#Like they need the ability to pass as straight in order to be comfortable

[honeylemony]

What are peopls thoughts on this. Commenter is transfem.

[alexiswritingstuff]

Everyone can heal.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader

Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.

Genre: hurt/comfort.

Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.

This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.

A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!

Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!

I hope you enjoy!!

Logan masterlist.

It had been a long few days.

It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.

Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.

But you wanted to learn. Or... did.

The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.

See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.

It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.

Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.

Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... could’ve been more.

But you couldn't exactly blame him.

This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.

He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.

It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.

The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.

It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed. 

You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer. 

It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.

The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.

It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.

Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.

Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.

The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.

Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.

He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.

His eyes were closed.

At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.

Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.

Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.

Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.

Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.

You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.

You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--

And then bam.

Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.

In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.

“Whoa-- hey!”

He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.

They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.

It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.

“Logan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,” you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, “Look, it's me!” And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in. 

He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.

But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.

Until his gaze lowered.

Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.

So, why did something sound like it was dripping?

“Y/n.”

By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. “Shit.”

You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.

“Logan?” You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.

There was your answer. “Oh.”

Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?

“Fuck,” Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. “I'm…”

“I'm sorry,” he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, “I'm so sorry.”

His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.

“Logan,” You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, “Hey, look, I'm fine, okay?” you started louder, more insistent, “It doesn't hurt.”

Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. “I'm sorry.”

He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.

“No, wait,” You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, “Logan?”

You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.

