smoke as the targets burst into flames, smoke stinging your eyes. Sunoo jumps into action then, dousing the fiery targets with a storm of water, clearing out the smoke. The room is silent except for the soft sizzling of the dummies rematerializing in front of you as brand new, like some sort of magic. “Alright, Jake is useless with elements and Jungwon would rather spar than copy our powers, so can we finally start hitting each other?” Sunghoon asks, breaking the tension in the room.

Jake lets out a growl, slamming his fist into Sunghoon’s unsuspecting body, “Suck my cock.”

In a matter of seconds, Sunghoon’s dark brown eyes transition into a furiously bright blue, his hand materializing a razor-sharp ice blade. He lunges towards Jake, raising his arm up at the boy to attack but you step in immediately, a burst of flames surrounding you as you teleport to Sunghoon’s side. “Enough!” you yell out, Sunghoon’s arm held tightly in your hand. “No more of these stupid fights unless it’s during an official match or sparring. And Sunghoon,” you twist his shoulder until he’s wincing, “I will not have you slicing Jake open with your blades of ice.”

You bring your hand down to grip the girth of his ice-blade before looking at the others, “Go to the damn ring and put your wraps on. Now.”

As the group begins to exit, you catch Sunghoon’s arm with a sharp glare. “Not so fast.,” you mutter. A surge of heat pulses through your palm and immediately melts his blade, the crystalline weapon quickly losing its shape and dripping onto the padded floor. With a final shove, you send him stumbling to the ground.

“What the fuck, Y/n?” He hisses, shooting you a blue-eyed glare.

“Out.” You hiss with finality, watching with your eyes as he stomps out of the room. The door slams behind him, echoing with the anger he harbors towards your actions. You could care less- finally alone for a brief moment. You draw in a deep breath, an attempt at steadying your racing pulse. The air is thick with apprehension and you feel a knot developing in your shoulders, one that likely wouldn’t have developed if it weren’t for the boys’ constant bickering. There’s a frustration that bubbles beneath your authoritative facade, one that’s bordering the lines of blowing up.

You lean against the wall and close your eyes for a brief moment, taking that second to let the darkness consume you. In that moment of peaceful blindness, you seek solace in the unknown- almost yearning for your life in isolation to come back. “It’s nice to see someone keep the boys in line,” the voice has you opening your eyes, focusing in on a girl that steps out from the shadows of the training room. Her pink eyes sparkle with warmth as she approaches you, a broad smile painting her face.

“Are you Minnie?”

“What gave it away?” she giggles, “Sorry, something came up yesterday during your orientation so I couldn’t meet with you, but I’ll be able to spend some time with you today.” She takes a hold of your hand, humming softly as a warm glow radiates between the connections.

Her gesture sends a wave of relaxation through your tense body, easing the knot in your shoulders as the light travels through your veins. “I’m a light fairy,” she explains, “one of my powers is to calm people down through touch.”

You smile into her touch, placing your free hand atop your connected ones, “I may need you around me indefinitely,” you prod at the tense air gently, though deep down you both know it’s not entirely a joke. The weight of everything despite it only being your second day was already feeling like too much. Her warmth was like a much needed respite.

Minnie laughs again, infecting you with a joy you didn’t think was possible. When the light between your hands fades, she pulls you out of the room. “Boys!” she exclaims as she approaches the ring, waving at the group of boys who have started warming up. You notice Jay and Heeseung are already there.

Sunoo and Jungwon are the only ones that bother to look up, waving back excitedly before rushing to the edge of the arena, leaning on the rope rings to peer down at the two of you. “Hi noona!” Jungwon says, reaching his hand out toward Minnie.

Minnie connects her hand with his and closes her eyes, a ball of light transferring between their intertwined fingers, “Are you gonna calm them down?” she whispers, a soft melody that could make you fall asleep. Jungwon nods, letting the light dance along his skin before it dissolves when he disconnects their hands and bounds back to the boys to tussle around with them. With his back turned, Minnie looks at you with a melancholic gaze, one that doesn’t really match her vibrant energy from earlier, “The older boys don’t let me touch them, they’re a bit closed off like that, but I get it,” her voice drops off as her gaze drifts back to the older members, a longing sadness in her eyes. Though it doesn’t last long before she turns back to face you, “When they get riled up, Jungwon copies my powers temporarily and does the same thing I did with you. They seem to trust him the most.”

You turn to watch Jungwon, his hands subtly climbing the backs of the older boys as a soft luminescent glow of light identical to Minnie’s pulses from his fingertips and transcends through their bodies. He continues to mess around with them, shadow boxing with the elders as each one of them slowly let their defenses fall.

“My boys don’t get as angry as yours,” Minnie continues, running a hand through her blonde hair. “I think that’s why Yuqi paired me with them. She knows I can only handle so much negativity as a fairy.” She pauses to glance over at the boys once more, smiling when she sees Jungwon’s head stuck in between Sunghoon’s arms- a sisterly affection radiating off of her body. “I think their outbursts are what made the old gym trainer quit. If I’m being honest, they’re quite dangerous when their emotions get the best of them. They’re rough around the edges, but they’re good people on the inside.”

Her words spark a curiosity deep inside of you, and you press on for more info as you continue to watch them from outside of the arena. “Have they known each other for a long time?” You ask, noticing their sibling like energy, despite the tension from earlier.

“I think some of the boys have known each other since they were in the community, and others have just met a year ago when they joined the gym. But they all get along differently, some are really close while others aren’t.” She gives you a grim smile, “I think Sunghoon’s got the most complicated relationships out of all of them. Frost elves aren’t exactly known to be friendly, but he’s different with these boys. I dont think he’d ever really hurt them- at least not seriously. He really cares for them, he just lets his emotions get the best of him.”

Her candid assessment of Sunghoon roots you to the spot, prompting you to process her words right then. You had noticed something too- he was especially closed off when you first met him. There was a storm in his eyes when his gaze landed on yours, one that seemed to cloud his judgement. It was raw and unfiltered, hiding what you felt was a war of control in the back of his mind behind a fog of indifference.

Shaking your head, you give Minnie a grateful nod and gesture to the ring, “Should we get started?” Her face lights up and she slips into the arena, lifting the ropes up for you as you follow after her. You bounce against the padded cushion of the ring, adjusting to the flooring before addressing the group of boys before you. “Let’s start off with Jake and Jay, no powers. Just pure strength and skill.”

Jake and Jay separate from their impromptu shadow boxing match, leaving the other boys to move off to the side, leaning against the ropes like its routine; varying levels of interest on their faces. Sunghoon’s got his arms crossed with a bored expression across his face, like he could be doing anything else than watch other people fight. Next to him, Niki looks intrigued, his head slightly tilted like a little puppy as he awaits the match. The rest of the boys seem indifferent, neither bored nor interested as if they’ve seen this a million times.

In the center of the ring now is Jay and Jake, facing each other as they steady themselves in their own personal ready positions. Jake has his right foot forward, his hands up to his face in a rather tense position as he narrows his eyes at Jay. The latter is more calm, his posture relaxed while his hands are held loosely at his face. “Go.”

Jake is the first to move, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet as he sizes up Jay, initiating an unspoken agreement to move counter-clockwise in the arena. The two boys circle around one another for a few seconds, each step heavy with tension as their gazes become predatory. Jay throws the first punch, lunging forward with a fast left jab, but Jake anticipates his movement and strides to the side, allowing Jay to graze his ear. Jay overcompensates and passes Jake, barely stumbling forward while Jake’s lip curls into a grin, laughter erupting from his belly.

Rolling his eyes, Jay kicks his foot back, connecting with the back of Jake’s knee. In an instant, Jake is on the ground, dead-legged by his opponent. “Dumbass,” Jay mutters, smirking to himself when he turns around. He steps back, allowing Jake to get back up.

Jake regains his composure quickly, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his neck. Jay moves in one more time- using his right arm this time as he aims for Jake’s jaw, but he ducks out of the way again, throwing a left hook into Jay’s side. The force of his punch has Jay gasping for air, hunching over from the velocity as he staggers back to catch his breath. It doesn’t hurt, but rather knocks the wind out of him. There’s a brief silence as Jay quickly catches his breath, steadying himself as he gives Jake the chance to go on the offense this time.

Sweat is beading on both of their foreheads now as the tension in the air thickens. You watch as Jake begins to circle around Jay again like a predator stalking his prey, locking eyes on him once more. With lightning speed, Jake flies forward to uppercut Jay’s jaw, blood flying in the air as Jay bites down on his tongue- hard. Jay doesn’t falter though, immediately responding with a jab and two crosses to Jake’s face. They stumble away from each other for a brief second before going at it again, throwing a mess of punches and kicks at each other until they can barely hold themselves up.

You get a good look at their faces once they separate- a thick stream of blood spills from Jay’s chin, the familiar taste of metallic filling his mouth. He smiles, teeth bloodied as he’s reminded of the adrenaline from fighting- a chemical surge of power. He brings a wrist to his lip, pulling back to see bright red staining his skin. When he looks at Jake, he observes his best friend in a similar state, a jagged cut across his eyebrow and blood gushing from his left nostril. You don’t even want to imagine the bruises developing beneath their clothes where they clutch at themselves like a kicked puppy.

You step forward, wincing at the blood staining their faces. “Alright, that’s enough,” you say, looking over at their hunched over figures. Jake and Jay, flushed out and breathing heavily begin to unwrap their boxing wraps. Limping to the middle of the ring, they exchange a quick handshake and slap on the back before slipping out of the ring to clean themselves up at the benches. The pungent mixture of sweat and iron has you cringing when it slams into your senses, causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust. “We’ll take a quick break and then I’ll have Sunghoon and Heeseung spar next.”

Before you can turn away, a voice- unfamiliar and brooding- slices through the murmur of conversation amongst the group. “Mind if I hop in?” You whirl around to the source of the voice, your gaze landing on a figure taller than everyone in the room standing just a few feet away from the arena. He’s clad in a black zip up jacket and white sweats that hang loosely around his lean, athletic build, “My name’s K. Just signed up at the front desk.”

You tilt your head to the side as you take in his presence. There’s something unsettling about him. The air around him seems dark, hanging off of his frame like a suicide gone wrong. There’s a ringing in your ears as you debate whether or not to let him spar, and without realizing it, Jake steps in front of you. Glancing over at Heeseung, he nods, a look of challenge lighting up in his eyes. “Alright, you can go up against Heeseung. Just give them a few minutes.”

Ten minutes go by quickly and Heeseung is back in the ring along with the others. He’s quick to get into position, hands raised to the front of his face as he plants his feet firmly into the mat of the ring. K lines himself up across from Heeseung in a similar position, ready to start but you hold your hand out. “K, I want to know who you are before starting.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face as he keeps his eyes locked on Heeseung, “You’ll figure it out soon enough, sweetheart.” He taunts, and before you can press further, he lunges.

Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, sidestepping out of K’s trajectory at an almost inhumane speed. As K’s fist whistles past Heeseung’s face, he counters the attack with a right hook aimed towards K’s gut. It doesn’t work as K snaps his body around to catch Heeseung’s punch with an iron-like grip. Heeseung’s eyes widen momentarily but he recovers quickly as he twists his arm out, driving a knee into the taller boy’s stomach.

Again, K blocks the attack and with a violent twist, throws Heeseung to the edge of the ring that you’re standing at. You along with Jungwon, Niki, and Jake quickly separate to make room for Heeseung’s body before he slams against the rubber ropes, landing on the ground with a loud thud. He’s quick to recover, his vampiric speed allowing him to regain his composure within milliseconds. With a new anger raging through him, Heeseung bares his fangs at K as sweat drips down his temple.

K’s smirk never fades as he runs at Heeseung, his fist flying through the air as he closes in on him, but Heeseung dodges. A mirage of relentless punches and kicks are thrown at Heeseung, but he dodges each one by a hair. Quickly fatigued by the sporadic movement, K’s motions become slower and in a moment of weakness, Heeseung delivers a swift uppercut to K’s jaw followed by a sequence of jabs that are delivered with a savage intensity that only a vampire at full strength could display. The force of his blows sends blood gushing from K’s face, his features splitting open in an unattractive display.

K staggers back, suddenly caught off guard by the sheer force of Heeseung’s assault. In a heartbeat, the air shifts and K’s demeanor changes from that of a playfully oppressive gaze to one of a lethal intent. When Heeseung throws one more punch, K catches his fist in his palm mid-air and uses his momentum to slam him into the ground with a bone-cracking force, the impact knocking all of the wind out of Heeseung.

A guttural sound rips from Heeseung’s mouth when his back hits the pad, the impact leaving him clawing for air as you take a step forward out of instinct. Niki’s hand grips your shoulder and he pulls you back, holding you there firmly as he drops his hand down to your forearm. “You worthless vampire,” K whispers, a black tendril stretching out from K’s hand. When you see the shadows unfurl from K’s palm, your breath catches and you move to intervene right as Heeseung’s own red tendrils flare to life, his red eyes glowing with rage. He kicks under K’s hold, their shadows a mess of anger as they collide against each other.

“Enough!” you shout, cutting through the brutal stalemate they seem to be locked into.

K releases Heeseung from his hold, his sinister shadows immediately flowing back into his slender hands while Heeseung rolls away from under him, his chest heaving up and down. “What the hell was that?” you shout, fury boiling under the surface as you clench your fists.

K leans down to match your height, his gaze locking on yours as his eyes cloud over with a black haze, “I’m a necromancer.” He says, his voice dripping with challenge.

A snarl erupts from your throat, barely restrained by the thread of resolve you hold for yourself as you throw a deadly glare at K, “That doesn’t give you the fucking right to try and kill him during practice!” You accuse, the heaviness in your voice punctuated by the chilling tension in the air. You let out a long, shaky sight and rush over to reach for Heeseung, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” You murmur, trying to gauge his emotions.

