#I think it's because he was one of two characters with those eyes

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 1

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: Well, well, well, if it isn't another bad decision.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

The spectrum of city lights gleam through the window casting a soft glow over the lofty condo. Spacious and pristine, everything in exactly its place, even the shadows seem to assemble in orderly fashion along the pale wall. A fine contrast to your chaotic existence on the peripheral.  

You sit, staring down the treacherous drop. A single pane between you and the end. Your phone dims as it rests against the thumb grip, wires still woven from the port into the palm sized box. You can find anything on the dark web if you go deep enough. 

The alarm was easy enough to override with the device, you still feel a sliver of adrenaline. How your heart beats thunderously as you watch the screen race through columns of numbers. You expect a blaring siren, instead the door clicks and a low beep grants your entry. 

It's nothing bad. Not really. You’re tired of watching, of waiting, for what? You're not sure. It’s not as if you want him to notice you, you do your best to make sure he doesn't. Maybe one day when you're ready. Whatever that means. 

You shut the lights off once you get the photos, each room from every angle. So you have a reference to make sure everything's where it belongs when you go. Unlike you. 

You don’t belong here. Or anywhere. So you have no issue crossing those lines, because no matter where you step, you’re out of place. 

If anyone knew, they might think you've done this before. You’ve dreamed of it. Maybe, a bit too often. 

It's the online boards that make you so thorough, checking things you never even considered. Of course, those neckbeards are looking to scare some skinny blonde they don't have a chance with. You don't want to scare Steve, you just want to know him, if even from a distance. 

You always just watch. Is that so bad? You don't get in his way, you don't try anything, you just follow. 

Well, it's about time you came inside. You don't get much of a view from the outside. The reflection of the other buildings tend to make the distance further. A whole year and you don't know why you’ve waited so long. It’s not like he’ll know. 

You stand up and unplug your phone, turning on the flashlight as you point it ahead if you. You stop to admire the pictures framed and hung of him and his comrades, both old and new, dead and alive. You continue down the hall, back to the bedroom and peer around. 

You spread out on the bed. You can smell him, his sweat and the soap he uses. You know from his receipts. From skulking around behind him at the grocery stores you can’t afford to shop at.  

You close your eyes and imagine he's there with you. Watching you too. The two of you, peaceful, comfortable, like you've never been with anyone in your life. An indolent complicity. 

It’s lies. You know that’s not how it goes. If he knew about you, he’d be just as repulsed as any other guy. And you’re not the type for the sappy shit. You don’t want love, you just want a thrill. 

You put the phone down, the light glowing on the other side of your eyelids as it shines on the ceiling. You feel along your dark jeans and slide your fingers under your fly. You sigh as you feel yourself getting wet.  

You flick your clit and moan. You say his name and do it again, a steady motion as you wish he was there, hand down your pants as he fucks you with his fingers, reading a book as if he isn't rock hard over it. It must be extraordinary to have someone else touching you. It’s getting boring, just you. 

You cum quickly, surprised as usually you need your toys. More reliable than any man, you scoff and free your hands from the denim. 

You sit up slowly and wipe your cum on his pillow. Maybe he'll smell it, will he know what it is? Would he like it? 

You get up and stretch. You take your phone and check the time. You should go. He'll be home soon, you know he met his pal for drinks at seven. Funny, you were under the impression beer didn't affect enhanced beings. 

You go back to the living room and pack up. You plug in the cipher once more and head for the door. You re-arm the alarm and carry on down the hall. 

You stop at the elevator and wait. It opens and you suppress your surprise. Well, you’re not that shocked as his timing is always precise. Not to mention, he lives here. Steve Rogers hesitates before he gets off the elevator, blanching as he sees you.  

“Sorry,” he smiles at you. 

It’s not a real smile. It’s just his surprise. It’s courtesy. Steve fucking Rogers is high and above you. 

“It’s fine,” you say snidely as you stare at him dully. 

He only thinks to get off when his companion, Bucky Barnes, does first. You wait for them to pass you, the second man meeting your eyes as he passes. You see a spark of curiosity in his eye but it quickly dies. You’re not that interesting, especially at first glance. You rely on that. 

You step onto the elevator, nearly caught in the doors as you do. You turn to watch them walk down the hallway. They have no idea, you're just another faceless New Yorker. 

📷

It's weird, you think. Anyone else would be jealous to see the scene. They would crumple at the burning envy in their gut but you feel something much more intense. You're fucking horny. 

Your perch on the roof of the building a block from Steve's is bitter and blustery. You have the scope set up, cell phone in the holder, to align the lens. The red dot flashes to show that it's recording. 

You adjust the angle and zoom in on the screen. The set-up is simple enough once it's set up, if the app isn't a bit tedious. You take another drink from your thermos and huddle beneath your hoodie. 

You wish you could hear it. The slapping of flesh, the groans in his constricted throat, even the woman's airy breaths as she grips the back of the couch, teeth bared as Steve ruts from behind. America's golden boy getting his kicks from some bimbo he met down at the bar. Again. 

You want to be in her place. Or even just a bit closer. If it was you, it’d be a lot less predictable. He’ll finish, slap her ass, and send her off.  

You yawn as he grabs onto her shoulders, pulling her back gruffly as he rams into her hard. The aggression is what surprises. Steve Rogers is all smiles and sweet words for the cameras he knows are there, but behind closed doors, he’s brutal. The woman’s face contorts as the pain wracks her body.  

She doesn’t stop, lets him use her. Just like you would. If you even had a chance in hell, you’d lick his cum off the shield. Fuck, if he wasn’t obsessed with those barbie dolls, he might actually try something new. 

You don't hate her, don't feel an ounce of anger. She's doing you a favour, putting on a show just for you. An image you’ll never forget, that you’ll cherish on lonely nights. 

You shiver as heat nestles in your core. Your hand falls to your jeans, lingering just beneath your heavy parka. It’s too cold to do that now. You retract your arm and sigh. When you get home you’ll have to rewatch it with your favourite toy. 

Before your mind wanders too far, there’s a metal click and the loud clang of the bar across the other side of the door. Shit. You quickly grab your phone and collapse the tripod. You take down the lens and shove it all into the duffel, twisting the lid of your thermos tight and tossing it in before scooping up the unzipped bag. 

Footsteps scuff across the concrete roof as you scurry behind one of the wide chimneys and lean against the cinder block. You hold your breath as a man calls out, “hello?” he paces around, “someone out here?” 

Fuck! You put your head back. You won’t be coming back here again. It took you weeks to find the place and get the right angle, a good distance to keep from alerting Steve but not too far either. 

A flashlight casts a yellow light back and forth but doesn’t come close to you as you stay still. The man grunts and grumbles as his soles pad away and the door slams heavily. You wonder what gave you away. You disarmed the alarm on the door before you came up and no one passed you on the stairs. 

Maybe just a regular sweep by the building. You shrug and check the bag before zipping it up. You wait ten more minutes before going to the door and picking the lock. You assure yourself as you descend, you got more than enough to tide you over at least a couple weeks. 

📷

The cafe is busy enough to compound your insignificance. You’re hard to notice on a good day. A hoodie, jeans, just another body in the overcrowded city. You sit with a bottle of water and cookie you won’t eat, pretending to read as others are more obvious in their observation. 

Steve Rogers sits by the window, as if he wants to be seen, chatting over a steaming mug with the stalwart Bucky Barnes. Their conversation seems to frustrate the latter as several patrons interrupt them, asking for a picture or autograph to accompany their lattes and creamy frappucinos. As Steve acquiesces, Bucky leans back and crosses his arms, scowling as he refuses to engage. 

You grin. You kind of get the dude. You hate people, hate the city and the pedants looking for their fifteen minutes or living the delusion that their New York adventure is destined for greatness. You glance back at the page but your eyes don’t focus on the words. 

It’s why you can’t be with Steve. Why you don’t want to be. You just want to watch. You don’t like being noticed. Hate the idea of being watched. You’re not a part of the show, you like being just another faceless figure in the audience. 

Your eyes flick back up. Steve is back to leaning over his cup, an Americano, how fitting. His large hand punctuates whatever point he’s making as you admire the vein in his neck, just above his collar. 

You’re startled as Bucky rests his chin in his hand and you meet his gaze. You don’t react and hide behind the book again. Maybe a bit too obvious. 

You pretend to read for a few minutes then reach for your phone, checking the time. You should leave first. You close the book without marking the page and take your water and cookie and put it in your bag, the patched messenger showing its years. 

It rests against your hip as you stroll out, ignoring the super soldiers until you’re outside. You peek back as you pass the window and Bucky squints at you. What the fuck is his problem? You tuck your head down and continue down the sidewalk. You’ll have to be careful about him. 

📷

You close your journal and tuck it under your mattress. The bed takes up much of your bachelor apartment. You don’t mind the lack of space, it’s just you. It’s preferable to your previous roommates who assured you cohabitation is little more than a form of torture. 

You climb off the twin mattress and stretch as you go to the corner which constitutes your kitchen; a microwave above a compact stove, a fridge that looks straight out of the 60s, and a foot long countertop under a single cupboard. Not much but you often forget to eat as your mind overshadows any physical needs. 

You tear open a package of ramen and add water, shoving it in the nuke as you turn to lean against the counter. Your tall dresser holds most of your possessions, clothes, the pictures, your equipment, and a few toys. Nothing special, just like you. 

The microwave beeps and you put the bowl on the counter. You grab your phone and return, eating at the kitchenette as you slouch to keep from dribbling. You scroll through your phone, several alerts for Steve Rogers in the news. 

‘Cap’s UN Mission: Can he restore America’s repute on the international stage?’ You browse the article and a smile slowly forms as you forget your food and stand, lifting the phone as you search for more.  

The media really is dangerous, you muse. There are exact dates for the conference and Cap’s appearances. That means his place will be empty. It means you’ll be living it up, at least for a few days. 

📷

It’s been more than a month since your first visit to Steve’s apartment. Nothing’s changed and you feel a little less restless there. You know he won’t be back anytime soon so there’s no rush to do much more than bask in the remnants of his presence. 

You can still smell him on the bed sheets and his dirty clothes are still in the hamper. You sort through them, feeling them, sniffing a few shirts. You push the basket back into the corner and search the drawers of his nightstand. Lube, some porn magazines, relics really, and some random odds and ends.  

You go out to the front room and lay on the couch, flicking on the television. The Smithsonian channel. Predictable. You leave it there and watch the hour-long program on clockmaking. Riveting. 

You don’t pay much attention as you stare at the ceiling and think about him. It was that couch where he fucked her. On her knees, clinging to the back as he let loose his strength, not a care for her. You haven’t seen her since. She must’ve expected something different; maybe to be doted on. Pathetic. 

Your hand wanders along the edge of the cushion. Your fingertips brush fabric in the crease of the cushions and you sit up as you pull out the lacy thong. You hold it up and stand, looking down as you hang them against your jeans as if you were wearing them. For him. 

You scoff and bunch them up, tossing them behind the couch. Yeah right. You’re not some leggy blonde, you’re just you. You’d look stupid in something like that. 

Men always looked past you, through you. It’s why you didn’t bother. High school was a farce; shoved into lockers or chased out of school dances. And college, just an extension of the crushing social norms and ridiculous expectations.  

You kissed one guy in your sophomore year but he was worse off than you. You never saw him again after he came in pants just from having your tongue on his. Why would you want some dweeb like that? You’d rather settle for being alone than some freak. 

You sigh as you cross your arms and flop back on the couch. You think too much. This is supposed to be fun, so why does it make you feel so… alone? 

Reality splinters as your heart lurches. Shit. You hear a key in the lock and the sharp turn of the mechanism. Shit! You stand and panic as the door opens, too stunned to react as you trip over the leg of the chair as you try to hide too late. You hit your knees and look up at the figure in the entryway. 

“What the fuck?” the deep voice cuts through you. “Who the fuck are you?” 

Bucky comes into the room and stops short. He tilts his head as you stand, putting your palms out defensively, “look, I was just leav–” 

He’s barreling towards you and you stumble back frantically. He grabs the front of your hoodie and takes you off your feet as he shakes you, like a rat in the gutter. You grasp his thick wrists as you gape at him, speechless. 

“I know you,” he says as recognition wrinkles in his forehead, “I knew you were up to something.” 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you say. 

“Me? I’m watering the plants,” he spits, “what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Please, I swear, I wasn’t going to do anything–” 

“Shut up!” he snaps and shoves you into the leather chair, looming over you as he clenches the front of your sweater. 

“Let me go and I’ll never come back,” you beg and round your eyes and make your voice higher, just like you’ve seen other women do. You always looked younger than your age. “Please–” 

He scoffs and shakes his head, “I said, shut up.” 

His tone keeps any further plea muted. He glares at you, nostrils flaring as his thoughts swirl in his deep blue irises. He unfurls his fingers and draws his hands away rigidly as he stands straight. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he warns as he combs his fingers through his hair. He watches you for a moment before he looks around and grumbles under his breath, “don’t have the fucking time for this.” 

[thelargefrye]

BECAUSE I'M HIM ... mature one - shot (21+) | PART I

pairing : supe!ateez x supe!villain!f!reader ( ft. supe!villain!sanhwa x supe!villain!f!reader )

genre : dark, mature, heroes and villains, demon slayer x mha inspired, angst

word count : 24k

warnings : language, a lot... a LOT of fight scenes 😮‍💨, death / murder, blood / body gore, suicide, choking, attempted murder, the government wouldn't do that to you - oh yes they would, mass killing (a whole island gets wiped out – not in detail and only mentioned), MAJOR character deaths, cannibalism (kind of), mention human sacrifice, any korean that appears might be inaccurate

smut warnings : unprotected sex, pain kink, wound... fingering (I CAN EXPLAIN), handjob

listen to the official soundtrack here

note : for topaz's @sanjoongie YOTV collab – had so much fun planning this and writing it, thank you for allowing me to be apart of this collab and i hope you enjoy it! please make sure to check out the other fics for this collab with the masterlist!

also thank you to @anyamaris for letting me word vomit this to you!

with the hero association struggling to take down the villain alliance, they and the government force death row villains to team up with some of the world's greatest heroes in order to hunt down and defeat them. you are one of those villains.

ACT I: THE FINAL SELECTION

maximum security prison – interrogation room – day

the briefing room was sterile and cold. not only that but filled with tension that it could be easily cut with a knife. the seven heroes in the room along with the two hero association agents stood in a line, waiting. their hero uniforms were sharp and pristine – like they had never experienced being in a fight before. some of them exchanged wary glances, waiting for their captain to speak up. 

some of the wary glances focus on said captain, hongjoong, as he lets out an annoyed sigh, arms crossed and a scowl on his face, “i still think this is a mistake. we don’t need some damn villains on our team.” 

“maybe we should hear the reasoning first,” jongho says calmly as he leans against the wall and gestures to the two agents who are whispering amongst themselves, “they must have a plan after all.” 

wooyoung let out an annoyed tsk at the youngest member’s words, “seriously? whose bright idea was it to bring in villains? we’re supposed to be heroes, not babysitters.” 

“or they’re just desperate,” yeosang sounds a little skeptical before he’s glancing at yunho, “yunho, you… you knew y/n, didn’t you? before you became a hero?” 

“yeah. we… we grew up together. went to school together too,” he answers, his body stiffening slightly at the mention of you and your… past together. 

“and you’re only bringing that up now? feels like a pretty important detail,” wooyoung says, looking at yunho was a raised eyebrow. he was suspicious of why yunho would exclude ever telling the team this information. 

the top hero looks at wooyoung, “it’s not relevant. that was years ago,” he says, defensively, but why? was he trying to defend himself or you? 

“not relevant?” hongjoong speaks up this time, “you sure about that? she turned into a villain, killed a bunch of people at vanguard, yunho. makes me wonder if you missed the warning signs back then.” 

yunho clenches his fist, eyes shooting a glare at his captain, but mingi steps in, “alright, that’s enough. no reason to randomly start pointing fingers.” 

wooyoung turns his head, “still doesn’t mean this is right. we shouldn’t be working with people who are on fucking death row of all things,” he says under his breath. 

“we don’t have to like it, but you know the villain alliance is escalating. if bringing in these three gives us an edge, we can’t afford to turn it down.” 

“of course you would be on the side of bringing the villains in, yeosang,” wooyoung says, eyes glaring at his friend, teammate, “just because they have dark powers like yours doesn’t mean they are like you.” yeosang’s ears burn a bright red as his eyes look down to the floor, avoiding the others uneasy glances.

the tension in the room hangs heavy, with yunho shifting uncomfortably as the others cast sidelong glances at him. the door opens, breaking the moment and yunho internally sighs in relief, as the three villains – seonghwa, san, and you – are escorted inside by armed guards. your gray prison uniforms are a stark contrast to the heroes’ pristine, clean ones. yunho’s eyes focus in on the thick collars around your necks, a dim, red light pulsing faintly – prisoner control devices. you are further restrained with a sleek, heavy, metal helmet that entirely covers your head and face. yunho is sure that you can’t see out of it at all. 

“this is ridiculous. putting them on our team?” hongjoong says once more, scowl growing even deeper. 

“by order of the hero association, you’re to work together,” one of the agents said, fixing their glasses, “the villain alliance is escalating – demon appearances are increasing, dangerously, you’ll need their help. villains are better suited to take down other villains afterall.” 

your head tilts slightly, sensing the hostility in the room despite being unable to see it. seonghwa and san exchange quick glances, their body language guarded. 

“this is a bad idea. they’re basically just as dangerous as the demons,” jongho whispers quietly from the other side of yunho. 

“we don’t have a choice,” yunho says back, trying his best to sound neutral; however, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. all he can do is picture you from six years ago, before the hero association and public claimed you to be one of the worst villains alive. 

the other agent steps forward, their presence commanding attention as they begin to speak, “we’ve gathered intel that the villain alliance has been growing exponentially with more and more demons popping up. they are also reported to have a ranking system with the top demons known as the twelve moons. these twelve demons are the alliance’s most strongest aside from their leader – nicha yontararak, is powerful. we don’t know the exact extent of her powers yet. which is why these three,” they say pointing to you and the other two villains, “are some of our strongest villains we have on death row. they’ve… agreed to cooperate.” 

wooyoung can’t help but let out a snicker at the agent’s words, “‘agreed’? pretty sure those collars say otherwise.” 

“as if we want to help you all. i would rather happily stay in my cell and watch you all fail miserably,” san snaps back sharply. 

wooyoung steps forward, jaw clenched, “big words for someone in cuffs.” 

“careful, hero. the collars don’t stop us from speaking,” seonghwa says, his voice the complete opposite of san’s. like fire and ice. 

you remain silent, your head shifting slightly as if trying your best to track the conversation. the helmet not only robs you of your sight, but also most of your hearing. your restrained demeanor makes you an enigmatic presence amongst the three villains. 

“enough. we’re all here for the same reason,” yeosang says calmly, trying to de-escalate the situation before it grew even more hostile. was that even possible? he surely didn’t want to find out. 

“speak for yourself,” hongjoong scoffs.

the first agent speaks up again, “this isn’t up for debate. the decision is final. get them integrated into the team.” the guards step back but remain close, their hands on their weapons as if waiting for either villains or heroes to make the wrong move. the two agents turn to leave but the second one pauses at the door. 

“one last thing. these collars can and will neutralize them if they step out of line. you have our full authorization to engage them if necessary, captain hongjoong.” the agents exits the room, leaving a thick silence behind. the room feels suffocating with unspoken tension. 

“so, will you actually be able to help us? or is this just an eventual setup?” jongho asks, looking towards the villains. 

“we were in prison, not their meetings,” seonghwa deadpans at the youngest hero, “do we look like demons to you?” 

yunho finds himself stepping closer to you, “y/n? how… how have you been?” his voice is quiet and he cringes at how he sounds. why the hell would he ask you that? of course you haven’t been good, you’ve been in prison. 

you don’t answer him; however, choosing to remain silent which causes hongjoong to let out a laugh as if to ridicule yunho. yunho casts a quick glance at you. his jaw tightens, an unfamiliar guilt gnawing at him. he shifts uncomfortably, wondering if things could’ve been different – if he had done more, maybe tried harder to help you all those years ago. his fingers curl into fists before he looks away, swallowing his thoughts. 

“don’t waste your breath, yunho. she doesn’t care about any of this,” hongjoong says. 

san steps forward, tension rolling off his form, “watch your mouth,” he threatens with a clenched jaw. 

“or what?” hongjoong asks with a cold smile, “you can’t do anything without your leash.” 

before things could escalate further, mingi steps between them, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “we’re supposed to be working together. let’s not start killing each other before the real fight.” 

seonghwa places a hand on san’s shoulder, guiding him back a step. you tilt your head slightly, as if observing the dynamics despite your blindness. 

“this is going well,” yeosang says softly, the tension clearly making him on edge. 

“it’s gonna get worse,” wooyoung mutters. 

“then we’d better figure it out fast. the villain alliance isn’t going to wait for us to get along,” jongho says seriously as he looks around. 

ateez compound – common room – evening

the ateez compound is probably the nicest facility you’ve ever seen. its sleek in design and filled with every necessity a hero team might need and more: training rooms, living quarters, a common area with large couches, a television that actually worked, and a kitchen off to the side. the atmosphere, however, is anything but welcoming, you conclude. 

you sit in the corner of the common room, back against the wall, and your head finally free of that damn helmet that you had been forced to wear for six years in prison. seonghwa leans on the arm of one of the long couches, observing the room with an icy, detached look. san, sits cross-legged on the floor, tossing a small ball against the wall and catching it repeatedly. the three of you remain isolated, a rather stark contrast to the other heroes clustered together on the other side of the room. 

the air on the other side of the common area is heavy with an uneasy mix of silence and tension. hongjoong stands by the large window that overlooks the surrounding outside area of the compound, arms crossed, his sharp gaze darting towards the three villains every few seconds. his eyes stay on you a little longer, taking in your calm yet unreadable face. wooyoung leans against the wall near him, arms folded tightly, while yeosang and mingi quietly watch from the kitchen. 

jongho watches everyone from his spot on the other couch that isn’t occupied by seonghwa. yunho, perched on the edge of a chair, keeps glancing at you but says nothing. 

“i still can’t believe we have to live with them. it’s like inviting a time bomb into your house,” hongjoong grimaces. 

“more like three. pretty sure those collars won’t stop them if they decide to go rogue,” wooyoung snickers from beside him. 

“you don’t know that. maybe this could work if we actually tried,” mingi said, a little louder than he intended. hongjoong shifts his gaze to mingi, eyebrows raised. 

“tried? they’re not here to make friends, mingi. they’re here because the association thinks villains killing villains is easier than us doing it.” 

“it doesn’t mean they can’t be allies. everyone starts somewhere,” yeosang says calmly. 

wooyoung rolls his eyes at the red-haired hero’s words, “dark powers stick together, huh?” yeosang doesn’t respond to the obvious bait, but his jaw tightens. meanwhile, you tilt your head slightly, almost like you were listening. 

san catches his ball with an annoyed sigh, “we can hear you, you know.” he says flatly. 

“good,” wooyoung responds mockingly, “saves me the trouble of repeating myself.” 

“you’re very brave when you’re surrounded by your friends,” you suddenly speak up, breaking your silence. the room goes quiet at your words. this is the first time any of them have heard you speak and it sends an uneasy shiver down the heroes’ spines as you narrow your eyes over at wooyoung. an unexplainable energy feels like his chest when you make eye contact, and he opens his mouth to respond, but hongjoong puts a hand on his arm, shaking his head. the tension is palpable. 

the setting sun is the only thing warming the otherwise cold room, painting the usually white walls with an orange glow to it. 

ateez compound – rooftop – later that night

the rooftop of the compound offers a great view of the surrounding forest. you can see the city in the distance, the skyline blinking and it reminds you of the stars that are in the sky. yeosang stands at the edge, leaning on the railing looking out at said skyline. you join him, your movements quiet. 

“couldn’t sleep?” you ask, opting to not look at yeosang, but you could tell he was distracted. 

“no.” 

“figured,” you said, smirking lightly, “i guess the compound’s not as relaxing as it usually is, huh?”

yeosang doesn’t respond immediately. you shift a little, looking from him to the city where his eyes are. 

“do they… hate you too?” you asked quietly, as if you were worried that someone unwanted would overhear you. 

“what?” yeosang finally looks at you, a look of surprise on his face. 

“the others. your powers are different. they must notice.”

yeosang lets out an awkward cough as he considers your words for a moment, then shrugs. “i’ve gotten used to it. people are scared of what they don’t understand. it’s easier to focus on appearances instead.” 

“the public loves appearances more than powers,” you said absentmindedly and yeosang can’t help but agree. you hear him take a breath, like he was going to say something, but changes his mind. “what? just ask what you want.” 

“the helmet.”

“what about it?”

“why were you wearing it?”

“it was a security measure. the association learned that it was harder for me to use my powers if i couldn’t see, so… bye-bye sight,” you explain to him and yeosang frowns at your words. 

“the… hero association isn’t bad are they?” he asks and you remain quiet for a few moments before letting out a sigh. 

“not to you maybe, but i am what they label as a villain,” you say with a dry laugh. “so… yeah.” 

“right,” he says with a nod before he’s watching you step away from the edge and back towards the door. 

“make sure you get some sleep, yeosang, good night,” you say, leaving yeosang alone once again. 

“good night, y/n.”

ateez compound – training room – morning

the training room is dimly lit, walls lined with weapons and dummies. seonghwa is sitting on the floor, stretching, while yeosang practices his summoning abilities nearby. dark shadows twist and coil around him, taking the form of skeletal figures. you lean against the wall, watching yeosang’s power with mild interest. 

“so they kept you in solitary confinement?” yeosang asks, looking over to where you are leaning against the wall. 

“they didn’t trust me to not use my powers on the other prisoners,” you say rather flatly. 

“must have been… isolating,” he says with a small nod. 

your expression flickers for a moment before you shrug, “isolations not so bad when the company’s worse.”

seonghwa snorts softly, but there’s tension in his posture. jongho enters the room, his presence grounding. he surveys the scene before turning his attention to you. 

“they’re not wrong to be cautious. you’re powerful,” he says. 

“careful, jongho. almost sounds like a compliment,” you say with a smirk. 

“just an observation, but power doesn’t mean anything without control.”

seonghwa’s eyes flicker to you, a shadow of concern in his expression. before anyone can respond, yeosang’s shadowy figure lunges towards a dummy, striking it with force. the sound echoes, breaking the tension.