But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.

~~~

The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.

It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.

You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.

But that was the last thing on your mind.

You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.

Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.

You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.

Until today.

A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.

The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.

It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.

In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.

Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.

Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.

So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.

Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.

More so who.

Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.

Logan.

He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.

There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Logan–” you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, “Just let me talk,” He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. “Okay?”

You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. “I'm sure you already know,” he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, “about the... nightmares.”

It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.

“Some are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, but…” Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. “There are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'm…”

“I'm the one doing it.” It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, “I'm the one hurting people.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry.”

“Logan,” you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. “I'm so sorry.”

You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, “Hey,” Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.

It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.

But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.

“Hey, look at me,” you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldn’t want to back off. “Look at me.” 

The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. “I'm fine.” you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, “I hurt you.”

“It was an accident,” Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said should’ve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, “Accident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.” His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.

“And, I'm still here, Logan.”

You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.

A little scratch was nothing. “It was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.” you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, “What-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?”

“No!” you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. “No, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.”

You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.

“See?”

Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.

They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.

“You…” He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. “You can regenerate?”

“Granted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.” you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.

Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.

“Are you serious?” The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. “Yep.” You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, “You can heal.” 

Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I... I don't really know what else you want me to say.” Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles. 

It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.

I guess it just slipped your mind.

“So, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?” The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.

“A damsel?” you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. “You stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?”

That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. “No,” you started, this time with a deeper voice. “No, I didn't-- You know, why?”

“Why?” Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.

He was supposed to be relieved.

“Maybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!”

The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.

The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.

You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.

It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss. 

Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?

Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired. 

Just a different kind.

You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.

Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.

By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.

You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, “I get them too, you know... Nightmares.”

There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, “I wouldn't go about comparing them,” 

“But, I understand enough to know what it's like.”

Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. “You shouldn't have to.” 

He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. “Neither should you.. yet,” you paused, shrugging your shoulders, “Here we are.”

This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, “At least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.” 

The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it. 

But Logan practically snorted. “Shut up.” he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didn’t hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, “I could even say that I defeated him.” 

In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, “Okay,” He swallowed, “you did not defeat me, bub.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. “You were done after one move.”

Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.

“I was distracted.” he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. “Excuses, excuses,” was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.

Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.

He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.

“I don't want it to happen again.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.

“Logan,” you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.

You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.

You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, “Even if it did, I am not going anywhere.”

There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.

Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.

By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.

Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further. 

His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasn’t putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.

An extra weight that you were glad to carry.

[zkg2318]

Blood on Fire ~ pt. 2 | SJY

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

genre/tags/warnings for this part ✶ MDNI, reverse harem!hyung line x afab!reader, angst, smut, gore and violence, supernatural themes, stabbing, mentions of alcohol, blood, verbal and physical violence, manipulation, fightclub au, ot7

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

WC ✶ 16.4k

Part 1

smut warnings under the cut

smut warnings ✶ monster erotica (obviously), breeding kink, dry humping, love biting, mix of praise and degradation, oral male!receiving, slight choking, fingering, unprotected sex (stop)

Coming into the gym the next evening, you notice the atmosphere is noticeably lighter, the tension from before seemingly lifted into thin air. You notice K first, towering over the others as he stands amongst the six other boys standing around him. “You guys are early,” you observe, dropping your gym bag onto the bench beside you. 

When you pass by Jake, the muscles in his jaw tighten while the hairs on his neck stand straight like the hackles of a tense wolf. His face twists into a scowl as he watches you pass him. You pretend not to notice his reaction, likely residual distaste from the question you asked him yesterday. “Are we all buddy-buddy now?” you ask, eyeing the proximity of the group with suspicion in your gaze. You narrow your eyes at the group, a huddle of boys that stand too close for comfort, their shoulders brushing against each other as they chip at the other’s pride in friendly banter. 

Jungwon and Sunoo exchange a quick glance when they catch on to the tone in your voice, prompting them to shift awkwardly in their stance as they wait for someone to answer. Niki steps up to the battering plate, a large grin on his face as he addresses you, “K came in early to apologize to Heeseung and talk to us about where his outburst came from.” Niki’s voice carries a note of relief as he gestures over towards K and Heeseung, but you notice that Heeseung doesn’t lift his gaze to meet K’s when the taller boy looks down at him. In fact, he doesn’t look at anyone for that matter. “We had a chance to clear the air up before today’s session.” 

You look around for a second before nodding, not wanting to dwell in the past any longer. There was no need to dig any deeper- it wasn’t your business to pry anyways. Remaining ignorant has been conditioned into you by the age of 8. “Ok, well today will be pretty laid back now. Just focus on your own thing, no sparring or training room today.” 

The boys respond to your instructions with a chorus of yes’s, quickly breaking off into two groups and migrating to their preferred areas. Jungwon, Niki, and Sunoo head for the squat rack, settling into an easy rhythm as Niki sets up the weights while Sunoo and Jungwon begin with a leg warm up. Meanwhile, K, Heeseung, Jake, and Jay move towards the bench press, their arms flailing as they debate about who gets to go first. 

When you hear a door slam shut, you whip around to see Minnie and Yuqi entering the gym accompanied by a few unfamiliar faces following after them. Minnie’s face lights up when she spots you, her body developing a yellow glow as she unlinks her arm from Yuqi’s and runs to you. She greets you with a wide smile, one that melts away the tense knot straining against your heart as she pulls you into a warm hug. “Hi!”

Yuqi catches up to Minnie, opting to stand off to the side with her arms crossed and a reserved expression lined across her face. “I came down to help train the other folks that just came in,” she explains, offering you a warm smile that’s juxtaposed to the reserved one seconds ago, “You don’t have to worry about them.” 

Minnie’s eyes sweep across the room, scanning around for the seven boys. She has an expectant gaze in her eyes, one that shines with joy. “Is everyone here already?”

“Just waiting for Sunghoon,” you tell her, “The maknaes are over by the squat rack if you want to head over there. I’ll be with the others.” 