He flinches under your touch, roughly pulling away from you before giving you a barely noticeable nod, lips held in a tight line as he refuses to meet your concerned gaze. You tongue your cheek with worry as you watch him slip out of the ring and head into the changing rooms, leaving you standing there in the middle of the ring while the rest of the boys pretend to not have watched the whole exchange. A complicated knot of guilt settles in your stomach as you think about what to do, torn between following after him and just staying put.

You’ve only known the boy for a day- barely enough time for you to feel entitled to his trust or to chase after him. In fact, you’ve only known the gym for a day- but there was something sharp that twisted inside of you after seeing him like that.

With a shaky sigh, you turn around but you’re caught off guard when you see Sunoo’s eyes wash over you, but his eyes are vacant, as if he’s looking right through you. His expression is dulled by a glassy sheen, holding a deeper understanding that you can’t quite grasp and it makes the knife in your stomach twist just that much more.

“I think we’re done for today,” You look back at K before slipping out of the ring, ““K, I don’t want to ever see you pulling that shit again.” The atmosphere is thick with hostility as you start to clean up, thick enough you could choke on it. Throwing a bloodied rag into a nearby laundry bin, you spot Yuqi entering the gym, her snake eyes narrowed on K.

You watch as she zips towards him in quick, determined strides. Within seconds, she’s face to face with K, thrusting her hand at his neck. She grabs onto his long neck with a vice-like grip, strangling him. With her serpent-like strength, she slams him into a nearby pillar, the impact echoing through the gym loud enough to have the boys flicking their heads up. K’s eyes widen in shock as he claws at her arm, his arrogant facade breaking as his back slides against the concrete pillar.

“If you ever hurt one of my patrons like that again, I will have you blacklisted from Dusk and Dawn in an instant,” she hisses, her forked tongue flicking out to spray a mist of black venom on his face. The effect is instant, liquid smoke curling up from his skin as the venom sizzles into his flesh, leaving red blisters on his face. She tightens her fingers around his throat for just a second before letting go, letting her threat hang in the air like old laundry.

When she leaves, your mouth hangs open in shock, “You’re catching flies.” Sunghoon says, nudging your chin closed.

You purse your lips, ignoring him as you clasp your hands in an attempt to regain some composure. “Alright…” you trail off, still reeling from the confrontation between Yuqi and K. “Before you guys leave, I’d like to have a one-on-one conversation with each of you. I’ll be over by the benches when you’re ready.”

Despite being able to feel the pounding of your own heartbeat in your damn throat, you stride over to where the benches are, forcing your steps to remain steady and confident. You refuse to show the boys any hints of fear or inferiority, not like the first day.

As you sit down on the benches, you notice Jake is the first one to approach, his presence commanding as ever when he enters your space. “Jake,” you say, patting the spot beside you.

He doesn’t move, rather adjusts the strap on his gym bag that’s slung over his shoulder as he continues to stand in front of you.

“You really should sit. This isn’t supposed to be a quick chat.” You respond, noticing his restraint. “I’m not asking.”

Sighing, he drops onto the bench, letting his bag fall to the floor with a loud thud. “Alright, what’d you need?”

Cutting straight to the point, you ask your first question, “Are you friends with all the boys?”

Jake lets out a deep laugh, his canines flashing at you when he does. “Really? That’s what you want to know?” You roll your eyes, smacking him. “Ok, well I guess you could say we’re all pretty tight. But Sunghoon, he’s a dick through and through, but I know him well enough. I’ve been at this gym for six years now?”

You’re not surprised to hear about his comments towards Sunghoon, his earlier bickering with him being evidence enough that they often butted heads. But your mind thinks back to the journal entry you read about Jake’s past, about his family being torn apart prior to coming here. You shift in your spot, choosing your words with careful precision. “I came across something while I was reading the old trainer’s journal. It said you had supernatural parents. That’s quite rare in Luxta, most of us are found and taken in by The Veil.”

Your question hangs in the air with unspoken emotion as Jake’s entire body tenses at the mention of his late parents, his laughter dying in his throat as he thinks of a response. “Well yeah, I’m a werewolf. We live in packs, but that’s all gone now.” His jaw clenches as the browns of his eyes darken into something deeper. At his sides, his fists repeatedly clench and unclench, his knuckles blanching with each movement. “It’s none of your damn business anyways. Are we done here?”

His voice drips with anger as he stands up, snatching his gym bag in one quick motion. He doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead curling his lips at you, a silent warning for you to stop talking. “Watch your fucking mouth, Y/n. You don’t know anything.” He says before walking off, shoulders tense and you swear you can almost smell the angry pheromones lingering in his absence.

“Don’t mind him, he tends to have extreme mood swings.” Jay says from behind. You turn around to face him, unintentionally letting him catch a glimpse of your sad eyes, mourning the ghost of his presence. His own gaze softens in response when he sees your reaction, and he finds himself fighting this flicker of empathy clawing its way up his throat. “You said you wanted to talk to us?” He says instead, sitting at a comfortable distance from you.

“Right, I just wanted to see how you guys get along, that sort of thing.” You clarify, pausing in order to let him fill in the gaps.

“Ah, I guess you could say I’m pretty close with everyone. Jungwon and I go way back though, I guess I took him under my wing in the community since neither of us were adopted.” He offers you a half-smile as he speaks, but you notice the way he rushes through the word ‘adopted’, as if it’ll hurt him if he lingers on the word too long.

“What was it like growing up in The Veil?”

“It sucked, but I’m not sure the alternative was any better,” he steals a glance at you to which you look down at the floor in a hurry, guilt eating away at you for being one of the few children that were ‘adopted.’ “We were in and out of shelters until we were 16, then Jungwon and I got housed together and then eventually, we were forced to find our own place once we turned 20.”

“And what about Sunghoon?”

“What about me?” That familiar wave of coldness shocks your nervous system and you freeze, feeling it work its way up your veins. Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the chilling temperature, and you steal a glance at the boy standing behind you, his eyes sending daggers into your back. “If you have something to say, say it to my face.”

Jay only laughs, finding the situation amusing. “I think that’s my cue to leave.” He stands up quickly, throwing Sunghoon a hesitant glance before parting.

You meet Sunghoon’s glare, a touch of guilt coursing through you as your core temperature continues to drop. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” You say, your voice evident with a mix of frustration and defeat. “Please, can you stop trying to give me hypothermia?”

Your pathetic apology seems to strike a chord in Sunghoon, and for a moment, his usually hard expression falls. Though as quickly as it falls, it tenses right back up as your body bounces back to its original temperature. “I didn’t mean to talk about you behind your back, I just want to know how I can support you.”

Sunghoon crosses his arms, offering you an unamused smile. “I don’t know why you’re so desperate to support me. You’re just a gym trainer.”

His words are like a slap to your face, and you flinch, feeling its harsh sting. He’s right- you’re just a trainer, hired to make sure they don’t kill each other and out themselves to the real world. You know you should keep your distance, but you can’t. That pull you felt yesterday when you met them all, it’s only grown stronger. You weren’t going to let Sunghoon’s attitude freeze you out, not if you could help it.

“Well unfortunately, that’s not up to you.” You counter. “So, can you explain to me why you feel the need to use your temperature manipulation so casually? Why do you choose not to control it around your friends?”

Sunghoon remains indifferent to your question, but you think a small part of him reacts to you saying the word ‘friend.’ “Cuts down on the amount of talking I need to do. Gets the message across that they’re pissing me off when I freeze them, and when they back off, I dial it back.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “And they’re not my friends.”

“Ok, except it doesn’t.” You challenge him, “This isn’t just some simple power where you can use negative reinforcement to condition other people’s behaviors. You can’t punish people into compliance, it’s not ethical.” You hang your head, trying to think of a way to speak to him like you aren’t talking down on him. “I would really appreciate it if you’d put in more effort on keeping it in check. I get it- in a world like this, we can’t trust anyone. But these boys care about you, so it’d be nice for you to reciprocate it.”

When you raise your head, you hold his gaze with your own and notice that the storm in his eyes has cleared. It reappears as quickly as it left, but you saw; his vulnerability melting away that frost and it makes you wonder if there were more layers underneath his cold indifference. It’s clear that this is about as much as Sunghoon is going to give you before he starts to snap at you, so you decide to hold back on prodding any further.

“Anyways, can you tell me if Heeseung is still around?”

“Heeseung should be out of the changing rooms by now,” Sunghoon says, standing up.

“Thanks,” you mutter, following his lead. When he disappears from your vision, you make your way over to the changing rooms, a tired drag in your step. “Heeseung?” You say into the tiled hallway, your voice bouncing off the walls- but no response. You wonder if he had already left, but you don’t recall ever seeing him leave, so you decide to wait a little longer, the quietness of the gym almost suffocating as time drags on.

As you lean against the concrete, you watch as the younger boys wave bye to you, smiling joyfully as they head out. The minutes pass by slowly and you’re almost worried that Heeseung slipped out without you noticing, you were really hoping to talk to him before the end of your shift. The weight of your concern had only grown heavier in his absence. When you’re about to push off the wall and leave, Heeseung emerges.

You almost forget the list of things you want to address with Heeseung by the time he comes out, but it slips your mind anyways when you see his eyes glowing an unnatural red. “Heeseung?”

“Move.” He snarls, baring his fangs at you. You notice his skin has turned into a pale white, drained of its energy as he pushes past you with an abrupt shove, practically forcing you into the wall but you catch yourself, grabbing him by the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t talk to me that way.” You snap, shoving him back.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Y/n. I said, move.” His voice carries the weight of a thousand suns as he stares hard into your eyes- and for a moment, you almost waiver, feeling a hypnotic force to obey his order. It’s strong, and it almost pains you to reject this invisible beckoning, but you have to. Despite his intense stare, you grit your teeth and clench your fists, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your core.

Your eyes lock onto his, acutely aware of the bright orange hue that has now plagued your irises as you struggle to maintain control. “Heeseung…” You gasp just before he crashes his mouth against yours.

With his lips on yours, the grip on your throat falters and he moves his hands to clutch at the sides of your face while shoving his knee between your legs. His fangs plunge into your bottom lip, puncturing the soft tissue until a stream of blood flows down your chin. You groan into his mouth as he begins to suck on your lip, tasting the warmth of your blood with a savage intensity. His tongue draws up and down your chin, soaking up each drop of blood that pulses out of your lip all while grinding his knee into your core, picking up on the scent of your essence leaking out of your cunt. His tongue plunges into your mouth and you taste the iron of your own blood on your tongue. It’s disgusting really, but the desperation of his kisses has you weak and reeling for more. You can’t help but get off on the taste of your own blood seeping through his tongue.

Shock and arousal have you drunk on Heeseung, but you summon every once of strength in you to shove him off of you with the strength of a phoenix. He stumbles backwards, flying into the edge of one of the sinks. “What the fuck!” he shouts, his voice dripping with fury and hunger. Heeseung clutches at his side, the impact likely adding on to the bruises from earlier.

“What the hell, Heeseung!” You shout, panting as you reach your hand to your lips, a drop of blood staining the microscopic divots of your fingers.

“I told you to fucking move!” He shouts back, massaging his side.

Your mind races as you think back to his journal entry. Glowing red eyes, disturbed senses, compulsive what? You wrack your brain for the rest of his vampiric rage symptoms, but the adrenaline of it all has your mind scrambled of any rationality. What was it that you had to do when he became like this? You’re so busy caught up in your own mind that you don’t notice Heeseung approaching you again, each of his steps dripping with savage lust.

He reaches out a hand, grabbing your arm and with unnatural speed and force, he pulls you into him. Your body abruptly presses against his, and the unmistakable feeling of his cock presses against your hip. “Focus on me,” he growls, forcing your eyes on him, “Only me.” The glowing intensity of his eyes ensnares your mind like a trap, leaving you gasping for air. A surge of slick gushes out of your cunt, pooling at the seat of your panties and leaving you with a desperate ache in your core. There’s a striking need to keep your eyes locked on his, a primal urge to surrender yourself to him entirely as his glowing red eyes pierce the amber haze of your own- igniting a part of your heart that you didn’t realize was dormant.

In one swift motion, Heeseung rips apart your top and latches his mouth onto your nipple while his hands massage your ass, pulling you plush against him. “Damnit, Y/n,” he moans, his fangs digging into the flesh of your breasts. “Couldn’t fucking listen… Just had to get in my fucking way.” He pulls you in by the ass, grinding his cock against you as he sucks on your nipple, his fangs nipping at the delicate flesh. His hand slaps your ass harshly, the sound of his palm landing against your cheek echoing in the chambers of the locker room. The sting of his hand against your ass only sends another gush of slickness through you, earning a dark chuckle from Heeseung. “I can fucking smell how turned on you are. You like it when I slap you?”

Blinded by an overwhelming wave of lust, you throw your head back and comb your fingers through his hair, relishing in the way his tongue flicks over your bud. “Hee, m-more.” You beg, feeling the trickle of something wet fall from where he’s sucking.

You look down only to see a shiny line of red trailing down your bare stomach, staining your leggings next. Heeseung licks a stripe up your stomach, catching the flow of red onto his tongue, groaning in delight as the taste of your blood soaks into his taste buds. In one sudden movement, Heeseung hoists you up and moves you to the counter, ripping your leggings off along with your panties. You lay bare before him now, back pressed on the counter, but you don’t even care. Your body is on fire, every nerve of yours flaring like a wildfire. You feel so overwhelmed with the desire to fill your pussy with something, anything- that you’re clawing at the air. “Please- I need you.”

“Use that fucking mouth of yours, baby. What do you need?” You mewl out a response as Heeseung dives headfirst into your cunt, pressing a rough kiss on your heat. The warmth of his tongue against her bundle of nerves leaves you shaking, moans erupting from your throat. He practically growls as he slides his tongue between your folds, getting a taste of your sopping pussy. “So fucking wet, you like disobeying me?”