“you ever think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here? if things were different?” yeosang asks rather casually that it almost makes you laugh at how easy-going and innocent his demeanor is. 

you hesitate, your gaze turning hazing and distant for a moment, “sometimes. doesn’t change anything, though.” 

seonghwa exchanges a glance with jongho, unspoken thoughts hanging heavy in the air. 

ateez compound – outdoor training grounds – day

the outdoor training grounds are sprawling, surrounded by high fences in order to protect the compound from any unwanted visitors and allow its residents to easily overlook the gray sky. you and yunho are standing opposite each other on the sparring mat, the rest of the team watching from the sidelines. hongjoong has said that him and the others should get a feel of what they are working with when it comes to you, seonghwa, and san. of course, you know he thinks he’s just wasting his time. if wooyoung not voicing the fact loudly didn’t tell you anything. 

“you ready?” yunho asks awkwardly, but when is he not awkward with you? 

“always,” you reply flatly. 

the two of you begin sparring, your movements sharp and calculated. yunho hesitates, his strikes lacking conviction and passion. you take advantage of this, knocking him off balance. 

“what’s wrong, number one hero? afraid to hit me?” you taunt him. 

yunho regains his footing, his jaw tightening, “of course not,” he says defensively. he lungs forward, but you counter effortlessly, your power flickering subtly around you – small bouts of red lightning appearing. yunho falters, his mind clouded with static. flashes of a memory – unclear and fragmented – flicker in his mind. he stumbles, clutching his head. 

you pause, brows furrowing, “yunho?” 

before you can approach, mingi’s voice cuts through the haze. “yunho! you okay?” yunho straightens, shaking off the disorientation.

“i’m fine,” he says, brushing it off like nothing happened. 

you step back, your expression guarded. the sparring session resumes, but the tension is heavier now. yunho is more aggressive in his movements, as if trying to prove something, but your skills thankfully keep you ahead. 

“enough! this isn’t a fight to the death,” hongjoong says from the sidelines.

yunho steps back, breathing heavily. you lower your guard, gaze lingering on him. “you’re holding back,” you say quietly. 

yunho doesn’t respond, turning away. the team disperses, the unresolved tension hanging over them like a storm cloud. 

ateez compound – common room – evening

mingi and yeosang are playing a game of cards at the table while seonghwa reads a book on the couch nearby. san lounges not too far from him, watching the game with mild interest. you sit in the corner by the window, eyes glued to the nature surrounding the compound. a flock of crows fly by and they have you entranced for a moment. 

“you’re terrible at this,” mingi says to yeosang with a large grin on his face. 

“i’m letting you win,” yeosang deadpans back at the light-user. 

you glance away from the window, your gaze flickering between them and their cards. 

“he cheats, you know,” you say, directing your words to yeosang. the handsome hero looks towards his teammate with wide, shocked eyes which makes mingi gasps, feigning offense. 

“i do not!” he shrieks out, this causes san to chuckle from his seat as seonghwa looks up from his book, a faint smirk on his face. you know moments of peace like this are brief, but you can’t help but feel this is a small step towards a hopeful unity. 

if only the others were like mingi and yeosang…  

ateez compound – training room – night

you’ve grown use to hearing the hum of the machinery in the training room over the short amount of time you’ve been here. it echoing and bouncing off the walls and sparring mats. you stood near the edge of the large sparring mat, back against the wall with seonghwa next to you. his arms crossed and his shoulder brushing against yours as he whispers quiet words into your ear. the quiet promises of something later making you let out a small smile. 

san sits across from you all on the floor, stretching, his broad shoulders even more prominent in the black tank top he’s wearing. he can’t help the soft grin that graces his lips as he watches you and seonghwa. “that definitely looks like training.”  

you turn to look at the blood user, grinning softly, “i think we’ve had enough training for one day.”

seonghwa hums in agreement, tilting his head towards you slightly, “i agree. i’d rather just be here.” 

san lets out a chuckle, rising to his feet and stepping closer to the two of you. he stops just next to you, his hands brushing lightly over your arms and it sends a chill down your spine. 

“i think you look better when you’re not fighting,” san teases, making you laugh. 

“i don’t fight all the time,” you say, rolling your eyes a little bit at his words, “you were always the one starting fights in prison. i was too busy being held in solitary confinement.”

“and you only came out when they threw san in,” seonghwa says, making san send a glare over the other male. 

you notice seonghwa watches you and san with a calm expression, eyes soften as you can’t help but rest your forehead gently against san’s. you feel the shapeshifter’s finger tracing up your back, neck – over the damn death collar, and under your chin before he’s turning your face to look at him. 

“hwa…” you call out his name softly and it feels unreal almost. like the three of you weren’t villains, but just… normal people. “i don’t know what i’d do without you both,” you add quietly as you feel seonghwa’s arms slip around your waist. seonghwa’s grip is both grounding and gentle as he pulls you towards him. you feel san pressing a light kiss to your hair and you feel your heart speed up from how close to the males are. 

you haven’t been this close to them in a while and it felt nice. 

seonghwa draws your attention back to him as his hand comes to brush along your cheek, lifting your chin slightly as his lips connect with yours. san hovers behind you, sandwiching you between the two, his hands resting lighting on your hips and slipping underneath your shirt, and tracing small circles into your skin. 

the moment stretches, tender and unguarded, and for now you forget about the hero association, the villain alliance, hongjoong’s aggressive attitude, and even yunho’s avoid eyes. you felt normal. your fingers curl gently into seonghwa’s shirt to pull him closer to you – if that was even possible. san presses his forehead against your shoulder and you feel his lips press into your skin. 

from the shadows of the door, yunho stands frozen in place. his eyes watching the intimacy between you three and he can’t help the twist in his gut at the sight. his fists clench, unclench, clench again at his sides as an unfamiliar mix of emotions flickering through him.

the room blurs slightly, but yunho can’t find it in him to look away. like he refuses to look away. heart pounding in his ears when seonghwa presses his lips to yours once more, san’s thumb grazing over your bandaged, healing skin with a sort of tenderness yunho didn’t even realize the blood user even had. 

a faint static hum fills yunho’s mind. his vision distorts – flashes of static along with something distant and obscured flicker across his thoughts. he grips the doorway, feeling his breath hitch as sweat builds along his hairline. a vague image – your face, slightly younger and laughing, suddenly blurs into focus for a split second, only to fade back into the static. 

his breath shudders as the static fragments slip away, leaving a dull ache in its wake. yunho’s knuckles whiten against the frame as his mind reels in so many directions.

“y…ho? yun…? yunho? you good?” mingi’s sudden voice snaps yunho out of his daze and grounds him. 

the top hero stiffens a little, blinking as he turns to see his friend approaching him. yunho clears his throat and steps away from the doorway, not wanting mingi to find out he was spying on you three. 

shaking the lingering ache from his mind, “yeah, i’m fine.” a fake smile appears on his face, and he hopes that mingi buys it. 

“you sure?” he asks, eyes studying him and a frown faintly appearing, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

yunho forces a laugh, his smile still not reaching his eyes as he nods, “just tired.” his gaze shifts back towards the training room, thoughts lingering on the villains one last time. the warmth you all seem to share feels distant, like something yunho can’t reach. 

as yunho walks past mingi and down the hall, his expression hardens, but the flicker of the static memory lingers. haunting and incomplete. his fingers brush briefly over his temple, the ache refusing to fade. 

outskirts of seoul – itaewon district – night 

the nine of you stand together at the edge of the seemingly desolate district. the supposedly once lively streets are eerily silent. when briefed about the mission originally, you were expecting to see at least some people hiding in their homes, away from the villain that is terrorizing the district. however, this place was completely deserted: broken windows, overturned cars, and abandoned belongings create an unsettling atmosphere that sends an unwanted chill down your spine. a flickering streetlight buzzes faintly in the distance and you think it only adds to unsettling tension. 

hongjoong stands at the front of the group, his eyes scanning the area, “stay sharp. something’s not right here,” he says and you all nod. despite how much you don’t like hongjoong for how hostile he’s been, you have to hand it to him that he takes his captain role seriously in cases like this. 

“it’s too quiet. no birds, no wind… nothing,” yeosang says, frown evident on his face as he also looks around. 

you all continue to walk cautiously down the street. mingi kneels down next to an abandoned bicycle, the handlebars bent and smeared with blood. “whatever happened here wasn’t long ago,” he says, looking from the bicycle to you and the others. 

suddenly, a low clicking noise echoes through the streets. everyone freezes.

“what the hell was that?” yunho asks, tensing as he clenches his fists. you look around nervously, your breath visible in the cold air. when did it suddenly get so cold?

“probably a rat,” wooyoung snickers, but you can tell he’s trying to hide his nerves, “or maybe y/n’s shadow creeping around.” you shoot him a sharp glare, but choose to say nothing. you refuse to waste your breath on him and his snide remarks. 

“that’s no rat,” seonghwa whispers, eyes narrowing. 

the clicking grows louder, accompanied by the sound of something wet and slithering. the sounds fill your senses as you and the team move cautiously toward the sound, weapons ready. as you turn a corner, that’s when you come across the horrific thing – a man (or what looked like a man) crouched over a pile of corpses, tearing into the flesh of his victims as blood pools around him at his feet. 

you couldn’t help but let out a gasp when the man’s head suddenly snapped towards your group. no… it wasn’t man, at least not anymore, you concluded. his face had been morphed into something similar to a spider. several beady eyes and fangs protruding from his mouth, his limbs were also similar to that of a spider – long and spindly limbs which you figure made it easier for the creature to tear into flesh. 

“what the fuck?” jongho grimaced, gripping his fist as the spider monster stood to his full height and let out a hiss.  

“it’s a demon! be careful!” you shouted right as the demon lunged for mingi who used his light powers in defense. the demon stopped in his tracks, shielding his eyes, he let out another shrieking hiss before he’s jumping back and away into the shadows. 

“why the hell is there a demon here?” jongho asks, eyes wide in surprise which matches the rest of your faces. 

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling he’s not the only one here,” hongjoong says, eyes locking onto the pile of corpses the demon was just eating from. “let’s split up, this is no longer just a regular investigation mission.” 

outside itaewon district – forest – night

you and wooyoung run through the dark forest, the sound of your footsteps are muffled by the damp earth beneath you. the trees are dense, casting long, twisted shadows in the dim moonlight. 

“we should’ve stayed with the others. i don’t trust you watching my back,” wooyoung snarls out from slightly ahead of you. 

“don’t worry, wooyoung. i wouldn’t trust me either,” you say, rolling your eyes.

wooyoung opens his mouth to retort but stops short of his remark when you both stumble into a clearing. a woman wearing a white kimono stands in the center, strands of silk coming out of her fingers and you notice she’s manipulating them. this must be the demon controlling the other spider demons. her eyes are closed, so it's hard to tell if she’s noticed you and wooyoung yet. 

“this must be the main demon,” you whisper to wooyoung who nods in agreement. “we kill her and the others should die as well.” 

an eerily smile then stretches onto the woman’s face, eyes snapping open and you notice that instead of regular pupils she instead has 하위다섯 – lower five – written on her eyes. “ah~ fresh prey. how delightful~ you both will be perfect additions to my family,” she says, words dripping from her mouth. 

wooyoung lets out a tsk, “let’s see how delightful you find this,” he says, raising both hands and allowing both of them to easily be engulfed in ice and flames. 

“she’s with the villain alliance, be careful!” you say, but wooyoung seems to ignore your warning as he unleashes streams of fire and ice, weaving them together to attack the woman. the villain lungs for wooyoung, spider limbs ripping from her back and you watch as she easily dodges all of wooyoung’s attacks. her inhuman agility easily gives the hero a run for his money. 

that’s when you notice her fingers, moving and invisible silk strings glimmering slightly in the moonlight. you suck in a breath when you realize that you and wooyoung have walked right into her web. you summon a sword with your powers, shimmering red as you grip it tightly in your hold, charging at the spider villain. 

you manage to cut down one of her spider limbs, black blood spraying the area around while some of it lands on your arm. you let out a hiss as the blood starts to burn. acid. her blood was acidic thanks to her powers. she lets out another hiss before directing her attention towards you now. your blade gleaming in the moonlight. the two of you clash violently, the sound of steel meeting hardened exoskeleton rings through the forest air. the woman retaliates, one of her bladed limbs slicing across your arm, drawing blood. 

wooyoung suddenly appears from your peripheral, left fist covered in ice as he manages to strike her, freezing the part that wooyoung made contact with. you use wooyoung as a distraction, slashing through the silk strands before countering a powerful swing from one of her spider limbs. 

“you’re not walking away from this,” wooyoung hisses out before attacking her again with his ice powers. the villain grits her teeth, silk strands whip out, wrapping around your arm and yanking you forward. 

“you’re wasting your potential with these weaklings,” she says, gripping your face tightly as another strand of silk catches your other arm. you feel the strands digging into your skin and slowly dripping down your arms. “join my family.”

“not… a chance,” you hissed out before managing to headbut the villain and knocking her away. wooyoung burns the strands that held you, and you turn to give him a nod before you snap your attention back to the villain.  

she lets out a high-pitched scream that shakes the trees around the clearing. her eyes begin to transform into a darker red color, teeth sharpening as the strands attached to her fingers turn a blood red. 

“i am sakura, lower rank five of the twelve moons. servant to lady nicha, creator of the demons and leader of the villain alliance, and i will make sure to kill you all and bring your heads back to her on a plate!” sakura hisses out as her remaining spider limbs hoist her up above you and wooyoung. 

you brace your sword while wooyoung stands next to you, both fire and ice at the ready. “like to see you try, spider-bitch.” 

outside itaewon district – deeper in the forest – night

yunho and san run through the forest, breathing uneven from both villain and hero as they rush into the clearing. they manage to arrive just as you and wooyoung struggle to subdue sakura. the villain’s grotesque, spider-like form creating dangerous shadow-like figures under the moonlight, her bladed limbs slicing through the air with deadly precision. 

“we’re here!” yunho shouts as him and san rush forward, “hold her off!” 

“about time! she’s a damn nightmare!” wooyoung says through gritted teeth as he dodges one of sakura’s limbs. 

sakura lets out an inhuman screech, her silk strands snapping like whips towards the group. you counter, slashing the threads mid-air with your glowing sword, but more strands follow, faster and more aggressive than the previous ones. 

“she’s not slowing down!” you shout, dodging and slashing at several strands. so many are coming at once that you don’t even notice more of them coming from behind; however, san does. he plants his feet firmly, his blood tendrils lashing out like crimson blades, slicing through the silk strands. he extends a sharp tendril forward, wrapping it around one of sakura’s legs, and yanks her off balance. 

“i’ve got her! go!” san shouts and you nod rushing towards the villain, blade raised high in the air, but sakura twists unnaturally, snapping san’s blood tendrils with her powerful limbs. she leaps into the air, flipping away from the males and lands directly in front of you. sakura thrusts one of her bladed limbs towards your chest. you dodge, but not fast enough – sakura’s limb slices across your upper arm, drawing blood. 

you let out a hiss as you roll away from her, “fucking hell,” you mutter, glaring at the spider villain who has a malicious smile stretching across her face. 

you easily shrug off the pain, swinging your sword with calculated fury, sparks flying as the blade clashes against sakura’s hardened limbs. each strike grows more vicious, the forest ground beneath you splattered with dirt, blood, and silk. 

yunho then comes rushing in, “stay back, y/n!” he barrels into sakura with his shoulder, sending her sprawling to the ground. he stands in front of you, his fists flowing faintly with energy. 

“a hero protecting a villain? how sweet. too bad i’ll have to kill you both!” sakura snarls out tauntingly. she then lunges, her blades arms spinning in a flurry of strikes. yunho ducks and counters, landing a glowing punch that sends her reeling. 

“now!” yunho shouts to san who nods. 

san forms a massive spear from both his own blood and what’s already been spilled and hurls it with deadly precision. it impales sakura’s shoulder, pinning her to a tree. he then hurls several smaller ones into her body to keep her from trying to get free. 

“do it now! take her down before she gets free!” san shouts urgently to you. you sprint forward, sword glowing brighter as your power surges. but sakura, even pinned, refuses to go down easily it seems. she lets out a screech and pulls herself free, shattering the tree behind her and even leaving several large holes in her body. 

“you’ll have to try harder than that!” sakura snarls with a laugh. 

“how the fuck is she still alive?!” wooyoung shouts, annoyed. 

“you have to aim for the neck when it comes to demons,” yunho tells him. 

suddenly, sakura summons more spider demons, their grotesque forms crawling from the shadows of the forest. all bearing a striking resemblance to sakura herself. wooyoung steps up, unleashing a fiery explosion that engulfs several of them.

“i’ve got the small ones. you three handle her!” he shouts before having two more spider demons engulfed in flames with loud screeches. 

san and yunho close in on sakura, attacking in unison. san uses his blood tendrils to ensnare her limbs, while yunho lands precise strikes on her half regenerated torso, forcing her back. 

sakura leaps into the trees, her movements becoming even more fast and erratic. you follow her, launching herself into the air with a burst of power. 

“you’re not getting away!” you shout, swinging your sword mid-air, narrowly missing sakura as the villain flips backward. they land in a small clearing, separated from the others. 

sakura smirks, her bladed limbs ready for another attack, “you’re persistent, but you’re just a pawn, same as me.” 

“we are nothing alike,” you say, gritting your teeth and charging again, sword blazing. you land a powerful slash across sakura’s abdomen, black blood spilling onto the ground and just barely missing you. sakura screams in rage and pain, movements becoming more erratic and less precise. 

yunho and san catch up, cornering sakura from opposite sides. san skewers one of her limbs with his blood tendrils, holding her in place, while yunho delivers a devastating punch to her mid section, you even hear her exoskeleton cracking. 

“we need to immobilize her! take her into custody for the hero association!” yunho shouts to you. you approach sakura, sword trembling in your hands from the amount of energy this fight has taken. that’s when your eyes meet sakura’s. 

you see a wave of panic flood her eyes as she begins struggling to free herself. “kill me! you have to kill me!” her voice desperate and pleading. it catches the three of you off guard at her sudden tone change. 

“what?” you say, sword gripped tightly in your hand. 

“she’ll find me! lady nicha will do worse than death! please, just kill me!” her words screaming and bouncing off the trees surrounding the clearing. 

you hesitate, sword hovering at sakura’s neck. the conflict in your eyes is clear as sakura’s pleas echo in your ears. her pleas sounding hauntingly familiar to those you have heard before. 

yunho notices the hesitation in your stance, “y/n, don’t hesitate– 

before anyone can act, sakura seizes your sword with her remaining limb and makes a clean swipe at her neck. the blade cuts through her neck, head being severed from her body as they both collapse, lifeless. blood sprays across your body, her blood staining your face and hands. 

you stand frozen, staring at sakura’s body. “she… she killed herself,” you whisper, shaken at the sight. 

san steps forward in an attempt to comfort you, his expression softening. “y/n, it's not your fault– 

you flinch and push him away, stumbling back. you turn to face both san and yunho with wide and shaken eyes. yunho stares at your bloodied face, “y/n–

suddenly, yunho grabs his head, a sharp pain overtaking him as his vision fills with static, distorted images flashing before his eyes. he sees fragments of you, blood across your face, but instead of fear you look almost… emotionless. dead. 

“no…” he groans, clutching his head in pain, “not again.” he collapses to his knees right as wooyoung joins the three in the clearing. he rushes up to yunho, panic on his face as he shakes his shoulder. 

“yunho! what’s happening?” the elemental hero asks, voice also full of panic. 

yunho doesn’t respond, his mind consumed by the visions. meanwhile, you still remain frozen, staring at your blood-covered hands. the clearing is silent except for the rustling of the wind and the faint distant calls of the others calling for their four teammates and the cawing of a single crow.

infinity castle – ██████

the infinity castle groaned with restless energy, its every moving labyrinth walls shifting in different patterns under the glow of several thousand orange lanterns. at the heart of it all, lady nicha stood on a platform, exuding a dominance that was godlike. 

karina, seated beside her with her bipa resting gracefully in her lap, plucked a melancholic melody from its strings. the mournful tune filled the endless castle dimension, heavy and foreboding, stirring unease in the very air. 

“karina. call them.”

without a word, karina’s fingers plucked a singular cord. several hanok doors appeared, sliding open and summoning the lower rank moons. one-by-one they stood on the platform above nicha, her cold gaze watching them intently. they all knelt down, heads bowed low, trembling beneath the weight of nicha’s presence and stare. 

the woman surveyed them with disdain, her eyes narrowing as she looked over them. her voice, calm but laced with venom, shattered the silence. “sakura was killed. why is it that you demons in the lower ranks are so utterly weak? the upper ranks of the twelve moons have remained unchanged. how many times have you been replaced?”

that’s easy for you to say, but we… one of the lower moons thought. 

“that’s easy for you to say, but we…” nicha says, repeating the demon’s thoughts. “what? go ahead and say it.” her eyes piercing down at the lower moon with her red eyes. 

i’m screwed! they thought, body trembling.  

“screwed how?” 

the air grew impossibly cold, the shadows on the walls twisting with sudden ferocity. her expression darkened, her crimson eyes gleaming with a silent fury. suddenly, a grotesque tendril appeared and attacked the lower moon, raising him upside down in the air. his eyes wide in fear, but had no opportunity to scream as the tendril shredded through him. blood pooling down blew and covering both the platform and remaining lower moons. 

nicha then turns her attention to one of the other lower moons, “every time you cross paths with a hero you run. the only thing on your mind is to escape it's an embarrassment to the villain alliance.”

the demon immediately began trying to explain herself, saying how she repeatedly puts her life on the line for lady nicha and her cause. 

“are you… calling me a liar?” nicha’s voice reverberates through the chamber, each syllable a knife carving into the demon’s hysteric composure. the music from karina’s bipa continued to play with a sharper edge. the grotesque tendril immediately crushed the lower moon with its weight. her blood spraying the remaining three lower moons with blood. 

before nicha could continue her slaughter on the lower moons, the lower third suddenly dashes away. his demon speed taking him away from the platform he was originally summoned on and further into the infinity castle. 

the only option is to run! he thought as he jumped from one sideways roof to another. 

a sudden slash was heard before the lower moon’s head was clutched in nicha’s head, dripping blood as his dead eyes stared at the remaining too. 

“i believe the twelve moons are better off consisting of just the upper ranks. i am now dismantling the lower ranks.”

nicha then effortlessly tosses the severed head down onto the other platform. the head hitting the wooden ground with a thump! and rolling slightly before coming to a sudden stop. 

“do you have any last words?”

“i can still be of use to you, lady nicha! if you were to just give me more of your blood then–

“what makes you think you can order me to give you my blood?”

“you misunderstand! you misunderstand!”

“shut up. i misunderstand nothing. i’m never mistaken about anything. my word is absolute,” nicha’s eyes began to glow as she continued to look at the lower moon, “you tried to tell me what to do, yet you are the worthless one. you deserve to die.” 

lower moon one, yena, is suddenly the only one left, her face covered in the blood of her previous fellow lower moons. yet, she continues to look up at lady nicha with more adoration than fear. eyes glazed over. 

“do you have any last words?” nicha asks, looking at the demon. 

“if i am to die by your hand, my lady, then i am honored~ you have given me everything. my strength, my purpose… my life. if i am unworthy, than i would rather die by your hand than live in disgrace~” 

nicha paused, her fury momentarily eclipsed by curiosity. her crimson eyes narrowed as she regarded the unshaken demon. 

“honored, are you?” the dimension fell silent. but the silence didn’t last long when a fleshy, grotesque tendril came down from above and stabbed yena in the neck. injecting the lower moon with some of nicha’s blood. yena suddenly fell to the floor and began to thrash and convulse, letting out a guttural cry. 

“that’s what i like to hear~” nicha said, a faint cold smile twitching upon her lips for a split second. she seemed to gain some sick satisfaction at watching yena convulse on the ground beneath her. “i’ll give you an ample share of my blood. make yourself useful to me, then. if you kill the female villain who works with the heroes then i will give you even more of my blood. failure is not an option.” 

yena could only let out a gurgled noise in response. karina plucked several notes on her bipa. with each note a hanok door appeared and shut, separating nicha from yena who struggled on the ground. one final note plucked and a door appeared underneath yena, opening and whisking her away and back to wherever she was prior.

ACT II: MUHAN TRAIN

busan district – train station – night

the moon hangs low in the night sky, its pale light illuminating the quiet train station. mingi walks over to the entrance, his boots crunching the gravel underneath. he adjusts his gloves and scans the area. the train station is quiet, almost abandoned of human life as he steps inside to look around. there’s a single light glowing warmly in the place. there’s no one at the counter, too dangerous to be out at night anymore. 

he remembers hongjoong briefing him on the mission: investigate the train that had twenty passengers suddenly vanish without a trace. the association think its the work of a high-level villain. mingi though? he’s not entirely sure anymore, especially after dealing with sakura back in the itaewon district. 

“this place gives me the creeps,” he mutters under his breath. the faint sound of a train whistle echoes through the distance. mingi frowns as he feels a chill run directly down his spine. he looks around cautiously, his heightened senses on alert.

mingi comes to the conclusion that this sleepy town looks like it forgot the concept of daylight. the streets are dimly lit, and most of the windows are closed, not a single outside soul able to see what goes on inside. he stops in front of a rundown looking diner and enters to see a few locals gathered about the place. the bell above the door jingles half-heartedly at his arrival. 

the smell of stale coffee and grease fills and lingers in the air. mingi approaches the counter where an elderly waitress, face lined with years of worry, greets him. 

“you’re not from around here, are you?” her voice is hushed as she looks over mingi’s appearance, his natural stark white hair making him easily stand out amongst the locals. 

mingi shakes his head, “i’m here about the train. heard anything strange?” his words catch the gazes of the other patrons who look nervous.

the waitress hesitates before leaning closer, her voice low and trembling, “it’s not just the train. there’s someone… something. we call him ‘the slasher.’”

mingi straightens, brows furrowing, “the slasher?” he repeats. 

“attacks people at night. leaves them… torn apart. no one’s seen his face. some think he’s a legend at this point.” 

“and you’re sure it’s not connected to the train?” mingi asks, hands tightening into fists. the waitress shakes her head, glancing towards the door nervously. 