Minnie nods her head at you excitedly and skips away to the squat racks, flashing a bright smile at the younger boys. You can’t help but grin to yourself as you catch bits and pieces of her friendly exchange with them, her teasing remarks about Niki’s squat form earning a bloom of red on his cheeks. When Yuqi takes her leave, you walk over to the benches where your own group is, catching them mid-conversation on whatever it is they were talking about. 

“You really shot fire out of your nose?” Jake asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he bounces his leg up and down on the bench. 

“Again?” Heeseung clarifies.

You clear your throat, making the group aware of your presence as you shoot them a questionable expression. “Did I interrupt something?” 

“Definitely not.” Jay says, shooting them a look. 

You move around to the front of the bench, facing Jake who is now avoiding your gaze. “Right… Well, as much as I would love to learn more about your flaming boogers, I do want to see you guys bench press without the distractions.” 

Jay’s cheeks burn red as he quickly shoves Jake off the bench in embarrassment, earning a strong jab to Jay’s shoulder. “Damnit!” Jake growls, his face twisting into a grimace as he raises his fist up to his mouth to suck on the blood that starts to drip from his knuckles. You shift around the bench to peer at Jake’s hand, watching as his tongue laps at the wound vigorously until there’s nothing but unbroken skin replacing what was once a nasty cut. 

“Why do you think we wear wraps when we spar?” Jay says with dripping sarcasm, moving to plant his feet firmly against the ground and arching his back off the bench slightly. Your eyes trail down Jay’s body, stopping when they land the gleaming molten of Jay’s dragon scales dawning his shoulders. Realization clicks in your head and you let a small chuckle escape your lips- Jake must’ve sliced himself on Jay’s scale armor. They’re identical to the ones you saw on his back when you not so casually roped him into a pull-up contest on your first day. 

A rhythmic flow of conversation continues to course through you and the boys as Jay powers through 8 reps on the bench like it’s nothing, muscles rippling like a coil with every motion.

For the first time in your life, a sense of complacency washes over you. For once in your life, you let go of that long-held breath that had been keeping you underwater for so long. Constantly looking over your shoulders in fear of being caught etched a long-lasting knot in your shoulder you weren’t sure was gonna go away, but it seems like it has. 

Here, in this space, you’re surrounded by people just like you, mirroring both the anxiety and the anger that has ridden itself so deep within you. Here, you let your guard down. But this moment is short-lived, just a fragile illusion blinding you to a brewing storm that gathers just beyond the horizon. 

The doors to the Dusk gym slam open, the chains on the outside of it snapping with a force that only heavy machinery could break. A group of men, clad in matching blue uniforms march inside, their polished black boots echoing against the ground as their presence silences all other activity. “Routine government inspection!” The lead inspector announces, his voice booming with authority as he surveys the space before him. “Please resume your activities as normal.” 

The world seems to tilt in that moment, filling with a suffocating air that leaves you breathless. There’s a dark void that puts itself in the seat of your stomach, waving at you with a taunt as if to say, you really thought. Your feet seem to grow 50 pound weights on them as the officials get closer, keeping you rooted to the spot. The freeze part of fight, flight, or freeze activates without the help of Sunghoon staring daggers into your back this time. 

The official’s words do little to ease the tension as you feel a rise of panic wash through you, a ripple of unease rattling your core. The boys beside you begin to murmur in a panic as they instinctively move to crowd around you, as if proximity alone could shield you from the horrors of the government- but you pay no attention to it as your eyes shoot over to Yuqi, naturally finding her presence like a beacon in the midst of the sudden chaos. She maneuvers her way over to you with Minnie not trailing far behind.

“They’re going to kill us all!” Niki’s panicked voice cuts through your fragile storm as he joins the group along with the rest of the maknaes, their unease mirroring the rest of the gym’s murmured anxieties. 

“What the hell do we do?” you whisper, bile rising in your throat as its acidity begins to scorch your esophagus, threatening to choke you. 

Yuqi looks just as scared as you do, and for a moment, she lets her snake eyes widen with worry before she composes herself. “Calm down,” she hisses, taking a moment to let her eyes change color and her pupils expand to that of a humans. “We need to get suppressants on every member before they finish setting up their scanners.” Her voice is rushed and tight as she tugs on Minni’s hand. 

All three of your eyes flick over towards the group of officials, their movements a blur of blue as they set up folding tables. They work efficiently to get scanners up onto the surfaces, the metal clanging with every touch. The threatening metal gleams under the harsh lighting of the gym, only reminding you of the nightmares that they bring. “Minnie,” Yuqi whispers. “I have a box of emergency suppressants under my desk- we need at least 14 of them. Bring them straight to me and do not let anyone see you.” 

With an affirmative nod, Minnie runs off, careful not to bring any attention to herself as she slips away from the crowd and disappears upstairs. “I’ll handle everything else,” Yuqi finishes, “I’ll let the other gym members know what’s going on. Can you let the boys know?” 

You nod your head at her, waiting for her to leave first before turning around. When she does, you take that moment by yourself to swallow the lump in your throat, the nausea in your stomach rolling like the ocean. With a shaky breath, you turn around and make your way back toward the bench where the remainder of the boys have now clustered, their whispered conversation barely audible over the clang of equipment being moved around.

“Everyone breathe, they’re just posturing.” K’s voice stands out amongst the rest, his usual air of confidence sweeping through the circle of boys. 

Jay shakes his shoulders and twists his face into a grimace, “How can you be so sure?” he questions, an evident look of anger on his face. 

“If they were so serious about this inspection and arresting the supernatural, they would just use those hand-held scanners,” K explains, leaning forward as he lowers his voice, “It’d be a hell of a lot more efficient and time-productive to use those instead of setting these stupid machines up. They’re only used on the trucks when they go out for their nighttime patrols. This whole setup is just a show to see if any of us panic, if we just act normal, they’ll pack up and leave.” 

Jake lets out a scoff and kicks the air in annoyance, shuffling away from you when you come to join the discussion, “That’s a complete load of bull.” The other boys nod in agreement, seemingly apprehensive in believing K’s words. 

K straightens up, brushing off Jake’s comment. “I’ll talk to them, get them to go away.” He breaks off from the impromptu circle that had formed around the bench and walks away, confidence radiating in his strides. Before he can get too far, you intercept K as he pulls away from the group, wrapping a hand around his forearm. 

“Don’t,” you urge, voice low so no one else hears, “We’re going to use suppressants, so don’t.” 

K gives you a look that you can’t quite decipher before tearing his arm free from your grip, continuing ahead without a word. The sudden absence leaves a ghost of tension in your heart, fingers tingling with a trembling heat that has you rooted to the spot. You hesitate in your spot, frustration clawing its way up your throat as you force yourself to trail after him, each step feeling heavier than the last. 

The air grows cold and distant as you observe K, his usual confident stride not faltering as he gets closer to the enforcement division. You feel insignificant to his cause, like a kicked puppy that chases after their master despite the abuse. The boys close in behind you, the weight of their presence holding you from getting any closer to K as he approaches a burly man with a golden badge clipped to his belt, one that the rest don’t. 

Your breath catches in your throat when you see K’s slender hand reach up to tap the man on the shoulder, “Hey, are you the one in charge of everything?” he asks.

“That’s correct,” the man turns around to face K. His gaze sweeps over the tall boy, slow and encroaching as though he’s sizing him up like a school bully. His face is worn out, fine wrinkles gracing his features as he stares hard at K. A quick glance at the rest of the officials has you realizing that they’re all very similar in age, sporting the same weathered look on their faces. Your mind jumps to the worst case scenario; if K fucked up, it’d be easy to eliminate those grandpas but the fallout would be messy to clean up. And that’s not considering the trouble later down the line that the unnecessary violence would bring. “Did you need something?”

K straightens his posture, jutting his chest out to appear more composed than how he feels. “I understand you have a job to do,” he begins, voice holding steady as he confronts the man, “but we do too. You’re wasting your time here.”

The man’s brow raises at the statement, his expression turning from annoyed to intrigued. “And why is that?”

The official’s response feeding into K’s claims has him high off of confidence, allowing him to continue with his confrontation with ease. “We had a government inspection last month.” He pulls out his phone and shows the man an image that neither you or the rest of the group could see. “We were cleared then, and we’ll be cleared now. Government inspections are only supposed to be conducted every 6 months, it’s not our fault the enforcement division can’t keep their records straight.” 

The man looks wary, like he’s swayed to believe K’s proclamations, but his next response has that little resolve in you shattering. “Well, then you should have no problem letting us inspect your building.” 

It’s like K wasn’t expecting the official to turn this on him, his face twisting into a small scowl. He whispers something to the official before taking a step back. “You’re correct, but right now, we are preparing to receive some high-profile clients for some weight training, and any disruption to their schedule will be noticed. I’m sure you wouldn’t want any complaints about wasting time and resources to reach your superiors, would you?” 

The official presses his lips into a thin line, turning to glance back at his team. A thick silence follows after K, stretching on with every second that goes by. You hold your breath out of fear, feeling the thread of your pulse intensify and beat against your throat. Minnie finally comes down from the office, a hand bag hanging from your shoulder. She slips into the crowd behind you, nudging Yuqi in the side. You worry her movements may have alerted the team to her presence, but it’s almost like they’re looking for a reason outside of K’s words to not stay. 