You don’t say anything, instead opting to cry out and moan as he continues his assault on your cunt. “I asked you a fucking question,” he demands, slapping a hand down on your pussy.

The slap sends shockwaves through your body, the sting of his hand only offering you brief stimulation. “N-no, Heeseung! I’ll be good!” You shout, dragging your hands through his hair to pull him towards you while you buck your hips up. He brings his face down to kiss at your pussy again, rocking up and down so his nose rubs against your clit while he eats away at your core. You let your eyes wander down to his face, catching the sultry stare he gives you as he flicks his tongue in and out of your entrance.

Eventually, Heeseung slides three fingers in at once, not bothering to prep you as he deems the amount of slick pooling on the counter enough. “Fuck!” You scream, feeling the stretch of your walls adjust to the girth of his fingers. He pumps his digits in and out of you at a savage pace, ghosting his lips over your thighs as he does.

“Keep screaming, baby. Let me hear you.” He moans, biting down on your thigh suddenly. You scream out, a mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through you when you feel his fangs piercing your skin once again. The sound of his lips sucking around the wound sends another gush of arousal out of your cunt and you can feel a warmth building up in your lower abdomen. He sucks vigorously on the wound, wrapping his arm around your other thigh and massaging it generously.

“H-Heeseung-” You whine, squirming in his hold. “I-I’m close!”

“Cum on my mouth, let me taste you,” he encourages, moving around your thighs to press more bites into. A particular spot, closer to your pelvis, is bitten and that’s all you need to let go, the coil releasing as your pussy begins to clench around Heeseung’s fingers indefinitely. “Fuck, good girl, Y/n.” He says, moving his mouth back to your pussy, lapping at your folds. He sucks on your bud, drinking up your arousal as pleasure washes through your body like a tsunami. “So sweet,”

You shudder under his touch as his tongue stays extra diligent in swirling around your clit while he finishes you off. “Turn around,” he demands, helping you slide off the counter.

You struggle to stand up, entirely relying on Heeseung as he presses you against the counter, your breasts rubbing against the coldness of the counter. Behind you, Heeseung shoves his jeans and briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free, the tip an angry red from his neglect. “Give me your hands,” he says, catching them in the air as you throw your arms back. “Good girl,” he coos.

With his one free hand, he flicks it forward and a red tendril forms, ghosting from his palm like liquid smoke. “You’re gonna be good for me, right?” he asks, smirking as the red wisps move to coil around your wrists like a makeshift handcuff.

You nod anxiously, tears pricking your eyes as the strain of your hands behind your back begins to pull on your muscles. “My good fucking girl.” He says before plunging his cock into your soaking pussy, immediately followed by the snap of his hips. You scream as his cock fills you up, the girth stretching you out all at once. With the coil of his tendrils holding your arms captive behind your back, he lets his hands wander to your hips until they’re bruising you, using them as leverage to piston his cock in and out of you.

You have no idea for how long he continues, but you know he goes long enough to fuck you through two more orgasms before he begins to slow down. When he does, he reaches forward to grab you by your throat, pulling you to his chest. His lips ghosts over your pulse point as he continues to snap his cock into your pussy, the drag of his cock having you reel with pleasure. “I can taste your fucking pulse,” he whispers, licking your neck. You shiver under his touch, the warmth of his breath causing you to unintentionally clench around his member. “Don’t fucking squeeze like that,”

“Heeseung, I- I’m gonna cum again,” you cry, biting your lip as you close your eyes, too tired to keep them open.

He stays silent as he drags his mouth further down your neck, puncturing a few more spots as he soaks up the red liquid quickly. “So sweet, you taste so good.” He snaps his hips into you even deeper than before, the tip of his cock brushing against your G-spot now.

“Hee,” you beg, focusing on the stretch of his cock. You open your eyes just in time to see a collection of red tendrils surrounding you, some crawling up your body and you suddenly become acutely aware of the ghostly feeling of them roaming your bruising skin. They tickle the fine hairs of your body, leaving you a shaking mess before Heeseung as he continues to ravage your pussy.

The added stimulation sends you over the edge and you’re coming for the fourth time, crying out as you wrap your walls around Heeseung’s member tightly. “Fuck, I’m coming Y/n!” Heeseung shouts, shoving his cock up to the hilt of your pelvis.

With a few more thrusts, he stills, allowing his cum to bury itself deep within your womb. Spurts of cum shoot into you at such a force you feel each rope hit your walls, clenching around him as his dick pulses inside of you. Heeseung lets go of you once he starts to soften, his rosy mist disappearing into thin air as you collapse onto the cold surface of the counter. Without warning, he slides out of you and you wince, listening to him zip himself back into his jeans.

Your body is still shaking from the aftermath of your release when you hear Heeseung’s footsteps echo out of the changing room. When it fades, you’re left alone and bare, laying against the cool surface of the counter. In the absence of his presence, a wave of clarity rushes through you, replacing any lingering heat you once had. You can’t help but let out a string or curse words as you fumble around to put your clothes back on, each movement a cold reminder of your impulsive endeavors, your muscles already feeling the dull ache.

As you pull your leggings on, you feel the unwelcome sensation of his cum slowly leaking down, slick and cold now. At this point, you’re too focused on getting home to care- letting it trickle down your thigh as you head back home into the rising daylight. When you finally reach the temporary sanctuary of your studio apartment, you reach for your journal first. Shadow manipulation, you write that besides the writer’s notes on Heeseung’s page before collapsing face-first onto your bed, letting sleep consume you immediately.

Read part 2 here

Taglist: @heesimp, @kyunlov, @quill-ink, @lunaritex, @jiryunn, @jakeswifez, @fancypeacepersona, @nshmrarki, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @wilonevys, @strxwbloody, @capri-cuntz, @riribelle, @machambrx, @vousty, @rebeccakan

Permanent taglist: @kittys00, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @17ericas

[slackerlifewhere]

Involving kids in battles

There are a lot of opinions about Cale Henituse, formerly known as Kim Rok Soo. Some readers love him and some readers don't. Some find him funny and some think he's annoying. Some see his selflessness and some judge him as selfish.

He's a very complex character that is just tired of the bullshit the gods did to a lot of people including himself.

But the one thing that some readers do not like about him is how he includes kids in wars and battles against multiple powerful threats.

I've made a post about female characters that slightly mentions this. It can be found during On's part in the post if you're curious.

So here's the thing about the kids in TCF, or rather, the kids in Cale's group. They're strong in different ways.

And most of them, excluding Lily and Basen, are not humans.

To understand why I think their presence in battles are okay, let me first bring up Kim Rok Soo's past to understand the way he thinks.

As we all know, at least the ones who finished the first book, Kim Rok Soo did not have the best life. His parents died from a car accident when he was young and he was left to his abusive uncle. He was mostly alone with no connections to other people (for reasons you need to read about if you haven't yet) until the apocalypse (when he was a young part-timer) happened where he had to survive by himself until he became a member of a team with different abilities. He was a member who had to fight and watch people die when he was young until he's 36 years old.

He doesn't have a normal life and childhood.

'Kim Rok Soo had once had to starve in the past. He did not enjoy seeing children looking so skinny. Although Lock had always looked feeble and his tall height made him skinny from the start, he seemed even thinner now.' - Chapter 234: Something Obvious (3)

So if a person who grew up under these circumstances is suddenly thrusted into another world where anyone can die easily, what would he do?

Basen and Lily

His first reaction to the idea of Basen being sent to the plaza where Cale knows a tragedy might happen, is to agree with Deruth's idea of replacing Basen, knowing full well that his younger brother will not come back completely fine, especially since he's a normal kid. He chose to sacrifice his safety for a brother he barely knows since he recently just got transmigrated in this strange world. Basen is more fit to help in their territory than to fight in battles. And he does not see this as a weakness.

When Lily asks for a sword instead of a normal toy a child of her age would normally want, he easily agrees. This is a kid who wants to learn how to fight. He knows that there will be war coming to Roan Kingdom and their territory will be the first to face this danger. So the idea of her learning how to fight, with the mindset of someone who survived in an apocalypse, made him agree without complaints.

Raon Miru

Fast forward and he gained the trust of three children who are harmed by a tribe and a cruel noble. He pities them but also understands their pain at the same time, especially after everything he went through. He knows coddling them would not make things better since they already know how harsh the world is.

Raon is a baby dragon but he's stronger than all of the people in his group, except Eruhaben. He's a kid who easily talks about destroying the world if Cale doesn't wake up after fainting. He's a kid who wants revenge against Venion and he never let go of that anger even when he was freed by Cale and his group. He knows he's stronger than Cale and does not want to leave this "weak" human despite the strong enemies they face.

But Cale, even with this thought of "putting him to use" at first, told him to hide himself in all battles and when around strangers.

Even though he knows Raon can fight, it's obvious the little dragon will face potential problems if everyone knows there's a dragon in the group. Arm would do everything to get Raon and bring him to DHB, the nobles would probably become greedy, a lot of people will rely on him for things he shouldn't even need to do, and Raon will never be truly free from all the expectations placed on him.

He could leave Raon with Elves and Eruhaben but considering what Arm did to the elves, Eruhaben's lair, and Olienne, there are no safe places to leave him.

Cale gave him the freedom of choice. He can live freely as a dragon without trusting a human. He was fully confident that Raon will not follow him. But he did. So Raon is his responsibility now.

I made a post about liking both Cale and Reigen Arataka and I can honestly see their similarities in this part. They know the kid with them is stronger than them but they also know that fully placing all the responsibilities and expectations on this kid will ruin them.

He, like Reigen, tells his kids that it's okay to run when facing a strong opponent. That it's okay to rely and let the adults handle the hard part of the battle. He respects and relies on them when necessary and pulls them back when they face real danger.

When the White Star first appeared, Cale's first instinct was to hide Raon in his arms and to defend themselves from the man. He was also prepared to fight until Eruhaben appeared. No matter how much Raon wanted to fight, Cale kept hiding him and was genuinely scared for the dragon.

So yes, he cares for the kids in his own way but doesn't treat them in a patronizing manner.

On and Hong

Like I've mentioned in my other post, On and Hong also did not have a great childhood. They were chased from their tribe who wanted to kill them because they're "useless" and mutants.

They did not trust anyone until they met Cale who says one thing and does the opposite. They placed their trust on Cale who may appear indifferent and cold but seems to care for them by giving them bread, medicine, and meat without having expectations from them.

Some readers might find it distasteful but it's obvious that they want to be useful, no matter how small their contribution is to the fight. I think the term "useful" makes it cruel but for them, it's something to be proud of. When he first uses this term, it's when they were saving Raon. But his next instinct was to check if they're okay after infiltrating the cave.

Is it bad to let these kids fight after they escaped death? Yes and no.

They should be safe, away from harm or danger. That's normal to think about children and I agree they need safety like normal children. But once again, these kids aren't human and they are in a different world from us. They grew up in a tribe that expects them to be strong so in every opportunity, they look for ways to be strong.

That's not exactly a normal kid's way of thinking.

And again, Cale's initial indifference to everything around him is the extension of what his former life did to his psyche. He's not a normal person either. None of these characters are normal. Oddly enough, the most normal are Litana and Valentino.

And in all honesty, knowing how he thinks and respects someone's needs and wants, if they want to stay away from danger or stop fighting, there is no doubt he would accept their wishes and let them hide somewhere far away from Arm. But like Raon, they want to fight back against the tribe who wants them dead. In a sense, they also want revenge and to prove everyone that they've become strong.

Lock and the Wolf children

Lock is still a young boy, no matter how much he shoulders after the death of his tribe. I still see him as a kid like Basen.

When Lock was having troubles during the war, Cale did not scold him. Instead, he encouraged him to eat since he noticed how Lock hasn't been eating since he first learned he can't use his berserk form. He told him that he did not need to fight. His only role was to stand and protect Raon. Simple but it made Lock feel relieved and happy that Cale didn't get angry at him for being weak.

I see it as Cale just wanting him to step back and get stronger, to rely on the rest of the adults and to not worry about regressing. I can only imagine what Kim Rok Soo went through to be so wise about this kind of situation.

This part is one of the most memorable to me because of what happens at the end of the battle,

'I am the adult.

I am the guardian of these two children.

I need to take full responsibility since I chose to take them in.

I need the Super Rock's power.'

Cale, despite all his inner complaints and initial reluctance about how he's suddenly involved in a group of children's safety and protection, finally admitted how important it is that he takes full responsibility of those he took in. And the way he does it is by "sacrificing" himself.

When Lock finally overcome his fear and was about to protect Cale, Cale got annoyed and said,

"Children grow up so fast" with a pat on Lock's head.

He sounded like a father or an uncle who was proud of Lock for overcoming his obstacles. This one scene among multitudes of others made me recognize how much he cares for these children. It's happening mid-battle but it doesn't detracts the emotional value but only increases it. It was another reason why I find Cale Henituse so interesting and mesmerizing.

Conclusion

Cale Henituse, for all his self-hatred and low self-esteem, does not bring down a child or person's confidence. He gives them the choice to become strong and protects them when they're weak.

He does not force them to do anything they can't or don't want to do. He knows what he went through as Kim Rok Soo is bad and he doesn't want them to go through the same thing.

Reading between the lines made me see that there's something deeper than what Cale shows.

___

I'm not gonna lie, I sound like Clopeh at some parts whenever I write like this. I felt the same when I was writing about the female characters lmao

I'm sorry if this is so long 😅 I became too passionate about this topic. I understand the people who are worried about the kids but this is still my opinion about it.

[a-lurking-fae]

It's 7 in the morning but I HAD TO WRITE THIS DOWNNN

What if Fontainian!Reader + A/B/O dynamics + ill reader?? But the reader isn't an omega, no. They'd be a beta, and as we know, betas aren't that suseptive to pheromones at all, some not even noticing it.