“no, but he’s just as dangerous.”

suddenly, a loud crash comes from outside. mingi bolts to the door, throwing it open to see a figure standing under a flickering streetlight. 

mingi assumes this is the slasher the waitress told him about. the figure stands tall, shrouded in darkness. his mask is stitched together with mismatched pieces of leath, and his hands are tipped with sharp, metallic claws. mingi thinks he just walked straight out of a horror film. a terrified civilian is pinned against the wall beside him, struggling to break free. 

“leave, hero, or they bleed,” the slasher hissed out, beady eyes staring straight at mingi. 

mingi steps forward, unshaken by the threat, “let them go. now!” 

the slasher tilts his head, amused. he tosses the civilian back, who lets out a cry, before lunging towards mingi with surprising speed. the villain swipes his claws in a flurry, each strike aiming for mingi’s vital points. mingi is able to duck and dodge with precision, his combat skills sharp and deliberate like any high-class hero. 

“is that all you’ve got?” mingi asks grinning. 

mingi retaliates, delivering a powerful kick that sends the slasher flying into a pile of crates. the villain recovers quickly, leaping into the air and slashing downward. mingi rolls out of the way, his fist glowing faintly with his light energy. the alley becomes a quick battlefield, the slasher’s claws leave deep gouges in the brick walls. meanwhile, mingi counters with precise strikes that force the villain to become defensive. 

“you’re faster than the others, but you won’t leave here alive,” the villain taunts, a maniacal laugh leaving his lips. 

“we’ll see about that,” mingi says. the hero charges, his energy-infused punch connecting with the slasher’s chest. the impact sends a shockwave through the alley, shattering nearby windows. the slasher stumbles, his claws sending sparks flying as they scrape the ground. 

realizing he’s outmatched, the slasher attempts to flee. mingi chases him through the streets, their movements a blur of speed and violence. 

the fight ends at the edge of town, where mingi finally subdues the slashes. with a final punch, he knocks the villain unconscious, leaving him crumpled on the ground. the first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon, bathing the scene in a faint golden glow. mingi wipes sweat from his brow, breathing heavily. 

“one down. now for the train,” he says to himself as he goes to connect the hero association so they can deal with the villain that lays on the ground.  

busan district – train station – sunrise

mingi approaches the train station once again. this time instead of being abandoned, he notices a person at the ticket booth. he walks up to the older woman who simply smiles at him. 

“the muhan train… is it running?” he asks.

“oh, yes! they sent her back from the train yard last night,” she explains and mingi is surprised by the news, but if this means he can figure out the mystery surrounding it then…

“three tickets, please,” mingi says, holding up three fingers. the older woman lets out a chuckle as she gets the three tickets ready. mingi pays the woman before thanking her. 

he pockets the tickets and turns, spotting a familiar figure waiting for him near the platform – yunho, with you standing a few feet behind, your expression unreadable. mingi is honestly surprised that hongjoong sent the two of you on this mission with him considering the results of the last mission. 

“took you long enough,” yunho says, nodding towards his friend. 

“ran into some… distractions,” mingi said with a smile. you glance towards him, your eyes briefly flickering down to the faint scratches on his arm. 

“looks like you’ve been busy,” you say, crossing your arms. mingi chuckles, brushing your comment off as approaches you. 

“don’t worry about it. let’s go. we’ve got a train to catch,” he says, handing you and yunho your tickets. the train whistle suddenly blows and the three of you board before it begins to move, carrying you all to your next destination. 

muhan train – passenger car – night

the train hums steadily as you, mingi, and yunho sit in a modest, warmly lit passenger car. one of the overhead lights flicker softly, making your eye twitch every time it does. a few other passengers sit scattered throughout the car, their light chatter fills the air peacefully. 

“the hero association thinks it’s a demon,” yunho’s voice is low as he leans forward, “it’s the only explanation for twenty people vanishing without a trace.”

“a demon on a train? sounds like something out of a horror movie,” mingi says with a frown, his eyes darting from yunho to you to see your reaction. 

“except this one’s real,” you said seriously, expression void of any possible emotion. 

the three of you glance around the car. the other passengers seem oblivious, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air that you’re positive these civilians are ignoring. ignorance is bliss afterall, you think. a conductor enters, punching tickets as he moves down the aisle. his movements are stiff, mechanical, and his face gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes. like he hasn’t slept in days, weeks. 

the conductor then approaches your row. 

“tickets, please,” he says monotonously. yunho hands over your tickets and the tired man punches them with robotic precision, his hands trembling slightly. 

“you look exhausted,” you say, observing the conductor quietly. the man hesitates but doesn’t respond. he finishes punching the tickets and moves on, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. you watch him leave, a small frown tugging your lips.

“you ever feel like we’re the ones who need a break?” mingi asks, stretching and letting out a yawn a little too loudly. 

“maybe after we survive this,” you say, smiling faintly. 

mingi chuckles, leaning back in his seat. the train’s gentle rocking starts to lull you three into a drowsy state. 

“wake me if the demon shows up,” mingi says, stifling another yawn. you can’t help but also let out a small yawn, eyes feeling heavy and tired as you tilt your head back against the seat. eyes closing. 

muhan train – abandon passenger car – night

the conductor steps into a dim, smoke-filled room. a large mirror reflects distorted shapes of the cabin you and the others are in. yena stands before the mirror, draped in a dark, flowing outfit with theatrical accents of feathers and embroidered stars. her piercing, icy blue eyes gleam the words 아래하나 – lower one – read where her pupils should be, and her smile is predatory, exuding both elegance and malice. she’s clearly not human, not anymore at least.

“welcome back, my loyal friend~” she speaks softly, with a mock bow towards the conductor. 

“i did what you asked. can i… can i rest now? can i be with my family now?” he asks pleadingly. 

yena tilts her head, “of course. i always reward devotion,” she steps closer, placing her gloved hand over his chest. a strange light emanates from her hand as the conductor's body stiffens. his head tilts back, and his eyes close. 

“dream deeply,” she whispers. his body collapses like a marionette with its strings cut. 

yena turns to the mirror, which now shows glowing tendrils snaking into the train’s walls. she lets out a deep laugh, “let’s see what their hearts desire most!” she says to herself, throwing her hands in the air in a large theatrical movement. 

████ – beach – sunset

you let out a gasp, eyes snapping open and you find yourself standing on a beach. it’s peaceful and you can see the waves glittering under the warm sunset. san and seonghwa are beside you, both dressed casually and laughing. san reaches over, brushing sand off her arm with a grin. 

“you’re terrible at building sandcastles,” he says with a smirk. 

seonghwa lets out a chuckle, “more like demolishing them,” he says teasingly. 

you let out a laugh, your voice feeling light and free like you’ve been this way your entire life. the three of you sit together, looking out at the horizon. san wraps an arm around your shoulder, while seonghwa offers you a soda. 

“i’m glad we decided to take this vacation, get away from the city,” seonghwa says softly. 

san nods, “just us.” 

you feel your smile falter for a moment, a faint sense of wrongness creeps in. you look down at your hands, which are clean and unscarred – too perfect. 

“this… isn’t right.”

daegu district – the song residence – day 

mingi stands outside a small house, holding a certificate in one hand and dressed in his pristine hero uniform. when he walks inside he sees his parents sitting inside the cozy living room, their figures illuminated by warm light. 

“mom, dad, i did it! i’m a hero now!” he says to them excitedly before talking about everything he has done in order to be recognized by the hero association. they both glance up, faces unreadable. his mother gives him a small, distracted smile before returning to her knitting. 

“that’s nice, honey,” she says, voice flat and with no emotion. 

his father barely looks up from his newspaper, “don’t forget to take out the trash.” 

mingi’s expression falters, his face full of confusion and hurt which flickers in his eyes. 

seoul district – cherry blossom tree park – day

the seoul district was bustling with life, students, faculty, and regular civilians alike enjoying the warm spring breeze that carried the faint scent of flowers. but what captured everyone’s attention the most were the cherry blossom trees scattered across the park’s main road. their petals glowing faintly under the soft sunlight. 

it was the height of cherry blossom season – or so it appeared. 

yunho smiled as he glanced at you walking beside him, your gaze fixed on the pink and white blossoms overhead. you had always had a particular fondness for things like this, where the world seemed to pause just enough to let beauty shine through. 

“i told you this would be worth it,” yunho said, his voice tinged with pride. “i knew you’d like it.” 

you slowed your steps, eyes narrowing slightly as you studied the trees more closely. your lips quirked into a small, curious frown. “they’re… not real.” 

yunho looked at you with wide eyes, heart sinking at your words, “what?”

you gestured toward one of the branches, where the faint flicker of light betrayed its holographic nature. “they’re projections. pretty sure, but not real cherry blossoms.” 

yunho let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “i’m sorry, y/n. i thought… i didn’t realize. i just wanted to—

“yunho, stop,” you say, turning to him and cutting him off with a gentle smile. “it’s okay. you went out of your way to do something sweet for me, and that means more than whether the blossoms are real or not.” 

your words lifted a weight off of yunho’s shoulders and warmed his heart and body like how you usually manage to do to him. yunho rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning bright red as he struggled to find the words to respond with. “i… i just thought you’d like it,” he mumbles, avoiding your gaze. 

“and i do,” you replied, “especially since i’m here with you,” your tone as sincere as the sparkle in your eyes. 

the two of you began walking along the path that curved beneath the cherry blossoms, their petals shimmering softly in the breeze. yunho couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at you, his heart beating a little faster every time she laughed or pointed out something that caught her interest. 

as they passed a family sitting on a nearby bench, your attention was drawn to a child tugging at their parent’s sleeve. “i wish they were real,” the child said wistfully, staring up at the holographic blossoms. 

you slowed your pace, expression unreadable. yunho noticed but said nothing, assuming your silence was related to quiet disappointment. 

“ready to go?” he asked once you reached the far end of the path. 

“yeah, but i need to use the bathroom first,” you said quickly, darting off before he could respond. 

yunho chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way to a nearby bench beneath one of the holographic trees. 

but then the ground began to rumble. 

yunho immediately shot to his feet, instincts kicking in as he scanned the area for danger. the tremors grew stronger, causing people to cry out and scramble for safety. students began to murmur about a potential villain attack, and yunho was already calculating how to evacuate everyone if needed. 

but before panic could fully set in, something else happened. 

the holographic trees flickered out of existence, their light dimming until they vanished completely. in their place, real cherry blossom trees burst from the ground, their roots spreading as their branches stretched towards the sky. petals began to cascade like rain, painting the park in shades of pink and white. 

yunho was speechless, his breath catching as he took in the sight. the blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, their delicate scent filling the air. it was more beautiful than what he could have ever imagined, almost otherworldly in its perfection. 

“wow!” your voice broke through his trance, and he turned to see you approaching with a wide smile. “look at them!” you stopped beside him, your gaze fixated on the blossoms above. “beautiful, aren’t they, yunho?”

there was something in your tone, a quiet pride that made him look at you instead of the trees. your eyes sparkled with mischief, and he felt a pang of realization hit him. 

“you…” he started, voice trailing off. 

“hmm? what are you saying?” you asked innocently, tilting your head as if you hadn’t just performed a miracle. 

yunho opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he shook his head with a soft laugh. “nothing. forget it.”

you grinned, clearly amused. “oh! before we leave, we should get ––––– a keychain. he’ll never let me hear the end of it if we don’t bring him something.” 

yunho looked at you with confusion written over his face as your voice began to become static. especially when you spoke of someone else’s name. 

“who?” he asked and you looked at him with equal confusion. 

“––––––”

yunho suddenly felt a pain rush through his head, he heard you let out a soft gasp as you touched his arm. his vision being overcomed with static as he saw flashes of different images. 

“yunho? are you okay?” your voice panicked as the pain slowly began to subside from his head.

he shook his head as he straightened up, “yeah, sure,” he replied with a tight lipped smile. you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes before nodding at him. you grabbed his arm in order to pull him towards the park gift shop. 

as you both walked through the park, now alive with real cherry blossoms, yunho couldn’t help but steal one last glance at you. you were radiant, laughter ringing out like music, and for a brief moment, he forgot about everything else. 

all he could think about was how much he wanted this moment to last forever.  

████ – beach – sunset

you feel a sense of unease grow as you stand up. you take a step away from san and seonghwa, your gaze sharpening. 

“this isn’t real.”

san grabs your arm, his grip firm. your eyes look from his hand to his eyes. “stay, please,” he says.

“don’t you want to stay here? with us?” seonghwa asks firmly. 

you hesitate for a moment, pain flickering across your face, but you push san away as you take off running down the beach. you need to wake up, who knew what the demon will do if you don’t do it soon. 

there has to be an end to this place, you conclude as you summon your sword. the red metal glittering in the setting sun as you run along the sand. you figure if you run in a straight line then you should hit the end eventually. right?

“y/n!” you freeze in your tracks at the sudden voice. you feel a chill run down your spine at the familiar voice. what? you feel your breath getting heavy as you hear the person’s footsteps coming closer to you. 

“where are you going? don’t you want to stay here? with me?” 

you hesitate for a moment before turning to see him standing not too far from you. you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes at the sight of him. you feel a part of you pulling towards him, to stay like he wants. like what you want.  

you shake your head, “i’m sorry. there’s people i have to protect.” 

he lets out a laugh as he tilts his head, “i’ll see you later then.” 

you nod your head, looking down at your sword before getting an idea. raising your sword, you plunge it into your chest. the dream shattering like glass.

muhan train – passenger car – night

you wake with a gasp, face pale and sweat-drenched. around you, the passengers are asleep, faces twisted in an unnatural serenity. you shake yunho and mingi in an attempt to wake them, but they remain unresponsive. 

“damnit! you bastards, wake up!” you hiss before summoning your sword and searching for the demon that was responsible for this. 

muhan train – train roof – night

you climb onto the roof, the cold wind biting at your skin. yena stands there, her dark cloak billowing out dramatically. she looks at you with surprise before it transforms into a menacing grin. 

“awake already? how rude of you to leave the dream i tailored so carefully.”

“let’s skip the theatrics,” you say, gripping your sword tightly. 

“oh, darling, i am the theatrics,” she says with a chuckle. yena strikes first, her movement fluid and almost dance-like. you block her attacks with your sword, red sparks flying with every clash. yena’s attacks are graceful but deadly, her nails cutting into your arm. 

“i could give you everything. no more blood, no more pain. just… bliss,” she tells you, tone playful. 

you grit your teeth, “i’ll take reality over your lies.” the fight grows more brutal, with blood spraying as yena’s claws grazes your cheek. you retaliate with a slash across yena’s torso, the villain staggering briefly before smiling. 

the battle intensifies, you pushing through your injuries. finally, you land your sword where her neck lies and sever her head. yena’s head rolls along the roof of the train, body falling to her knees. but yena smirks

“you think this ends here?” yena asks, smiling as blood pours everywhere. 

the train begins to twist and transform, metal screeching as it takes on a grotesque, almost living form. yena’s head attached itself to a flesh tendril as she laughs down at you. her body clapping at the scene before it. 

“what the hell?”

muhan train – train roof – night

the cold wind howls, whipping through your hair as you stand on the roof of the speeding train. you grip your sword tightly, blood dripping from a shallow cut on her arm. the moonlight casts an eerie glow on yena, whose cloak billows unnaturally, as if alive. her sharp features are accentuated by the shadows, and her sly smile reveals teeth too sharp to be human. 

“look at you. so determined. so angry. it’s almost… endearing,” yena speaks, mockingly towards you. you narrow your eyes, sword steady in your hands.

“you’re done terrorizing these people.”

“oh, darling, i’ve only just begun~” she replies with a smirk. 

yena lunges with inhuman speed, her hands slicing through the air like claws. you dodge, barely missing the lethal swipe, and retaliate with a quick slash of your sword. sparks fly as the blade connects with yena’s clock, but the fabric seems to absorb the impact, leaving her unharmed. 

you let out a quick cuss as yena spins, her movements fluid and unnervingly elegant, landing a kick to your side. you stumble but quickly regain your footing, slashing upward. this time, the blade grazes yena’s arm, drawing dark, ink-colored blood. 

“how rude,” yena hisses out, she attacks back. her claws slashing across your shoulder. blood sprays onto the roof, and you grit your teeth, refusing to show weakness. 

muhan train – passenger car – night

inside, yunho jerks awake, his vision blurry and disoriented. around him, the other passengers remain unconscious, their faces peaceful yet unsettling. he notices the grotesque, flesh-like tendrils snaking along the walls and ceiling – pulsing veins of flesh and metal intertwining. 

“what the hell…” he says to himself. a sudden groan shakes the train as the walls ripple, the train itself coming alive in the moment. yunho stumbles toward the back, his instincts and years of training kicking in. 

muhan train – train roof – night

the fight between you and yena escalates. the demon’s movements grow more erratic, her strikes faster and more lethal. you counter with calculated blocks, your sword glowing faintly as you channel your powers into it. you manage to land a deep slash across yena’s chest, causing the villain to stagger. 

but yena only laughs, her voice echoing unnaturally, “you’re strong~ i’ll give you that. but you’re still so… mortal.” 

she raises her arms, the train beneath you begins to twist and convulse. you stumble as the roof warps under your feet. yena’s body shifts, her legs melting into the train. 

“you’re on my turf now, nameless.” 

the train screeches as more of the flesh and metal tendrils burst from the sides, snaking towards you. you slash at them, severing a few, but more only take their place. 

“yunho! mingi! protect the passengers!” you shout, hoping that at one if not both of them are awake by now. hopefully, they found a way to wake up. 

you see movement behind you, and turn to see yunho now on the roof. “we’re not leaving you!” he shouts. 

“just do it!” 

yunho hesitates, but a sharp tendril lashes towards him. he ducks and retreats, heading inside to protect the passengers. 

muhan train – living nightmare train car – night

the interior of the train shifts and slowly becomes unrecognizable. walls pulsate with fleshy growths, and even grotesque eyes and mouths form sporadically, watching and whispering. mingi wakes up to this sudden nightmare, body stiff from the unnatural slumber. he shakes his head as he grabs a nearby pole for support to stand up. 

“what the hell is going on?” he asks, looking around completely horrified. “this really is a horror movie!”

yunho runs towards him, slamming a tendril aside with his fist. “mingi, help me! we need to protect the passengers!” 

mingi nods, steeling himself, and the two begin tearing tendrils away from the unconscious passengers. managing to destroy and burn away the grotesque flesh that covered the car walls. 

muhan train – train roof – night

you fight with everything you have. slashing through webs of tendrils, your body bleeding from multiple cuts. the train’s transformation has made the fight infinitely harder – yena is everywhere. 

“you can’t kill what’s become eternal, little villain,” yena sneers. 

you grit your teeth, sword glowing bright as you channel more energy into it. “watch me.” you then drive your blade into the train roof, sending a shockwave through the mutated structure. yena screams, momentarily destabilized, as parts of the train begin to reverie to normal.

muhan train – living nightmare train car – night

yunho and mingi manage to protect the last of the passengers, securing each of the passenger cars. 

yunho looked up, “do you think y/n is doing okay?” 

mingi looks up as well, “she’s stronger than all of us put together, yunho. she’s got this.” 

yunho licks his lips at mingi’s words, “i hope so, for her sake especially.”

muhan train – train roof – night

you continue to fight, your injuries mounting. yena, now more monstrous than human, laughs as her tendrils lash out. you dodge, though one catches your side, slamming you into the roof. you let out a couch, blood splattering onto the metal. 

yena leans closer to you, “you’re resilient, i’ll give you that. but you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

you grip your sword tightly, glaring at the demon, “inevitable? maybe, but i’ll still win.” 

with a roar, you lunge forward, slashing wildly. the blade glows brighter with each strike, curing through yena’s defenses. finally, you spot yena’s neck – embedded deep within the train’s core. you leap into the air, bringing your sword down in one final, desperate strike. 

“die already!” you scream out. the blade servers yena’s neck, and the demon lets out a bloodcurdling scream as her body begins to disintegrate. the train convulse violently, throwing you to side. 

the power behind your attack has the training derailing, lying on its side in a broken heap. passengers awaken slowly, groggy but alive. yunho helps some of them out while mingi finds you thrown on the other side of the tracks, bleeding heavily. 

derailment site – night

the area is silent except for the crackling of smoldering wreckage from the now derailed train. mingi crouches beside you, helping you sit up after having been thrown off the train, your blood-soaked clothes sticking to her skin. you wince as he carefully presses a piece of torn fabric against her side to staunch the bleeding. 

“stay still, y/n. you’ve lost too much blood already.” 

you grimace, “you’re one to talk… you’re just as banged up.”

“you’re way worse off. besides, someone’s gotta keep you alive.” 

the moment of tense peace between you both is shattered by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps crunching on gravel. a figure emerges from the shadows – a man with a sharp, predatory grin and glowing crimson eyes that read 상위삼 – upper three. the demon from the villain alliance, you conclude, strolls forward. his movements are unnervingly casual, his aura radiating just as menacingly. 

“well, well. looks like i just missed the show, huh?”

mingi quickly stands, stepping protectively in front of you, “who are you?”

the demon lets out a mocking laugh, “aw, you don’t recognize me? i’m hurt. yeonjun, upper rank three of the villain alliance. and you… you’re mingi, right? the loud and flashy one.”

“if you’re looking for a fight, you’re got one.”

you struggle to push yourself up, your hand gripping your sword tightly. “mingi, don’t—

mingi turns to you, “stay down, y/n. you’re in no shape to fight.”

“you can’t take him on alone! don’t be stupid!”

“don’t worry. i’ve got this. after this, we’ll go get something good to eat, okay?” he says, smiling reassuringly to you. you hesitate, jaw tightening, but you finally nod, clutching your wound as you watch mingi step forward. 

“oh, this is gonna be fun,” yeonjun says with a grin. 

mingi charges first, throwing a heavy punch aimed at yeonjun’s face. the demon dodged effortlessly, countering with a kick to mingi’s stomach that sends him skidding back. 

“is that all you’ve got?” he laugh, “come on hero, show me some real power!”

mingi doesn’t respond, rushing back in with a flurry of punches and kicks. his fists land solid blows on yeonjun’s chest, but the demon barely flinches, his wounds healing almost instantly. 

“you’re strong, i’ll give you that. but you’re holding back. still clinging to your humanity.” yeonjun strikes back, his claws raking across mingi’s arm, leaving deep gashes. blood splatters onto the ground, but mingi doesn’t falter. he lands a powerful uppercut that sends yeonjun staggering. 

“humanity’s what makes me stronger than you,” mingi says proudly. 

“oh, please! don’t give me that righteous crap. you’d be unstoppable as a demon. think about it – we could fight like this forever! no limits, no consequences. just endless battles!” 

“not interested.”

the fight intensifies, with mingi and yeonjun exchanging brutal blows. mingi’s knuckles are raw and bleeding, and his breathing grows labored. yeonjun, meanwhile, remains eerily unscathed, his wounds closing as quickly as they open. you watch from the sidelines, clutching your side. your eyes dart between the two fighters, your frustration building as you realize mingi is starting to falter. 

“mingi, stop! you’re gonna get yourself killed!” you shout, panic running through your body and tone. yeonjun smirks, his claws glowing faintly with a dark energy. 

“she’s right, you know. you can’t win this.” the demon lunges, his claws piercing through mingi’s chest. blood pours from the wound as mingi gasps, his body jerking in shock. 

“no!” you scream, terror running through your body. you reach forward, wound shooting a sharp pain through your being and you fall forward. 

despite the mortal injury, mingi musters the last of his strength, his fist glows with energy. he slams it into yeonjun’s face, sending the demon flying backwards. the villain lands with a grunt, momentarily stunned, but his body begins to regenerate almost instantly. 

“you really are stubborn. i’ll give you that, but this? this is just sad,” he says disappointedly. 

mingi collapses to his knees, blood dripping from his lips as his strength finally gives out. you manage to stumble to your feet, sword in hand, vision swimming from blood loss. 

yeonjun notices the faint glow of the horizon as the sun begins to rise. his expression shifts from amusement to alarm. he then starts running back into the dense forest, you wobbling after him shouting. 

“you… you bastard! you coward! come back and finish this!” you say staggering forward and making it to the forest line. 

“you think i’m running from you? that’s cute,” he laughs as he gets further and further away. 

you, in a desperate move, throw your sword. the blade slices through the air and impales yeonjun’s chest. the demon falters, yanking the sword out with a grimace before fully disappearing into the shadows. 

“you coward!” you scream with as much strength as you could muster. 

derailment site – sunrise

you stumble back towards mingi, falling to your knees in front of him. his breathing is shallow, his face pale. you press your hands against his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. 

“st-stay with me, mingi. come on, you promised me food, remember? you can’t back out now,” you tell him panicking. 

mingi smiles faintly, his voice barely a whisper, “are… are the passengers safe?”

you feel tears begin to build up in your eyes, “yeah. they’re safe. you did it.”

yunho arrives, climbing over the other side of the tracks after having helped the passengers and contacted the association. what was a look of relief turns into sheer horror as he sees mingi’s condition. 

“mingi! no, no, no!” he drops to his knees in front of his friend and beside you, trying desperately to heal him, but it’s too late. 

“take care of her. and… don’t let each other skip any meals.” with one final breath, mingi goes still. 

yunho lets out a loud sob, screaming into the sky as he calls out to mingi, his best friend. “mingi! no! please!” 

you sit silently in front of mingi, tears streaming down your face as you stare at your blood-covered hands. you look up to see a lone crow circling above them, its caw echoing in the still morning air.

ACT III: WINTER IS COMING

daegu district – funeral hall - day

the room is quiet, filled with somber faces and the scent of white lilies. a framed photo of mingi rests at the front, surrounded by wreaths from both family, friends, the hero association, and mingi’s fans. yunho and hongjoong stand near the back, dressed in black suits, their expressions tense and heavy. 

yunho’s jaw is tight as he glances towards mingi’s parents at the front of the hall. his mother dabs a handkerchief at her eyes, while his father gaze stays locked on the floor, one hand around his wife’s shoulder and the other clenched into a fist at his side. 

“have you talked to them yet?” yunho asks, whispering to hongjoong.

“no,” hongjoong says flatly. yunho frowns but doesn’t press further.

daegu district – outside funeral hall – after the service

the crowd slowly began to thin, eventually leaving only yunho, hongjoong, and mingi’s parents. the four stand in the funeral home’s quiet garden. tension hangs thick in the air as mingi’s father finally speaks.