Finally, the man turns back and lets out a long breath. “Fine, but only because we’re running behind schedule already.” 

With a quick flick of the hand, the officials begin to dismantle their equipment. Your jaw hangs open as you watch them leave, their presence disappearing as quickly as they appeared. Shock roots you to the spot as you stand there for a moment, disbelief rearranging your guts as you try to make sense of what just happened.

When K turns around, a huge smirk is plastered across his face and you step out of your haze to yell at him. “What the hell?” you snap, your voice breaking through the timid silence. “That could’ve gone so wrong!”

“But it didn’t,” he says, shrugging like he knew it was going to work out in the end. 

Anger courses through your veins and you nearly punch the smirk off his face, clenching your fists at your side. You were mad, mad that he so carelessly risked everything to confront the government official. You’re upset with the way he thinks he can just act on impulse like that, as if his existence wasn’t also a threat to the government. You watch as K sinks down onto one of the side benches, casually tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants like he hadn’t just risked his entire life on a fucking gamble. Before you can say anything more, Yuqi steps forward. 

“That was extremely reckless K,” she starts, her voice sharp as she pushes up the frame of her glasses, “You could’ve had all of us arrested-”

“I don’t know,” Jake interrupts, his tone lighthearted as he crosses his arms, “I found it pretty damn impressive.” 

“No one fucking asked you,” Sunghoon grumbles, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he clenches his fist.

The group erupts into a cacophony of back and forth, their debate ping-ponging between heavy accusations and lame defenses. The majority of the group sides with K, finding his actions admirable yet impulsive. The others, including you, Yuqi, and Jay disagree and state that it would have been better to stick with the suppressants. You find the majority of the group is handling this far too lightly, like you weren’t dancing on the outskirts of jail just minutes ago. 

Amidst the loud and likely disruptive discussion, Jungwon stands off to the side in silence with his gaze fixed on the floor. His usual bright demeanor is overshadowed by a sudden solemness, an uncharacteristic stillness evading his body.  Your gaze follows his moving body, one that is slowly backing away from the group. His grief stricken expression feels like a warning bell ringing in the back of your mind. You barely have the time to run through the concern in your head to notice his arms crossed tightly across his chest before you’re pulled back into the discussion. 

“Guys, let’s just move on!” Sunoo says, flailing his hands into the air to express his annoyance. “K, thank you for getting them off our backs.” Quickly thanking K, he walks away from the group and moves to start packing up his bag. 

Yuqi sighs next to you, frustration clearly evident in the way she holds her hands on her hips. “I think it’s best if we all just go home.” She announces, straightening out her silk blouse. Her voice is charged with authority, leaving no room for argument as she turns to walk away. Minnie springs in her steps and joins Yuqi, linking her arm in hers. The rest of the boys mumble in agreement, moving like zombies to collect their belongings; some on the bench and some in the locker room. 

You linger in the tense space, the weight of the evening settling into your chest. You feel glued to the ground. The echo of the group's argument and yesterday’s heated intercourse with Heeseung float in the back of your mind like a tape on loop, holding you hostage in your spot. It feels suffocating, disabling you from drawing in a full breath as you fight your own thoughts. The air around you is heavy, weighed down by the storm of the conflict drenching your clothes. When would this back and forth with the government and the supernatural end? The thought nags at you, rooting its claws into your brain as tension builds in your shoulders.

Heeseung seems to pick up on your frozen troubles, smirking as he brushes past you to leave for the day. Your head loops back to yesterday and burdens your anxiety, replaying the way his hands travelled your body as if he had mapped you out a thousand times before. You didn’t know much about vampiric rage, but seeing it first hand had done enough for you to fear him- or want him, you weren’t sure. You swallow down the lump growing in your throat and glance back at Heeseung, letting your gaze linger a bit too long on his back as he walks away from you. 

You let out a breathy sigh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. The 15 minute walk back to your place is done in utter silence, the only noise permeating through the evening air being the sound of your steps. Jungwon’s uncharacteristic behavior sticks into your side like a thorn and for some reason, you just can’t shake it. And K- his confidence was unsettling, rehearsed even. When you finally make it to your apartment, you don’t bother with unpacking your gym bag or changing out of your clothes. Although you didn’t really do much physically, the emotional turmoil of almost coming face to face with the end of your freedom stunted whatever energy you had left. Instead, exhaustion consumes you and you fall into an uneasy sleep on your bed. 

When you wake up, it’s still dark outside which means it couldn’t have been past 5 am when a sharp knock on your window pulls you out of your slumber. You don’t care to check the clock though, too distracted by the rhythmic pattern of something hitting your window. 

“What the-” you mutter, shuffling over to your window. You push open the glass and peer outside, straining your eyes to see past the few trees impending your vision. There’s nothing. You’re starting to wonder if you had imagined the noise, moving to shut the window. But as it’s about to close, something heavy slams into your chest, sending you backwards onto the floor. 

Instinct kicks in and you immediately throw whatever it is off of you with supernatural strength. You flick your hand out and a ball of flame engulfs your limb, lighting up the dark room. The glow of your hand is bright enough to reach whatever slammed into you, revealing a large ball of fur. The mass is sprawled out on your kitchen counter while the doors to the cabinets above it hang by a nail. It lets out a guttural whimper and you move to switch the light on. When the pathetic bulb sputters to life, the ball of fur melts away and transforms into flesh. Jake. 

He lies on your counter in front of you clutching at his side while he groans out in pain. His limbs kick off everything that was once neatly organized on your counter, the sheer size of him displacing everything in his path. “What the hell?” You shriek, extinguishing the embers in your palm. 

“WHY’D YOU THROW ME?” He screams, rubbing his side as he clumsily falls off of your counter. 

You throw him a look as you move to pick up your things, slamming them back on the counter with an annoyed thud. “You launched yourself through my window.” You baffle, wide eyed as you look at him. “Was I supposed to welcome you with open arms and a pat on the head?”

“Yeah, maybe even a kiss on the forehead.” He mutters, brushing his white t-shirt down as he takes a few steps towards you. 

You narrow your eyes at him and hold your hand out to stop him before he gets any closer. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Being a creep,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “How did you even find me?”

He lets out a forced chuckle, lips forming into a cocky smirk as he swats your hand away. “I’m a werewolf, Y/n.” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I followed your scent. And I’m here because I want to claim you.” He forces himself into your space, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and drawing in a deep inhale.

You move your hands up to push against his chest, trying to pry him off of you but he doesn’t budge, only nuzzles in closer. “So you get to ignore me all day and scowl whenever I get too close to you, and then barge into my home and ruin my kitchen? Then suddenly you think you can claim me, whatever the hell that means?”

Jake pushes his hand against your mouth, shutting you up indefinitely as he continues his endeavors on your neck. “Stop talking,” he mumbles in between licks. The taste of your skin has Jake growling, your scent practically melting into his taste buds with every flick of his muscle. His warm tongue has you shaking under his hold and you instinctively tangle your fingers through his hair. “You smell so good,” he moans before rubbing himself against your thigh, using you as relief for his growing member.

With your scent getting him off like a dog in heat, he moves a hand down to your chest and gropes at the skin with desperate fervor, kneading the fat like dough. “Can’t believe you let Heeseung touch you,” he growls, nipping along your jaw. You let out a tiny whimper when his canines pinch your jaw, flinching away from his bites. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to control myself when you came into the gym today smelling like that fucking vampire?” 

“I thought you guys were friends?” you say through broken breaths, writhing around in his grip. His wolf-like hold on you is unyielding, his sharp fingernails digging into your skin as you continue to move in his hold. 

“We are, but that doesn’t mean he gets to have you.” 

“Why does it matter so much to you if I slept with him?” 

“Why do you ask so many fucking questions?” He buries his face into your shoulder while pushing you down onto your unmade bed, dragging himself down your body while his canines scrape your skin. He slots himself between your thighs, forcing them apart with his body. With Jake’s body on top of yours, you can’t deny the rush of emotions pulsing through you as he fucks you with his eyes. “So pretty, but so dirty.” Jake talks like he’s forcing some sort of claim on you, a completely different act of intimacy than with Heeseung. 

Feeling overwhelmed, you let your hands wander to his back, finding their way under his shirt. You guide the fabric of his top up his back and drag your fingers across the ripple of his back muscles as he climbs around your body, claiming every inch of your skin with a harsh kiss. “Fuck, you’re not close enough.” He growls, roughly pulling you into his body. 

The tough fabric of his denim jeans rub against your core which elicits an involuntary moan that only fuels Jake’s blind desire to have you. “Make that noise again.”

You press your mouth shut, an act of defiance in response to his intrusion into both your apartment and your body. Angry, Jake puts a hand up to your throat and bares his teeth in a snarl, “I said, make that noise again.” 