In a family filled with strong Alphas, a simple beta is just... there? A weak beta that's quite out of place, are you really sure you belong there?

You don't notice how people run from you. They're scared of you for some reason? You don't notice the furious pheromones of your family when someone tells you you're a stain.

Whenever Bruce lectures you, that's the only time you actually talk to him. You don't know that he as been emmiting pheromones that literally scream "It's ok." or "Don't be scared."

No. He's straight up intimidating, he doesn't know you can't smell pheromones, he never really took the time to know you. You could've been an omega and he would even know. So you think he's super angry!

But, apparently Bruce can't help the bitch face and rough tone (っ ͡ ͡º - ͡ ͡º ς). Now if Fontainian reader was sick, I don't mean like terminal diseases from earth— I'm thinking about the abyssal corrosion. If the reader was an adventurer, it wouldn't be a surprise if they ran into the abyss.

But let's add the fact your the Hydro Archon's granddaughter, and the fact that your also the Hydro Dragon's granddaughter! You'd make such a good target, if your cursed, you don't have much to lose anymore.

So you pack your bags and leave for Fontaine, leaving the family for good. So you left a note for Alfred, telling him all about your situation. He'd be distressed! Alfred would tell Bruce, convincing him to get you. You were his daughter, why would he leave you to die!

Bruce promised himself that he wouldn't let another of his kids die, but here you were, that thing in your system killing you painfully and slowly.

Bruce knows about Teyvat, that's where your mother was from. He never met your grandparents, he'd like to know them now. The family faces another problem though, how do they get there?

Dick would skimm through your journals and diary, trying to find any clues on how to to you. But you've written it in another language, something that never existed in earth. And if you were well-versed in most languages in Teyvat, you guys know that when your super angry, sometimes you speak in all of them.

So instead of Tim and Barbara finding a pattern in your stuff, it's filled with multiple mixes of mysterious languages. Any progress would end up with another dead end.

Duke is absolutely happy, the both of you were the same age! Basically twins, both your birthdays a few days apart. You were the only sense of normalcy that he always craved, something most of the fucked-up-and-traumatized family members couldn't do. But when you left, that sense of stability started to fade. He worries about you day-and-night, he hopes that you'll be home soon.

Cass would learn normalcy from you, she was a trained weapon, she didn't have any clue what to do with you. After all, you always did your best to understand and teach her about emotions. She appreciates you a lot. You took care of her when she was sick, bandaged her up when she was injured, and baked her snacks. She wants to experience it with you again.

Damian's family is very much traditional. So he most likely would be angry, how could you leave them? Not only are they capable Alphas, but they're powerful as well. It was your adventuring in that world that got you sick. You should have simply stayed at home. When you get back to the mansion, you'll sit tight until they find a cure.

If it was Nicer!Damian, then he would be angry at himself. He wasn't enough for you to stay in Gotham, he promises that he'll be a better brother. He knows you could die any time there with the abyss and all! He nags Bruce and Tim to find you faster. Motivating them with the fact Teyvat is dangerous, wars there are going on! It was finished, also, Inazuma was far as fuck!

All-in-all, they'd do everything in their power to reach you, so they'd recruit the Justice league, especially Diana. She's well versed in these stuff after all. The Al Ghul's would help too. Checking family records if there were any thing pertaining to Teyvat.

Meanwhile, in Teyvat. You're swimming with the sea otters with Neuvilette and Furina, who took time off to spend time with their grandchild.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I literally love Snowfall so much. I went into The Dangerous Gift so prepared to hate the book and hate her but I literally love TDG and Snowfall so much. Do I have a reason? Yeah. Does it justify the lengths to which I would go for her? Probably not. But I genuinely think she's one of the best characters and her book is my absolute favorite.

Her character arc is so satisfying. I don't care if the ring was on the nose or if she "changed"!!!! She learned and grew from who she was before, and became a better dragon. She develops a meaningful friendship despite her fears, comes to terms with herself as a ruler, and breaks through her paranoia to help the Pantala tribes.

Boo hoo her arc was compelled forward with magic, she still learned!!! She always had empathy and compassion and drive, she just needs guidance to help break through her overwhelming fears and self-doubt.

She's literally awesome and the rest of you are sleeping on her but that's fine.

I love Snowfall <3

.

[brokenpieces-72]

Monster!141 x female! Jackalope/wendigo reader

CW/TW: poor eating habits, mentions of eating, mentions of human meat, crying, younger reader, note: in no way am I intending to offend anyone.

This was inspired by both @diejager and @bluegiragi and includes the reader character Hunter. This is also my first fanfiction being posted here and I have a couple to come if this one goes well.

A program is set up for hybrids that are considered difficult to control or dangerous to be around in public. Usually this is when their current living conditions are deemed as unsafe.

A jackalope with little knowledge of their own self fits both sides so locations and positions are set up for them to be in a safe controlled environment to learn how to keep themselves under control.

Price isn’t exactly happy when Laswell brings this to him. He’s not a babysitter and neither are his men. She explains to him there is little to be done and while she doesn’t agree with sending a vulnerable, uneducated, untrained teenager to a military base that deals with monsters, humans and hybrids alike, there isn’t much she can do either. Thankfully she does have some say in it, able to choose who comes on to the base. The files for candidates are sent to Price as well for review and upon looking at yours with a very dark and concerning past, he considers tossing it aside. Then he sees what hybrid you are. Having a few encounters in his past with hybrids like you he figures it would be safer taking you in then letting someone else get to you.

You do receive some training before transferring with a Retainer/handler who watches over you and determines whether you are ready to integrate into society. You aren’t sure if this will really help you join society but you figure it’s better someone taking you in rather than staying in the program. Price intends to put you to work after all and the location isn’t without risk. You’re told there are other hybrids on base, and you assume there will be at least a couple.

The first person you meet is Nikolai, the pilot for the awkward bumpy flight to base. He’s almost twice your height, plenty of people you have met are. You’re not very tall so not surprising, but you aren’t very used to people. Part of the program especially for you is keeping you isolated from most humans. His friendly attitude towards you is a little startling but you warm up to it quickly.

The flight was mostly your retainer setting ground rules and briefing you on what you will be doing. You would be training with him mostly, and doing everything he says. No stuffing your face, meals kept strict, and no seconds or late snacks. Nikolai calls you to the front halfway through the journey and lets you sit next to him. He could overhear your conversation with the retainer, wanted to give you a break from it while wanting to learn more about you.

You don’t have much to say, cause well you haven’t done much on your own. Well you do enjoy drawing, and reading. Sometimes writing is fun but that’s mostly it so far. He tells you a bit about the 141, recounting the small tales but while hinting at what hybrids you’ll be working with.

Soon you land on the base and exit the chopper heading towards the Task Force 141. In front is a dragon hybrid and next to him is a human, both in uniform. Names are exchanged and you’re led inside the base where you meet the others. You notice he’s missing a wing and his tail wrapping around the human’s leg. As a hybrid your instincts tell you what he’s doing. You’re not a massive threat to him being so young, but his body language makes it clear the value he puts in the medic and likely the rest of his men. He read your file, so you can’t blame him for being extra protective. You keep your head down as you’re taken inside with your handler.

You’re introduced to each of the 141 including the human, who asks to do a health assessment before anything else. Your retainer is strongly against this, insisting that you’ve already been cleared and don’t require one. There’s somewhat of a back and forth between them with you simply standing there. Your handler raises his voice and you have to dig your nails into your palm to not run off. You’re wondering if you should offer your own choice or ask someone what you should do while waiting. Price puts it forward that you get a check up so that Hunter can assess your conditions first hand.

You follow Hunter to their station in the infirmary, taking you to a private room. Hunter gets many looks while you follow them from the other soldiers with a couple even following with them to the room. You meet a harpy called Gaz and a werewolf called Soap. They stick closer to Hunter almost in a protective sense. Though each of them give you an acknowledgement. Soap has never smelled a hybrid like you before, and Gaz wasn’t sure what to make of you either. Your rabbit ears and antlers were hardly a cause for alarm though. You weren’t exactly intimidating. Hunter takes you into the private room while the two hybrids wait outside, offering to help them with paperwork and taking you to wherever you need to go next. The examination is very simple, checking to see your vitals, understanding how you worked so Hunter could help you on missions, and learning any instinctual habits you may have.

When Hunter asks you to take off your hoodie and remove your shirt, you do so. Their eyes go wide upon seeing your body. Your retainer’s “work” was evident by your rib cage and flattening stomach.

“When was the last time you ate?” Hunter asks.

When you tell them the last time you ate, they excuse themselves. You wait for about 15 minutes, when there’s a knock telling you to get dressed and come out. Gaz is still there but clearly Soap had left with Hunter. He takes you to a small room for you to bunk in for the next while.

You later find out Hunter had left the room and smacked your retainer for his methods. Even Price had to get involved to keep the two from getting more violent. Hunter is certainly a force to be reckoned with when it comes to patients. The handler believes that limiting your food intake will help you keep control. Hunter doesn’t agree with starving you, but Price can’t really argue with it.

The next while you’re training, and you do everything you can to keep up. Your limits are pushed and Price isn’t about to go easy on you. Partially cause he hopes the retainer will increase your food intake. It’s a lot, and Hunter doesn’t like seeing you running laps and drills knowing you haven’t been eating much. You push yourself hard, not giving in to judgements from humans or the other hybrids. It doesn’t matter if you’re the last or the worst or even fail the most, you keep pushing.

Meals are strict, with small but reasonable portions for you and eating by yourself in your room. For the next while this becomes the routine, with the occasional snack being slid to you by Hunter. It does make sleep difficult and your stomach growls periodically. Soap takes notice right away how bad it is, your stomach is almost like a random alarm for him, that he can’t shut off.

“You hungry?” He asks sarcastically. You shake your head, only for your stomach to object again. Soap rolls his eyes.

“Take a couple.” He says offering you some of his snacks. When you try to turn it down, he starts insisting harder. “Come on, the noise is drivin me bloody mad. Take em, a few won’t kill ya.”

You do so, and you take another couple after. Soon enough he’s slipping you pieces of his snacks when your handler isn’t around, like chips or cookies.

You have to go to school still, off base and some jerks decided to lock in a closet. Despite your protests and pleas they decide to leave you there overnight. You have a few snacks but you can feel yourself getting increasingly hungry, and you know it won’t be long until you lose it. You try your handler but they aren’t picking up. You don’t want to but you call Soap who picks up groggily.

“The hell is callin…” he groans.

“Soap it’s me…I’m really sorry…” there is a quiver in your voice as you talk.

“…kid? The bleeding hell you still doing up? Wait, where the ell are you?”

You explain you’re stuck and hungry and really need help.

“Alright alright…I’m on my way… you need food?”

“Yes.”

He sighs and asks what you want to eat, if there’s any comfort food you have while he’s getting his shoes and pants on.

“Are you mad…” you ask in a small voice he can just barely hear over the phone. He’s been in highschool as a hybrid and had people pick on him, call him a mutt yank at his tail, try to get him in trouble and whatnot.

“I’m mad at the pieces of shite that did this to you. What do you want to eat?” He says. You tell him and wait patiently after he hangs up.

Gaz is woken up, and looks over.

“Was goin on…” Gaz asks.

“Kid is stuck at school. Literally.” Soap says, lacing his shoes.

“She have food?” Gaz mutters rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“No, so I’m getting her some.”

“What she want?” Gaz yawns.

Soap tells him and he orders it for pick up before getting dressed himself.

“What is she still doing at school?” Gaz asked pulling his hoodie on. “Little help?”

Soap helps get Gaz’s wings through the slots on his hoodie as he explains. Gaz can relate. He’s been bullied as well, and hell you’re a kid with a strong will. It’s not fair for you to be pushed so hard only for school to make you feel like shit. They pick up the food and head over to the school.

“Come on.” Soap jogs to the door and tries it. “Mother…they don’t check if anyone’s still inside?”

Gaz takes one of his feathers off and picks the lock. Gaz opens it and Soap shifts and gets in, as soon as he can fit through the door.

“Kid you here?” He yells. Nothing. Gaz comes up behind him.

“I want to make a lassie joke so hard right now.” Gaz admits, while Soap picks up your scent and hurries off up and down the halls, trying to figure out where you are. He starts scratching at a maintenance door. Gaz knocks on it.

“Kid you in there?” He calls.

“Y-yes!” You call back.

“We’re gonna help you okay? Just hold tight.”

“Gaz move.” Soap says. Gaz just barely gets out of the way before Soap manages to smash it in. They find you curled up and clutching your stomach. Gaz flaps away the dust before stepping over the broken remains of the door. He gives you the bag ripping it open and you hands go in quickly. You ravenously eat away at the first thing you get, a still warm hashbrown. One bite and you stand up but Gaz keeps you sitting.

“Don’t choke, finish that first.” He orders. You do as he says a mutter through mouthfuls, “sorry.”

“So what exactly happened?” Soap asks.

“They pulled my ears and kept asking to see my tail… kept telling them I didn’t have one.” You mutter, finishing the hashbrown. “A few of them grabbed me and shoved me in here…kept calling me ‘bunny’ and ‘rabbit’. Said they would stuff me later.”

“No one’s stuffing anything except the assholes that did this and where it don’t shine.” Soap growls. In the dark it’s a little more intimidating with yellow glowing eyes. Gaz stretches a wing around you and gives you another piece of the order to munch on while he helps you out of the room. You go on about how they kept messing with you in various childish ways. The bullies had yanked your ears, played with your antlers and called you a bunny breeder. Gaz and Soap get you into the backseat and encourage you to keep eating.

“You got made fun of by the teachers pet?” Soap asked a little surprised.

“He said I was the new class pet.” You say. “Then he wouldn’t stop saying I had to eat carrots and wasn’t allowed to have any of the snacks I brought.”