“you have some nerve showing your faces here,” mr. song spits out angrily at the two heroes. 

yunho steps forward, his voice steady but strained. “we’re here to pay our respects.” 

“respects?” mrs. song’s voice trembles with bitterness as she talks, “is that what you call this? he’s dead because of you.”

yunho flinches, but hongjoong doesn’t react, his expression unreadable. 

mr. song points an accusing finger towards yunho, “you dragged him into this – into being a hero. if it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive.” 

yunho’s hands ball into fists, but he keeps his tone measured. “mingi chose to become a hero because he wanted to make a difference. he believed in what we were doing.” 

“and look where it got him! he should have stayed here, with us, where he was safe. but no, he had to go off chasing some foolish dream and get himself killed!” his mother snarled. the words cut deep, but yunho refused to back down. 

“he wasn’t chasing a foolish dream. he was trying to protect people – people like you.”

mr. song steps forward, his face contorted with more rage than grief, “don’t you dare try to justify this to us. you think we care about your excuses? our son is gone, and it’s your fault!”

before yunho can respond, hongjoong bows deeply, his head low. “you’re right. this is our fault. we failed him, and for that, we’re sorry.”

the gesture catches everyone off guard, including yunho. 

mingi’s mother scoffs, her voice cold as she sneers at hongjoong and his action, “sorry? what good is sorry? it won’t bring him back. just leave. both of you.”

hongjoong straightens, his face blank, and nods. without another word, he turns and begins 

daegu district – outside funeral hall – late afternoon

the two walk in silence, the weight of the encounter pressing down on them. finally, yunho breaks the silence. 

“why did you do that?” he asks his captain angrily. 

hongjoong doesn’t look at him, his voice quiet but firm. “because it’s what they needed to hear.” 

“they needed to hear the truth! that mingi was a hero, that he died protecting people! not some empty apology that makes it sound like we didn’t care!” yunho says, feeling all his emotions about to explode out of him. 

hongjoong stops abruptly, turning to face yunho. “you think i don’t care?” he says, voice rising, “you think this doesn’t tear me apart, too?”

yunho glares at him, emotions continuing to boil over. “then why do you always act like nothing touches you? like you don’t feel anything?” 

“because someone has to keep it together. someone has to be the one to face people like them and take the blame if it means they get even a shred of peace.”

yunho’s anger falters, replaced by a flicker of understanding. “you don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know,” yunho says quietly. 

hongjoong exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “i know, but it’s easier this way.” they stand in silence for a moment, the tension easing slightly. 

“mingi wouldn’t want us to be like this. he’d want us to look out for each other,” yunho says softly. 

hongjoong nods, gaze distant, “you’re right.”

the two continue walking as the sun begins to set. side by side, the tension between them slowly fading along with an unspoken promise of healing lingering between them.

seoul district – living room – night 

a group of older adults sit around a fireplace, glasses of wine in hand. laughter fills the room as they exchange words and stories. one of them, a well-dressed man in 50s, leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink. 

“you know, our little girl’s been reading college-level texts since she was eight. smart as a whip, that one!” he says and his wife next to him smiles. 

“she’s going to take the hero association to new heights, i’m sure of it. honestly, we couldn’t be prouder – even if she isn’t… well, you know.”

“adopted or not, she’s clearly got your drive,” the other woman says. 

“yes, it's a shame that she suffers from a strange condition, not being able to go outside during the day though hasn’t killed her drive though,” the first man said. the group laughs and continues their chatter, their voices a warm hum against the crackling fire. 

seoul district – home library – night

upstairs, a young girl, no older than thirteen, stands in a room with the walls lined with towering bookshelves. the room is softly lit, casting shadows across the spines of ancient tomes and leather-bound books. the girl’s small hands flip through a dense book written in an unfamiliar language. 

her attention sharpens as she scans the pages, her lips forming silent words, able to follow along easily with the unfamiliar script. a faint breeze causes the sheer curtains on the balcony doors to sway, though the night outside is still. 

the balcony doors creak open, a tall figure steps inside, his movements measured and deliberate. yeonjun enters, bowing low as the curtains blow around him. 

“lady nicha,” yeonjun’s voice is low and respectful. the complete opposite of what it was during his fight with mingi. 

the girl turns slowly, her youthful face serene, yet unnervingly cold. her dark eyes flash a vivid, burning red, illuminating her face for an instant before fading back to normal. she tilts her head, studying him like he was a mere insect to her.

“you’re late,” her voice, mature and calm, is the complete opposite of her youthful and innocent appearance. 

“i came as quickly as i could,” he keeps his head low as he speaks. eyes staying towards the floor and not daring to look at the girl in front of him. 

nicha closes the book with soft thud, even so a ripple of air rushes through the room due to her single action. though her stature is small, the air around her is suffocating, charged with unlimited power. 

“report.”

yeonjun straightens but keeps his gaze averted, respectfully. “the train mission was… partially successful. the hero mingi is dead.”

nicha’s expression remains unchanged, her eyes unblinking as she continues to stare at yeonjun. waiting for him to continue with his report. 

he hesitates for a moment before continuing, “but the other hero and the female villain survived.” the room grows deathly silent at his words. 

“didn’t i tell you to kill all of them?” nicha’s voice is soft, yet menacing. the air ripples with an unseen force. the books on the shelves around them tremble. 

“the sun was rising soon. i couldn’t stay much longer. if i had—

a sudden deafening crack interrupts him as the windows behind him shatter. shards of glass explode and fly inward. yeonjun doesn’t flinch, though his shoulders tense. the glass hovers mid-air for a split second before raining down on the floor. 

the room itself seems to quake, the walls vibrating faintly under nicha’s silent fury. she steps towards yeonjun, her bare feet crunching softly against the scattered glass. she doesn’t flinch as the glass shards pierce her feet. 

“excuses,” she spits, voice low and full of venom. yeonjun swallows hard but remains rooted in place, his eyes fixed on the ground. unmoving. 

nicha then tilts her head, like a curious child, “do you think i care about the sun? or your limits?” her voice echoes unnaturally through the room. reverberating as if spoken by many voices at once. 

yeonjun struggles to maintain his composure, “it won’t happen again. i’ll finish the job.” nicha’s lips curve into a faint smile, though her eyes and the smile itself remains devoid of warmth. 

“no, it won’t.” the tension in the air snaps as quickly as it rose. nicha turns away from yeonjun, dismissing him with a flick of her hand. “leave.”

yeonjun hesitates for a fraction of a second before bowing deeply and retreating. he steps carefully through the broken glass, his movements eerily silent. the balcony doors close behind him, and nicha turns back to her book. she resumes where she left off, her expression as calm as if nothing had happened. 

ateez compound – common room – night

the compound is unusually quiet. the common room feels colder than usual, the air heavy with grief. jongho, wooyoung, and yeosang sit together on the couch. none of them speak for a while, each lost in their thoughts. 

“it doesn’t feel real,” wooyoung says softly, finally breaking the silence. 

jongho, sitting with his elbows on his knees, nods but doesn’t lift his head. “i keep thinking he’s going to walk through the door. make some dumb joke about how we’re all too serious,” he says quietly. 

yeosang leans back, staring at the ceiling, voice distant and solemn, “he always made it look so easy. like no matter how bad things got, he’d figure it out.” 

wooyoung lets out a shaky laugh, but it’s devoid of humor, “that’s because he was stubborn as hell. he hated giving up on anything.” 

there’s a brief silence as the three exchange a look. despite their different temperaments, the loss of mingi has brought them closer in their unfortunate shared grief. 

“we should’ve been there,” jongho says, voice full of regret. 

yeosang shakes his head at the youngest’s words, “we can’t think like that. it’s not what he’d want,” yeosang’s voice is soft but firm. 

wooyoung’s eyes glisten, but he blinks them away, refusing to let the tears fall. “he was family. all of us… we’re family, right?” he asks, staring at his hands. 

jongho and yeosang both nod, their faces set with quiet determination. yeosang looks at the both of them, “and family sticks together. no matter what.”

ateez compound – infirmary – night

the sterile, white walls of the infirmary feel suffocating. you sit on the edge of the bed, side bandaged, but face still pale from the results of the last mission. the faint sound of the compound’s hum buzzes in the background and slowly in your mind. you stare out the window, moonlight illuminating your face. 

your eyes are hollow, expression distant. one hand absentmindedly touches the bandages on your abdomen. “i should’ve done more,” you whisper to yourself. 

a single tear escapes, sliding down your cheek. suddenly, your nose begins to bleed. you wipe it quickly with the back of your hand, frowning. your eyes immediately snap to the infirmary door, watching as san steps into the room, carrying a small tray with supplies. 

“i figured you’d still be awake,” he says, sitting down beside her. 

“i can’t sleep,” you say in reply, softly. san places the tray on the side table, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. 

“no one blames you, y/n,” he says quietly.

your jaw tightens, and you look away, voice trembling, “that’s a lie. either way… i blame me.” 

san reaches out, hand hovering near yours before pulling back. “you fought harder than anyone else could’ve in your condition.” 

“it wasn’t enough! mingi’s gone because i wasn’t strong enough to stop that bastard!” your voice cracks, and a faint glow of your powers flickers around your fingers. the air in the room becomes momentarily heavy. san tenses but stays calm. 

“y/n,” he calls out to her, soft but firm. the sound of his voice pulls you back, and the glow dissipates. you exhale shakily, guilt washing over you.

“i’m sorry,” you say quietly. 

“you don’t have to apologize.” there’s a long silence before san gestures to the bandages on her abdomen. “let me change those for you.” 

you hesitate but eventually nod, lifting the hem of your shirt to reveal the bloodstained bandages underneath. san’s fingers brush against your skin as he helps you take your shirt off before he carefully unwraps the bandages, his touch gentle but precise. the intimacy isn’t lost for either of you. you watch him closely, the room growing quieter as the tension between you builds. 

“does it hurt?” he asks, glancing up at you. 

“not as much as it did before,” you tell him softly. 

san chuckles faintly, his voice low, “you’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.”

his fingers linger for a moment over your wound, his finger edging around the stitches some agent from the association had done when they arrived at the derailment site. you feel your breath caught in your chest when you feel him push down on the stitches. like he was testing the durability of your stitches. you feel your heart begin to pound in your chest the more he presses down. 

“san…” you manage out, his eyes flicker up to meet your own. 

“does that hurt?” he asks, eyes never yours, fingers pressing down into your wound. 

“a little…” you trail off, feeling the sting begin to build up. as the pain from his touch begins to spread, you feel a certain heat also begin to spread over you. the pain and heat mixing in your body making your heart jump in your chest, breath hitching. 

your hand comes up to grab a fistful of san’s shirt when you feel your stitches finally giving out. a gasp leaves your lips, but san muffles any remaining sounds that want to escape. his lips pressing to yours in an open mouth, tongue abusing yours as two of his fingers jab into your wound – into you. 

san’s mouth trails from your mouth and down your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your skin. he trails his tongue over your jaw and down your throat where he meets your death collar. you hear grumbled over the collar before skipping over and continuing down. he meets your lips again when you pull him back up to kiss you, his fingers teasingly moving in and out of your wound. 

the pain making your moan and clench your eyes shut, jaw clenched, san is panting heavily in your ear like a dog in heat at the feeling of your insides. 

“f-fuck,” he pants out, you cringe at the lewd, wet sounds your wound and his fingers are making together. you feel a little embarrassed about it, but the way he reacts makes the heat from your core reappear – as if it even disappeared. you’re just as sick as he is, you think to yourself. your hand comes down to his crotch, palming the noticeable tent in his pants. san lets out a moan, lips crushing yours when your hands travels inside his pants and grabs his cock. 

your tongues do a wild dance, spit running down your chins as his free hand grips your hair and keeps your head in place. the sting from his grip mixed with penetration of your wound sends a pleasurable wave over your body. your hand gives san’s tip a squeeze making him thrust up into your hand. 

“fuckfuckfuck,” san pants out, as you feel him curl his fingers, “feels so good,” he adds, eyes glazed over with a look of lust. 

“s-san,” you moan out as you suddenly both his hands are moving, his left fingers covered in blood that he spreads over the expanse of your body as he moves you to lay down. you let go of his cock, eyes watching as it stands red and angry at being let go. precum beads at the top of his tip trailing down the length of it and the sight makes you even more hornier than you were. 

blood begins to run out of your newly open wound, but san effortlessly uses his powers to stop it. how convenient. you let out a small wince when he bends you in half, yanking your pants and underwear to your knees. “sorry– can’t wait,” he rushes out as you feel his tip rub between your folds that were already slick and easily helping him slip inside of you.  

the two of you let out a string of moans as san enters you, his cock stretching you out and there’s a slight sting to his stretch. only thanks to not having him inside you for the past several months. you honestly were starting to forget how good it felt to have him inside you. san immediately begins to thrusts inside of you, holding onto your legs as leverage. 

“fuck– i forgot how good this pussy is,” he hisses out as his cock hits your g-spot, over and over again. you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling, mouth hanging open and moans spilling into the air. the lewd wet sounds from just moments ago, return as san continues to fuck your pussy. your wetness smearing up your thighs and over your ass as his pace doesn’t stop once he finally found a good pace. 

“damn infirmary beds… too fuckin’ small,” he spits out as one of his legs almost fall off the side from how he tries to spread you out more. you feel the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot, head thrown back you feel your climax continue to build up. 

“s-s-san-nie! i’m close!” you tell him, you feel his fingers digging into the backs of thighs as he begins to drill into you with his cock. if you weren’t getting your insides rearranged then you would have been worried about the infirmary bed. thankfully, san’s powers have to do with blood and not strength. 

however, his natural strength was nothing to laugh about. 

you let out a choked sob as you feel yourself coming. san sheathes himself deep inside of you as he also comes. his thick cum painting your walls and even dripping out as san tries to fuck it back into you. he pulls out, running the head and base of his cock between your creamy folds, watching with a daze expression. 

you let a hiss of pain out when your orgasm subsides and the pain from your open wound begins to overtake you. 

san seems to snap out of it as he’s quickly fixing himself and you. he looks at your wound, gently touching it, his fingers still coated in your now dried blood. 

“let me fix you up,” he says, grabbing what he needs and begins to patch up your wound. “there,” he says softly once your wound is closed once more. 

“san…” you say quietly as you sit up. his eyes meet yours, expression unreadable now, but filled with something. 

“does it still hurt?” he asks softly, reaching over to grab new bandages and you shake your head. “good,” he adds, wrapping the new bandages around your abdomen. 

“thanks,” you tell him when he’s done and finally help you put your shirt back on. the earlier mood seemingly settling back between the two of you. mind racing as you think back to how if you had been stronger than you won’t have suffered the wounds you did. you could’ve helped mingi and maybe he would still be here.

“you don’t have to carry this alone,” he tells you softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blink, tears welling up again. 

“i… i don’t know how to move forward,” you confess. san places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against your collarbone. 

“one step at a time. me and seonghwa… we’ll be there with you. for you,” he says, your faces inches apart. the tension between you both is almost visible. neither of you move, the moment hanging in the air before you look away, breaking the spell. 

“thank you.”

san doesn’t respond, but his hand lingers on your shoulder for a moment longer before he pulls away. the two of you sit in silence, the weight of your grief and unspoken emotions filling the room.

ateez compound – common room – day

the compound has become quieter the last few days, somber stillness that reflected the weight of mingi’s death. you sat alone at the kitchen table, which was connected into the common room, staring at the half-empty cup of tea in front of you. the guilt you had been feeling was unbearable. a constant ache in your chest that refused to fade. you replayed the moment over and over again, mind torturing you with the what-ifs. 

wooyoung leaned against the wall nearby, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. every so often his sharp gaze would flicker over to you, who remained unmoving. the tension between them and the rest of the team had been simmering for days, about ready to boil over at any second. 

“you’re really just sitting there?” he finally asked, voice low but cutting. you chose not to respond to him. fingers tightening around the mug instead. “answer me!” wooyoung snapped, stepping closer. now in the kitchen area. “do you feel anything? mingi is dead! and you’re sitting here like it’s just another day!”

you flinched slightly at his words, guilt twisting even tighter, but before you could muster a reply, san stood abruptly from his spot by the other large window in the common room. “that’s enough, wooyoung,” he says, his voice full of warning and danger, not to mention laced with a certain coldness. 

“enough? are you kidding me?” wooyoung sounds offended by san’s words, his eyes blazing as he directs his attention to san. “mingi died because of her! if she hadn't been so–

“don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence,” san cuts him off, stepping close until they were just nearly nose-to-nose with each other. his fists clenched at his sides, just barely able to restrain himself from punching the hero. “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“i know exactly what i’m talking about,” wooyoung shot back. “she’s clearly a liability. always has been since day one, and now mingi’s gone because of it. i’m surprised yunho isn’t dead too because of her.”

“wooyoung, stop!” yeosang tries to step in, but he was immediately drowned out by the argument. 

san’s jaw tightened, “mingi’s death isn’t her fault. she risked her life to save those passengers and was injured because of that demon. how was she supposed to know an even stronger one was going to show up right after? huh? tell me that.”

wooyoung let out a bitter laugh, one full of anger and disbelief. “you always defend her, don’t you? no matter what she does, you’re always there to protect her. i thought she was one the world’s worst villains, can she not protect herself?”

“and you’re always looking for someone to blame,” san retorts, “mingi wouldn’t want this – wouldn’t want you tearing the team apart because you can’t deal with your grief and personal issues! you’ve been hostile since day one, wooyoung, don’t you have anything else better to do than be this petty?”

wooyoung’s hands balled into fists, elements of fire and ice sparking off both hands, “don’t you dare talk to me about grief! at least i actually cared about mingi. at least i–

“enough!” jongho’s voice echoes through the room as he steps between them, shoving them apart with a firm grip on each of their shoulders. “both of you stop this right now. fighting each other won’t bring him back.” 

san shrugs jongho’s hand off with a huff as he reluctantly steps back. wooyoung scowled but didn’t push further; however, the anger in his eyes didn’t fade. from across the room, seonghwa, who had been silent observing, finally spoke. 

“this isn’t helping anyone. least of all mingi.” 

wooyoung muttered something under his breath that no one caught before storming out of the common room. his footsteps echoing through the hallway. 

yeosang, who had also been watching quietly, approached you. he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his expression soft as you look up at him with tired eyes. “come on. let’s get out of here for a bit,” he says quietly. you hesitate for a moment before nodding, face pale and drawn from watching san and wooyoung as you let yeosang guide you out of the room. you both walked in silence down the corridor, tension still heavy in the air for everyone. 

“don’t let him get to you,” yeosang says eventually, his voice calm but firm. he does his best in trying to assure you. 

you stopped walking and leaned against the wall, hands trembling. “he’s right, though,” you whispered. “i failed. i couldn’t save mingi.” 

yeosang shook his head, his hands gently coming to support yours, “you did what you could. none of this is your fault, and if it wasn’t for you there would have been a lot more casualties. you did a good thing.” 

tears began to well up in your eyes as you listened to speak, despite trying to blink them away. “it feels like my fault. every time i close my eyes, i see him. he fought so hard, we were supposed to get something to eat after the mission. he promised.” 

yeosang leaned against the wall beside you, his presence steady and grounding. “we’ve all lost people, y/n. but you don’t have to carry this by yourself. you’ve got us to help you through this. we are all figuring this out, together.” 

you looked up at him, vision blurry with tears, yet you still managed a small, grateful smile, “thank you, yeosang.” 

before he could respond, jongho comes rushing down the corridor, expression tense. you don’t think you’ve seen jongho look like this, not since when you first met him a few months ago. “someone’s approaching the compound,” he says breathlessly. 

you and yeosang exchanged a look before you are following after jongho to the main entrance. wooyoung is already there, fists clenched and fire and ice seeping off his fingers. he’s ready just in case. 

then you see them. a long figure staggered closer, silhouette weak and unsteady. it was a young woman. as she came closer, you could tell the three heroes immediately recognized her. she had to be a fellow hero. 

“it’s winter,” yeosang says, eyes flickering over to meet yours. like he was filling you in on who this was. winter? you think you’ve heard that name being tossed around before when you were still in prison. some of the male villains idolizing her, having crushes on her despite her being a hero and them villains.

winter’s uniform was torn and soaked with blood, her face pale and bruised as she nearly collapsed at the entrance. you can’t help but notice how despite her torn uniform and injuries, the light pink shawl with stars on it remained… almost untouched as it draped around her arms. jongho and yeosang rushed over to support her, each of them taking an arm to help steady her as they carefully helped her inside. 

“my team…” winter began to say, her voice weak and trembling as she let out a small gasp, “we were attacked. a-a villain– demon, i don’t know what it was. they’re all dead! i’m– i’m the only one who made it out,” she tells you all, tears beginning to build up in her eyes. 

wooyoung frowned at the news, “you can stay here until hongjoong and yunho get back. they’ll know what to do.” 

you watch as winter’s gaze swept the room before she immediately caught her breath, eyes narrowing when they landed on you, san, and seonghwa. “i didn’t think the rumors were true. that the hero association made you work with villains,” she said, her tone in clear disdain at you and your two lovers. 

you looked away, eyes moving over your team. yeosang looked slightly surprised by her words while jongho, seonghwa, and wooyoung – surprisingly – remained neutral. san; however, looked at winter with a match of disdain, his eyes narrowing on her. like he was trying to figure her out. 

“especially her,” you heard winter say, you snapped your attention back to her, her eyes boring right into you, “everyone knows how dangerous she is.” 

“watch your fucking mouth,” san snapped, his voice sharp and glare icy as he stepped forward. 

“san,” wooyoung’s tone is one of warning, “don’t start.” 

“i’m not starting anything,” he shot back, “but i’m not going to stand here and listen to some crap nonsense.” 

“nonsense?” winter scoffed, “she’s a clear liability. i’m surprised the association even let her out.”

“enough!” san’s voice booms through the room, silencing winter who stares at the villain in shock, “you don’t know anything about her.” he hisses, pointing a finger at her in warning. 

but then wooyoung steps up, “and you don’t know what to back off,” he counters, stepping closer to san. “you’re so blinded by your feelings for her that you can’t see the truth. is her pussy really that good?”

before anyone could react, san punches wooyoung which in turn sends the hero stumbling back and falling to the ground. blood drips from wooyoung’s nose, jaw clenched as he turns to look back at san. 

“say that again, wooyoung. i fucking dare you,” san’s fist are still clenched, waiting for wooyoung to once again run his mouth. 

wooyoung stands up, blood smearing across his face as he attempts to wipe it away, but before he could do anything further with san, yeosang steps between them. “guys, stop!” his voice is sharper and more commanding than you have ever heard from the usually soft-spoken hero. “we have more important things to deal with right now, and none of them involve fighting each other.” 

seonghwa comes and places a calming hand on san’s shoulder, his voice low, “let’s go.” 

san hesitates, his gaze landing on wooyoung before turning and lingering on winter for a moment before turning away. “this isn’t over,” he mutters, allowing seonghwa to guide him and you out of the room. 

as you walked away, you notice san glancing over his shoulder, eyes narrowing once more. you know he was suspicious about winter, something clearly not sitting right with him about her. but he didn’t say anything to either you or seonghwa. keeping his thoughts to himself, you couldn’t deny the sense of unease settled around you three. 

ateez compound – common room – few days later

the atmosphere in the compound had grown overwhelmingly thick with tension over the past several days. winter, oblivious to the tension she was causing, settled into a room and easily integrated herself into the team’s space. her injuries healed surprisingly fast, and she often roamed the halls, stopping sometimes to exchange casual remarks with her fellow heroes. 

wooyoung, for one, didn’t seem to mind her presence. spending more time with her than anyone else has, sharing meals or discussing tactics. he calms he just wants her to feel welcomed, but yeosang tells you he thinks otherwise. winter’s willingness to integrate herself so quickly, barely mourning the grief of her teammates, made san’s suspicions grow with each passing day.

“she’s not who she says she is,” san muttered under his breath during a meeting in the common area. you had chosen to stay in your room, shutting yourself away from everyone. the absence of mingi and the growing tension making you unable to tolerate being in the same room as the others. wooyoung especially. 

wooyoung let out a dramatic sigh, slamming his cup down on the table. “for the last time, san, she’s a hero! she’s on our side!” 

“and you’re so sure of that?” san shoots back, voice low but clearly full of distrust. “she just shows up, conveniently alive after her entire team is killed, and we’re supposed to believe she’s fine?” 

“what’s your problem, huh?” wooyoung counters, standing up from his chair. “are you mad because someone else is able to see how much of a liability you two and y/n are? that you should’ve stayed in prison to rot?”

san’s eyes darkened, his collar digging into his skin, and his fists clenched at his sides, “don’t you dare bring seonghwa and y/n into this.” 

“oh, i’ll bring them into this,” wooyoung says, stepping closer and voice rising. “you’re so suspicious of winter, yet ever since the three of you joined, the number of demon attacks have also increased! and how convenient that when y/n is sent on a mission there’s not one, but two demons from the twelve moons that show up! how is that not suspicious!”

seonghwa, who had been silently observing from the corner, finally speaks up, “both of you, enough. arguing isn’t going to help anything, especially when we need to be a team more than ever.”

“she’s dangerous,” san says through gritted teeth, pointing towards the hallway where winter had disappeared moments ago. 

“and you’re paranoid,” wooyoung snaps back, brushing past san as he leaves the room. 

san exhaled sharply, jaw tight as he sat back down, his mind racing with uneasy thoughts. jongho who had stood at the front of the room let out an annoyed sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“great meeting everybody, glad we got things accomplished,” he says sarcastically.

ateez compound – y/n’s room – ████

your room was shrouded in a heavy stillness, the air thick with the weight of your grief. the blinds were tightly shut, casting the space in darkness. you lay curled up in your bed, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the blank wall. your heart ached with the guilt that continuously gnawed at you, an endless replay of mingi’s final moments in your mind. it was fucking awful. 

a soft knock broke through the silence, but you didn’t respond. had you even heard the knock in the first place?

the door creaked open, and seonghwa stepped inside, carrying a tray of food. his footsteps are quiet as he nears you, as if he understood the weight of the room and how it demanded silence. 

“y/n,” seonghwa’s voice is soft, laced with concern, “you need to eat.”