His eyes glow with fury and he presses into you, grinding his hips into your core while shoving his tongue into your mouth. Another moan escapes you as you melt into his fast kisses, his tongue connecting with yours as you fight for dominance. The proximity of your bodies and the feeling of his wet tongue sliding into you mouth has your core burning with arousal. The seat of your panties are drenched with an embarrassing amount of slickness and he can feel the dampness of your underwear as he presses his hard on against you once more. 

His grip on your neck tightens as he smiles into the kiss, thumb pressing gently against your carotid. You grow light headed as time goes on, absolutely drunk on the warmth of his lips against yours. He presses open mouthed kisses into your mouth for what feels like hours. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of breaks between kissing or the hand around your throat, but your vision begins to turn white as he moans into your mouth. When a gasp for air escapes you, he lets go, parting from your red face with a sneer. You reach out for his body, whining at the sudden loss but he just laughs. “Please…” you whimper, letting yourself go as arousal takes over. 

“I knew you’d beg,” he pulls off of you completely now so he can take his jeans on, revealing what looks to be a painfully hard cock straining against the fabric of his black briefs. “Suck me off, pup.”

You scramble to get to your knees, settling between his legs while he rests against your headboard. His eyes bore into yours with an expectant gaze and you feel an overwhelming urge to submit. With his gaze piercing through you, you move your hand to rest above his pelvic bone but not yet touching where he needs you most. Before you can hook your fingers under his briefs, he grabs your wrist and pulls your attention away from the aching bulge staring at you. “I said suck me off, use your mouth. No hands.”

You cower under his words, red blooming across your face. Was he expecting you to take his underwear off with your mouth? “You can do it, I know you can, puppy.” He looks at you with an encouraging stare when you lean down to rest your head on his hip. With the affirmative nod of Jake, you move to bite at the waistband of his briefs. The fabric slips against your tongue and you wince as the taste of his musk and the underwears cotton fills your mouth. 

With a little more effort, you manage to pull his briefs down far enough for his cock to spring free. It slaps loudly against his abdomen, beads of precum glistening under your one light. It sits there staring at you, waiting for stimulation. With a quick swipe of your tongue across your lips, you give Jake a brief look before licking a stripe up the shaft of his cock. As you eventually make your way to putting him into your mouth, a loud moan rips from his throat. With his dick in your mouth, a set of tears spring out of your eyes when you take him further. It’s warm and there’s nothing you can compare the feeling of having his heaviness in your mouth. It’s addicting. You swallow him whole, allowing him to feel your throat close around his length when you do. 

You swirl your tongue around the top whenever you round off his dick, but it must not be enough. Jake grows desperate and brings his hands to your head to push you down. The sudden change in pace has you gagging around his length, the tip massaging the back of your throat in a way that only stimulates more tears to rim your eyes. You mumble with his cock in your mouth, you yourself unsure of what you’re trying to say. He shudders beneath you as your voice sends vibrations through his spine. 

Jake eventually resorts to controlling your pace by jutting his hips into your face, holding you still by the firm grip he has on your hair. One hand is covering his mouth while the other holds you down on his cock to take as much of him as you can. “Fuck, take it. Take my cock just like that.” He chants, over and over again as your drool pools around the base of his cock. 

You’ve stopped using your tongue by the time his thrusts get messier. By now, you’re just a hole for him to use and you’ve resorted to using bits of suction to give him pleasure. “Gonna cum in your mouth, fuck-” with one last groan, he stutters to a stop in your mouth. You feel the thickness of his cock twitch in your mouth as the first spurts of cum are released, coating your mouth until it’s all you can taste. 

When he pulls his cock out, you move to present yourself to him, sticking your tongue out to show him the lackluster traces of cum that weren’t swallowed. He’s almost ashamed to admit how quickly he stiffens up again, seeing your red and tear-streaked face presenting to him your mouth full of cum. 

He grabs you by the throat and slams you onto your back, tearing your bottoms and panties off in one go. He slides a finger between your folds and groans when your slick drips down his fingers. Jake doesn’t yet entertain the idea of plunging a finger in, satisfied with listening to your desperate whines while he plays around with your clit. “You like sucking me off so bad you got wet? You slutty pup.” 

You should feel humiliated while you lay before Jake with your pussy on full display for him to ravage- but you don’t. You feel exhilarated, almost sharing the same high that Jake is on as he drinks you in. Shutting your eyes as if that will do anything to mitigate the said humiliation any other person would be feeling right now, you gasp when Jake shoves a finger in. You feel like there’s poison coursing through your body, toxic and drunk off of Jake’s fingers sliding into you. You whine beneath him, wiggling your hips to rub your clit against his palm. 

“Look at yourself, you desperate fucking puppy.” He’s quick to shove a second finger in, growing impatient.Your breath catches in your throat and he looks up to see your head thrown back in pleasure. Jake lets out a dark chuckle as his fingers continue to reach places you’ve never managed to hit yourself, the tip of his digits grazing the spongy end of your cervix. You’re practically melting under him, letting your muscles sheath his fingers and coat them in your arousal. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your first high, your cunt squeezing around his digits tightly as a pleasurable warmth shoots through you. 

He establishes a consistent pace to fuck his fingers into you while your body shakes from the aftershock of your first orgasm. “Keep taking it, you’re doing so well for me.” He moans greedily while his fingers kiss your cervix. Your vision blows white as he continues to shove his fingers into your gaping hole, scissoring them to stretch you out even further. 

“Jake-” you pant, desperate for more. “Your cock…I- I need it.” 

Jake all but moans as he withdraws his cum soaked fingers back, hurriedly shoving you up your bed so he can straddle you between your legs. “Gonna fuck your little hole now,” he growls, tearing your legs apart and sliding his cock up and down your entrance. With a heavy grip clutching around the base of his cock, he slaps his member against your folds and smirks when he hears the wet slap reverberate back at him. Without giving you a warning, he pushes in and leaves you to take him all in one go. “Just a hole for my cock, huh?” 

You anxiously tap your fingers along his hip, the only way for you to get his attention because your breath is caught in your throat. “-too much!” you cry out, biting your lip until the tangy flavor of iron coats your tongue. 

He ignores you and starts to piston his hips into yours. “You look so fucking good letting me ruin you,” he chokes, bruising your hips as he holds onto you for support. “Bet Heeseung couldn’t fuck you this good.” His balls slap against your cunt with every thrust, the extra stimulation bringing you brief bouts of pleasure. “Bet his dick couldn’t split you open like mine does.”

A sound scarily close to a sob tumbles from your lips and Jake pauses for a brief second to check on you. “What, too much?” You can’t tell by the way his dick is shoved into your cunt if he’s asking out of concern or to taunt you, but the laugh that falls from his lips after gives you your answer. You resort to focus solely on the way Jake slides in and out of you with ease, the slam of his hips working at such a strength that leaves you short of breath. “Keep your eyes open, Y/n.” he commands, moving his hands from your hips to behind your knees as he raises them in the air. With the new grip, he manages to push into you at a deeper angle, hammering into your g-spot with every other thrust now.

“J-Jake!” You cry out, squeezing around him as that all familiar high begins to grow once more. “It’s too much, I- I think I’m g-gonna cum!”

“Then cum, puppy.” As if you were waiting for his words of approval, you let yourself go and feel the force of your arousal send you into a wave of spasms. A white ring forms around the girth of Jake’s dick as he continues to drill himself into your pussy, plunging in and out of you with a relentless pace that leaves you breathless. “Gonna fill you up with so much cum, breed you full of my puppies.” 

He continues to rut against you as your orgasm runs its course, leaving you overstimulated and hot. Every touch down there lights your nerves on fire, but you want more. “Yes- yes! Give it to me!” You beg, clawing at Jake’s back. 

He tucks his bottom lip into his teeth, “Pump you full of my cum, yeah?” His hands come down to wrap around your neck, using you as leverage to hold him up. “My own personal cumslut? You want my fucking pups so bad, huh?” His hips stutter in pace as he gets closer to the edge. He's reached a loss of words as his sole focus goes into chasing his own high, mindlessly squeezing the sides of your neck. 

Your body moves violently against the bed with every thrust, an animalistic pace blinding Jake. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He pants into your ear and drapes his sweat body over yours as his thrusts slow down. You feel the size of him twitch rapidly inside of you as jets of cum spurt out and coat your velvet walls. He breathes hard into your ear, shell shocked by the amount of cum squirting out of his slit. You turn your head to see Jake work himself through his orgasm, lips parted as he lets out a string of groans. 

As he slows to a stop, you let your body fall limp as your womb swells with his arousal Jake. He stays like that for a minute and breathes out a few pants before slipping out of you. Fatigue washes over you and you pass out before you catch the look on his face. 

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Jake saunters into the gym, a dark gloom clinging to him like a shadow, but he perks up when his eyes land on your talkative figure sitting between Sunghoon and Heeseung. His strides become longer and more energetic as he makes his way over to you, sliding onto the bench before you with an annoying ease. When he sits down, he makes sure to bump into you, taking that chance to wrap his arms around you, ignoring the looks of pure judgement from his friends when he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like a man starved.

“Jeez, why don’t you piss on her while you’re at it.” Sunghoon says, rolling his eyes as he watches Jake practically salivate at the mere scent of you. 