“You ignore em?”

“Tried, but then he started telling me I shouldn’t be snacking and had to eat ruffage.”

“Wow…” Gaz says. “You could always threaten to gnaw on his pencils.”

“How’s the food?” Soap calls from the front.

“Good. I should stop though.”

“You almost finished?” Soap says checking on you in the rear view.

“Uh…halfway?” You relay after checking the bags contents.

“Keep eating.” Soap says.

Gaz gives Soap a look.

“One meal won’t kill her.” Soap says quietly.

“Thank you for getting me.” You say.

“Hunter would have my head.”

Sadly your bonding time doesn’t go unnoticed and Price calls you all into the office. Your handler is unhappy you didn’t try contacting him first, and you stay quiet. Price chews out Soap and Gaz for B&E and property damage, until they explain what had happened to you. He’s a bit more lenient but not by much.

You, Soap and Gaz have definitely bonded more and at this point you’ve sort of become the team’s pup. Soap and Gaz teach you to fight hand to hand, and they’re careful with you at first. You’re younger and smaller but you don’t hold back against them. They show you some maneuvers and Gaz uses his hardened feathers for knife training, going slow and giving you the chance to bat away his strikes. Off time is spent with them, getting a chance to go climbing or hanging out in the rec room. Soap teaches you how to play football, and Rudy and Alejandro join in as well. Soap and Alejandro definitely start showing off their speed and strength to the point you and Rudy find it safer to watch from the sidelines with Gaz. One wrong kick makes all your caution warranted, as you have to shove Rudy over and the ball takes off part of your antler and is pierced in the process. Hunter gave Soap a very harsh talking to afterwards, and made sure you were okay.

Your handler over time becomes less and less involved with you but maintains your eating routine. He keeps your training high giving you exercises daily, that keep you busy from dusk til dawn. It’s exhausting and Hunter does express some concern to your handler who eventually gives in and increases your food intake some more.

Soap and Gaz have basically taken over your sparring sessions, keeping you trained and ready for anything. You have found a couple weaknesses when you go one on one. If Soap shifts to werewolf, you can get him with belly rubs.

Rudy had started showing you some tracking skills, and even introduced you to his dog spirits. Both spirits are weary of you at first with the red and black growling while the other stayed close to its vessel protectively. After calming them, Alejandro shifts to a panther or jaguar based on the terrain and becomes the target to track. At first he makes it easy but since you don’t hold back on Soap and Gaz he doesn’t hold back on you. You and Rudy both have to try and find him before he finds you, which is a bit of a 50-50. Your own skills as a hybrid are shown to be useful in more wild and natural terrain. In fact you become the one to be the target and the two of them actually find some difficulty locating you.

“She couldn’t have gotten that far yet…” Rudy is scratching his head, genuinely dumbfounded. Alejandro shifts back next to him looking at his partner.

“Fast learner.” He comments, impressed by your skills.

“Si.” Rudy sighs before jerking forward, hit in the back from behind. “Agh!”

Alejandro checks Rudy’s jacket and finds a stain from a paintball. They both look up and towards where the shot had come from. There they see you behind a tree covered in dirt and mud, trying to hold back the grin on your face. The two men look at you surprised, and even Alejandro is stunned that he couldn’t detect you, while the white and blue cadejo trots over and barks at you, tugging at your clothes with his teeth. The two men look at each other baffled how you got 15 feet away from them without either noticing. Alejandro waves you over to them, while the cadejo playfully tugs at your jacket.

“Fall in corporal, back to base.” He calls over and you get up from your hiding spot. Your legs were dirty and…wet? The ground was damp but you were almost soaked.

“You take a bath Mija?” Alejandro asks crossing his arms.

“No sir.” You answer, shaking your head.

“You’re wet though.” Rudolfo comments, noticing the state of your pants as well.

“Yes sir.” You reply. Alejandro gives a half grin.

“Why are you wet corporal?” He asks.

“The river sir.” You answer. They hadn’t told you about the river nearby, not to mention it was a few clicks further than they had expected you to reach. You take note of their expression and shift slightly in place. “Should I not have…?”

“Por el contrario, you did very well Mija.” Rudolfo says.

“Very good.” Alejandro comments. “You cold?” He asks. You shake your head. There was a chill but it didn’t bother you. They take you back to base.

Missions go fairly well though you are often knocked down. It can be hard when you’re up against many other hybrid creatures. Ghost comes to your aid before any fatal blows can be made, consuming enemies in his shadows when he wasn’t slipping out of them to slit enemy throats. The lieutenant didn’t agree with bringing someone as young as you on missions, and hated that he was playing babysitter half the time. Ghost can sense something off about you though. Maybe it’s your smiling, or your friendliness, of this odd presence that seems to surround you like an aura. Either way, you show yourself to be a fast learner and strong soldier. Your main focus is to incapacitate enemies, even though you’ve been taught where vitals are and how to use a gun and a knife quickly.

“Would make life easier to kill… that’s what soldiers do.” He comments. You look out at the men he’s fed on. You’re quiet thinking for a moment before responding.

“If I killed all of them though…you wouldn’t get to eat as much.” You say with a cheeky smile. His expression doesn’t change.

“Don’t worry too much. Focus on your safety first.”

“Yes sir.” You say losing the smile. He’s not wrong. After that you ask Ghost for help with laying killing strikes. Not in the field but in training. He agrees mainly because you’ve shown promise and a willingness to improve yourself. Knife training with him is rough usually leading to you getting winded and on your back.

The hands on learning is honestly better than anything else though and your exercise routines just become a warm up. You look forward to everything and take everything seriously, asking questions and showing interest in what is presented to you. Weapons training is a bit daunting, as the guns are a bit heavy, but you find your skills work good with unconventional weapons. A slingshot proves strong with you, and even crossbows. Price helps you with improving your poor aim and there are times where you will spend almost an entire night just trying to hit the targets set in front of you.

Your handler is an afterthought except when you get invited to eat with them. He’s right there ready to tell you you can’t eat with them and your food is in your room. You excuse yourself and eat alone again. However on the nights he’s away you do take the opportunity to sit with them, and just bring your food out of your room. The amount while bigger is still small for a soldier, even for a teenager. Most of them assume it’s an insecurity for you so they don’t pressure you to eat more, or comment on it. Soap offers some of his snacks still.

Hunter is instructed when the handler goes on leave to give you meals he has premade for you. They have half a mind to toss them and get you to eat with everyone else, however much you wanted, but they leave the opaque container in your room as instructed.

You don’t eat any of it though. You recognize the smell and are both disturbed and distraught. No. Not that. Memories come flooding back, ones you wanted to stay buried. It takes everything not to break down, and your stomach is churning and begging for sustenance.

Do you tell someone? Would anyone believe you? Should you eat it? No of course not! But you’re so hungry and your mouth is watering. The scent makes your stomach do hard and painful flips, as if there was a grinding wheel whipping around in your belly. You try to look for snacks that you may have hung on to from Hunter but find nothing. The hunger starts to consume your thoughts faster than you’ve consumed anything. Your body starts to alter, you teeth grow sharper, your sense of smell grows stronger and you cling to yourself.

Hungry hungry hungry…starved…

You act fast and get your pillow case, tying it in your mouth, before getting your hoodie on and bolting. You’re fairly agile in your human form and your desire for sustenance drives you forward. Meat is everywhere but you don’t want it. You don’t want to want it. Any soldiers you pass, you keep your head down, and rush past them. You don’t even look up for your teammates calling for you, and instead bolt faster. You finally get outside and sprint for the woods with soldiers calling after you, and trying to stop you to figure out what’s going on. It isn’t long before your body shifts and contorts and you smell meat nearby.

Eat…eat…

Your sudden leave doesn’t go unnoticed. At first, your team saw you and thought you had to hurry somewhere or didn’t see them. Then Alejandro and Soap passed your door while talking.

“Hunter really told you no more football?” Alejandro asks.

“Won’t stop me from playan, but they did warn mae ‘bou-“ Soap and Alejandro both freeze in place smelling the food in your room, the door shut. What the fuck? They look at each other disturbed and in shock. Soap opens the door and his eyes widen in shock seeing what was inside the container.

“Steamin bloody Jesus.” He says while covering his nose and mouth with an arm. Flies buzzed around the human organs you were served in the container.

“The hell kind of diet is this, Mija?” Alejandro says under his breath. Soap puts the lid back on and takes it to Hunter. No way they would do this, but they likely knew who did.

“OI! Hunter!” Soap yells.

“Soap! Gods, please knock next ti-“

“The bloody hell is this!?” He demands holding up the container. Hunter is confused.

“The corporal’s meal? Why do you ha-“

Without wasting anymore time he sets it down and opens the lid enough for them to see. Hunter stands up from their desk quickly, and in shock.

“Soap the fuck is wrong wi-“ Hunter starts.

“The fuck kind of meal is this!” Alejandro barks.

“What?!” Hunter is just as confused.

“This is the corporal’s meal.” Alejandro clarifies.

Hunter is just as disturbed as they are and goes into the storage where the rest of your meals were being kept for the time of his leave. They found more organs and human remains. Hunter wasn’t sure whether to be pissed, disgusted or distraught.

“What the bloody… I’m taking this to Price immediately this is beyond fucked. Where’s the corporal right now?” Hunter demands to know. Soap recalls seeing you running down the hall.

“She’s run off.” Soap concludes. Hunter takes a moment to breath and calm themselves, somewhat relieved.

“She could be anywhere by now.” Alejandro adds recalling your tracking lessons.

Hunter heads for the door and the two hybrids follow as they go to the captain’s office. He looks up from some papers before standing, seeing the door open.

“The corporal is MIA.” Hunter states. Price is confused until they explain what was in the food. Price is angry, ready to roast the retainer upon his return but you are more important along with any bystanders. A search is put out and human soldiers are instructed to stay on base while Task Force 141 along with Rudy and Alejandro track you down. Price knew there was too much of a risk for regular humans to be close to you in this state.

The cadejos catch your scent and lead the search with Rudy keeping a watchful eye for any movement. Alejandro and Soap follow the scent and cadejos with Hunter riding Soap’s back to assist them. Gaz had taken to the sky trying to find you from above and cover more ground. The scent is how they follow you but they know you’re in the area by the sounds of screeches and unearthly clicking. Price hasn’t heard noises like that in a very long time. Ghost advises caution to everyone while he moves through the shadows and senses death all around them. He soon finds it as well.

At first a couple of bisected birds and bitten voles were traces. The deeper they went the bigger the animals. Soon it was small boars that had their meat stripped. There were a few large birds that had managed to escape but were bleeding. A few foxes were limping and cowering in their dens. When the team finally found you they kept their distance with Ghost being the closest to you, discovering why he had felt uneasy around you.

You were gorging yourself on the carcass of a large elk, and stuffing handfuls of blood and raw meat into your mouth savouring every bite. Dark crimson caked your mouth and hands as you continued eating, getting into your hair every time you decided to literally stuff your face. Your boney limbs and sharp fingers clawed pieces off and your jagged sharp teeth tore into thicker, tougher parts. Gaz lands in one of the tall trees while Alejandro circles around slowly and quietly planning to flank you if you tried to bolt, his oanthef form slinking around in the underbrush keeping distant and cautious. Soap proceeds closer, slowly. He has Hunter on his back and at the moment was a muscled riot shield for them. You continued feeding ignoring them all, when Soap noticed the screeching had stopped and heard your muffled whimpers and sobs mixed in with the sounds of your eating.

He moves closer and closer, letting Hunter walk next to him.

You stop eating to wipe your mouth fruitlessly. That’s when you notice the large wolf standing before you, staring at you with eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. In the moonlight he could see your tears, lightly cutting through the blood and grime on your face. Your eyes were pure white, and almost void of life. Hunter came up next to him, and you start to scramble back, worried you might go for them.

“Hey hey, no it’s okay. You’re okay…” they reach into their med bag and took out a chocolate bar, tearing off the wrapper for you and offering it. It was like an animal trainer trying to get their charge to trust them. You slowly crawl over, eyes blank and white, but docile.

“Let’s make it a bit smaller.” They mutter. Hunger breaks a piece and you back away again, crawling on all fours. Hunter leans in a bit, offering the smaller piece to you. You take it gingerly and bite down on the candy. When the human medic offers the rest, you dig into it, eating it like nothing had gone wrong. Like you hadn’t run off, shifted and started gorging on the elk carcass right next to you. The area was quiet while your team watched as you continued eating. The snack was so good, so much better than the carcass.

It had happened again. You lost control again. You were a monster and you killed so many innocent animals. Tears continued to fall as the regret set in. When you smell human meat and you’re hungry, it can set you off, making your only thoughts to be “eat”. Animals weren’t as effective hence the number you had taken out. Human food, like the candy, was a middle ground. It would take some time to bring you back to your human state, and taking less to do so.

When you finally spoke, all you could croak out was a small and raspy, “sorry”.

Hunter offers you some more food, proper food, and you eat it slowly, trying not to make yourself sick. First it was the chocolate bar, and then some crackers, an apple, some water, a few carrots. Your beastly features begin to dull, and you feel yourself growing tired. Hunter moves closer with every bite and holds you close while you cry into them, and continue eating the food they give you. Soap curls himself around you preventing escape and trying to comfort you and protect Hunter. Neither of them worries about the blood, they had worse before. Soon you tucker yourself out and Hunter picks you up, and gets back on Soaps back.

“Price, target found and incapacitated. Returning to base.” Ghost said over comms.

“Copy Lt.” Price responded through a long sigh of smoke.

When you woke up you had food next to you on the bed, and Soap asleep in a chair. He wakes up to see you eating the food left for you, and smiles.

“Mornin’ Corporal.” He says.

“I’m sorry.” You say.

“Don’t. You didna do anythin wrong.” He said. He ruffles your hair which you realize had been cut off rather awkwardly. Apparently the blood was too thick to wash, and cutting it was the safer option. You didn’t mind.