“i’m not hungry,” you reply, voice hoarse and barely audible. 

seonghwa sighed, setting the tray down on the bedside table before making his way over to the blinds and turning them just a hair to where light was shining in. the room now shrouded in a form of twilight. seonghwa lowers himself onto the edge of your bed. his gaze gentle but insistent, even if you can’t see him. your back facing him, you remain unmoving. 

“you’ve been in here for days. yeosang is worried. we all are,” he tells you, but you know that’s not the case. wooyoung surely isn’t and jongho just chooses to remain… neutral. you know hongjoong would have already killed you if he was here. it felt like a countdown just waiting for him and yunho to return. 

you chose not to respond, gaze fixed on the same spot on the wall. the silence stretched between the two of you, heavy and unyielding. 

without a word, seonghwa shifted closer. he reached out, his hand tentative and slow as he carefully reached up to brush some hair away from your face. his touch was warm, grounding. you didn’t deserve it. “y/n,” he murmured, voice breaking slightly. “please, don’t shut me out,” you feel your heart clenched. 

you eventually turned your head to look at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i failed him,” you whispered, voice trembling. “if i hadn’t been injured in that fight with yena then i could’ve saved him.” 

seonghwa’s heart twists at hearing the anguish in your voice. he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms. you tried to resist for a moment before giving up, collapsing against him, burying your face in his chest. 

“you didn’t fail him,” he said softly, voice steady despite the emotions threatening to spill over. “you did everything you could.” 

“i could’ve stopped that bastard, seonghwa. i could’ve– 

you cut your own self off as the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. body shaking as the tears began to soak through seonghwa’s shirt. 

“no,” he says, tone firm but gentle. he titled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “you couldn’t have known. you couldn’t have done anything differently. don’t let this guilt consume you, y/n. you saved all those people on that train from that demon. you did something.” 

you stared at him, tears spilling over as your lips quivered. “i feel like i’m drowning,” you confessed, voice barely a whisper. “i can’t breathe. i can’t… i can’t do this.”

seonghwa’s arms tighten around you, his forehead knocking gently against yours. “you’re not alone,” he said, voice shaking slightly. “you hear me? you’re not alone in this. i’m here, san’s here, yeosang even. and i’ll always be here.” 

your sobs grew louder, emotions spiralling out of control. the room around you both began to shift. the walls ripped like waves, furniture flickered in and out of existence, and the air seemed to hum with an unnatural energy. 

seonghwa noticed but didn’t falter. he held you tighter, attempting to ground you with his presence. “breathe with me,” he whispers, voice soothing. “in and out. just focus on me.” 

you clung to seonghwa as if he were your lifeline, your ragged breaths slowly matching his steady rhythm. gradually, the room settled. the walls returned to their solid state, the flickering ceased, and the unnatural energy faded away. 

you pulled away slightly, face streaked with tears. “i’m scared,” you confessed, voice unstable as you continued. “i’m scared of losing control and hurting people i care about.”

seonghwa cups your face with his hands, thumb gently wiping the tears away. “you’re stronger than you think,” he tells you, voice filled with a quiet sureness. “you’ve been through so much and you’re still here. still fighting. that’s what matters most.” 

you feel your lower lip tremble as you search his eyes, finding only unwavering support and affection. unwavering love. “i don’t know if i can continue doing this alone,” you admitted softly. 

“and you won’t,” he tells you, “you have us. you have me.” 

for the first time in days, you feel a flicker of something other than guilt and grief. hope, perhaps? you let out a shaky breath and rest your forehead against his once again. “thank you,” you whisper, voice full of raw emotions and eyes looking at him with sincerity. 

seonghwa smiles soft, his arms still wrapped around you, “always,” he tells you, leaning over to pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

you felt your breathing steady and tears finally stop, you allowed yourself to lean into him, feeling the weight of your grief just ever so slightly begin to lift. it was good to be reminded that seonghwa was here – san too – and that you weren’t alone. 

ateez compound – winter’s room – night

winter walks down the quiet corridor, her footsteps light and measured as the compound has settled into its usual nightly rhythm. her expression remains neutral, composed – a perfect mask of calm that easily hid the storm beneath. each step brought her closer to her room, where she knew she could let her guard down for a moment. 

she pushed the door open with a soft creaked sound. her hand instinctively reaches for the light switch, but she immediately freezes. 

someone was sitting on her bed. 

the faint light from the hallway cast a silhouette that is both commanding and terrifying. lady nicha.

the door closes behind winter as she immediately drops to both knees, bowing deeply, her head pressed against the cold floor. her voice was steady as she spoke, “lady nicha, i wasn’t expecting you.”

the air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves bowed to nicha’s presence. she sat clearly relaxed on the edge of the bed, her posture deceptively casual, but her eyes shined with a predatory sharpness. she tapped her painted, burgundy fingers against her knee. each movement deliberate, echoing in the tense silence. 

“rise,” she then commands, voice smooth yet still laced with authority that left no room for discussion. 

winter raised her body off the ground, still kneeling with her head slightly bowed. her star-patterned shawl shimmering in the moonlight that peeked into the room. “such a disguise you have,” nicha says, voice tilted with fake amusement.

nicha’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. “you’ve done well, wonyoung,” she purred, her voice a mix of praise and menace. “to think, they’ve welcomed you so easily and trusted you. allowed you to even sow discord among them, but, ah, i guess that part wasn’t so hard considering their distrust among each other.”

wonyoung tilted her head, her expression one of pride, “it’s as you planned, my lady. the seeds of doubt and tension are starting to blossom. they’re starting to fray at the edges.” 

nicha stood, the air around her growing heavier still. she approached wonyoung, her presence overwhelming. each step she took seemed to dim the light in the room, shadows pooling at her feet and seemed to have a mind of their own. “good,” she said, voice low and deliberate, “but your work is far from over.” 

wonyoung met her gaze for a moment, unwavering despite the oppressive and powerful aura that surrounded nicha. “what would you have me do, my lady?”

“take them out,” she says, tone sharp as a blade. “one by one, if you must. but the female villain, y/n…” she pauses, her eyes narrowing, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “she must suffer. break her and her power will surely destroy the rest.” 

wonyoung nodded, her expression determined, “i won’t fail you.” 

nicha’s smile widened, though it held no warmth. she raised a hand, her fingers brushing wonyoung’s cheek in a mockery of affection. the action, nonetheless, still sent a chill down wonyoung’s spine. “see that you don’t. i have no use for failures.”

the room seemed to pulse with nicha’s presence, the walls vibrating faintly as if the very fabric of reality bent to her will. “remember, child,” she continued, her voice a whisper that felt like a scream to wonyoung. “my power is what allowed you to stand here. do not make me regret granting it to you.” 

wonyoung bowed her head again, voice firm, “i will not disappoint you, lady nicha.”

nicha laughed softly, a sound that sent more shivers down wonyoung’s spine. “good,” she said, her form beginning to dissolve into the shadows that slowly gathered around her. “then go, prove yourself worthy of the power i’ve bestowed upon you.”

with her final words echoing inside the room, nicha’s presence dissolved, leaving the room eerily still. the oppressive weight lifted, but her dominance remained a lingering sense. like a phantom hand clutched wonyoung’s throat, reminding her to not fail. 

then, as the last traces of  nicha’s aura faded, wonyoung straightened up, standing up from the ground as her face hardened. “y/n,” she mumbled, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. “let’s see if you’re as strong as they say you are.” 

with a resolute breath, she turned in order to begin preparing for the next phase of her plan. nicha’s commands echoing in her mind, a constant reminder for the price of failure. failure that wasn’t an option for her.

ateez compound – common room – the next afternoon 

the morning light streamed from the compound’s windows and into the common room where jongho and yeosang were. a faint buzz from jongho’s phone interrupted their conversation, which leads him to glancing at the device before quickled opening the message. 

“what is it?” yeosang asks, noticing the subtle tension in jongho’s shoulders. 

“it’s from hongjoong,” jongho replied, voice low. “i told him and yunho about winter being here and what she said happened to her team.”

yeosang frowns, “do you think it's about that?”

jongho didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fully focused on the message as he read it. yeosang notes his face slowly drain of color, hand tightening around the phone. yeosang is afraid the younger hero is going to crush the device if he doesn’t let up. 

“jongho?” yeosang says, his concern growing. “what does it say?”

jongho hesitates, swallowing the lump that forms in his throat, voice with an unusual tremble as he replies, “they found her team… what was left of the bodies were recovered.”

yeosang’s brows furrowed at the news, “that’s awful, but why do you–

“winter’s body was found with them,” jongho cuts him off, voice shaking. 

a chilling silence falls between them, the weight of jongho’s words sinking in. yeosang’s eyes widened in disbelief, “what?”

jongho hands him the phone, letting him read the message himself, “hongjoong says we need to be careful. whoever’s here with us isn’t winter.”

“we need to tell the others now,” yeosang says, despite his mind racing at the sudden thought of potential danger within their own compound. 

jongho nodded, his expression grim as they split up. 

ateez compound – outside training grounds – afternoon 

you sat outside of the compound, enjoying the quietness of nature, but still trying to process everything that has happened over the past few days. your eyes flickered up towards the sky where you saw several crows flying around in a circle. five crows to be exact. their cawing sends a chill down your spine for reasons you can’t quite explain.

odd, you think to yourself. the last time you saw a crow was right after mingi–

the door behind your flies open and you turn to see yeosang running outside towards you. his urgency cutting through the peaceful air. “y/n, we have a problem.”

you meet yeosang halfway, placing a hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“winter isn’t who she says she is. her body was found with her team,” he says, not wasting any time

your eyes widened as you process his words, “you’re saying… she’s an imposter?” san was right then, his suspicions that something wasn’t right with winter were true. 

yeosang nods his head, “yes. hongjoong just sent the intel. whoever’s been with us all this time isn’t winter. we need to act now.”

you looked at yeosang, voice calm but urgent as you spoke, “then let’s move. we can’t let her make the first move. where are the others?”

ateez compound – training room – afternoon

in the training area, seonghwa stood next to winter on the sidelines as he watched san and wooyoung spar. jongho enters the room, heart pounding as he approaches wooyoung. 

“wooyoung,” jongho calls out, trying to keep his voice steady as he gives a cautious look to winter. “i need to talk to you. it’s important.”

wooyoung raised an eyebrow, pausing his sparring. after years of working with jongho, he realized that something was wrong with the youngest. he was nervous despite being able to mask it well for the others in the room. “what’s up?”

“let’s talk somewhere else,” jongho says, glancing at winter out of the corner of his eye. 

winter tilted her head, faint smile playing on her lips, “why can’t you say it here?”

jongho hesitated, but before he could answer, san stepped forward, having also picked up on the shift of jongho’s eyes. san’s own eyes narrowing that the female hero, “maybe he doesn’t want you to hear it.”

winter’s smile faltered, her expression sharpening, “i don’t see why that would be a problem? unless, of course, you’re trying to hide something.” 

san let out a dry laugh, the tension almost touchable at this point, “funny, i was about to say the same thing to you.”

wooyoung stepped between them, his own frustration boiling over, “can you stop? this isn’t the time–

“actually,” jongho interrupts him, voice slightly louder now, “this is the time.” he adds as he takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on his teammate. “winter’s team was found, and so was she. dead.” 

the room fell deathly silent. 

then the sound of an unsettling laughter broke it.

the longer the laugh went, the louder and unsettling it became. all eyes turned to winter, who straightened her entire demeanor. she no longer looked like the hero, but instead her platinum blonde hair turning a pitch black. eyes becoming sharper, more dangerous. what were once brown shifted into an unnatural green, her pupils also shifting to where 상위육 could be clearly read. her once delicate features twisted into a cruel smirk as she looked at the group. 

“well,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery and fake disappointment, “it seems the charade is up.”  

san stepped forward, fists clenched, while wooyoung could only stare in shock and betrayal. jongho then spoke up, voice steady and firm, “get ready! this isn’t over!”

wonyoung’s smirk widened, her confidence unshaken, “oh, i’m counting on it.”

wonyoung’s shawl, now wrapped around her waist appears with a snake-patterned, shoot out from her arms, snapping toward san. the sudden attack forces san to leap back, just narrowly avoiding being impaled. wooyoung stumbles back in shock as the ribbons carve into the wall, leaving deep gashes. 

“she’s a demon!” seonghwa says right as the room erupts into chaos with the ribbons coiling and striking with lethal precision. wonyoung whirls, her snake-like ribbons extending and retracting at her will, smashing training dummies and throwing debris into the air. san ducks under one ribbon and slashes another with his hardened blood. the severed ribbon falling lifelessly to the ground. 

seonghwa turns to both wooyoung and jongho, “go, we’ll handle her!” jongho nods his head, turning towards wooyoung who is clearly hesitating for a moment. jongho grabs the older by the arm pulling him out of the training room. 

“come on, wooyoung, we need to send a message to the association!” wooyoung snaps out of his daze and nods, the two males rushing out and leaving the two villains to take care of the demon. 

“not just any type of demon, too, but a part of the twelve moons,” san says with gritted teeth. “but her upper six status means she should just be child’s play.”

seonghwa moves in from the side, his strikes calculated, but wonyoung twirls gracefully, her ribbons creating a barrier that easily deflects his attacks. she laughs, her voice echoing eerily throughout the room. 

“you think you can defeat me? how adorable.”

one ribbon wraps around san’s arm, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into a wall. he lets out a groan but manages to twist free and lands on his feet just as seonghwa launches a flurry of attacks. his sheer strength blowing through several of wonyoung’s ribbons. the demon’s movements are fluid, almost dance-like, as she dodges and counters. 

“she’s toying with us,” seonghwa says to san. 

“not for long,” he replies before charging forward, his blood shaped into hardened weapons. he slices through one of the ribbons, which recoils with a hiss, but two more easily snap towards him. seonghwa intercepts, his fist catching the ribbon mid-strike and easily ripping it apart. 

“impressive, but let’s see how long you last,” wonyoung purrs. she then slams her hand into the ground, ribbons erupt in every direction, tearing through the floor. san and seonghwa are forced to separate, dodging the onslaught. san sprints along the edge of the room, dodge debris, while seonghwa rushes head on, leaping into the air for higher ground. 

“seonghwa, now!”

seonghwa drives his clawed fist downward towards wonyoung. she blocks with her ribbons, but san takes the opportunity to strike from the side, slicing through another ribbon and grazing her arm. wonyoung hisses in pain, her composure faltering for the first time. 

“you’ll pay for that!” she snaps, her ribbons lash out wildly, one catching seonghwa in the side and throwing him across the room. he crashes into a pile of rubble, groaning in pain. san dodges and weaves, landing another strike on wonyoung, but she quickly retaliates by wrapping a ribbon around his ankle and yanking him off his feet. 

“let… go, damnit!” san swipes his blood through the ribbon, slicing it and rolling to his feet. he and seonghwa regroup, their breathing heavy. “been awhile since we’ve been this out of breath together, huh?” san comments with a smirk making seonghwa roll his eyes. 

wonyoung glares at them, blood trickling from a wound on her forehead, “enough of this!” she extends her arms, ribbons converge into a massive, writing mass above her head. with a deafening crack, she sends it crashing down towards the two villains. they dive in opposite directions, the impact leaving a large crater in the floor. 

“we need to end this now,” seonghwa says, a frown drawn across his face. san nods, his expression grim. they continue to launch several attacks, san striking high while seonghwa goes low. wonyoung struggles to keep up, her movements becoming more erratic as the two villains close in. finally, san manages to land a deathly blow, his blood blade slicing through her neck in one clean cut. 

wonyoung’s head falls from her body and to the floor, her body slumping to the floor on her knees. seonghwa and san are left panting, their bodies fighting to keep up with the fight they just went through. they both look down at the demon’s body, and that’s when they notice that wonyoung’s head and body isn’t disintegrating. 

instead, wonyoung’s head rolls around, body jerking to life as she begins to wail like a child, her voice piercing and unsettling. the sight of her still being alive sends a chill down both villains’ spines. 

“what the–

“this isn’t fair! this isn’t fair!” she wails out, fisting slamming against the ground as fat crocodile tears run down her face. “i was supposed to kill you all! devour you all! oppa, help me! oppa!” 

seonghwa and san freeze, expressions a mix of confusion and horror as they watch wonyoung’s body begin to convulse. her body jerks forward as the sound of flesh tearing fills the air as wonyoung’s back splits open. san is quick to realize another figure was crawling out of her body and jumps straight into action. 

his blade striking down, dusting covers the room as wonyoung’s cries fall silent for a moment. and for a split second san and seonghwa both think he’s managed to kill the new demon. 

“shh, i’m here,” a voice speaks behind both of them. both seonghwa and san whirl around to see the new demon crouched in front of a still sobbing wonyoung. reattaching her head to her body like it was nothing. 

“sunghoon-oppa, it's not fair!” wonyoung cries out as the male demon gives his sister a crooked smile. 

“it’s okay now,” he says, patting her head before standing. his eyes matching wonyoung’s reading 상위육 – upper six – and his expression is hardened. “i’ll take care of them. go handle the others,” he says, addressing wonyoung. wonyoung nods, her ribbons snapping menacingly as she quickly teleports away. 

before either villain can react, sunghoon teleports behind them, his movements too fast to track. “shall we begin?”

san lets out a huff as he grabs seonghwa and rushes out of the training room and into the courtyard of the compound. sunghoon easily follows after them, his body emanating dark, almost snake-like energy. instead of ribbons like wonyoung, sunghoon has dangerous, fang-shaped blades coming out of his forearms.

“you gave up your humanity, was it worth it? becoming a puppet for the villains just to survive?” san asks, eyes narrowing as looks at sunghoon. 

“i didn’t do this for survival,” he replies back coldly, but there’s a faint undertone of pain almost, “i did it to protect my sister. everything i’ve done – every choice i’ve made was to keep her safe.” 

seonghwa steps forward, voice sharp, “and now you’re dragging her into the abyss with you.” 

sunghoon’s smirk falters at seonghwa’s words, “the abyss is kinder than the world that the hero’s call justice. the heroes and their association… they don’t protect anyone. you should know that better than anyone here.”

without warning, sunghoon attacks with his blades clashing against san’s blood. san manages to roll away, sending blood spikes towards the demon who easily dodges them. 

“you talk big, but i don’t see much strength,” san says. 

sunghoon chuckles at san, “you haven’t seen anything yet.” 

sunghoon continues to launch himself at the two villains, his blades clashing and creating sparks as seonghwa and san either parry his attack or dodge them. one of sunghoon’s blades manage to cut against seonghwa’s arm, the male hissing as he looks down at it. 

“his blades are poisonous,” seonghwa hisses out. 

“then we’ll need to hurry up and kill him before the poison kills us,” san says, jaw clenched as he used his blood to create two swords, tossing one to seonghwa who easily catches it with his uninjured arm. the fight only begins to escalate as sunghoon launches a flurry of attacks, twirling in the dance with his blades, glistening with venom, attempting to slice and cut at both san and seonghwa. 

seonghwa trembles, feeling the weight of his injury and battle getting to him. he knew he could never fully control himself when he transform, but seonghwa knew that his monstrous strength would help push them to win against this fight. 

the air around them began to grow colder with a creeping chill that seeped into the bones of both san and sunghoon. san attempted to reach out to seonghwa, but with one shove it sent san flying back and tumbling to the ground. 

“fuck,” he mumbles as he watches seonghwa. his body contorting with an unsettling and sickening sound of sounds cracking as his frame elongated. joints bending in grotesque and inhuman angles. his skin took on a deathly pale, almost translucent hue – it was the complete opposite of his usual sun-kissed skin – veins began to pulse dark and prominent beneath the surface. 

his once calm and calculating expression now twisted into something monstrous, a predator. his teeth sharpened, canines elongating like his body did into jagged points where the sole purpose was to tear at flesh. san felt his heart sink as he continued to watch as seonghwa’s eyes even turned into black voids that looked at every and anything with an unnatural and sick hunger. his fingers stretched, nails hardening into proper, monstrous claws that were just waiting to tear into its next target. 

sunghoon looked at seonghwa’s monstrous form, completely caught off guard and his usual strong facade faded for a moment. “what are you?” he hisses out, “what kind of demon are you?” 

seonghwa responded with a loud roar that sent shockwaves across the area and he lunged at the demon with his large, grotesque form. seonghwa was able to attack sunghoon with his bone-like antlers, slashing into the demon and sending him flying backwards and leaving a deep.

san is able to adjust quickly, using seonghwa’s sudden transformation and attacks as distractions to land more precise strikes.

ateez compound – control room – night 

yeosang lets out a shaky breath as he reached the control room. running over, he begins to type frantically on the condole, sweating beading down his forehead as he attempted to contact both hongjoong and yunho, but also the hero association. suddenly, the glow of the monitor flickers as a shadow looms behind him. he feels his ear twitch as the sound of a faint hiss, wonyoung’s ribbon snakes dart forward like some fanged vipers. 

you burst in, sword slashing through the first set of ribbons before wonyoung can even register that you are in the room. the severed ends writhe on the floor before quickly retracting. the ends you cut off, fell to the floor seemingly turning back into pieces of fabric. 

“go! send the message, yeosang!” you shout to him as you stand between him and wonyoung. hesitates for a moment, looking between you and wonyoung. “now, yeosang!” you shout louder. yeosang nods before quickly sending the message. 

you can hear his ragged breathing, clearly surprised and a little terrified by the demon in front of you both. you turn to look at him for a moment before gesturing towards the door. “be careful,” he whispers before making a bolt for the door. wonyoung’s head tilts as she watches him flee. 

“heroes are so predictable, always running,” she taunts with a hiss. 

you roll your shoulders, sword gripped tightly between your hands, “looks like it's just you and me.”

wonyoung lets out a tsk sound before lunging at you, her ribbons weaving in intricate patterns, each one snapping towards you like a striking snake. you manage to parry most of them with your sword, slicing through some as sparks fly with metal meeting energy. 

“you can’t keep this up forever,” wonyoung says with a smirk. 

“good thing i don’t need forever,” you told her, breathless and through gritted teeth. you roll to the side as a ribbon smashes into the console behind you, shattering the screen. you charge forward, slicing through multiple ribbons, but one catches your ankle, yanking you off balance. 

you land hard, coughing as the wind is knocked out of you. before you can recover, a ribbon snakes around your wrist, picks you up and slams you into the wall. blood trickles from your forehead, some of it running into your eye, but you quickly wipe it away. 

“what’s the matter? too weak to save yourself?” wonyoung asks mockingly, her ribboned snakes almost floating around her like extra arms. you grit your teeth, eyes glowing faintly as you feel your power begin to flare. you channel your energy into your sword, severing the ribbon holding your wrist. 

“you talk too much,” you say fiercely. you lunge again, blade igniting with light. wonyoung retreats, her ribbons forming a barrier around her. you leap, slashing downward with all your strength. the barrier shatters into pieces of limp fabric, and wonyoung stumbles back, clutching a deep wound across her shoulder. 

wonyoung scowls, her ribbons writhing wildly around her, “you’ll regret that!” 

wonyoung summons more ribbons, these even more thick and serpent-like that before, ones with glowing eyes and fangs. they hiss and dart towards you, and you just barely manage to dodge them. one snake grazes your side, tearing through your uniform and leaving a deep, bleeding gash. 

you press your hand against the wound, feeling that the snake had torn through the stitches of your wound and made it even deeper. blood pooling out and staining your clothes a deep burgundy. you let out a small hiss in pain, managing to steady yourself as you look towards wonyoung with narrowed eyes, “i’ve faced worse than you.”

“i can guarantee you’ve never faced someone like me.” 

the fight continues to become more intense, the control room becoming a battlefield of destroyed debris and shredded fabric everywhere. your sword blazes as you cut through the ribboned snakes, but wonyoung is relentless as her snakes continue to regenerate faster than you can destroy them 

jongho and wooyoung rush into the control room, when they arrive they find the place basically destroyed and you on one knee, blade digging into the ground for support. 

wooyoung immediately feels his rage build up, turning to wonyoung who looks at the three with a mocking smile, blood dripping from her wound you had given her earlier. “you lied to us! tricked us!” he says furiously, his fist catching on fire. 

“and you fell for it so easily. how pathetic,” she says, clearly amused by wooyoung’s anger. 

wooyoung begins to charge, but you reach out to grab his arm, stopping him. “don’t let her get in your head. it’s what she wants,” you say weakly. 

wooyoung simply glares at you, ripping his arm out of your grasp like you’re the one with fire powers, “she doesn’t deserve mercy!”

“wooyoung, focus! don’t let your anger get you killed,” jongho snaps.

“oh, how sweet,” wonyoung says with a laugh, “the little team trying so hard to hold it together.” 

you give both wooyoung and jongho a look as you steady yourself, sweat dripping from your forehead and mixing with blood. you can slowly start to feel the blood loss beginning to affect you, but you push forward and ignore it. the three of you quickly begin to attack in unison, combining abilities in order to overwhelm wonyoung. jongho slams his fists into the ground, sending shockwaves that manage to throw the demon off balance. wooyoung sends several fire and ice blasts towards her ribbons, even sending ice shards that pin them to the walls. 

you take advantage of the opening, rushing forward and delivering a deep slash across wonyoung’s abdomen. 

wonyoung lets out a snarl, “you think you’ve won?” her ribbons explode outward, throwing the three of you back. jongho grunts as he takes the brunt of the impact, shielding you and wooyoung. 

“thanks,” you say breathless to jongho.

“don’t thank me yet,” he says. 

wonyoung begins to unravel, her ribbons coming together to form a massive snake that towers over you guys. she sends the snake striking downward, its mouth opening up and ready to swallow you whole. wooyoung; however, leaps at the massive snake head, fist ablaze as he strikes it and easily catches it on fire. it screeches as it burns and dissolves, but another snake wraps around him and constricts him. 

“wooyoung!” you yell as jongho rushes up and grabs the snake, able to pry it off of wooyoung. his raw strength easily overpowering it. the three of you regroup, panting and bloodied. 

“keep your head in the fight. we need to end this,” you say, pointedly towards wooyoung who refuses to meet your eyes in the moment. 

jongho nods, “together.” 

you guys decide to combine your power, jongho creating another shockwave to destabilize the demon, wooyoung’s ice shards pinning her in place, and you channeling your remaining energy into your blade. 