“I might just do that.” Jake growls, snapping at Sunghoon.

You shove the werewolf with a sigh, exasperation evident in your posture. “How about we begin with sparring today. Jake, go find the rest of the boys.” You look towards Jake with an expectant stare, but all you get in return is his big sad eyes staring back at you.

“Why does everyone always ask me to find everyone for training?” He complains, reluctantly standing up from his spot on the bench. 

“Because we need to make use of your puppy powers somehow,” Niki coos, pressing a finger on Jake’s nose with an over exaggerated ‘boop.’ Jake grunts, swiftly moving to turn Niki around, locking his arms behind him. Niki lets out a strangled groan and begs for remorse as he wiggles out of his group. “Say that shit again.” 

“Ok, idiots,” you cut in, walking away from them and towards the arena. “You guys have a match in less than two weeks, so let’s focus on sparring. I’ll meet with each of you individually throughout the day. Sunghoon, I’ll start with you first.” 

In the corner of your eye, you see Jake slouch away to go find the missing members while Niki and Heeseung slip into the arena. Sunghoon silently follows you into the training room.

“Ok,” you say as you step onto the mats. “I want to focus on your sparring techniques today, see if it needs any fine-tuning.” 

Sunghoon wordlessly steps forward until he’s inches from invading your personal space. His dark eyes bore into yours with an intensity you can’t quite define. “I don’t need help.” He speaks with finality, but you deny him the pleasure of skipping out on sparring with you. 

“Well that’s too bad.” You say, pulling a pair of boxing wrap from the shelf near you. Unfazed by his predatory gaze, you start to wrap your hands in the black fabric, the straps fitting snugly around your fingers. “Show me you don’t need help, and I’ll back off.” 

You raise your hands up into a defensive stance, waiting for Sunghoon to match your posture but he doesn’t. Instead, he surges forward and kicks his leg at you, sweeping the feet out from under you. You land unceremoniously on your ass with an embarrassing ‘oof.’ 

“Do you need more proof?” 

You roll your eyes and get back up to resume your stance, this time, your eyes glow orange. “Why don’t we do this properly, first. Or are you afraid of a fair fight?” Your taunting is enough to get Sunghoon moving, mirroring your stance with an annoyed grunt. “Great, now we can start.”

You begin to circle him, moving around him in a counterclockwise direction like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It’s Sunghoon that breaks the rhythm, lunging at you with a sharp jab that’s aimed at your face. You duck out of the way just in time and shoot back a swift body shot, hitting his left side with more strength than necessary. He stumbles back with a soft grunt, briefly clutching his side before recovering and swinging his leg up at your head. 

His movements knock you off kilter, the stone wall of his calf ricocheting off your skull. You land back onto the mat again, this time clutching at your head. On the floor, you clutch your head and a feedback of warmth spreads through your skull quickly, flooding you with relief before the oncoming ache envelops you. “That’s illegal!” you spit, getting back up.

“Nothing in fight club is illegal until you yell stop, go limp, or tap out!” he counters your words with venom dripping from his words while he stares at you like he’s trying to tear you apart from the inside. 

“Fine,” you say between gritted teeth. Regaining your composure rather quickly, you surge toward him and unleash a flurry of punches that are too fast for him to keep up with. His eyes dart back and forth between your moving limbs, dodging whatever it is that he can but he tires out quickly. Sunghoon becomes  disoriented and fails to dodge your kick to his stomach, sending him flying across the room and into the wall, knocking the air out of him. 

He slumps to the ground with a sickening thud and you smirk, reveling in your small victory. When he looks back up at you, you realize your sense of pride is shortcoming. He sticks out his hand and suddenly the ground beneath you turns into ice, causing you to slip and fall. Now both of you were on the ground. “Very fucking funny,”

The next hour is pure chaos as the two of you use your powers to bully one another. Your flames burn him like an ashtray when he gets too close, and he retaliates by making you slip on his patches of ice whenever he can. At some point, an unspoken agreement to end the spar is called and you both lean your hands on your knees, chests heaving up and down as you catch your breath. 

“I misunderstood you.” Sunghoon says between breaths.

There’s not enough oxygen going to your head for you to understand his words, so you shoot him an exasperated but questioning look. 

“I drove away our last trainer, made him quit after I froze his arm to the wall.” He starts, straightening up. “He hated me, but I hated him too. I’d push him around till he was bruised and battered and eventually he gave up on me and stopped training me.”

‘Doesn’t seem like a very good trainer.” 

Sunghoon laughs at that, nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah, none of us really liked him, but he’s old news now. But I figured you’d be the same.” He drops his head as if embarrassed to look at you as if weighed down by his regret. “But you’re different. It’s nice to see someone actually try and work with us and not for the paycheck.” 

You drop your focus down to the ground and remain silent, processing his words with such concentration you’d think he was implying something shady; but Sunghoon didn’t seem like the type to beat around the bush, though. When you finally look back up at him, you can see he’s brought his gaze back to yours and the haze in his eyes has started disappearing. “Why do you do that?” He looks at you with furrowed brows.  “-push people?” You clarify. 

“It’s just safer that way.” He says with a dismissive tone.

Safer. It echoes in your mind like a bouncy ball, each bounce plaguing you with another thought. There was nothing safe about being supernatural. But you realize that Sunghoon wasn’t speaking to you in metaphors. For Sunghoon, safety meant isolating himself from everyone around him like ice that refuses to thaw. His method of keeping himself safe doesn’t surprise you, it’s hard not to feel so corrupted in a world where being special meant you were illegal. You can’t seem to shake the thought that maybe, you were chipping away at his frost. 

Before you can decrypt Sunghoon’s remarks anymore, the door swings open and a confident looking Heeseung strides in. His presence demands your gaze and Sunghoon looks the boy up and down like he interrupted something, a silent reprimand flickering in his eyes. Heeseung flicks his hand in the air and Sunghoon leaves, briefly acknowledging the older before exiting the room. When he’s gone, Heeseung stalks into your space and picks apart your composure with his proximity. “Finally alone again.” he murmurs into your ear, voice dripping with contentment. With his face just inches from yours, vivid images of your steamy encounter with him flash across your mind and you push him away before his stare can undo you completely. 

“Just get in position,” you say, pointing to a spot just a few feet away from you. Heeseung lets out a low chuckle but obliges anyway, slowly moving to where you pointed to. He unnecessarily adjusts the wraps on his hand, spending an annoying amount of time readjusting them before throwing his arms up into a dramatic stretch. “Let’s go, princess. I don’t have all day.”

“Patience,” he retorts, finally bringing his hands into a ready position and planting  his feet firmly into the mat. He locks his eyes on you and you feel the adrenaline and amusement running through his irises on you. 

Upon uttering the word, “go”, you launch yourself at him. You tangle your body in his while cracking a flurry of punches at him at a supernatural speed. It’s a blur of movements that would have any onlooker getting dizzy from watching. Despite the mirage of fists you deliver to Heeseung, he manages to dodge each one. He moves around each punch with impeccable footwork, your enhanced speed just being short of matching his vampiric speed. “Come on, I thought you were better than this.” he says with a smirk. 

His fist suddenly connects with the side of your jaw and a ringing pain explodes through your head. Blood fills your mouth and you taste the metallic liquid on your tongue, but you ignore it, channeling the pain into driving a kick into his stomach. He doubles over in pain, letting out a hiss through his gritted fangs. “It’s not my fault you move at the speed of light,” you say, catching your breath. 

After a brief second is spent reeling from the pain of your kick, he recovers, though he walks with a limp in his gait. Too busy looking at his posture, Heeseung lunges at you with an uppercut to your face, but it doesn’t land. You vanish from his sight in a burst of flames and reappear behind him. Your foot slams into the back of his thigh and he stumbles forward. He retaliates by painting your vision red, blurring your sight. “Really? You’re going to blind me?” 

“It’s only fair,” he snickers, letting his hands dance in the air so the red tendrils wrap around your face more. 

Frustrated, you unleash a ring of fire around you which forces him out of your space with a startled yelp. The sparring lasts only a few minutes longer, ending when Heeseung taps out after your flames graze the top of his head. 

“Sunghoon’s right,” he says, catching a breather in the corner of the room. “You’re different. You’re not afraid.”

“Why would I be afraid?” You study his face from across the room, noting his usual confidence being replaced with something solemn. 

“Did you know I killed my parents?” 

His admission steals the next breath out of you. A gasp spills from your lips and you’re not sure if Heeseung hears it- though the subtle tensing of his shoulders tells you he expected nothing less. “I wasn’t abandoned, I killed them.” 

Heeseung only looks down as he continues, voice dripping with guilt. “They were business owners, successful ones at that. They used me like a machine, sending me out to kill those that got in their way. I thought, what could they possibly need a vampire for, when I was adopted. But it turns out their blood is colder than mine.” 

He turns to you then, searching your eyes for something you don’t understand- forgiveness, sympathy, you’re not sure. 

The uncertainty in his eyes makes your chest swell with pain and you wrack your brain for a way to respond, but his words only echo your own painful past. You offer him a grim smile, a double-edged sword wielded before you. “That’s a cruel way to use someone,” you say as memories of your past flood back to you. “No one deserves to be used like that- or used at all.” 

Heeseung’s eyes flicker with the smallest amount of light and it makes you feel like you said the right thing. “Does being a murderer make you see me differently?” 