For the rest of your handlers leave, your eating becomes top priority. If you try to skip meals, you’re hauled to the mess hall, or get a protein bar in your hand. You get firm reminders that your actions that night are not your fault. Hunter is ensuring you get your meals at regular times, and that you’re staying healthy in your eating habits. They’ve also taken to checking your weight, and body, which regains some pounds. Meanwhile paperwork is being shifted around and sorted and handed and signed making a report about what happened and the illegal obtainment of human organs and their distribution. Laswell is more than pissed and ensures your handler is kept off base for longer than he had intended to be.

A couple months go by of you recovering and getting into a healthier routine. You mention to your team that your form is much different and (you later learn) the one they had seen happens when you get hungry and are unable to eat. With this comes the chance to show off your monsterous form, which leaves them with surprised looks and a bit of shock. Your human form grows and your head is replaced by a deer skull, while your limbs shed skin and are replaced with natural wood, and your rib cage and a few other pieces are beared for them to see. Like Soap your clothes do get torn up, but you prepared with a blanket nearby.

You look down at them, and step back a little while they stare. Price smiles seeing what you are meant to look like, the full spirit creature. Price approaches you first and you go lower for him to meet your eyes. A hand is place on your skull and tilt your head.

“Welcome to the 141.” He says smiling. Soap steps up and shifts to his wolf form. You get down on all fours for him and he gives a soft headbutt against your shoulder which you return.

“Stuck with us now Corporal.” He barks.

Soap helps you feel more comfortable with your form, and helps you learn to move in it as well, alongside Alejandro. You find that while you’re bipedal, running on all fours does have some speed to it. You’re even more of a natural climber, able to launch yourself off large tree trunks and latch on to the next one, making any large enough forest a parkour playground. The cadejos are weary still but Rudolfo continues working with you on tracking. Alejandro is often busy having to assist the captain with paperwork. Gaz starts helping you instead, making your hiding even more fun, since he has the best sight out of everyone. Now you’re the target even more for them to find, which they assume won’t be hard with your immense size but your terrain becomes a part of you, and you it letting you hide almost in plain sight.

Ghost assists you in ways you weren’t expecting, as he helps you feel more comfortable with death. Now your sparring and take down sessions often come with a small talk. Taking a life isn’t easy, and given your story, he wants you to know you’re defending yourself and others. It’s not uncommon for you to get a bit carried away on missions now, as you’re able to charge with Soap into a fray. Your larger size makes it easy for you to forget your surroundings. It leads to more casualties than knock outs. Price even tells you what he knows about wendigos and works on getting as much information from you about the handler as he can. Price lets you use him as a target now for shooting range, given how much better your aim has gotten.

Your team becomes your family as older siblings, uncles and sometimes even dads. They pass on everything they can to you. At this point they’ve come to see you as the pup in their pack, the one they raise into a fighter and protector for the future.

Visual reference for wendigo form

[manasurge]

I just wanted to do a bunch of snippets of Mourynn and Wynne during the time when Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker after she awakened (this was orignally meant to just be lineart, but it is easy to mistaken Wynne for Caithe here, so I added the flatcolour version to remedy that)

I figured I may as well include some lore stuff under the cut (mostly Wynne related stuff, but other Firstborn era stuff from around this time as well. Sorry that this is so long lskjdflk):

(Sorry this is all in point form, it’s just easier for me to write stuff out and digest it this way. Suffer with me and my ADHD way of synopsis writing)

After Mourynn (or whoever she was originally meant to be) finally emerged from her pod a year late, she was frail and unstable due to her “unique condition”. It was a miracle she was alive at all, due to her extremely late arrival that was accelerated after her pod died for a short while (due to Vallotash accidentally killing her and trying to reverse her mistake, affectively taking over her body instead and erasing her own memories and replacing it with what remained of the Firstborn’s. More here in the origins link: EPILOGUE)

(The first few pics up top portray Wynne helping Mourynn after Awakening, where her head is hurting terribly and she has no strength to stand on her own yet).

Since there were no Menders at this time (as none of the Secondborn would even exist for another year or so), and their “Late-bloomer” was in need of urgent care or she was bound to perish yet again, Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker while she was under quarantine for a number of reasons, not all of them made apparent due to sensitive matters.

In addition, Mourynn was originally supposed to be part of the Dawn trio of Firstborn, but due to the uh, situation, she awoke during the cusp at midnight, effectively making her a Nightbloom instead (well, she insists anyways), which was another obligatory reason why Wynne felt compelled to help look after her (with Wynne being the oldest in the cycle, and Mourynn being the youngest).

However, what Wynne never spoke about was the secret she learned about their origins with Mordremoth, a secret she kept with the Pale Tree, and where this gut feeling of unease loomed over in her mind with the consistent unusual things that kept happening with this final pod.

She could sense that something felt very off and she didn’t know what, but she didn’t want to take the risk in case her suspicions were correct. The fact she couldn’t sense Mourynn’s Dream connection or sense her at all was alarming enough, but she didn’t want her worries to be true or to have doubt that one of their own was a danger to them, especially one whom she was greatful to be alive at all. But in the worst case scenario where she was right, she needed to be the one to do what had to be done for all their sakes, even if she really didn’t want to. To protect the secret as long as possible, and to keep the rest of the Sylvari safe, if it had to come to that.

By becoming Mourynn’s Caretaker, she would be able to monitor her at all times and keep watch of her condition. While she hated how horrible it felt having to watch their youngest with a metaphorical knife behind her back, she still did genuinely want to help her get better, trying her hardest to not bond too deep of a connection in case she had to sever it.

But Wynne being Wynne, she was hospitable and kind-hearted by nature. She felt guilty having to watch Mourynn with this ulterior motive and having put doubt in someone who barely had the chance to exist, but she made up for it by working tirelessly to figure out what it was that was causing her constant declining health.

And that, she did!! While Wynne wouldn’t admit that she was avoiding this last approach (after many other various trials) due to what it might entail (dragon connection), Wynne was able to discover Mourynn’s magic deficiency, and had to muster up creative ways to get some magic into her system (with some help of the other Firstborn finding different sources of magic for her to use).

Once Mourynn’s physical status started to recover, she wasn’t uncomfortably bored and bedridden for long hours of the day anymore. Her head hurt way less, she had energy, and was visibly less wilted too. Now Wynne, despite the potential risk of increasing the potential Dragon-link threat by giving it a source of magic, was still relieved that she was able to discover the cause of her problems, and now she just had to help her find a way to maintain it (which is where Mourynn started practicing both Artificing and Cooking TOGETHER to make herself magically enhanced food, as well as potions for on-the-go, but food seemed to be the most effective and long-lasting).

Now that Mourynn was able to actually thrive and be more independent, the two of them could finally converse more thoroughly and do other things. At this point, Mourynn’s entire existence was being connected to Wynne and having her around (even though she desperately wanted to see and know Caithe more after she rescued her from the Dream, she was often out and about elsewhere with Faolain, leaving her with Wynne, who seemed to be the only person who insisted in keeping her around. Something she became reliant on, being her only true comfort and familiarity).

At this point in time, Wynne was the person she was closest with, the two of them spent a lot of time doing other things. Walks around the Grove, Wynne told her stories, Mourynn TRIED to tell her anything, but her memory was nearly void save for the last few moments, which Wynne reassured her was alright (despite it being one of the many signs that worried her).

They would prepare food together, nap together, cloud watch/stargaze, play with Fern Hound pups, Mourynn would show her some of the shaping she had been practicing (exceptionally well too. Potentially concerning) but was too self-conscious to show anyone else (especially Kahedins, who she was forming a one-sided rivalry against). They shared a lot of fond memories and experiences in this short time, and even though Wynne was wary of bonding at all (in case of the worst), she reluctantly cast all her doubts aside as she didn’t see her as a threat anymore, despite the quiet little voice in her head that was still left uncertain, which she chose to ignore.

Now with Mourynn more independent, Wynne could continue pursuing some things she had on hold or could only partially work on during her caretaker role. She would leave the Grove for a while, and would encourage Mourynn to get to know her fellow Firstborn while she went to attend other matters. Mourynn, of course, was TERRIFIED at this thought and avoided them isntead. While she enjoyed the new freedom she had, she hadn’t realized how dependant she had grown to Wynne’s presence, choosing to quietly watch the others in the background (or just go elsewhere to be alone instead).

It took a bit of effort, but Wynne basically had to properly re-introduce her to the others (how embarrassing!), despite the fact that they had all been living under the same canopy all this time. Wynne couldn’t get too upset since this was kind of her fault for making her this way due to her obsessive guardianship, which hindered proper socialization. Mourynn’s Nightbloom-ness was extremely apparent as well, earning her the cheeky little “Wallflower” nickname from the others (primarily Faolain) due to how little she connected with them, and her overall avoidance and quietness (not to mention she was a little weird and off-putting, but no one was going to say that to her face. Except for Faolain, of course).

Mourynn did eventually start to interact with the others more (albeit a bit cautiously). The Pale Tree helped nudge her in the right direction and break the ice. Mourynn could sense something wasn’t quite right about herself and that was influencing her skittishness, but the Pale Tree brought her comfort when Wynne was away (which made it obvious how depressed and lonely this made Mourynn feel, but it was necessary. This also lead to Mourynn spending a lot of time in the Omphalos Chamber).

While she didn’t connect with everyone (as not everyone was there anymore, such as Riannoc being dead before her awakening, and the others that left the Grove during this time whom she only got to briefly meet beforehand), she did finally get to see more of both Caithe and Faolain (the Toxic Throuple stuff will be for another post >:3), and would eventually be tutored by Faolain in fine tuning her Mesmer skills as her nightmarish illusions/hallucinations were getting out of hand and causing havoc as Wynne was away longer and longer, and how her teleportation abuse was becoming a bit of a nuisance as well (and Faolain of course, would love to take this offer to be her mentor. I’ll save this for another post later too).

Aife also became one of the other Firstborn she bonded a bit more with (as Mourynn was meant to be a Dawnbloom initially, so Aife was a bit saddened to see her fellow pod-mate separate from them), but she did offer Mourynn a place of respite whenever she needed somewhere quiet and peaceful (the Garden of Dawn secret area, which also has the waterfalls which Mourynn felt very comfortable in, of which she will discover her affinity for water later as well).

Of course, everything leads to the end where we all know what happens to Wynne in the Point of No Return chapter, but unfortunately Mourynn does not. She won’t find out Wynne’s fate until much later, and will only be left with the ongoing worry and sadness that Wynne left for Dry Top and was never seen again, only leaving her with some uneasy parting words that felt like a potential final goodbye (as Wynne was already aware that Faolain might take things too far, considering how much she was hounding her already, and knew the secret she was carrying was heavy and dangerous). (Also to note, Mourynn isn’t meant to be portrayed as like, a shy quiet uwu softie. She’s not. She’s just a bit avoidant and quiet (and yes shy), but in a more wary/cautious/antisocial-esq kind of way. She has a dry sense of humour, is quite blunt, and is a bit of a menace who talks a bit weird and misunderstands things a lot (because I think it’s hilarious), but is a very good listener and will keep many secrets. She’s trying hard to act normally, but her dragon-brain wiring is also making this very difficult. Also with technically being a parasite (as that’s what Vallotash is), it’s partially in her nature to latch onto someone and be a bit co-dependent (as seen above), even though she contradictorily wants to be completely independent as well, causing a lot of internal conflicts in her mind and emotions)

[cursedonyx]

I read the post about students reacting to mc dying in their arms. You should do the professors (including Black)

Thank you for the ask! 💚

Hogwarts Legacy Professors React to MC Dying in Their Arms

Link to student reactions here

⚠️Content warning for Death and Body Horror Below the Cut⚠️

Professor Hecat

Dina Hecat had rarely found herself as impressed with a student as she was with you. Your tenacity, your aptitude for magic, your ability to pick up new and complex defensive magic was unmatched, though Sebastian made a valiant effort to maintain a solid second place behind you. Such was your prowess that Dina thought you might make an excellent Auror, and determined to tutor you privately once you expressed an interest. It was a thrill to begin with, to teach you all the tips and tricks an Auror might need in their arsenal, you picking them all up as if it was as easy as breathing, to the point that Dina grew complacent.

She’d heard tales of your exploits during your fifth year, of course, and fought beside you during the Battle for the Repository. She was confident that you could handle anything thrown at you, and you impressed her over and over and over. But all it took was one tiny misstep, one foot wrong, and all her Ministry training and the reason behind it was thrown into sharp relief.

The troll was supposed to be an easy dispatch. You’d defeated one when you were brand new to magic, after all. Dina had taught you an advanced form of confringo, or at least, she’d taught you the theory. It was a powerful spell, a short step below feindfyre, and she was eager to see it in practice. But the troll had flung its club just as you began the incantation, and everything went wrong. You were distracted as it flew towards Dina, and you lost control of the spell.

The resulting inferno was too much for mere aguamenti, and there was nothing Dina could do but wait for the flames to die down, listening to you scream as you blundered about in the middle of the fire, unable to find a way out. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of you was a charred skeleton, your clawed hand leaving sooty streaks on her skin as she took it, hoping that this was some kind of nightmare, some kind of illusion or hallucination, anything but brutal, cold reality.

There was an investigation, of course. Why was a seventh-year student out fighting trolls? Why was this student doing so under the instruction of a faculty member that should have known better? Why had this professor allowed things to get so out of control?

Dina avoided Azkaban for her neglect by a narrow margin, but she had to give up her teaching post. She passed a little over a year later, having drunk herself to death, unable to cope with the guilt.

Professor Ronen

Abraham Ronen had always had such a love of fun and games, determined to make each of his classes a joy for his students. Yes, he recycled ideas through the terms, a large timetable in his office holding large lists of games he could incorporate that was appropriate for each year of Charms classes. But even so, after several years in his position, he found these games began to grow repetitive, and he wanted to liven things up.