“it’s over,” you say, leaping forward and delivering the killing blow, severing wonyoung’s head. she lets out a loud cry as her head goes flying, your powers being able to create a large crater in the wall that connects you all to the courtyard where you can see san and seonghwa’s monstrous form fighting sunghoon. 

in the courtyard, sunghoon falters for a second as wonyoung’s cry echoes through the compound. his distraction allows seonghwa to attack with feral blows. while san lands a devastating blow, driving his blade across sunghoon’s neck and sends his head flying. 

sunghoong’s head lands towards where wonyoung’s head had landed. wonyoung crying out for sunghoon, tears streaming down her face. 

“oppa… i’m scared,” she says weakly, the tears continuing to fall. 

“it’s okay, little one, i’m here,” sunghoon says back, voice breaking as he begins to watch as wonyoung’s body and head dissolve. seemingly not caring that his own is doing the same thing. finally, their bodies and head turn to ash, the wind blowing them away. 

seonghwa falls to his knees, having transformed back into his human self. you limp towards san and seonghwa, collapsing next to seonghwa, arms wrapping around him as the tension in the air remains heavy. 

“it’s okay,” you say quietly as you hold seonghwa in your arms, just like how he has done for you. 

ateez compound – courtyard – dawn

the team gathers, battered and bloodied, in the courtyard. the compound was completely destroyed by the two demons. hongjoong and yunho rush in, their expressions dark and grieve-stricken as they take in the scene before.

“what happened?” hongjoong asks, voice low and slightly commanding. 

“we stopped them,” jongho answered, exhaustion heavy in his voice as he leaned against a piece of debris. 

you lean against a wall, glancing down at your hands, yeosang doing his best to patch your wound up. san sitting next to seonghwa, still comforting the villain, calming hand running down his back. wooyoung stares blankly, fists clenched.

“i trusted her…” he says quietly.

“she fooled all of us. don’t put that on yourself,” jongho says firmly. he turns to hongjoong and yunho before quietly filling them in on everything that happened. otherwise, you and the rest of the team sit in silence, the weight of the destroyed compound heavy in the air.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART II

[eempyreall]

♪ 𝐵𝑒𝑔 𝑏𝑦 𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑎 ♪

༺ Here, Kitties! ༻

Oneshot ~ Hybrid Cats x Female Reader

Summary ~ Your rich grandmother gifted you three troublesome hybrid cats. Once they become comfortable, they become a little too attached.

Featuring ~ Original Characters: Boaz, Elias, and Nyx

Extra Notes ~ This is the non fandom version of this story. If you want to read the Tokyo Revengers’ version, press this link.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr and ao3. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

You were not the biggest fan of the newly made system of hybrids being sold as pets. A hybrid was basically a human—just with a little more animal instinct, claws, and a tail. They were halflings. If anything, they could be classified as superhuman or even monstrosities, but calling them pets was a reach. They were basically slaves in this society.

You saw them everywhere—well, amongst the rich who could afford them. Even if you were rich, you wouldn’t buy them. It was morally strained and just plain wrong. It was disgusting. It was also risky, as those halflings were stronger than humans. You were surprised the creatures hadn’t decided to take over humanity. According to the scientists who created them, it was a huge possibility.

When you first heard about it, you wondered why those people would even make such a thing, though their reasoning was that hybrids could do anything humans couldn’t due to their lack of instinctual roots. It was stupid.

That’s why, when you received a huge crate inside the living room of your two-bedroom apartment, you were taken aback. You snatched the note from the structure and read that your rich grandmother had gifted you hybrid cats because she pitied your lack of social interaction. Of course, she didn’t write it like that, but that was basically what the card said.

She even provided you with a credit card that she promised to pay off for the sake of buying whatever the hybrids needed. You grabbed the long document that was taped against the wood.

You were informed that there were three cat hybrids in the crate. They were three males who had an established relationship between them. There was a shorthair Burmese, a tiger, and a panther.

You sighed as you began to think of ways you could send them back to your grandmother. There was no way you wanted three grown-ass men living in your semi-small apartment.

You stepped forward, unclipping the metal lock as you swiftly opened the large crate. Your eyes widened at the display in front of you.

Sitting in the middle was a man with two dark strands flowing over his face—the rest of his black hair pulled back into a loose tuft. He had two slanted black ears that protruded from his long black strands. A black collar was secured around his neck, with a golden bell hanging from the fabric. He had sharp features, glowing green eyes narrowing at your figure, while a frown—with two fangs poking from his lips��was plastered on his expression.

His arms were wrapped around two men who were curled on either side of him. The one on the left had short hair, brown bangs covering his forehead as his grey irises lifted to you. He had a matching collar wrapped around his neck, and his blonde ears matched the middle man’s. He wore an expression of caution as he sniffed the air, his tail wrapped over his leg.

On the right side, a man with wispy, chest-length blonde strands and long bangs framing his face stared at you with slanted chartreuse-yellow eyes. One of his striped ears was upright while the other was folded, a matching collar tied around his neck with his tail slowly flapping against the wood. Although he was expressionless, there was a coldness to his features.

“Hi there,” you say hesitantly with a slight wave. You didn’t really know what to say, having never been around a hybrid in your life. You’d seen them on social media or at a distance but never in close proximity.

You sighed when they didn’t respond, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Look, I know this is probably an uncomfortable situation for you. Maybe even more than it is for me. I did not buy you, nor did I even know you were here,” you clear your throat before continuing. “You guys are free to do whatever you want. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Their skeptical silence motivated you to continue. “Unfortunately, my apartment is kind of small, so you’ll have to share the second bedroom. The bed should be big enough for all three of you, so… yeah,” you finish before walking off to your bedroom.

You skimmed through the document that came with the crate as you sat at your desk. Apparently, your first move was the correct thing to do, considering you had greeted them and walked away to allow them to observe their environment.

You were supposed to stay out of their way for the remainder of the day while they sniffed around so that there were no risks of an attack. Their claws and teeth were sharp and thick—perfect weapons when they felt threatened.

You face-palmed as you realized you’d have to go shopping for all of their needs. You barely had anything in the fridge, and these creatures were carnivores. The horror stories you’d heard of hybrids going haywire and consuming their owners broke through your thoughts, making you shiver.

Luckily, it had been a few hours since you were last in the living room. You had no idea what they were doing, so you hoped your presence wouldn’t startle them when you appeared.

You push yourself up from your desk with a sigh, rubbing your temples as you mentally prepare yourself. It’s been quiet—too quiet. Either they’re still getting used to their surroundings, or they’re plotting something. You shake off the paranoia.

Stepping out of your bedroom, you peek into the hall before making your way to the living room. The panther hybrid sits in the center of the floor, one leg propped up as an arm rests over his knee. His golden bell faintly jingles as his green eyes flick to you the moment you appear. The Burmese hybrid is crouched near the crate, sniffing at the air, while the tiger hybrid lounges on the couch, one arm draped over the back as his yellow eyes settle on you.

“Uh… so,” you start, shifting awkwardly. “I need to go out and buy you guys food. And, uh, other stuff.”

The Burmese hybrid tilts his head, ears twitching, while the tiger hybrid just blinks.

“You’re leaving?” The panther’s voice is smooth but carries an edge that makes your stomach tighten.

“Just for a bit,” you confirm. “I don’t have anything for you to eat and might need to get some other supplies.”

The black-eared man gazes at you with a calculating look. You shift under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling exposed. He leans back slightly, the golden bell around his neck giving a soft jingle.

“I’ll go with you,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I’ll go with you,” he repeats, tone flat.

“So will I,” the tiger hybrid adds, his voice softer than you expected.

The short-haired man hums, stretching his arms over his head. “Mmm… yeah. We should all go,” he muses, voice light. There’s a glint of amusement in his grey eyes as he looks at you. “Gotta make sure our owner doesn’t leave us stranded, right?”

“I’m not your owner,” you say, hands on your hips. “I didn’t buy you, and I don’t want to own anyone. You can do whatever you want.”

“Sure,” he grins in response.

You huff at his disbelief.

The tiger hybrid pushes himself off the couch, rolling his shoulders. “Either way, we’re coming with you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the panther hybrid tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“…Fine,” you mutter. “But if you cause problems, I’m kicking all of you out.”

The panther hybrid smirks. “Understood.”

“So, what do you guys eat? Do you eat, like… cat food or something?” you question as you turn the wheel of the car.

The panther you learned was named Boaz scoffed in the passenger seat, his arms crossed.

“Cat food? Do you see how big we are?” He kept his gaze toward the window as he spoke to you.

“We prefer raw humans, but fish is really good too,” Elias chuckled from the back seat, his claws holding onto your seat as he leaned forward.

Your eyebrows furrowed as Nyx flicked Elias’s temple, causing the tiger to shout, “Ow!”

“We like raw fish. Steak works too,” the Burmese informed you.

“Okay, cool. Is there anything else I should get? Like, do you like cat toys or scratchers or anything?”

“Goddamn, you think we’re regular cats or something?” This time, Boaz’s gaze shifted to you with an eyebrow raised.

“Look, I told you guys that I didn’t buy you. I don’t know shit about hybrids, alright? Otherwise, I would’ve prepared.” You missed the glances they shared while you focused on the road.

“If you didn’t buy us, then who did?” Nyx questioned with curiosity, grey irises on the back of your head.

“Yeah, and how’d you even afford us? Your apartment looks average compared to our last owner,” Elias spoke up, now leaning back in his seat while his yellow eyes stared out the window.

“My grandma bought you and had someone place you in my apartment. I wasn’t expecting you when I got home,” you sighed. “Honestly, this is already a lot of responsibility I didn’t ask for. I was thinking about somehow sending you back from wherever you came,” you say honestly.

“Well, I’m not going back to that shithole, so you’re gonna have to learn how to take care of us,” Boaz stated.

You glanced at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, I don’t have to do shit,” you respond. “What’s up with your attitude, huh?”

“That’s just how Boaz talks, Y/n,” Nyx said softly. “Also, if your grandmother bought us, then she signed the contract.”

Your eyes meet the Burmese through the rearview mirror. “Yeah, and?”

“Well, that means we’re bound to you for at least five years until the contract expires. Then, you’ll have to renew or return,” Elias explained from behind you.

“There are no refunds,” the hybrid next to the tiger added.

“How do you guys know so much about the contract? You said you had an owner before, right? How’d that go?”

“None of your business,” Boaz hissed.

You must’ve struck a nerve. You made a note to yourself to never bring up their last owner.

You watch as the hybrids snatch up packs of frozen meat and piles of junk food, tossing them into your cart without a second thought. You can already tell the receipt is going to be ridiculous, and you just hope your grandmother was serious about covering the credit card bill.

Now in the electronics section, you stand by while the guys grab a gaming console, controllers, and a bunch of different games. Your expression morphs into concern as you pull out your phone, turning away slightly while dialing your grandmother.

The moment she picks up, you start explaining everything they’ve been piling into the cart, asking—no, practically begging—for reassurance that it’s okay to charge what’s bound to be an insane total. She just laughs, telling you not to worry about it and to enjoy your new companions.

Nyx then asks you to stop by an electronics store to get them phones, and despite your hesitation, you end up spending hours buying three different phones under your grandmother’s name.

Even though they’re grown men, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re some overwhelmed mother letting her teenage sons run wild with her credit card. It’s stifling—but you let it slide, for now. You wonder why anyone would want this kind of responsibility.

“Hey! You assholes better help bring everything in, or I’m taking all of your electronics!” you shout at the two hybrids casually strolling into the apartment, leaving you and Nyx outside to do all the work.

Once all four of you finally get everything inside—and after making them help you haul the crate to the dumpster—the hybrids begin setting up their electronics while you start preparing their raw fish. You follow the recipe of some hybrid owner who’s popular on social media.

When you’re finished, you set their plates on the table and call them over from their game. You leave the leftovers on the stove for them to grab, and inform them that they need to clean everything up when they’re done. Nyx raises a brow at you as he picks up his plate.

“You’re not gonna eat with us?” he asks, settling onto the couch, one ear twitching while his tail lazily flaps against the cushion.

Boaz and Elias are sitting on the floor with their backs against the bottom of the sofa. The plates are set on their laps with their controllers set aside on the carpet. They both glance up at you, ears perking with curiosity.

“Nah, I’m gonna shower, then maybe order something. I only made the raw fish anyway, and I don’t eat that,” you say, scratching the back of your head before heading out of the living room.

It has been six months since you got used to your new roommates. It has become a routine—waking up, going to work while they sleep, then coming home to these guys. The first night, you forgot to tell them you had work the next morning, so you had Nyx and Elias blowing up your phone with notifications.

Despite the annoyance, it was kind of adorable, so you let it go. It was your fault for not informing them, after all. You didn’t want to admit that you actually enjoyed their presence, but honestly, it felt like what you imagined having brothers would be like.

One night, you decided to read up on cat hybrids specifically. You never finished reading the manual, and you figured now was a good time. It seemed like a smart idea, considering some of the off-putting moments you’ve had with them.

One day, you had a day off from work and decided to stay in. You were sitting between Elias and Boaz on the sofa, playing a game on the television. Nyx was in the bedroom, taking a nap. When Elias won, he accidentally scratched both sides of your neck while grabbing your shoulders in victory, exclaiming, “Did you see that?”

You remained calm at the stinging sensation, assuming it hadn’t left any significant mark. Unbeknownst to you, a drop of red liquid began oozing from both scratches. Both hybrids’ pupils dilated as the scent of your blood brushed past their noses.

Your eyes widened as Boaz’s hand pressed against your forehead, pinning your head back against the couch while both men lowered their heads, their ears flat against their skulls. Elias’s hand slid over your opposite hip, pulling you closer, his claws piercing the fabric of your bottoms.

You froze as two wet muscles dragged against the skin of your neck before lips closed around your wounds. A shiver ran down your spine as your knees pressed together. Your hands clenched into fists as you stared at the ceiling.

Boaz licked over his own saliva before pulling back, Elias mimicking the motion as they released you. When you lifted your head, you watched as they picked up their controllers and went back to the game as if nothing had happened.

“Um, what the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice a little higher than usual.

“What the fuck was what?” Boaz responded flatly.

“That. What you guys just did.” You frowned.

“Oh, that? We just cleaned the blood from your neck,” Elias shrugged.

Another time, you were in the kitchen chopping up some raw steak when you accidentally cut the skin of your middle finger.

“Ouch!” you cried, immediately rinsing the stinging area with soap and water. Nyx had just walked in to see what you were up to.

When you lifted your finger from the sink, you saw that blood was still seeping through the cut.

“Damnit,” you groaned.

Your attention turned to the hybrid as he suddenly snatched your wrist, both hands holding yours as he brought your finger to his mouth. He stuck his tongue out slightly, licking the blood before circling his lips around your finger, sucking it all the way in while his gaze never left yours.

Heat rushed to your face as he continued sucking the wound for a moment before pulling your finger out of his mouth and releasing you.

“You should really use a disinfectant spray on that, Y/n.”

You understood that hybrids had different societal norms than humans, so you didn’t feel as uncomfortable as you probably should have. You just blamed it on the fact that you had different perceptions of social interactions.

You were confused when you reached a certain part of the passage.

“Heat?”

Your eyes widened as you stood in the doorway of your bathroom. It was late at night, and the door had already been cracked open, so when you saw the light on, you assumed one of the guys had forgotten to turn it off—something that had happened before.

You weren’t expecting to see Boaz with his exposed back turned to you, leaning against the wall with the palm of his hand pressed flat against it. His other arm was moving at a ridiculous speed while you heard wet flapping sounds. The end of his tail twitched while his ears were upright.

Your heart thumps faster against your chest as he turns back to look at you with narrowed green eyes. His lips were apart as he breathed heavily, his arm still moving violently. You both stared at each other before you pulled the door shut.

There was another time where you had woken up to loud thudding noises from the other bedroom. Against your better judgment, you decided to walk towards the noise. When you got to the cracked door, you pushed it open slightly as you peeked into the bedroom.

Elias had his head down while his body rocked against the man who was penetrating him from behind. His claws were gripping the sheets as his hair fell over his shoulders. Nyx had his fingers wrapped around the man’s striped tail as he thrusted into him, both men glistening with sweat as they grunt and moaned loudly.

Boaz had his claws grasping Nyx’s face from the side as he pulled him into a wet kiss, saliva streaming down onto the bed as the burmese hybrid whimpered into his partner’s mouth.

You almost gasped when you saw Elias lift his head, a filthy expression on his sweaty face as a pair of your panties hung from his mouth, his fangs poking through the fabric. His bright eyes were almost fully black with the large pupils covering the irises. His right ear was flat as the other stood upright. One of his eyes was slanted as the other was wide.

You sighed as you realized how helpful this knowledge would’ve been before walking into all those awkward moments.

As you read on, the document warned you of any possessive behavior the hybrids might display. It caused you to think back on any moments you might’ve had where the list of behaviors occurred.

You had just gotten home from the bar, something you don’t normally do unless it’s the weekend. When your coworker asked if you wanted to go after work, you figured that it couldn’t hurt, as you were feeling a bit more energized that day. You had stayed longer than planned as you got tipsy and a little crossed from the blunt you shared.

When you got home, you were surprised to see the three hybrids sitting on the sofa, awake. The atmosphere of the room was suffocating as you stumbled in, shutting and locking the door behind you.

“Hey guys,” you slurred, kicking your shoes off before you started walking to your bedroom. Before you could make it, a hand snatched you back, claws piercing the skin of your arm.

“Where the fuck were you?” Boaz growled as he sniffed you. “And why do you smell like that?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to yank your arm out of his tight grip, to no avail.

“The bar,” you respond with confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell us that you’d be gone for that long?” Elias said as he walked up to your side, grasping your jaw as he forced you to eye his sharp gaze.

“Woah, what the hell? I already texted you guys that I was going out after work. Chill out,” you hissed, pulling your face from his claws as Nyx walked to the other side of you.

“You didn’t tell us where or for how long. That’s not fucking okay, Y/n. Did you even think about how that would make us feel?” Nyx spat angrily.

You noticed that all of their tails were thrashing behind them as their ears were flat against their heads. You could feel the tension rising as they glared at you, eyes narrowed sharply as they looked as though they wanted to attack.

“Hold up. Who the hell do you guys think you are to question me? In my apartment?” you questioned angrily as you grabbed Boaz’s hand to pry his fingers off your arm.

It worked only until he replaced his hand on your neck and pulled you almost nose-to-nose, the expression on his face growing more feral by the second. You felt your heartbeat accelerate as you could see the pupils in his eyes growing.

“I don’t like your tone, Y/n. Who the fuck do you think you’re questioning?” He hissed, his voice eerily calm.

You could feel your feet slightly lift from the floor as you balanced yourself on the tip of your toes. You could feel the sweat beading against your skin as three pairs of eyes bore into you.

That was not an enjoyable moment at all. You felt your skin crawl at the memory. You remember the night ending with him releasing you before you rushed to your room. You couldn’t stop the tears as you had never been handled like that before.

You remembered Elias and Nyx sneaking into your room that night as they held you and whispered how much they cared about you and why they reacted the way they did. You remember shifting your position and eyeing Boaz, who stood at the doorway with his arms crossed and a softer, but stern gaze on his face. None of them apologized, but they did purr and nuzzle into your neck.

It was a very weird moment, and you still don’t know what to make of it.

Another month has passed since you had read the manual. Their behavior has still been weird, but not as bad as before. You had a talk with them about their heats and told them to start keeping the door to their bedroom locked. You had also gotten them some supplies such as lube, condoms, and any other safety products to make it all easier.

You had even talked to them about the possessive behavior, and the conversation seemed to have gone well. So one night, you decided to invite a friend from work over. You just wanted to hang out, but because you had lacked human interaction for a long time, both of you ended up making out.

You weren't planning to go any further, but you had just really enjoyed the way the man's lips felt against yours, as well as the caresses on your back. It was gentle, soft, and mesmerizing. He was gorgeous anyway, so it worked out.

Unfortunately, the door to your bedroom slammed open, and the hybrids stomped in as Boaz headed straight for the human male. He snatched him from the shirt and dragged him off the bed before landing a punch on his face. You scream as Nyx pinned your arms down while Elias started stomping the guy’s stomach.

They continued to beat the man as crimson gushed from his skin, gurgling on his own blood and saliva as Elias dug his claws into the man’s ribs and ripped apart his torso. You gasp loudly, sitting up before Nyx climbed on top of you and pinned you down again. His hands grasped your face as you grabbed his shoulders, attempting to push him off.

“They’re killing him! They’re fucking killing him! N—Nyx, stop them!” You scream as he uses a palm to cover your mouth.

“Shh, shh. It’s going to be over soon,” he spoke softly as warm tears streamed down your face. Your screams are muffled behind his hand as you hear the slashing and squelching of the man’s guts being yanked out of him.

Elias and Boaz are completely feral as they tear apart the human. Blood has splattered all over their face and naked torsos. They don’t stop, even when the man is completely still and any sign of light disappears from his eyes.

The man’s mouth hangs open as his eyes are rolled into the back of his head.

Although the hybrid in front of you is the calmest, you can see the pupils that have dilated as he also gives you a feral expression.

“You’re gonna be okay, Y/n. O—our last owner didn’t make it because he didn’t behave so you just have to relax and listen to us, alright? H—he used us and tricked us and—-we actually really, really love you and don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered with his forehead against yours as you continued to thrash under him.

Nyx is pulled back by the shoulder as Boaz grasps your face and tugged you forward.

“I’ll hurt you if you scream so stop it,” he says, using an arm to rub against his mouth as the blood smears.

“Relax.”

Your hyperventilation slows into quiet pants as you attempt to calm down so as to not get killed. You feel exposed as all three pairs of eyes stare into you when Elias stands to the side of the bed. They’re all surrounding you and it’s suffocating.

“Good,” he begins.

“B—Boaz, please. I—I,” your hands shake against the claws holding your face as you tug them. “I—can’t—,” you are breathless. You can’t breathe.

“Hey, we’re going to take care of the body, okay? But I need you to relax for me. Breathe,” he says.

“I'm going to be honest with you. When I saw his hands on you, it really made me want to kill you,” he said. Your face morphed as you sobbed. “Relax,” you complied as you focused on his green eyes.

“I realize that you had no fucking idea what you were doing. You thought that it was okay, and it's our fault for not telling you before. Now you know that you belong to us. You can't bring anyone home, and you definitely can't touch anyone else, yeah? You know that, right?” Boaz questioned you.

You don't agree with the conditions. You feel stupid for believing them when you had the talk about possessive behavior. You didn't realize how deep they were. The fact that something like this has happened before with their past owner makes you fearful for your life, especially since they killed him. You are hysterical and can't really think straight.

“I—I can’t—I don’t—,” you try so hard to catch your breath but you can’t stop panting.

A hand on your shoulder caused your body to jolt as you turned to the culprit.

“Hey,” Elias leaned in as he purred, his bloody face smearing the substance against your shoulder as he nuzzled against you. “Let’s go to another room while Boaz and Nyx clean the mess up.”

“Hey, why do I have to clean it up when you were one of the ones to kill him?” Nyx pouts.

“T’s not the time, Nyx. Let’s hurry up so we can go to bed.”

“B—but the b—body? How are you gonna—?” you ask, worried that you might get blamed for your hybrids’ actions.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve killed more people than you think and nobody ever found out that it was us,” Elias smiled. “Let’s go,” he says before pushing you off the bed.

“You don’t know how hard it’s been for me to control myself,” Elias whispered against your ear as he held your naked body against his bloody torso.

The steam of the shower is suffocating along with the lack of space between both of you as the warm water rinses you both. You feel the lump in your throat as you could feel the hard structure against your bottom.

He used a hand to wrap around his cock before rubbing the tip against your vagina lips. His tail hangs low as his ears face forward. His wet hair drapes over his shoulders as he nuzzles your neck.

“Would you let me in?” He questioned, his voice soft.

“Do I even have a choice?” You question with fear laced in your tone. He chuckled in response.

“I guess not,” he said before slowly pushing himself inside of you.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Could we PLEASE get the NSFW headcanons for 2012 Donnie aswell?😗 I Adore your writing, feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel like writing that. xoxo💕

Random Headcanons (18+)

2012!Donatello x reader

A/N: The amount of people that have been asking me for this😂 I have no reason to keep you waiting, so here ya go. Hope it lives up to the wait💜

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Implied sex, mentioning of dirty talk but not in detail.

Donnie could be an awkward dork when it came to engaging in sex. Some people might even have found his attempts cringe, as he wiggled his brow muscles at you, or would spread it on thick, making it very obvious what he was hitting at, to the point where he wasn’t just hinting anymore. Luckily for him, you found him adorable. He would just sort of come sliding over to you, giving you those eyes that you had gotten so familiar with throughout your relationship.

But just because he was an adorable, awkward dork while letting you know that he was in the mood, it did not mean that Donnie was the least bit awkward when you actually were engaging in the act. It was as if there was this switch, where Donnie suddenly became much more confident, jumping further into it with you. Had you not been with Donnie as long as you had, you might have been surprised.

On a normal day to day, looking at Donnie, the average person may not think that he would have much experience (well, he didn’t have before the two of you started dating), but you could testify to the fact, that Donnie had in fact been learning a lot in the time the two of you had been together. He had gone from clueless and fumbling, to well experienced and confident. One area he had gotten very far in, was in the area of dirty talk.

Though he could say some damn dorky things, while letting you know that he was in the mood, he could easily become smooth and confident, telling you things that would get your heart beat raising. You liked to joke that that was the true Smooth Donatello, who you were so lucky to have gotten familiar with over your time together with the mutant in purple.

During the actual act, Donnie could tell you some pretty nasty things. Pure joy, toe curling from growing ecstasy, stomach tingling nasty things, while he was pounding into you, either from on top of you or below you, with your arms and legs wrapped around each other, making it easy for his lips to each reach your ears, kissing and licking as he told you all of those things.