“No, Heeseung. The world we live in is cruel, and you did what you had to do to survive. Your past was clearly dictated by your parents and it will never define you. I don’t think you’re a bad person.” 

He scoffs, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You don’t know me, then.” He says, dropping his gaze to the ground again. 

His words dampen your optimism, but you tell yourself that you aren’t here to remind him of his past, but to help him work through it. Your past, which had once been full of people that used you for their own gain, makes your expression tense.. You want to be the person you needed all those years, and Heeseung is just going to have to accept that.“I don’t,” you say, “But I want to.” 

Heeseung chews on the inside of his cheek as he registers your words. The tension in his shoulders and the repeated clenching of his jaws make you think you stepped too far, unlocked a part of his life he wasn’t granting you access to. When he looks up, you see his tear-streaked eyes and a smile forming on his lips and that’s all you need to know. 

You think back to the other night, when he had taken you so roughly and then left you there to clean up the mess. That wasn’t Heeseung. Not the one you’re looking at now. “Heeseung,” you say as you approach him, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. “What happened that day? Why’d you leave?”

“Rage. That wasn’t me you saw that night, I was high off of my match with K and the rage blinded my judgement. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.” 

“I understand,” you say quietly, “but it did hurt, being used like that only to be left alone right after.” 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t myself when that happened.” When your eyes meet his, you see a translucent shine glossing over his eyes. “I never thought I’d be feeling like this, let alone so soon, but I like you, Y/n. You caught my attention on the first day and have kept it ever since. I feel like I could trust you with anything.” 

Your heart swells with an unfamiliar warmth and you feel your eyes begin to mist over. His confession renders you speechless, so you offer him a sympathetic smile instead. Your expression only invites him to step into your space and he leans down to smell your neck. “You were with Jake, weren’t you?” 

“I-it wasn’t like that. I don’t think Jake even knew what-”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 

Your cheeks burn and you stumble backwards, but he catches you and wraps an arm around your waist. With his arm wrapped around you and breath fanning your cheek, you look everywhere but him. “Tell me, did he fuck you good?” 

You clench your thighs together, attempting to quell the heat building between them and swallowing in a moan. Arousal and desire coil in the pit of your stomach and you find yourself intoxicated by his presence. His eyes are locked on yours like they were that night, but it’s different. You don’t feel that same invisible tether that pulled you into his embrace and forced you to submit to him, but the lust and craving for him is all the same. His lips curve into a knowing smile, like he’s just won a game you didn’t realize you were playing. “Are you getting wet from thinking about his cock? I bet you could take us both so well.” 

Images of Jake leaning over you and filling you with his essence cross your vision and for a second it’s all you can see.  His every feature, every beauty mark, etches itself into your memories like an intrusion. Heeseung’s taunts are a catalyst to the wet feeling in your panties and you squirm. 

“Heeseung-”

The doors to the training room burst open and Jake walks in. When his eyes land on the way Heeseung’s arm is wrapped around you, his gaze turns dark and he rushes to your side to pull him away. “Who said you could fucking touch her?” he growls, pulling you behind him. 

“Don’t you smell it?” 

“Smell what-” He points his eyes at you and then lowers his gaze down to your legs which are pressed against each other like there’s no tomorrow. “Fuck, you’re dripping, Y/n.” 

“Sharing is caring, Jake. You can’t have her all.” 

Despite the wet patch growing in the seat of your panties, you push Jake out of the way and clear your throat. It takes every thread of yours to ignore the pulses of your cunt and to get them back on track. “I’m still here, by the way.” You say, rolling your eyes when Heeseung laughs. “It’s time for you to leave, I need to spar with Jake now.” 

Heeseung takes his leave, but before he exits, he turns back with a parting message. “It’s only a matter of time before the others claim her too.” 

When the door shuts, Jake pulls you into him and you feel the growing hardness of his dick against your body. You let out an accidental whine into his chest and he chuckles lowly, pressing a hand to the back of your head to keep you tucked in his embrace. “Fuck, what’re you gonna do when Jay and Sunghoon get a hold of you, hm, pretty girl?” 

He nips at the shell of your ear before separating from you. 

Sparring with Jake follows a similar pace as the others- calculated  movements and swift jabs. There isn’t much dialogue exchanged between you as you trade punches at one another, but it’s fine because you’re too focused on suppressing the blossoming heat coiling in your stomach. You’re grateful for the silence. But frankly, you’re so caught up in digging your arousal's grave that you don’t have time to react to his foot pressing against your temples, pushing you against the mat. Before you know it, you’re tapping the mat furiously as the pressure on your head increases. 

When Jay strides into the room to replace Jake, you’re barely functional enough to put up much of a fight. His flames burn you far too often and the scales of his skin seem to mock your every effort to break his defenses down. Between an echo of insults that seem a bit too personal and a bunch of roundhouse kicks,  you let him take the win easily after just a few minutes of fighting, already feeling the purple bloom across your body.

Before you know it, you’re on your way home again, slowly recognizing the walk back more and more. 

Strangely, the weight on your shoulders is lighter. With the admission of Sunghoon indirectly telling you he accepts you and Heeseung revealing his past to you, you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. And that encounter with Jake, although odd and confusing, left you with a rather large smile on your face. Maybe Jay still held his doubts against you, taking jabs at your ego whenever he could, but it was better than ignoring you. You were finally gaining their trust, and it felt good. 

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The overhead lights hanging above the Enha Arena are dimmed enough so that only the spotlight shines down on Heeseung and EJ, two vampires circling one another in the center. This is your first official match you get to see, and you and Heeseung had been working closely to prepare for it. Tonight, it’s Sunghoon and Heeseung that are participating while the rest of the matches involve gym members you don’t train with. 

You stand off to the side in one of the corners with the rest of the boys while EJ’s team occupies the other corner. K is the only one not standing amongst your group, lost somewhere in the sea of bleachers and talking to a few men in the crowd. In front of the ring where there are no bleachers, a table is set to seat Yuqi and two other gym trainers you hadn’t had the chance to meet while a  microphone sits at the center of the table, waiting to announce the winners of this match. At this point of the match, you’ve tuned out the ruckus of cheers erupting from the crowded bleachers and look on, focusing on Heeseung. 

The spotlight reflects the sheen of sweat beading on Heeseung’s forehead, casting a dramatic shadow behind him. His concentration pierces into EJ’s gaze and the boys catch their breath in this brief period of remission. Their auras match one anothers, a red glow wrapping around their bodies which only adds to the tension in the air. 

You have little knowledge regarding EJ’s techniques and powers. Though he’s a vampire, like Heeseung, the latter had mentioned to you that each vampire has a unique ability. While Heeseung can manipulate shadows, you remain clueless as to what EJ’s is. 

EJ is the first to break the period of rest, barrelling his entire body in Heeseung. It’s sudden and catches Heeseung off guard, sending the both of them tumbling down to the mat. EJ quickly moves to straddle the back of Heeseung’s body and wraps his arm around his neck. Spit leaves Heeseung’s mouth as his airway gets cut off, but he compensates. A stretch of red escapes Heeseung’s body and coils around EJ, ripping him off of Heeseung and he catches his breath. 

When Heeseung gets back to his feet, he stumbles about for long enough that EJ is able to punch him square in the face. 

“What the hell was that?” you exclaim, blindly clutching onto Sunghoon’s forearm. 

Sunghoon layers a hand over yours, “EJ is pooling Heeseung’s blood down to his feet. It’s making him dizzy.” 

“They can do that?” 

“No, just EJ. If Heeseung wasn’t a vampire, the effects would last a lot longer and be a lot stronger since vampires don’t have much blood.” 

Your heart clenches as you continue to watch Heeseung tightly shut his eyes before opening them, seemingly gaining his balance back after EJ’s fist strikes his face. They resume and Heeseung charges at the boy with lightning speed. The two boys engage in a messy fist fight, a number of punches being thrown before each other so fast you can hardly keep up. Combos of all punches are thrown at the other but equally dodged in the same fashion. They’re moving too fast for you to see who’s really winning, but when they step away from each other to catch their breath, you can easily tell they’re both equally battered. 

Heeseung’s face is dripping with blood, cuts gracing his face while  his eyebrow is split open,  and his nose is visibly broken. EJ is no better, his eyes swollen shut as they swell with blood and his body is covered in an abundance of bruises. 

You feel Jay move against you and he raises his arms, shouting at Heeseung, “Finish him!” 

Heeseung channels Jay’s words into his next punch, red tendrils coiling around his arm as he lands a powerful left jab on the side of EJ’s head. The shadows wrap around EJ’s face and torment him in a suffocating vortex before moving down to his neck. With EJ captivated by the shadows of Heeseung’s aura, he doesn’t hesitate to launch another set of blows to his body until EJ collapses to the ground, his face flush with the bloody mat. Heeseung gives him one last kick to the ribs for good measure and EJ reaches a hand out to weakly tap against the mat. The match is over. 

Yuqi stands up and grabs the microphone, proudly announcing Heeseung as the winner. As the crowd erupts into a chaos of cheers, you slip into the ring and grab Heeseung to take him into his corner. You cradle his face, flinching when his blood leaks onto your hand. He looks up at you with a lopsided smile, “Did you see that, baby?” He takes you by the hand and plants a messy kiss on your lips, leaving you gaping like a fish when he parts. 