That’s where you came in. Your ingenuity was famous throughout Hogwarts for a reason, and so he called on you one day after class, requesting your assistance in thinking up new games to play. He gave you a list of the spells he was to teach his seventh-year students, promising to waive your homework for a month if you helped out. You took to the task like a kappa to water, assailing Abraham with a variety of ‘games’ that would help the other students learn. The problem was, most of your games involved far too much risk for his liking, including trying to steal a dragon egg. Despite your protestations that you knew where to find one, Abraham wasn’t having it. But he’d promised, and you’d promised, and a deal was a deal.

So extreme were your ideas that when you proposed the still dangerous but comparatively tame idea of delayed-action bombarda combined with glacius, Abraham thought the idea of students running through a booby-trapped field, freezing the latent explosive spells, was a positively marvellous idea.

The students were less keen. They, unexposed to your particular brand of fun, saw the folly in such a practice. But you, determined that everyone should have fun, decided to be the first across the field. Abraham realised far too late just how foolish this game was, and had barely raised his wand as you danced across the minefield before disaster struck, and you were blown apart.

He tried his best to gather the pieces of you that rained down. A severed foot here, a shattered forearm there, holding his robes like an apron and gathering you up. It was futile, of course, for once a witch or wizard’s head is detached from their body, even the very best healers only have a few seconds to make it right.

He could never get that image out of his mind. One moment you were smiling, laughing, joking, teasing the others for their hesitancy, and the next you were in bits, everything that you were tumbling from the sky in slow motion. Every student in that class was scarred for life, set to fail their Charms NEWTs, fifty promising careers suddenly thrown down the toilet. Abraham resigned in shame, and did not go home to his wife. He wandered until he became lost, and lost himself until he found a cliff. Only by shattering himself on the rocks below could he find some form of atonement for his sins.

Professor Sharp

Aesop Sharp had always preferred to be somewhat gruff and stern. It kept his pupils in line, and his firm but fair approach ensured that everyone that took his classes passed with good marks, even if they had a tendency to blow things up, a practice he’d secretly taken to calling “doing a Garreth.” You, on the other hand, slipped past his guard. Maybe it was your incredible aptitude for offensive and defensive magic, or perhaps it was your endearing wit and charm. It could have been your happy-go-lucky nature, your ability to smile no matter how dire things seemed to be, always poking fun at yourself before anyone else. He found himself growing fond of you, thinking of you as some kind of wayward nibling.

He still had to give you detentions on occasion, of course, because even you couldn’t cheek the Potions Master and get away with it, no matter how well-intentioned your words had been. He found such hours to be more of a delight than a chore, happy to talk to you about anything and everything, even laughing a little as you revealed some of the mischief you’d gotten up to, things he’d normally give more detentions for.

One evening in the dungeons, you were cheerfully scrubbing out the cauldrons, and you asked him about is days as an Auror. You told him about an Ashwinder camp you’d caught wind of, and how you wished you could eradicate them. Aesop knew he should report it to Officer Singer and keep you out of it, but hell, he’d seen you fight, and there was something in him that yearned for that spark of excitement that came with defeating his enemies. He suggested travelling with you to wipe them out, considering it worth at least three detentions. You joked that this meant you had two free passes to be cheeky in class, and he told you not to push your luck.

If only he’d known. If only he’d taken a moment to think. If only he’d listened to his Auror instincts that told him this was a bad idea.

You’d both crept up on the camp, wands at the ready. There weren’t many of them, but enough to pose a bit of a challenge. Aesop had every confidence in you, he knew your skills after all, but unfortunately, the Ashwinders did as well. The moment they saw you, they didn’t bother with their typical hexes. They knew enough about you to know they couldn’t waste a second if they wanted to live. Three Killing Curses were sent your way, and one found its mark.

Aesop thought he knew loss when his partner was killed in Scarborough, but this was something else. Watching the light go out of your eyes, the ghost of your last, confident smile on your face, broke him like nothing had broken him before. He didn’t even try to resist when the Ashwinders took him, snatching his wand and throwing him in a cage along with the kneazles they’d poached. He couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind, your still body lying amid the debris of the Forbidden Forest, already ignored and forgotten by your foes, left for whatever scavengers crept through the night to feast. He refused food and water as he was dragged from one end of the country to the other, kept prisoner by those that had killed you. It took weeks to kill him, but one morning, lying on the floor of that cold, hard cage, he just didn’t wake up.

Professor Black

Phineus Nigellus Black preferred to let the students of Hogwarts think he was a cold-hearted, pompous bastard. It was much easier to work this way, easier to make the tough decisions a Headmaster of Hogwarts needed to make. Budget cuts, cancelling quidditch, extending exam season and banning Hogsmeade visits to ensure student safety was easier to weather if his heart was already hardened to the complaints and cries of woe, the bitter mutters, the whispered insults, the playground songs made up to poke fun at him. Yes, it hurt, but he was better than that. Stronger. Prouder. He had a job to do, after all, and Merlin only knew the previous Headmaster had left a hellish mess for him to set right. He had to be hard to be kind. He preferred not to pay attention to those around him, erecting a hard wall around his heart.

You, however… you were different. He heard about what you did in your fifth year, and though he found it hard to believe at first, he paid a bit more attention to you as time went by, and found the tales of your prowess were, if anything, undersold. Phineas made an effort in your final year to take you under his wing, seeing a potential candidate for the position of Minister for Magic in your future. He wanted to teach you the finer points of politics and bootlicking, introduce you to the right people, like the Gaunts, the Blacks, the Malfoys and more to give you the boost you needed to clamber up that slippery ladder. The only gifts he knew how to give.

You were resistant, of course. What kind of firecracker would you be if you weren’t? Phineas relished the challenge, demanding more and more of your free time until you began to understand just what kind of privileges came along with knowing the right people and scratching the right backs. Ominis knew it and used it to his advantage perhaps less than he should have done, but this seemed to tip the scales in Phineas' favour, and you finally began to listen and learn from his wise tutelage. He found himself swelling with pride as you whipped about your newfound allegiances, terrifying students and teachers alike, reining you in when you frightened Hobhouse so much he wet himself, his scolding gentle and warm. He might have had five children, but you showed promise.

Unfortunately, even the shrewd and clever Phineas couldn’t have foreseen the simple dangers of existing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He’d taken you to the trophy room, waxing lyrical about the famous witches and wizards that had come through Hogwarts, pointing out their accolades with relish, his hand on your shoulder, a rare and affectionate gesture of genuine pride. He told you that you could achieve just as much, perhaps more, if you applied all your skills and knowledge in the right ways. He even smiled at you, and his eyes were warm.

You asked to see a particularly bright medal on a high shelf, and Phineas, taking a leaf out of your muggleborn book, decided to give the other life a try, just for once. If a muggleborn could be as impressive as you, perhaps he didn’t have to use magic for everything. He tried to reach the medal by hand, even climbing on the shelf to do so, smiling as it made you laugh. He climbed down, medal in hands, his brow furrowing as your face grew ashen. The next moment, you had barrelled into him, throwing him out of the way of the falling shelf.

By the time he picked himself up, scolding you for your behaviour, it was too late. The falling shelves and shattered glass had crushed you, slashing your neck. By the time Phineas realised you weren’t just pratting about like you usually did, you’d bled out, your skin pale, your eyes wide and unseeing. Phineas sat on the floor beside your corpse, holding your fingers closed over the medal that read:

Most Impressive Display of Honour.

Professor Garlick

Mirabel Garlick had endured her share of enamoured students, villagers, and even fellow professors in her time. She dealt with it all with the grace and decorum that was expected of such a sunny personality, treating all and sundry with the same level of ardent attention and big, bright smiles. She had a soft spot for you though, someone who appreciated magical plants for the marvels they were. She didn’t mind when you stayed after class to quiz her on the less known properties of pufferpods or the right way to tamp down earth around a mandrake to ensure maximum comfort. She’d heard all about your little adventure to see the giant venomous tentacula, and had been curious about your knowledge ever since.

She was more than happy to help you grow your plants bigger and better than what the school board advised. She even cleared out Greenhouse Four for your personal use, encouraging you to grow things most students would only ever see if they were extremely unlucky. But she trusted you. She believed you knew what you were doing, swept up by your enthusiasm, tempted by her own curiosity to see just how far you could push your skills.

So it was that the pair of you ended up breeding a new kind of Devil’s Snare, one that was resistant to light and heat. It took time, and though you both occasionally wondered what the purpose of such a plant would be, you were too excited by the prospect of your experiments bearing fruit to worry about consequences. Mirabel should have known better. The only defence against a Devil’s Snare is light and heat, and both of you pushed away thoughts of protection against such a thing. It seemed playful, intelligent, happy.

It was early on a Saturday morning when Mirabel decided to look in on Greenhouse Four. It was only by chance that she had decided to do so, and she would spend the rest of her life wishing she had been five minutes sooner. She saw the Devil’s snare distract you with dancing tendrils as it had so many times before, only this time, you were too close. It wrapped you up faster than a spider wraps a fly, crushing the life from you. No matter how many incendios she cast, no matter how much she shouted and beat at it, even conjuring a torch to hold against the vines, all it did was hurt you more as it crushed the life from you, each snap of your ribs loud above your gasping breaths, the crunch of your spine grinding in her ears, the blood from your nose splattering on the floor as your lungs punctured, your eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even still you fought to draw breath until there was no more room in your chest.

Mirabel had never felt so helpless. She sank to her knees, waiting as the Devil’s Snare took you into its core to feed upon your corpse. She didn’t resist when the vines caressed her face, then wrapped around her throat, her wand lying forgotten on the floor of Greenhouse Four.

Professor Fig

Eleazar Fig had always had a soft spot for you. He’d watched you grow from a novice to a master in the space of a year, popular and clever, beloved by your peers and professors alike. He always made sure to make time for you in his office, sharing a cup of tea as you discussed your past adventures, gossiped about the students, or just had a jolly good chinwag. You both shared a love of adventure, and made time at least once a month to get up to mischief, whether it was investigating old ruins, clearing out mongrel dens, or just running the occasional errand for those in need. You delighted in having your mentor along for the ride, and he adored helping you where he could.

Unfortunately for you, your exploits over the years made you enemies. Though you helped a good many people and made plenty of friends, there were those that were hard done by when you stole from them or caused them trouble on behalf of someone else. Eleazar knew this, and made sure to continually warn you to watch your back, clucking like a mother hen. Perhaps he warned you too much, his words of caution becoming background noise as you continually avoided retribution for your misdeeds. Eleazar did his best to keep you safe all the same, ardently researching your enemies and eliminating plots before they came to fruition.

But after almost a year of no schemes against you, he dared to relax. He invited you out to lunch at Steepley and Sons, intending to enjoy a quiet cup of tea, some nice sandwiches, and perhaps even a slice of cake, his treat, of course. He wanted to catch up properly, to make sure you were happy, on top of your homework, getting on with your friends. You wanted to know how he was coping after Miriam’s passing, if he was back on the scene, how his work as a teacher was going, and can he please get you out of detention with Professor Sharp?

Neither of you expected after all this time there were still those that held a grudge. The young wizard helping Mrs Steepley was actually an Ashwinder, and they poisoned your cup of tea. It took a moment to take effect, but once it did, the only way to save you was locked away in Hogwarts Castle. Even accio couldn’t have got the antidote to you in time.

Eleazar watched as your face went ashen, seemingly sinking in on itself as you clawed at your throat. He caught you as you listed sideways, his eyes locked on yours, trying to comfort you, soothe you as you struggled to draw breath, not even a pin able to pass through the tightness of your throat. Your nails left bloody furrows on your neck, your feet kicking feebly even as someone ran for J Pippin’s, hoping he’d be able to help. Eleazar knew better. He just held you as your body jerked, the last of your life sliding through his fingers as he tried oh so hard to hold on to it, begging you silently to just hold on a little longer. You were all he had, the last spark of joy in his cold, dark life. Once you were gone, there was nothing left for him. A swift unforgivable curse delivered to his temple as he lay in his chamber was enough to ensure he could see you and Miriam again.

witchdoctorpirate ~💚

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

What If Y/N is like Courage the cowardly dog?

The things i do for Love- Courage the Cowardly dog

You see their was an old journey to the west legend, called the Screaming Earthquake, Who screams of emotional Distress has shook both the heavens and all of China. And everybody is about to find out, that the earthquake was you.

(Lmk Wukong) He causes you so much stress, but you love him so much. You would do anything for him even put yourself in danger and with how reckless he is you gonna have too. The final straw was when he got possessed by lady bone demon and hurting everyone, we couldn't handle this, as we watch him and Macaque fight. MK immediately noticed your despair and he yelled for everyone to cover their ears.

Finally you with your power lungs let out a ground breaking scream that shook the battlefield and broke the ground below you. Making everyone cover their ears, that's right even lady bone demon not to mention your scream was so intense it shook her control right out of Wukong's head as Macaque fought him. Which shocked everyone and snapped Wukong out of it and joined in on the final fight, and at the end you were able to calm down as Wukong hugged and kisses.

(NR Wukong) oh god he's gonna make you old way before your time, but you found yourself still caring about him. Wukong would run around and act quite wildly and you were always scared and nervous for him, as an act of love and against your better judgment. Things got even more complicated when Wukong met Li who is apparently the new recarnation of Nezha another celestial you would often worry about personally. With the training and making of armor You would often act as the safety measure to the whole training sessions Always Bringing a first aid kit or a fire extinguisher, then came the issues with the dragon gang which caused you to stress over your husband and Li and Su Whom you considered your children at this point. The final straw was when you learned that your husband was kidnapped and your earth shattering scream brought down the dragon lair and cracked the area around you during your nervous breakdown. In the end it took Li, Su and Wukong to finally calm you down and get you out of your Anxiety attack.