[resbangmod]

Resbang 2024 Promo #1

A Wicked Curse

Presented by Author: jgartist916 [AO3]

With Artist: Bean [Instagram] [Instagram] and Artist: Alcruid

Pairings: Death the Kid/OC Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Canon - Typical Violence, Death of a Parent, Non-main Character Death, Mental Health Issues, Emotional/Psychological Abuse (implied), Partial Nudity, Explicit Language

Summary:

Death the Kid becomes the new Lord Death after his father’s passing. However, the alliance with the witches he formed is shaky at best. Especially now that Mabaa has been killed! As the last remaining member of the Mageia line, Evelyn is forced to return to the Witch Realm; taking up the mantle of Grandwitch. Of course, her mother is a tough act to follow and she constantly has to prove herself to the older members of the Order. Meanwhile, the investigation drags on. Justice must be upheld and relations between the DWMA and the Witch Order solidified. Between finding answers and his duties as a Reaper, Kidd also begins to feel the strain. The tireless nights take a toll on the two young leaders and their friends grow concerned. Can Maka find out what is drawing Kidd and Evelyn deeper into the darkness before it’s too late?

Please enjoy the story preview below the cut!

After Blair had slammed the door and her sing-song pum-pum-pumpkin chant joined the cascading water, Soul took a centering breath. “... I can explain.”

“Because every story that starts with that, always ends well.” Maka chided, rolling her eyes as she returned to the simmering stew. 

“I was minding my own business, when-”

“That’s not much better.”

“Will you please, let me finish?” She shrugged a shoulder at him which he took as assent and continued…

It was slightly after noon. The day had just begun to cool down from the desert heat. Soul gratefully undid the tie Maka had pressed into his Adam’s apple earlier that day. With a fresh coffee in his hand, he melted into the peace of Deathbuck’s Cafe. All he wanted to do was just sit back, relax, and forget the mountain of reports waiting for him in the office.

“You were slacking off? Soul! You’re a Deathscythe now! You have responsibilities!”

“I was taking a well-deserved break,” he countered. “People need to take breaks. Not everyone can be a 24/7 work-a-loic. It’s not cool!”

Maka harrumphed and ladled a large helping of the stew into a bowl. After she portioned one out for herself, she joined her partner in the living room. His bowl slid over the coffee table as a peace offering. 

“Okay, so- I was there, enjoying my coffee when-”

Soul breathed in the rich aroma. The mug resting on his lips. Pausing for just a moment. Savoring it when a rumble and crash sounded from behind him. Startled screams shouted out into the plaza.

He closed his eyes. Gripped the mug tighter. “If there is a god, please, be cool. I need this.”

Footsteps rushed past. Doors slamming closed to shield those hiding within. Windows flew open to sneak a peek at the sudden commotion.

“Don’t take this from me.” He begged.

“You think a little love tap like that can take ME down?”

“Fuuck~”

“I am the mighty BlackStar! I am a warrior god! NO ONE is as big a star as I am!”

“There is no god.” Soul lamented to the steam.

“I have had it up to HERE with your pompous, narcissistic, ego!”

A pained groan reverberated in Soul’s chest as he deflated in defeat. “There is a god and he is a prick!” He slammed the mug down on the table and whirled on his two quarreling friends.

[violetvines]

hey i LOVED your averyjameson fic, and i was wondering if you could write one for grayson and lyra but with a teen girl, i think that would be so cute x

aww thank you, i'm glad you loved it! :P i hope i did gray and lyra justice, i present to you....

born to be free 🎀

summary: gabriela hawthorne was born to be free, not to be controlled. which is why she hesitates to tell her father, who, by the way, has the need to be in control all the time, of her whereabouts after returning late one night (considering the fact that she went for a party). grayson hawthorne will not yield until he gets his answers and his daughter will not back down either... that is, until lyra kane comes into the picture, playing her role as a true queen of hearts.

characters: grayson hawthorne, lyra kane, gabriela hawthorne [their daughter]

warnings: slight innuendos

a/n: gabriela, because g, and it's a pretty name <3 also omg the grayson and lyra scene (i hope i captured the romantic tension nicely)

Sometimes, silence was the best way to answer a question.

Those were words from Grayson Hawthorne himself, and as his daughter, Gabriela Hawthorne was no stranger to those words. Which is why she usually used her father's words against him.

The silence dragged on in the living room, Grayson's eyes never straying from the newspaper he had in his lap. If Gabriela could guess, he was trying to solve a crossword puzzle. He didn't have a pencil – he usually solved the games with his mind.

She was sitting in an armchair, the one close to the fireplace. Yes, their house had a fireplace, thanks to her father's old soul. She almost rolled her eyes. The house had a very old money feel to it, not her favourite aesthetic, but it was comfortable enough.

"I asked you a question," Grayson tried again, reiterating what he said a minute ago. "Why did you return so late last night?"

He could've asked her where she had been, but no, Grayson Hawthorne had to kill two birds with one stone, as always. She knew that him asking her "why" would lead to her telling him "when", "where" and "how".

She absent-mindedly scrolled through her Pinterest, trying to think of what to say. Her father was extremely overprotective, and she had a feeling that she would be sitting through a half-hour lecture if she actually told him where she'd been last night.

"I was at Emma's," she said, as convincingly as possible, using the skills she learnt as a Hawthorne, "we were working on a project due next week."

There was a crack as he straightened the newspaper in his lap.

"You were not."

That was it. That was all he said. And all the while, he still hadn't taken his eyes off the crossword on the newspaper page.

Attempting to change the topic, Gabriela spoke up again. "You seem to be awfully good at multitasking."

"I'm good at everything I do," he replied, slightly raising an eyebrow, "that is how it should be." Of course, everything he did had to be perfect.

As if a switch had been clicked, he lowered his newspaper and locked eyes with her.

"And I hope to be a good father too." He said it softly, sincerely.

Gabriela knew she was lucky because from what she had heard from her mother, a heavy burden of expectations had been placed on her father's shoulders when he was younger. She knew she was lucky because Grayson had every reason to continue that vicious cycle by placing impossible expectations on her shoulders and raising her to be the perfect child. But he didn't. He just wanted to see her happy. She knew he was trying not to pressure her into doing things she didn't want to do, and when she made a mistake, he never scolded her for it. He only told her to keep trying.

Sometimes, she wished he could treat himself the same way he treated her.

"You weren't at Emma's yesterday," he continued, "and you didn't answer my question."

"I asked you why you returned so late, not where you were or what you were doing."

"So... now you're telling me I don't know where I went and what I did last night?"

Sometimes, she couldn't help feeling a little annoyed with Grayson. She knew he had her best interests at heart, but his overprotectiveness could make him a controlling parent. And Gabriela?

She was not born to be controlled. She was born to be free. At least, that's what her mother had constantly told her when she was a child.

"No. I'm telling you that I know where you weren't last night, and you know where you were."

She couldn't tell if he actually knew she hadn't been at Emma's house or if he was testing her. That was one thing she hated about talking to him. She frequently found herself caught in his traps.

She was saved when her mother walked into the living room, taking a seat beside her father.

"Yes, love?" He asked her, immediately setting the newspaper aside.

"Give me that." Lyra reached for the newspaper across his lap, and he let her take it. Grayson Hawthorne never let people take things from him, he never just let things happen, but for her mother, he would always make an exception, Gabriela knew.

"How many left?" Lyra asked.

As Grayson leaned over to point out the last row that was blank, Lyra took the opportunity to give her daughter a wink. So she was distracting him for her. Gabriela flashed her a small smile. She loved her mother so, so much. She understood her like no one else did.

She made to slowly get up from her chair, noticing how Grayson's attention was all on Lyra.

Her mother read out the clue. It was a simple word but it meant everything to Gabriela.

"Freedom," she said, "and seven blanks."

Grayson opened his mouth, but Lyra beat him to the answer. "Liberty."

He gave her a mock frown, and by the time this happened, she was already creeping up the stairs to her bedroom. She gently shut the door just as Lyra burst out into fits of laughter, probably making fun of Grayson or something. She loved doing that, and he loved letting her do that. Gabriela knew that Grayson knew as much as her that there was no good in trying to stop Lyra Kane. Once you decided to stop her, she would do the exact opposite – continue until she was done. She was unyielding, like the force of a tide, but she also had an air of grace, like a ballerina.

"Not like," she thought to herself. Her mother had done ballet when she was younger. She was a ballerina, had been.

She turned and gave her room a once over, then walked over to her bed, pulling back the covers before flopping down on it.

But she didn't go to sleep.

"I know what you were trying to do," Grayson told Lyra, after he had finally set the newspaper back into its designated rack in the corner of the living room. He turned around to find her sprawled on the sofa, occupying its entire length, facing him. He raised an eyebrow at her. She raised one back.

Gosh, he hated it when she did that. He hated it when she challenged him and he hated the fact that every part of him that was formidable would dissipate in the second she did something like that.

She was his undoing, he was sure of it. Ever since he heard her voice on the line, some part of him knew.

Her message was clear: she was taking the sofa, and if he wanted his space back, he'd have to forget it and move to the armchair or...

He walked to the sofa, stopped directly before it. Lyra continued staring at him, arms crossed, eyes widened in innocence.

"What?"

Grayson swallowed. Then, he leaned over and placed both hands on either side of her, trapping her face, only inches from his. Lyra could see the rise and fall of his chest, as if he were containing himself. She smirked.

He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, repeating his previous statement.

"I know what you were trying to do. I know what you are trying to do."

Her gaze slid to his striking gray eyes, then strategically moved to his lips. "Is it working?"

He shut his eyes for a second.

Nice try, Lyra. But not today. Not tonight.

He pulled back, took a few steps back. Lyra nearly laughed. She loved the effect she had on him. Never mind what had just happened, she would get her compensation soon enough. What mattered was that Gabriela managed to escaped a night of interrogations. She planned to keep it that way.

"Fine, go ahead and resist me." She finally got up, and positioned herself right before Grayson. "You won't last long."

This time, he looked directly into her eyes. Circled both arms around her waist. Lowered himself so that their lips were nearly touching.

He never knew when he was hitting his target, but this time, he could tell he had, by the way her pupils dilated. "You first," he smirked.

She smacked him on the shoulder. "I'm not the one who looked like they were constipated earlier."

"Constipated?" He scrunched his face. He nearly retracted his hands but she held them in place with her own.

"What was I trying to do?" She asked him now, curious about what he had to say. He could try, but she was very good at deflecting. It was hard to say who was going to win.

"Distract me." He replied almost immediately, all the feeling in the room moments before already disappearing.

He gently removed his hands and used them to smooth down her hair. "What is she hiding from me?" He continued, seemingly deep in thought.

Lyra sighed. Looks like her plan to deflect had fallen flat. She couldn't change the topic without him getting suspicious, and she worried that he would take matters into his own hands if he started suspecting anything. Internally, she shook her head. There was no need for any PI business or anything of the sort.

She decided to tell him the news herself. At least Gabriela wouldn't have to go through the process of answering question after question.

Before she could say anything, his eyes narrowed and he directed a question to her. "You know, don't you?" She could see the wheels turning in his head, and all the while, he hadn't stopped stroking her hair. As much as she liked that, she took his hands and led him back to the sofa. He watched her carefully, as if he expected her to lie down on it again, but she only sat down. He sat next to her.

"I do." He looked at her expectantly.

"I know that she knows what she's doing. I know that she knows how to make the best decisions for herself." She paused, carefully shifting her gaze to look directly at him. "And I also know that you want to protect her. I know that's the only reason you do what you do."

"But to her... it can seem controlling, Gray."

Grayson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He did this every time he found himself at a particularly difficult crossroads. He always did this when he was feeling troubled.

"I know, love." He dropped his hand into his lap.

"But I just can't help it. My family means everything to me, and if anything is threatening their safety, I make sure the threat is neutralised, swiftly."

Lyra took his hand in hers. "That's one of the things I love most about you, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. But sometimes, the best thing one can do is... to just let things run their course before blocking their movement."

"My dance teacher constantly emphasised the importance of fluidity over rigidity," she began, but stopped as she noticed Grayson's eyes widen slightly. He knew she didn't like talking about her dancing days. She gave him a small smile that meant "it's okay".

"What I mean is... being protective isn't a bad thing, but giving her a chance to make her own choices and face their consequences may have some good of its own."

Grayson opened his mouth to speak, but she placed one finger over his lips, shushing him for a moment longer.

"I'm sure you can agree that any choice a Hawthorne makes is never a bad choice." She raised her eyebrows and could see Grayson's earlier taut expression loosening.

"Besides, she's well-behaved, Gray, and we've raised her well. I trust that she thinks about her choices well enough before choosing them."

He thought about it. Nodded slowly. "Lyra..."

"Mhm?"

"I'm going to go talk to her."

"But she's probably asleep–"

"I want to hear it from her. I want her to trust me." He wrapped his arms around Lyra and brought her closer to his chest. Kissed her on the head.

"Thank you for talking to me, love. You always know what to say."

She rolled her eyes. "Not always."

"Shhhh," he said, "you are my always."

She looked up at him, then surprised him with a quick peck on the lips.

"You know I could stay here all night," he wound his arms around her tighter. "I'll only get up because I know we have the rest of our lives."

Lyra got up first. "See you later, Hawthorne," she winked.

He shook his head. Lyra Kane, his undoing. There was one more thing he had to say to her.

"Also... we both know she isn't asleep, right?"

She turned and looked at him. "What do you think?"

He answered with a knowing smile.

Gabriela rushed back to her room before Grayson reached the bottom landing. She had eavesdropped on part of the conversation.

She lay in bed, under the covers, which she had wrinkled, so that it looked like she had been asleep for a while now. Slowing her breaths, she turned to face away from the door.

Three knocks sounded. She nearly didn't give an answer until three words were uttered.

"Hey... my little queen of spades."

She opened her eyes. That was what Grayson had nicknamed her as a kid. He even went so far as to call her "Your Majesty" back then.

"Can I come in?"

Gabriela sighed. She had heard the last few words of his and Lyra's conversation, so she didn't really know why she was still pretending. Maybe it was anticipation of what would happen next. Would he question her continuously, like he did countless times before? Would he listen to what she had to say?

"Yeah," she muttered, hoping he didn't hear. But of course he did.

She turned on her nightstand lamp just as he stepped inside. She kept silent, waiting for the flurry of questions that was sure to come. Grayson walked over to a chair and sat down.

"Your mother spoke to me... about how... controlling I can be sometimes." Gabriela noticed how he struggled to form the sentence. He wasn't used to admitting that being in control was more bad than good. She appreciated him trying.

"But I need you to know that it is not my intention to appear that I am controlling your life. I only want to protect you and... I think it clouds my judgment more often than not." He trailed off, and the room fell into silence again. She knew how hard it was for him to admit things like this. He wasn't used to being unsure.

Gabriela decided to give him a chance. Because that's exactly what her mother did long ago, when she decided to pick up the phone and call Grayson Hawthorne. When she took part in the Grandest Game and ended up on his team. When she saw how scarred his soul was, but didn't choose to give up him on him because he hadn't given up on her.

"I know, dad." The corner of his mouth tilted up at the sound of that.

"I... I'm sorry if it made you feel like you can't trust me anymore. I–"

"It's alright," she said softly. "I may not have felt like telling you certain things, but I do trust you."

"I trust that you have my best intentions at heart."

"That I do." He said it with so much conviction, no one would have dared to argue.

Another lapse of silence.

Sometimes, silence was the best way to answer a question.

"But not all the time," Gabriela thought. "Not now."

She broke the silence. "I didn't fully lie, you know. I was at a party, but I stopped by at Emma's house so that we could go together."

She could tell that Grayson was having a hard time keeping silent, not wanting to pressure her with questions. "Our classmate invited us," she added quickly, in case he had the wrong idea, "she lives a few blocks down from Emma's. I didn't touch alcohol or anything, I mostly just did a bunch of karaoke. And no one approached me... they wouldn't have dared. I stuck with Emma and the girls the whole time."

She didn't think Grayson had ever been to a casual party. Even if he had been to one, he would've been severely overdressed. His love for suits and all.

She half expected him to start his Q&A, even after her explanations, but what he said next shocked her.

"Okay."

"You're not going to question me about it?"

He thought about his answer. "No. But I do have one question."

She sighed. "Shoot."

"Can you promise me that you'll not be afraid of telling me things like this in the future?"

"I'll make you one promise, in return. I promise I'll do what I can to be less... overbearing. To let you have your freedom." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to be your cage, the reason you feel like a trapped bird."

Gabriela was touched. Nearly sniffled. He was truly making an effort.

"As long as you hold up your end of your promise, I'll promise you, and hold up mine."

"Deal." He concluded.

Then, they smiled at each other. The moment was broken when Grayson said, "Have I ever told you of a story where I was dragged to a party by your aunt Gigi?"

"What?! No way." Gabriela nearly laughed at the ridiculous thought. But then again... if Gigi really was involved...

"And I was forced to wear shorts, can you believe it?" This made her mouth drop open.

"You, Grayson Hawthorne, in shorts?"

He nodded, grimacing slightly. "Would you like to hear the story?"

"Do you even need to ask?" She asked him back.

This time, he grinned. An actual grin.

"Once upon a time..."

"You can skip that part, dad. I'm not a little girl anymore." Gabriela wouldn't admit it, but hearing bedtime stories when she had been younger had been her favourite activity of the day.

Grayson ignored her and only continued, sounding a little more cheerful than usual.

"I love you, dad." She said in her head. And knowing that her mother was part of the reason of this change, her inner voice also thanked her silently.

[iwriteasfotini]

I finished reading Keep My Candle Burning by @keepmycandleburning and I have so much to say. Praise to shout from the rooftops.

I’m someone who likes to read a variety of ships, so if you are my usual Marauders crowd, bear with me. If you are also someone who is open to exploring the FULL range of what fanfiction can offer when it comes to a relationship centered story, I cannot recommend this one enough. 

The nitty gritty: It’s long. 542K words to be approximate. The chapters are LONG. They do have breaks by date and sometimes breaks by scene change, so you can set it down in the middle of a chapter and find your place again, if you remember the words which you left off around. It is told from one POV (hallelujah), Voldemort’s. 

The things I loved about this story:

Medieval feel of the universe

Royal and Clément

Humanizing a villain 

The sacred made mundane

Symbolism and meaningful moments

Relationship dynamics (many queer characters)

The Veela and Dementor lore

Beautiful writing, vivid scenes

Because I have so much to say, I’m breaking this down into three separate posts during which I’ll address everything on the above list in some capacity - some of it will be addressed multiple times. I also wrote those posts as comments to the author, so they read a bit like a letter to them. It was simply too much to post in a single comment on Ao3. 

I’m not going to talk about certain things in depth because I think reading it with little preconceptions in the story is part of what makes it as magical as it is. 

Humanizing a Villain

Keep My Candle Burning Universe

Timelessness

Who would I recommend this story to?

Everyone who enjoys humanizing a villain or a monster. I’m a Marauders fan. I have Marauder’s brain rot as bad as anyone. Jegulus, Wolfstar, Rosekiller, Drarry, Lily with almost anyone (But I’m a Snily shipper at heart)... those are my go to ships. What was I thinking diving into a Bellamort fic? The same thing I was thinking when I started reading Manacled (my first ever fanfiction read). Why not!!!! And I am so glad I didn’t limit myself because this story is about Voldemort and he’s the villain of the series. 

Two things I want everyone who reads Voldemort fanfiction (or really any fanfiction) to remember. 

First, the man’s name is Voldemort. This is his chosen name. To call him Tom or Riddle is a refusal to acknowledge his true person. I learned this from the author of Keep My Candle Burning pointing it out to me. But I feel in many areas of fandom, the default is to refer to him as Tom or Riddle. This is something Dumbledore does intentionally to belittle the man. It is something Harry learned directly from Dumbledore. Voldemort would never think of himself as Tom. It took me a while to adjust to this, but I am now fully on board. The best post I ever read about it paralleled him to a trans person. A refusal to use a trans person’s chosen name or pronouns is a refusal to accept the way they wish to present to the world. To deny Voldemort his name is the same thing. The man sees himself as Voldemort. That being said, his name is so taboo most people just call him You-Know-Who! And the Death Eaters call him my Lord or Master. 

Second, the characters an author writes are not a reflection of who they are as a person. Do you believe all authors who write horror thrillers are people who want to go out and terrorize the populace with a chainsaw? Absolutely not. So when reading something which is at times disturbing, or uncomfortable, or presents violent acts as part of a normal DE meeting… remember it isn’t the author praising or condoning this behavior. A character in a story is just that, a character. A person who writes a villain is not a villain themself. It feels ridiculous to have to call this out, but even I found myself wondering if I was supposed to like Voldemort in this story. And having read the entire thing and bawled my eyes out at the ending, I realized there are times when I was meant to like and connect with him and times when I was supposed to be appalled and disgusted by him. Both of those things can happen in the same work! And to achieve this says nothing about the author except they can write REALLY well. 

[pastorfutureletthembe]

I saw many theories and I love them all. I will try to make a masterlist kind of post, so every one can enjoy them <3

I didn't know it was popular but Vein is, ironically, most likely to die. Because there are many occurances when the hand used to shoot Cheng Xiaoshi isn't his good hand. (X) Or Because he's placed at the center in "Burning Palace" (X). The Chess Promotional Poster shows Vein in the distance as a rook (making him Cheng Xiaoshi's mirrored image), and Xia Fei being a pawn, he could evolve and take his place or be Lu Guang's evil equivalent on the chessboard. (X)

Xia Fei was at the top of my list until recently. The main reason is that it makes sense, narratively speaking, since he's the one who's got the most screentime/backstory/care out of the three new characters. There just isn't much more to say about his character as things are. He's also the one who befriended the main characters and he seems to regret his partnership with Liu Xiao, so there might be some redemption arc to unlock, if you want to call it that, which might force him to sacrifice himself for his new friends or for Vein.

But that's just it: as a writer it makes sense to end him but it also makes sense to give him new motives and depth. Vein's death could be it. We also have no idea if the subject of his major (applied physics) is relevant to the plot or just a wink at the LC community. Those two things are perfect entry point to give him character development. You know, instead of killing him off for the sake of it. Renting Shell, or Skin for rent, is also a big clue on what he could become or what his role is in this story. I once said about his countdown poster:

We also see his shadow and I think it is an important clue. Presenting as a white piece, a pawn, could it be that his dark side is the most overlooked warning of death?

There's also an alarming number of traffic lights this season, which could be relevant to the finale plot twist, just like the knife and cake hinted on Qiao Ling stabbing Lu Guang in season 2.

So perhaps an accident more than an actual murder? If YINGDU is where/when everything started, but Cheng Xiaoshi didn't die there. The person coming after them might try to kill them for revenge.

The theory that Vein isn't the one coming after them is very popular and honestly? I'm all in. (X) (X)

Liu Xiao could also be the one to kill or to die. Xia Fei could kill him by pushing him away from Vein or Cheng Xiaoshi and our favorite manipulator would be run over by a car. Shit happens.

How would that unfold though, since Liu Xiao appears in season 2 and Lu Guang states they weren't supposed to meet them at the airport/Bridon? Good question but his whole existence in the entirety of the show, in universe, is put into light, questionned even, at every turn. So it's not a matter of how but why it's possible, I feel like. He does sound like a walking paradox. Maybe he's supposed to die in every timeline, he just doesn't die at the same point each time. Wouldn't that be cool?

The Prelude scene is all about Liu Xiao so I'll bet all my money that he is the source of Lu Guang's Horrors™. The Persistence of Memory is a good hint on that. His existence is persistent, methink.

Speaking of manipulator, there is this glorious analysis which tells us something important. This could circle back to Xia Fei dying:

this is portraying betrayal, where I think it's getting rid of your ally/puppet after they're no longer useful. So, this scene can be perceived in different views, however there's one fact that stands for sure. Liu Xiao isn't opposing the idea of getting rid of and betraying his own allies if he needs to.

I don't really have all the answer but I do believe he is the character with the most awareness in the show, close to Lu Guang. It could have something to do with the woman's cipher in the opening. The Eye's code gives us plenty of clues we don't really know how to understand, after all. Two of them are "Don't Trust Him" and "Fake death ability user" (X).

Now I will give my own theory on the matter

The episodes' titles might be a hint on who's going to die. I actually started to prepare a meta about it but gave up at some point because I wasn't sure it meant anything. I might publish it anyway once the season is over, for posterity lmao

Let's take a very summary look at it:

So Time Begins to Flow Again (Lu Guang goes back to the start. Both cases are about women but reflects 2 distinct parts of Lu Guang's struggle: sacrifice and lies / hope and hopeless)

Prelude (the word is related to music/sound, so Liu Xiao's power. CXS uses his power for the first time by accident)

Them (they meet: Cheng Xiaoshi/Lu Guang/Xia Fei)

And Then There Were None (from Agatha Christie's novel: killed one by one, only one survivor. ) (x)

Reunion (Cheng Xiaoshi/Cheng Weimin)

Puzzle (Liu Xiao, I'm guessing. I think it was said in a character sheet somewhere that he could solve a rubik's cube with closed eyes too).

Y1 's title made little sense to me because I couldn't find any novel or poem this could refer to. Time didn't stop at any point as far as we know. If anything, it rewinds and we're starting over. It might be related to Cheng Xiaoshi's lifespan, though. Only Lu Guang is aware of that, though.

Lu Guang declares that he will stay by Cheng Xiaoshi's side (not forever but he's lying.)

Y2 places Liu Xiao at the center of everything, for the simple fact this scene around him lasts 12 minutes and it happens before the opening, putting a stronger point to showcase him as something happening in the backstage. His actions in the prelude of this episode directly challenge the natural order of things as Lu Guang knows it. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't ask for his best friend's help.

Lu Guang promises he will come with him on his own.

Y3 is a simple pronoun and I can only suppose it means these silly drunk boys: Cheng Xiaoshi, Lu Guang, Xia Fei. Their meeting is important and decisive. Their meeting is also orchestrated by Liu Xiao, because of this job he pays Xia Fei to do.

Note that all five characters appear at least once in this episode, which is not supposed to happen at all, according to Lu Guang's memory.

Y4 is interesting. Not only the reference it's based on but also the fact it was hidden in plain sight in a previous official artwork. The theme of the lone survivor, the final girl if you will, is peak in Link Click. It could refers to Lu Guang, escaping his timeline over and over in hope to save everyone else in the next one. It could also imply only one out of the three new characters survives their meeting with our mains. Or.

It could refers to this fact The Eye revealed as a lie: there is more than one survivor. Who's the other one? Because Cheng Xiaoshi had his first, quite literal, baptem by fire, a man got out of the fire with only burns in his palm. But what about dad? That's when it gets tricky. Hold that thought.

Y5 puts us on a new character, a shady one, one the whole plot is actually about: Cheng Weimin. His name was revealed by Liu Xiao for the first time in the trailer, from the prelude scene! Everyone is triggered by this name as if that guy is Keyser Söze himself. Well. I will only quote this great movie that Usual Suspect will always be:

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.

But he did exist and there was a plot twist to that. And I firmly believe that- you know. Patterns and such.

The possibility that Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi lose their psychic connection when a power user is around or touching them doesn't sound so crazy either. (X)

We underestimate the fact that Cheng Weimin could have a bigger impact on the story than his abandonment had on Cheng Xiaoshi's life.

Note that this episode makes Cheng Xiaoshi meeting his dad the main storyline. In this episode, though, Vein and Lu Guang meet again, and this time Lu Guang is the instigator, so it might be accurate to the original timeline. This could also be the reunion the title refers to.

Lu Guang also makes his famous confession about following Cheng Xiaoshi wherever he wants to go.

Y6 is a mystery for now but I do believe it is relevant to Liu Xiao's character the most. Why? Because he is the one officially stated as the Manipulator and he sees time as "a hypocritical construct", as revealed in Mastermind. This song is actually quite insightful:

Keep rising back from the dust refers to fire, resurrection and the idea of it being repeated in time.

There is an emphasis on the repeat again and again, again and again

You're tired on my strings like a puppet, and the imagery of a deal, of the devil, is often paired with his character

This game they keeps refering to when making Liu Xiao's content, when played by a manipulator and mastermind can be seen as a puzzle.

Killing spree doesn't sound like a figure of speech or a metaphor when put in the context of And Then There Were None.

I do feel like these points could be, depending on the season finale's usual plot twist, referring to Cheng Weimin as well.

Sidenote: I do feel like Lu Guang had many chances to get out this twisted fate, but each time decided to stick to what he knew. And that will always be his downfall. His devotion is the reason why he is there. He will always stayed by Cheng Xiaoshi's side because there is just no other way to live his life, no matter the timeline's events.

In conclusion,

I would say Liu Xiao or Cheng Weimin might be the one dying, only to be brought back to life. And that might be the reason why the timelines keep changing.

I like Vein as a red herring but I just don't bite anymore. This bait became unreliable.

I would still take Xia Fei's plot twist anytime, though!

Of course my personal favorite is that Lu Guang is the one dying. But It's my headcanon for the Original Timeline. YINGDU is not it (probably number 3). I do not think he can die after the OT, because Cheng Xiaoshi made sure of that. Of course head canons are not proof.

Wait and see~

Place your bets people

[figs-oliomedley]

oh honey

turned on Bubble Guppies while I was making pancakes and remembered why I loved this show

god bless, Deema (also go listen to the songs they're genuine bangers)

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[fideidefenswhore]

[Henry] had asked Lady Shelton whether Mary [was] persisting in her obstinancy. Hearing that she was, Henry became certain that she was being encouraged by secret communication from Katharine. Lady Shelton thought the only possible messenger was Mary's chamber woman. In this she was correct. The maid had been smuggling letters in and out. She was dismissed, as was Mary's confessor, to be replaced by one whom Chapuys characterised as 'Lutheran'.

The King’s Pearl: Henry VIII & His Daughter Mary, Melita Thomas

[brittlebutch]

sonic and snufkin actually kind of feel like very similar characters to me. holding hands over “my personal sense of freedom and dedication to making decisions based on what I think is right is what matters most, and if you’ve built some idealized version of me in your head then that’s none of my business and it’s not my responsibility if the reality of who i am lets you down in some way”. also the deep connection to nature and all.

[fragmentedblade]

I have so many screenshots of Kalpas' face I could reconstruct his face at this point, and I'm afraid to say I'm not sure his face is scarred

[eempyreall]

♪ 𝐵𝑒𝑔 𝑏𝑦 𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑎 ♪

༺ Here, Kitties! ༻

Oneshot ~ Hybrid BajiFuyuTora x Female Reader

Summary ~ Your rich grandmother gifted you three troublesome hybrid cats. Once they become comfortable, they become a little too attached.

Featuring ~ Baji Keisuke, Hanemiya Kazutora, and Matsuno Chifuyu

Extra Notes ~ This is the fandom version of this story. If you want to read the non fandom that provides original characters, press this link.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

You were not the biggest fan of the newly made system of hybrids being sold as pets. A hybrid was basically a human—just with a little more animal instinct, claws, and a tail. They were halflings. If anything, they could be classified as superhuman or even monstrosities, but calling them pets was a reach. They were basically slaves in this society.

You saw them everywhere—well, amongst the rich who could afford them. Even if you were rich, you wouldn’t buy them. It was morally strained and just plain wrong. It was disgusting. It was also risky, as those halflings were stronger than humans. You were surprised the creatures hadn’t decided to take over humanity. According to the scientists who created them, it was a huge possibility.

When you first heard about it, you wondered why those people would even make such a thing, though their reasoning was that hybrids could do anything humans couldn’t due to their lack of instinctual roots. It was stupid.

That’s why, when you received a huge crate inside the living room of your two-bedroom apartment, you were taken aback. You snatched the note from the structure and read that your rich grandmother had gifted you hybrid cats because she pitied your lack of social interaction. Of course, she didn’t write it like that, but that was basically what the card said.

She even provided you with a credit card that she promised to pay off for the sake of buying whatever the hybrids needed. You grabbed the long document that was taped against the wood.

You were informed that there were three cat hybrids in the crate. They were three males who had an established relationship between them. There was a shorthair Burmese, a tiger, and a panther.

You sighed as you began to think of ways you could send them back to your grandmother. There was no way you wanted three grown-ass men living in your semi-small apartment.

You stepped forward, unclipping the metal lock as you swiftly opened the large crate. Your eyes widened at the display in front of you.

Sitting in the middle was a man, upright with crossed legs. He had two slanted black ears that protruded from his long black strands. A black collar was secured around his neck, with a golden bell hanging from the fabric. He had sharp features, eyes narrowing at your figure, while a frown—with two fangs poking from his lips—was plastered on his expression.

His arms were wrapped around two men who were curled on either side of him. The one on the left had short hair, black bangs covering his forehead as his greenish-blue irises lifted to you. He had a matching collar wrapped around his neck, and his blonde ears matched the middle man’s. He wore an expression of caution as he sniffed the air, his tail wrapped over his leg.

On the right side, a man with two blonde strands flowing over his face—the rest of his black hair pulled back into a loose tuft—stared at you with wide golden eyes. One of his striped ears was upright while the other was folded, a matching collar tied around his neck with his tail slowly flapping against the wood. What caught you off guard was the black ink on his neck. Although he was expressionless, there was a coldness to his features.

“Hi there,” you say hesitantly with a slight wave. You didn’t really know what to say, having never been around a hybrid in your life. You’d seen them on social media or at a distance but never in close proximity.

You sighed when they didn’t respond, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Look, I know this is probably an uncomfortable situation for you. Maybe even more than it is for me. I did not buy you, nor did I even know you were here,” you clear your throat before continuing. “You guys are free to do whatever you want. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Their skeptical silence motivated you to continue. “Unfortunately, my apartment is kind of small, so you’ll have to share the second bedroom. The bed should be big enough for all three of you, so… yeah,” you finish before walking off to your bedroom.

You skimmed through the document that came with the crate as you sat at your desk. Apparently, your first move was the correct thing to do, considering you had greeted them and walked away to allow them to observe their environment.

You were supposed to stay out of their way for the remainder of the day while they sniffed around so that there were no risks of an attack. Their claws and teeth were sharp and thick—perfect weapons when they felt threatened.

You face-palmed as you realized you’d have to go shopping for all of their needs. You barely had anything in the fridge, and these creatures were carnivores. The horror stories you’d heard of hybrids going haywire and consuming their owners broke through your thoughts, making you shiver.

Luckily, it had been a few hours since you were last in the living room. You had no idea what they were doing, so you hoped your presence wouldn’t startle them when you appeared.

You push yourself up from your desk with a sigh, rubbing your temples as you mentally prepare yourself. It’s been quiet—too quiet. Either they’re still getting used to their surroundings, or they’re plotting something. You shake off the paranoia.

Stepping out of your bedroom, you peek into the hall before making your way to the living room. The panther hybrid sits in the center of the floor, one leg propped up as an arm rests over his knee. His golden bell faintly jingles as his brown eyes flick to you the moment you appear. The Burmese hybrid is crouched near the crate, sniffing at the air, while the tiger hybrid lounges on the couch, one arm draped over the back as his golden eyes settle on you.

“Uh… so,” you start, shifting awkwardly. “I need to go out and buy you guys food. And, uh, other stuff.”

The Burmese hybrid tilts his head, ears twitching, while the tiger hybrid just blinks.

“You’re leaving?” The panther’s voice is smooth but carries an edge that makes your stomach tighten.

“Just for a bit,” you confirm. “I don’t have anything for you to eat and might need to get some other supplies.”

The black-eared man gazes at you with a calculating look. You shift under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling exposed. He leans back slightly, the golden bell around his neck giving a soft jingle.

“I’ll go with you,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I’ll go with you,” he repeats, tone flat.

“So will I,” the tiger hybrid adds, his voice softer than you expected.

The short-haired man hums, stretching his arms over his head. “Mmm… yeah. We should all go,” he muses, voice light. There’s a glint of amusement in his blue-green eyes as he looks at you. “Gotta make sure our owner doesn’t leave us stranded, right?”

“I’m not your owner,” you say, hands on your hips. “I didn’t buy you, and I don’t want to own anyone. You can do whatever you want.”

“Sure,” he grins in response.

You huff at his disbelief.

The tiger hybrid pushes himself off the couch, rolling his shoulders. “Either way, we’re coming with you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the panther hybrid tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“…Fine,” you mutter. “But if you cause problems, I’m kicking all of you out.”

The panther hybrid smirks. “Understood.”

“So, what do you guys eat? Do you eat, like… cat food or something?” you question as you turn the wheel of the car.

The panther you learned was named Baji scoffed in the passenger seat, his arms crossed.

“Cat food? Do you see how big we are?” He kept his gaze toward the window as he spoke to you.

“We prefer raw humans, but fish is really good too,” Kazutora chuckled from the back seat, his claws holding onto your seat as he leaned forward.

Your eyebrows furrowed as Chifuyu flicked Kazutora’s temple, causing the tiger to shout, “Ow!”

“We like raw fish. Steak works too,” the Burmese informed you.

“Okay, cool. Is there anything else I should get? Like, do you like cat toys or scratchers or anything?”

“Goddamn, you think we’re regular cats or something?” This time, Baji’s gaze shifted to you with an eyebrow raised.

“Look, I told you guys that I didn’t buy you. I don’t know shit about hybrids, alright? Otherwise, I would’ve prepared.” You missed the glances they shared while you focused on the road.

“If you didn’t buy us, then who did?” Chifuyu questioned with curiosity, eyeing the back of your head.

“Yeah, and how’d you even afford us? Your apartment looks average compared to our last owner,” Kazutora spoke up, now leaning back in his seat while eyeing the window.

“My grandma bought you and had someone place you in my apartment. I wasn’t expecting you when I got home,” you sighed. “Honestly, this is already a lot of responsibility I didn’t ask for. I was thinking about somehow sending you back from wherever you came,” you say honestly.

“Well, I’m not going back to that shithole, so you’re gonna have to learn how to take care of us,” Baji stated.

You glanced at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, I don’t have to do shit,” you respond. “What’s up with your attitude, huh?”

“That’s just how Baji talks, Y/n,” Chifuyu said softly. “Also, if your grandmother bought us, then she signed the contract.”

Your eyes meet the Burmese through the rearview mirror. “Yeah, and?”

“Well, that means we’re bound to you for at least five years until the contract expires. Then, you’ll have to renew or return,” Kazutora explained from behind you.

“There are no refunds,” the hybrid next to the tiger added.

“How do you guys know so much about the contract? You said you had an owner before, right? How’d that go?”

“None of your business,” Baji hissed.

You must’ve struck a nerve. You made a note to yourself to never bring up their last owner.

You watch as the hybrids snatch up packs of frozen meat and piles of junk food, tossing them into your cart without a second thought. You can already tell the receipt is going to be ridiculous, and you just hope your grandmother was serious about covering the credit card bill.

Now in the electronics section, you stand by while the guys grab a gaming console, controllers, and a bunch of different games. Your expression morphs into concern as you pull out your phone, turning away slightly while dialing your grandmother.

The moment she picks up, you start explaining everything they’ve been piling into the cart, asking—no, practically begging—for reassurance that it’s okay to charge what’s bound to be an insane total. She just laughs, telling you not to worry about it and to enjoy your new companions.

Chifuyu then asks you to stop by an electronics store to get them phones, and despite your hesitation, you end up spending hours buying three different phones under your grandmother’s name.

Even though they’re grown men, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re some overwhelmed mother letting her teenage sons run wild with her credit card. It’s stifling—but you let it slide, for now. You wonder why anyone would want this kind of responsibility.

“Hey! You assholes better help bring everything in, or I’m taking all of your electronics!” you shout at the two hybrids casually strolling into the apartment, leaving you and Chifuyu outside to do the heavy lifting.

Once all four of you finally get everything inside—and after making them help you haul the crate to the dumpster—the hybrids begin setting up their electronics while you start preparing their raw fish. You follow the recipe of some hybrid owner who’s popular on social media.

When you’re finished, you set their plates on the table and call them over from their game. You leave the leftovers on the stove for them to grab, and inform them that they need to clean everything up when they’re done. Chifuyu raises a brow at you as he picks up his plate.

“You’re not gonna eat with us?” he asks, settling onto the couch, one ear twitching while his tail lazily flaps against the cushion.

Baji and Kazutora are sitting on the floor with their backs against the bottom of the sofa. The plates are set on their laps with their controllers set aside on the carpet. They both glance up at you, ears perking with curiosity.

“Nah, I’m gonna shower, then maybe order something. I only made the raw fish anyway, and I don’t eat that,” you say, scratching the back of your head before heading out of the living room.

It has been six months since you got used to your new roommates. It has become a routine—waking up, going to work while they sleep, then coming home to these guys. The first night, you forgot to tell them you had work the next morning, so you had Chifuyu and Kazutora blowing up your phone with notifications.

Despite the annoyance, it was kind of adorable, so you let it go. It was your fault for not informing them, after all. You didn’t want to admit that you actually enjoyed their presence, but honestly, it felt like what you imagined having brothers would be like.

One night, you decided to read up on cat hybrids specifically. You never finished reading the manual, and you figured now was a good time. It seemed like a smart idea, considering some of the off-putting moments you’ve had with them.

One day, you had a day off from work and decided to stay in. You were sitting between Kazutora and Baji on the sofa, playing a game on the television. Chifuyu was in the bedroom, taking a nap. When Kazutora won, he accidentally scratched both sides of your neck while grabbing your shoulders in victory, exclaiming, “Did you see that?”

You remained calm at the stinging sensation, assuming it hadn’t left any significant mark. Unbeknownst to you, a drop of red liquid began oozing from both scratches. Both hybrids’ pupils dilated as the scent of your blood brushed past their noses.

Your eyes widened as Baji’s hand pressed against your forehead, pinning your head back against the couch while both men lowered their heads, their ears flat against their skulls. Kazutora’s hand slid over your opposite hip, pulling you closer, his claws piercing the fabric of your bottoms.

You froze as two wet muscles dragged against the skin of your neck before lips closed around your wounds. A shiver ran down your spine as your knees pressed together. Your hands clenched into fists as you stared at the ceiling.

Baji licked over his own saliva before pulling back, Kazutora mimicking the motion as they released you. When you lifted your head, you watched as they picked up their controllers and went back to the game as if nothing had happened.

“Um, what the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice a little higher than usual.

“What the fuck was what?” Baji responded flatly.

“That. What you guys just did.” You frowned.

“Oh, that? We just cleaned the blood from your neck,” Kazutora shrugged.

Another time, you were in the kitchen chopping up some raw steak when you accidentally cut the skin of your middle finger.

“Ouch!” you cried, immediately rinsing the stinging area with soap and water. Chifuyu had just walked in to see what you were up to.

When you lifted your finger from the sink, you saw that blood was still seeping through the cut.

“Damnit,” you groaned.

Your attention turned to the hybrid as he suddenly snatched your wrist, both hands holding yours as he brought your finger to his mouth. He stuck his tongue out slightly, licking the blood before circling his lips around your finger, sucking it all the way in while his gaze never left yours.

Heat rushed to your face as he continued sucking the wound for a moment before pulling your finger out of his mouth and releasing you.

“You should really use a disinfectant spray on that, Y/n.”

You understood that hybrids had different societal norms than humans, so you didn’t feel as uncomfortable as you probably should have. You just blamed it on the fact that you had different perceptions of social interactions.

You were confused when you reached a certain part of the passage.

“Heat?”

Your eyes widened as you stood in the doorway of your bathroom. It was late at night, and the door had already been cracked open, so when you saw the light on, you assumed one of the guys had forgotten to turn it off—something that had happened before.

You weren’t expecting to see Baji with his exposed back turned to you, leaning against the wall with the palm of his hand pressed flat against it. His other arm was moving at a ridiculous speed while you heard wet flapping sounds. The end of his tail twitched while his ears were upright.

Your heart thumps faster against your chest as he turns back to look at you with narrowed dark eyes. His lips were apart as he breathed heavily, his arm still moving violently. You both stared at each other before you pulled the door shut.

There was another time where you had woken up to loud thudding noises from the other bedroom. Against your better judgment, you decided to walk towards the noise. When you got to the cracked door, you pushed it open slightly as you peeked into the bedroom.

Kazutora had his head down while his body rocked against the man who was penetrating him from behind. His claws were gripping the sheets as his hair fell over his shoulders. Chifuyu had his fingers wrapped around the man’s striped tail as he thrusted into him, both men glistening with sweat as they grunt and moaned loudly.

Baji had his claws grasping Chifuyu’s face from the side as he pulled him into a wet kiss, saliva streaming down onto the bed as the burmese hybrid whimpered into his partner’s mouth.

You almost gasped when you saw Kazutora lift his head, a filthy expression on his sweaty face as a pair of your panties hung from his mouth, his fangs poking through the fabric. His bright eyes were almost fully black with the large pupils covering the irises. His right ear was flat as the other stood upright. One of his eyes was slanted as the other was wide.

You sighed as you realized how helpful this knowledge would’ve been before walking into all those awkward moments.

As you read on, the document warned you of any possessive behavior the hybrids might display. It caused you to think back on any moments you might’ve had where the list of behaviors occurred.

You had just gotten home from the bar, something you don’t normally do unless it’s the weekend. When your coworker asked if you wanted to go after work, you figured that it couldn’t hurt, as you were feeling a bit more energized that day. You had stayed longer than planned as you got tipsy and a little crossed from the blunt you shared.

When you got home, you were surprised to see the three hybrids sitting on the sofa, awake. The atmosphere of the room was suffocating as you stumbled in, shutting and locking the door behind you.

“Hey guys,” you slurred, kicking your shoes off before you started walking to your bedroom. Before you could make it, a hand snatched you back, claws piercing the skin of your arm.

“Where the fuck were you?” Baji growled as he sniffed you. “And why do you smell like that?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to yank your arm out of his tight grip, to no avail.

“The bar,” you respond with confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell us that you’d be gone for that long?” Kazutora said as he walked up to your side, grasping your jaw as he forced you to eye his sharp gaze.

“Woah, what the hell? I already texted you guys that I was going out after work. Chill out,” you hissed, pulling your face from his claws as Chifuyu walked to the other side of you.

“You didn’t tell us where or for how long. That’s not fucking okay, Y/n. Did you even think about how that would make us feel?” Chifuyu spat angrily.

You noticed that all of their tails were thrashing behind them as their ears were flat against their heads. You could feel the tension rising as they glared at you, eyes narrowed sharply as they looked as though they wanted to attack.

“Hold up. Who the hell do you guys think you are to question me? In my apartment?” you questioned angrily as you grabbed Baji’s hand to pry his fingers off your arm.

It worked only until he replaced his hand on your neck and pulled you almost nose-to-nose, the expression on his face growing more feral by the second. You felt your heartbeat accelerate as you could see the pupils in his eyes growing.

“I don’t like your tone, Y/n. Who the fuck do you think you’re questioning?” He hissed, his voice eerily calm.

You could feel your feet slightly lift from the floor as you balanced yourself on the tip of your toes. You could feel the sweat beading against your skin as three pairs of eyes bore into you.

That was not an enjoyable moment at all. You felt your skin crawl at the memory. You remember the night ending with him releasing you before you rushed to your room. You couldn’t stop the tears as you had never been handled like that before.

You remembered Kazutora and Chifuyu sneaking into your room that night as they held you and whispered how much they cared about you and why they reacted the way they did. You remember shifting your position and eyeing Baji, who stood at the doorway with his arms crossed and a softer, but stern gaze on his face. None of them apologized, but they did purr and nuzzle into your neck.

It was a very weird moment, and you still don’t know what to make of it.

Another month has passed since you had read the manual. Their behavior has still been weird, but not as bad as before. You had a talk with them about their heats and told them to start keeping the door to their bedroom locked. You had also gotten them some supplies such as lube, condoms, and any other safety products to make it all easier.

You had even talked to them about the possessive behavior, and the conversation seemed to have gone well. So one night, you decided to invite a friend from your work over. You just wanted to hang out, but because you had lacked human interaction for a long time, both of you ended up making out.

You weren't planning to go any further, but you had just really enjoyed the way the man's lips felt against yours, as well as the caresses on your back. It was gentle, soft, and mesmerizing. He was gorgeous anyway, so it worked out.

Unfortunately, the door to your bedroom slammed open, and the hybrids stomped in as Baji headed straight for the human male. He snatched him from the shirt and dragged him off the bed before landing a punch on his face. You scream as Chifuyu pinned your arms down while Kazutora started stomping the guy’s stomach.

They continued to beat the man as crimson gushed from his skin, gurgling on his own blood and saliva as Kazutora dug his claws into the man’s ribs and ripped apart his torso. You gasp loudly, sitting up before Chifuyu climbed on top of you and pinned you down again. His hands grasped your face as you grabbed his shoulders, attempting to push him off.

“They’re killing him! They’re fucking killing him! Chi—Chifuyu, stop them!” You scream as he uses a palm to cover your mouth.

“Shh, shh. It’s going to be over soon,” he spoke softly as warm tears streamed down your face. Your screams are muffled behind his hand as you hear the slashing and squelching of the man’s guts being yanked out of him.

Kazutora and Baji are completely feral as they tear apart the human. Blood has splattered all over their face and naked torsos. They don’t stop, even when the man is completely still and any sign of light disappears from his eyes.

The man’s mouth hangs open as his eyes are rolled into the back of his head.

Although the hybrid in front of you is the calmest, you can see the pupils that have dilated as he also gives you a feral expression.

“You’re gonna be okay, Y/n. O—our last owner didn’t make it because he didn’t behave so you just have to relax and listen to us, alright? H—he used us and tricked us and—-we actually really, really love you and don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered with his forehead against yours as you continued to thrash under him.

Chifuyu is pulled back by the shoulder as Baji grasps your face and tugged you forward.

“I’ll hurt you if you scream so stop it,” he says, using an arm to rub against his mouth as the blood smears.

“Relax.”

Your hyperventilation slows into quiet pants as you attempt to calm down so as to not get killed. You feel exposed as all three pairs of eyes stare into you when Kazutora stands to the side of the bed. They’re all surrounding you and it’s suffocating.

“Good,” he begins.

“B—Baji, please. I—I,” your hands shake against the claws holding your face as you tug them. “I—can’t—,” you are breathless. You can’t breathe.

“Hey, we’re going to take care of the body, okay? But I need you to relax for me. Breathe,” he says.

“I'm going to be honest with you. When I saw his hands on you, it really made me want to kill you,” he said. Your face morphed as you sobbed. “Relax,” you complied as you focused on his dark eyes.

“I realize that you had no fucking idea what you were doing. You thought that it was okay, and it's our fault for not telling you before. Now you know that you belong to us. You can't bring anyone home, and you definitely can't touch anyone else, yeah? You know that, right?” Baji questioned you.

You don't agree with the conditions. You feel stupid for believing them when you had the talk about possessive behavior. You didn't realize how deep they were. The fact that something like this has happened before with their past owner makes you fearful for your life, especially since they killed him. You are hysterical and can't really think straight.

“I—I can’t—I don’t—,” you try so hard to catch your breath but you can’t stop panting.

A hand on your shoulder caused your body to jolt as you turned to the culprit.

“Hey,” Kazutora leaned in as he purred, his bloody face smearing the substance against your shoulder as he nuzzled against you. “Let’s go to another room while Baji and Fuyu clean the mess up.”

“Hey, why do I have to clean it up when you were one of the ones to kill him?” Chifuyu pouts.

“T’s not the time, Fuyu. Let’s hurry up so we can go to bed.”

“B—but the b—body? How are you gonna—?” you ask, worried that you might get blamed for your hybrids’ actions.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve killed more people than you think and nobody ever found out that it was us,” Kazutora smiled. “Let’s go,” he says before pushing you off the bed.

“You don’t know how hard it’s been for me to control myself,” Kazutora whispered against your ear as he held your naked body against his bloody torso.

The steam of the shower is suffocating along with the lack of space between both of you as the warm water rinses you both. You feel the lump in your throat as you could feel the hard structure against your bottom.

He used a hand to wrap around his cock before rubbing the tip against your vagina lips. His tail hangs low as his ears face forward. His wet hair drapes over his shoulders as he nuzzles your neck.

“Would you let me in?” He questioned, his voice soft.

“Do I even have a choice?” You question with fear laced in your tone. He chuckled in response.

“I guess not,” he said before slowly pushing himself inside of you.

[arolesbianism]

Some au antag doodles

[boycaca]

Usually I wouldn’t gaf about this and move on but two times have i seen a character that the western part of fandom has a large group of people headcanoning them as trans getting informed about a mistranslation or misinterpretation that lead the group of people headcanoning that character as trans even harder have some random ass mfs go “see they’re not transgender 😂😂 westerners always trying to make them woke 😂😂 tired of these western fans not understanding cultural differences 😂😂 now theyre gonna start calling you transphobic be careful op 😂😂” when the original post never even denied that headcanon and was simply spreading information…. I find it so odd that these people are so quick to denying a simple headcanon that doesnt affect them at all. Or maybe im just looking too deep into it idk