(MR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh man I don't know what to say. He's gets reckless and runs into danger and conflict all the time. Between your screams of terror and his screams of rage it's loud and crazy. Then you fide yourself running into danger to become you got so worried about him, especially between the fight with the demon king. Between protecting fruity and worrying about your excessively bleeding husband you couldn't handle it. Before anyone knew it you had fruity under you when you let out a scream that shook the battlefield and broke the ground below you. A earthquake broke out on the battlefield as the demon king's army were either crushed or collapse into the broken environment shaking the realm to its very core. At the end of it all Wukong and Fruity was able to calm you down and the pilgrims learned never to scare or stress you ever.

(HIB Wukong) You love your little family more then anything and would do anything for them especially your husband. You were heavily worried about him especially with what happened in the celestial war which you told him to reconsider about but no, he went to fight and failed and now he didn't come home for over 500 years so you were relatively frustrated with him. You put a side your irritation for him when you noticed that he came home with a Little boy and a baby girl, now you loved children and went to tend to them right away but you don't miss pigsy all that much though. He was annoying and clumsy but still a kind person? Well back to the situation at hand you learned that a Emo Demon name Hun Dun are after the children and immediately you because support for them, and we ready to protect the children when needed. Though at the end you both thought you lost Luier and while your husband got his powers back your screams of greif and terror broke though Hun Dun's army and Wukong had finished them off afterwards you had found your children and returned to Wukong cuddling him. Letting him know that you finally forgive him after all these years.

(Netflix Wukong) He's also someone who's causes you stress, but not like Lmk and Nezha would. The issue is he doesn't like to listen at all you warn him of obvious danger ahead in his journey, but with his what's the worse that can happen looking ass it never works out. Then came the time he got in trouble with the dragon king and soon the heavens, all because he stole a staff from them. Lin had tried to warn him along with you with the doofus it's in one ear and out the other and when the final battle happened you couldn't handle it anymore and well. Everyone got to see just how powerful your lungs and thoat actually was when you broke the sound barrier making even the people of the heavens cover their ears, as your screams gave Wukong the advantage to defeat the dragon king and at the end he gave you a cup of tea to calm your nerves and throat as you went under the mountain together.

(BMW Wukong) Another monkey who causes you a large amount of stress, but your love for him keeps you around him. He's mad reckless and quite Barbaric and the world's biggest instigator, so the fact that you haven't had a stroke is a miracle in of itself. What Wukong wasn't being an reckless a**hole and causing problems, he's up there taunting and giving the finger to heaven and granted you could careless for those guys but you still worried over your husband and what he was gonna do. Then came the fight with that rat bastard Erlang as you grew angry and stressed as you watched your husband fight and grew anxious when the fight became intense. You told your husband to fall back,but it wasn't working out, so you did the next best thing, SCREAM!!!! Wukong never liked when you would scream as you would break a lot of glass back at flower fruit mountain Which would make him stop what he's doing quite to tend to you. He still works because now he's snuggling you while sending clones to fight Erlang.

(Destined one) OH THANK GOD, he's the calmest and actually the most responsible of the monkeys. So imagine his shock when he finds out that his wife with a very powerful pair of lungs can break the sound barrier with ease. Now the destined one would never stress you out on purpose but, being a monkey and having endless enemies well some things just can be avoided you know. Like for example a group of demons who attacked at your camp and the destined one ran to fight him and that made you a bit irrational, then came the Fight with Erlang and granted the destined one finally whooped him, but you we frightened for him still. Then came the last straw with that shell he was made to fight and watching him and bodied out their you couldn't take it and well, Let's just say not only did the shell shattered into pieces, But the destined one Now had to deal with Bleeding ears.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😱

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

CH.30 (Good Medicine)

I kind of assumed that things would get worse from here...

...yeah, there's no 'but' to that. Getting Falin back so quick was too good to be true.

Aren't those the ghosts Falin talked to? They could be friendly.

"ee gads! a hairless little man!" I'd be frightened too if Chillchuck was suddenly behind a door I'd just opened.

Chillchuck, buddy, less than 24 hours ago you threw a knife directly into a dragon's eye. You can take care of some worgs, right?

Senshi's a card carrying member of the smells-okay-to-me-chief club.

Orcs be like 'oh, dragon's gone? Hm. Curious' and then just carry on. Wouldn't you be worried that something took out the dragon? Could be even more dangerous than the dragon itself.

I feel like at this point Falin might be just that.

MOUTH TO MOUTH RESUSCITATION!

Marcille, I don't think you have a lot of options.

......just realized those moose antlers are holding up her rack. Talk about a pushup bra. Damn. Respect.

Wait go back to that "create monsters to do their bidding" thing again. Was that the little mini dragons or does that include larger monsters like the dragon itself?!

OR something that was IN the dragon, controlling its actions and make it act irrationally? Is that why the Sorcerer wasn't surprised to see Falin as a separate thing outside the dragon? Was the assumption that whatever THING it was had escaped and become Falin?

And for all we know... it kinda had. It had merged with her spirit....

Or maybe I'm way off.

Congrats on the larger story plot! :D You're now in even more danger! Hoorah!

Chillchuck, a normal person would just go 'I'm leaving, pay me'. You're giving yourself away, worrying for them.

I can't hate him for the reasoning here. The deeper you go, the less likely you are to be found. The only person who cares enough about Marcille and Laios and Chillchuck to find their bodies are.... each other. So if they're dead here, they're likely dead-dead.

I want to nestle into her bosom and live there as a little creature.

Moreso than when she was literally in the gullet of a red dragon?! Come on, be reasonable. At least she's alive now. And remembers who she is.

Ooooh friendly ghosts. Makes sense why Falin was so chill about them.

All the more reason to believe there's something to be done!

Love the doggo yawning behind Chillchuck.

He's a coward, but being afraid isn't necessarily a sign of weakness. It's a sign that you realize how dangerous a situation is. Cowardice isn't stupidity, no more than ignorance of danger is bravery.. I think the orc leader is maybe realizing he's not doing it for completely selfish reasons. Mad respect to her though.

It WAS Falin, wasn't it? It wasn't as if it was a thing pretending to be her. She was there, and she was revived successfully, and then the soul confusion thing happened.

......damn. What a small holiday they got, before the next horrible thing happened...

hey, Marcille is not dumb! She's got loads of braincells! they're just all focused on doing evil stuff and being gay.

🎯

That's right! It's just like you, Chillchuck!

Was that... there before?

Oh, okay, no, it was. Hm.......

This stupid man is about to full a Falin and jump out a window to go look for her, isn't he.

Gods, this sucks for him so much. For all of them. Because they.... they WERE successful! They rescued Falin! They brought her back from the head! They DID that!

But now, instead of getting the reward of it, she's just gone. Is it better, because she's alive?

Or worse, because the threat is even more nebulous?

If they all died, would it be worth it?

who's the coward...? he's ready to go back.

For Falin, they went down there. They risked themselves.

For them, after talking to him only a bit, the orc leader went from 'hey, nice snack for my dog' to 'we're helping you get that girl back'.

It's about the CONNECTION!!! IT'S ABOUT HELPING EACH OTHER AFTER LEARNING TO UNDERSTAND ONE ANOTHER!!!

[draconscious]

Red has always been a welcome font of information for the reclusive dragon tamer, and Clair hangs on to every word as unfamiliar names and old locales are signed into existence. Even when Rocket stormed the Radio Tower all those years ago, she--and the entirety of Blackthorn--had remained stubbornly uninvolved in the ensuing counterblow, too self-absorbed in their traditionalist ways. In these trying times, the city must protect itself and its dragons above all else...

Clair was younger then, too young and temperamental to be an effective leader, so she begrudgingly sat on her hands as the Elders demanded that Blackthorn steer clear of everything involving the unfolding crisis. Whitney's panicked Pokegear calls went unanswered (and to this day, Clair doesn't know how Goldenrod's peppy leader managed to forgive her for that forced desertion. Perhaps they were all growing up.)

But, what goes around comes around, and now Rocket appears to be back. Clair had caught a few unfortunate stragglers skittering across Blackthorn's mountain range while on patrol, and knew some were involved with the Game Corner...but she never knew the true extent of their reanimated operation until now. It's becoming clear that Rocket has become quite hydra-esque: cut one head off, and three more appear, moving in the shadows and sowing chaos across regional lines.

And this time around, Clair is determined to do something. Clan Elders be damned, the future of a stable Dratini line is at stake...and a weary Red can't shoulder this all by himself. Gods, just look at him.

"I've been catching Rocket agents more frequently on my patrols of the mountain range, though I assumed they were just simple poachers serving nobody in particular. I can interrogate future captures to get more information on whatever they're doing," she volunteers, glancing towards the infected Dragonair again. "Gold and I have talked about getting Whitney to keep a closer eye on the Game Corner as well. We should be able to stop the direct exchange of Dratini at the prize counters, at the very least. To prevent a further spread."

Clair pauses at Red's mention of Sabrina. She's familiar enough with the name, of course--but her only interaction with the intimidating Saffron Gym Leader was a long time ago: a terse introduction at the last inter-regional league meeting. As someone who had long harbored an innate (and narrow-minded) distrust of any psychic-user, Clair's initial wariness around Sabrina--perhaps the most renowned of them all--was amplified times a thousand. Even now, she finds herself bristling instinctively upon hearing of her Kanjoh colleague's actions. Yes, way to drive Neo Rocket out of Kanto...so they can raise hell in Johto instead. Great job.

Still, Clair's resolve is not shaken one bit. She's going to help, for the sake of the mistreated Dratini...and for Red. Even if the prideful leader has to rely on others for further explanations and assistance.

"...Until this Laurent provides new information on the parasite, I'll focus on finding Rocket's source and eliminating their activity where I can," she pledges, her expression hard, her voice firm and confident. "And you..."

Clair pauses, expression softening for just a moment as concern flits across her gaze. Red looks like he's actively going through hell, propped up precariously in the lab chair as Dragonair groans restlessly, mirroring the aura of malaise. Sick.

"...You need to take some time for yourself, and just rest. Promise me you will," she presses, shaking her head. "The amount of legwork that you've done already...it's more than enough for now. I can shoulder this situation while you recover, at least."

[Yeah. It's more common in Hoenn than here.]

A branched evolution isn't an unheard of concept, but it would be the first one he had heard of in the dratini line. The fragile monsters were capricious. They only recently had been beaten pretty viciously down as a species with the violent poaching.

[I don't know. I called a unovan professor of parasitology about it and she can come in, in a month to set up a residency with Dr. Ohkido. Laurent. Worked with her before on Wailmer and she knows her stuff. Bringing her in to hopefully either confirm or deny that causation or correlation.

It's the only one doing this with parasites. Good chance anybody with a sick Dratini from the Game Corner- if the dragon is still alive, they still have those parasites.]

And a sample size of one is hardly a sample size. It brings it back to Neo Rocket.

[Not a lot. What I do know is pretty bad. Got an admin leading them and they're moving more like a cult than a gang of petty thieves. Got their hands on Shadowing Tech. Got their hands on snag machines with Silph's Master Balls. Found a way to Berserk people. Nobody's reported it yet because I've been telling only a few people at a time. Sabrina ran them out of Kanto completely. No idea where they are now.]

He pinches the bridge of his nose in a pause, while Dragonair complains a little more loudly in his tank.

[Sabrina's hunting them. I am too. So is Gold. Everyone who was involved is looking. Nobody can figure out where they went.]

[becauseimanicequeen]

Why in the world would you like toxic characters? Why are you so proud of that? What is it even to be proud of? What's wrong with you?

Well, my dear Anon. If you only knew how many times I've asked myself those very same questions…

And the answers always come down to: It’s fiction.

And even though fiction is a vital part of life (just like any other art form) and you can learn a lot from it (you have no idea how many toxic people I’ve been able to avoid, before they even found out my name, thanks to my love for toxic characters and seeing their red flags), fiction is also just fiction.

The characters aren’t real, even though they can seem like it. Just because I love a character that's toxic as fuck doesn't mean I would condone real people who behave that way.

Also, I’m not hurting anyone with my obsession with toxic characters. It’s not like I'm forcing anyone to think like me (and for the love of all things holy, don't do that!).

Besides having a healthy obsession with the toxic characters I love, I’m not very emotional (for lack of a better word) about what I watch. I can be intrigued by toxic characters without either excusing their behavior and actions or hating them (because there’s enough hate in the world for me to do that shit). I can watch taboo topics and other shit that most people find triggering and not be triggered (even though I see the taboo topics for what they are). I can watch problematic stuff and see beyond it to what’s really being said (even though I see the problematic stuff for what it is).

But that’s just me. And I would never force my perspectives on anyone else because I know the majority isn’t like me (which is a good thing, btw).

So, if you don’t vibe with my shit, block me. I don’t mind.

Trust me. I’ll survive. You’ll survive. The world won’t fall apart. We’ll both be okay. Just block me.

Because I will keep loving my favorite toxic fatherfuckers. I won't excuse their behavior and actions. But I will love them.

And the only one who can stop me is ME. But I don’t want to because I love all the shades of toxic bitches and their red flags.

Like Boston from Only Friends.

And Todd from Not Me.

And Chalothon from The Sign.

And Ray from Only Friends.

And So from House of Stars.

And Yai from Big Dragon.

And Way from Pit Babe.

And Boeing from Only Friends.

And let's not forget Vegas from KinnPorsche!

And Yoden Ryoji from Dangerous Drugs of Sex.

And Yong Jie from HIStory 4: Close to You.

And Rio from The Novelist.

And Ritsu from To the End of the World With You.

And definitely Ming from My Stand-In!

I love them all because I have issues. But so do all of them, which is precisely why I love them.

Thank you for your ask.