You shake your head and laugh to yourself, “I did, Hee. You did so well.” 

Minnie tosses you a rag and you use it to dab at his cuts. When the rag becomes too bloody to make a difference, you set it down and run your finger down his nose. A rush of embers leave your hand and settle into the cartilage of his nose, restoring it back to its original shape. His eyes are locked on you as he watches you with awe, “Go get some rest,” you say, patting his back.

Before leaving, he gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek then disappears. Minnie gives you a teasing smile and raises her eyebrows, “Shut up,” you say before she can say anything. 

Sunghoon eventually slides into the ring as Minnie moves to clean the mats, arms working hard at drying the pools of red decorating the arena. “Will I get a kiss too if I win?” he asks with a smirk, his eyes teasing as you glance away. 

You ignore his blatant flirting and place a hand on his shoulder. Squeezing, you push him into the center of the ring, “Stay focused, Sunghoon.” The woman standing across from him is named Shuhua, dressed in armor that looks far too form-fitting to be of any use. It’s design appears to be more ornamental than protective- but what did you know? You've never met a valkyrie before.

“This is gonna be more of a sword fight than a boxing match,” Jake says into your ear when you slide out of the ring.

“What do you mean?” 

“Valkyries are like mythical warriors. I read online that they’re bred to sword fight where they’re from.” 

The match begins before you have time to process Jake’s informative words, your focus locking onto Shuhua as they start moving. She moves with fleeting ease and you can see now that her armor, adorned in fancy embellishments, no longer appears as a burden. It’s no longer impractical, but rather an extension of her exuding elegance and predatory gaze. With every shift in her posture, confidence dances around her.

Sunghoon stands before her, completely unfazed to her lioness gaze. He’s cautious, aware of the limitations her armor keeps him at and calculates his first move. The crowd has become background to you now, quiet like it’s holding its breath as the silence stretches between the two. 

Suddenly, Shuhua’s hand moves in the air and a steel sword materializes in her hand, adorned with white and blue gems that glisten under the spotlight. In one graceful motion, she lunges at Sunghoon and swings the sword through the air and at Sunghoon. 

He responds to her movement immediately, summoning an ice shield that quickly intercepts the force of her sword. The impact has his shield shattering in an instant and Sunghoon quickly wields his own ice blade to match her approach. He twirls the blade in his hands with practiced precision and advances. 

The chilling blade cuts through the air as he swings it at Shuhua, but she’s faster, jumping away from the weapon. Before Sunghoon can strike again, Shuhua sends a swift kick to his back which has Sunghoon stumbling forward. It’s a move not meant to hurt him but to strike him off balance. 

With his free hand, Sunghoon curls his hand into a fist and freezes Shuhua’s sword. He throws his hand in the air and the sword in question shatters into glittering shards, rendering it unusable. A low hiss escapes from Shuhua’s lips, her annoyance evident in the way her gaze darkens. With one quick motion, a dagger appears in her hand, though it’s significantly smaller than the sword she once held. 

Without blinking, she throws it with deadly accuracy at Sunghoon, but he’s quick to bend backwards in a graceful arc. He narrowly evades the bulk of the blade, the tip skinning his nose and eyebrow which leaves a trail of blood in its wake. The dagger flies back to Shuhua’s open hand like a boomerang and she flips it in the air to change her grip. 

Shuhua has no time to throw her dagger again as Sunghoon is already making his next move, his blade  wielded in the air as he prepares to strike. With concerning ease, he sheaths the blade into her side, one of the few areas that aren’t protected by her armor. A sharp gasp leaves Shuhua and she looks down to see red stain her uniform. Clutching the sword as though it’s the last thing keeping her tethered, she falls to her knees and then onto her back, chest heaving for air. 

Though you can’t see when it happens, the unnatural stiffening of her body and the frost clinging to her armor is enough for you to understand that Sunghoon has dropped her core temperature dangerously low. It’s not meant to give him the upperhand, moreso to assert dominance over Shuhua’s once cocky gaze. “Giving up?” he sneers, standing over her with his blade still lodged deep into her side. 

Shuhua lets out an affirmative grunt, a mixture of pain and resignation. The match is over. 

Sunghoon pulls the blade out and you wince as the sickening sound of his sword slides out of her side. Blood gushes out of her wound but it quickly stops when Sunghoon freezes over the gaping hole with his hand. “Get that stitched, I can only do so much.” He says, holding a hand out for her to grab. 

Though her pride is shaken and her wound has rendered her nearly immobile, she takes Sunghoon’s hand. When she’s back on her feet, you realize then that the crowd has reached an intolerable volume of cheering. Their cheers bounce off the walls of the gym and ring in your head, a feral energy that doesn’t seem to care for the fact that they nearly watched someone bleed out before their eyes. You look over to where K stands on the bleachers, flanked by two men who you assume to be his friends. What doesn’t concern you isn’t the fact that K isn’t standing by his team- you could care less where he is. What concerns you is the sickening fascination on his friends’ faces,  like this was just some passing entertainment to make the day go by. The rest of the crowd has similar expressions, though they seem to be more intrigued by the next round of fighters that are sliding into the ring. 

“It’s not personal,” Jay’s voice detaches you from your thoughts and you turn around. “All matches are like this. Nobody cares about the people, they’re here for the blood shed.” 

“I just don’t get it- what is so fascinating about watching people beat each other up?”

“I don’t think it’s fascination that the crowd feeds on, it’s more of an outlet for them. I’d say just enjoy the rest of the matches, Y/n.” 

“Shit,” It’s Niki, suddenly appearing by your side with Jake standing behind him. “I had $500 riding on Shuhua winning.” He turns to hand over a wad of cash to Jake, a grim expression gracing his features. 

As per Jay’s request, you watch the rest of the matches, though you can’t seem to match the enthusiastic energy that the crowd just feet away from you harbors. 

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It’s been three months since you first stepped into Dusk and Dawn, but it feels like it’s been years. In that short amount of time, you’ve revealed shocking stories about the four boys you train- secrets they’ve buried far beneath the surface. There’s been a dramatic shift in the way the boys present themselves to you, their once guarded exterior now being replaced with a vulnerable act of affection. You’re their confidante, their friend- and possibly even more for some. 

Even K, who had rubbed you the wrong way that one night, has become a constant presence in the gym. What was once the original 7 boys has become a group of 8. Though, K has taken a particular liking towards you for some reason. He’s been spending a lot of time with you, particularly bonding over the shared understanding that there weren't many like you; not many phoenixes and necromancers crawling the streets. The two of you confided in one another about being unique, a struggle that you didn’t think the others would understand as well as K did. 

Jungwon, however, has pulled away. It was noticeable enough for Minnie to express her worries with you and Yuqi, concerned about his fiery energy having been  extinguished after that night of the government inspection. Ever since that day, Jungwon has acted strangely. He’s grown distrusting of those around him, but you can’t really blame him. Growing up in a world without the safety of those bound by blood to look out for you, it’s hard to imagine living without any trust issues. 

Still, these three months have introduced you to a pleasure you never thought you’d be privy enough to enjoy- a family. Not the kind bound by blood, but one forged on a mountain of shared intimacies and unspoken trust. Never once did you expect to exchange hours of banter with Jay, or to sit with Jake and listen to him unravel the history of his lineage. You didn’t think you would ever learn about Heeseung’s past and the true reason behind his vampiric rage. Even Sunghoon- his once frosted over eyes had begun to thaw, melting day by day. 

Heeseung opened up to you about the monsters he faces in his dreams, the guilt he carries from all the lives he took in exchange for his family’s love- it was a stepping stone into his life and you vowed to carry his monsters to your grave. With his candid reveal, you curated a bond that you believed to be unbreakable. Since then, he’s often looked at you with a soft gaze that left you feeling weightless. 

And Jay remains as competitive as ever, but his intentions are no longer fueled by malice and a need to prove you wrong. There’s no longer venom laced in his comments when he speaks to you, instead it was encouragement. It felt unnatural at first, like you were speaking to a man with a practiced script, but over time you grew to get used to it. His challenges became something for you to look forward to, a reason to improve.

Even Jake seemed to have turned a new leaf. The werewolf who was once guarded was now showing you a side that you could no longer classify as foreign or rare. He confided in you about his past after a particularly tough match, explaining to you how his family’s passing had affected him. You grew to understand why he was so guarded, so anxious about showing his true emotions. His outbursts were a way of protecting himself from feeling vulnerable again. Since that night, he and Heeseung began to tag team you. Jake made it a habit to inhale your scent whenever he could, his werewolf like instincts controlling him. And on more than one occasion, the intimate moments Jake pushed upon you were often interrupted and joined by Heeseung. 

Sunghoon had also begun to thaw, less frequently trying to ward you off with his ice and instead inviting your warmth as if it’d speed up the thawing of his heart. The storm in his eyes were clearing, and for the first time since you had met him, you were starting to see the irises of his eyes without the haze of grief that seemed to hover in front of them indefinitely. He still hadn’t opened up to you about why that was, and you weren’t sure he ever would, but that's ok. It was enough for you that he was beginning to encourage your presence rather than push you away. 

Finally, your life was looking up. You were building what Yuqi called a family- not one that was defined by blood, but one that was fostered upon by shared memories and heartfelt actions. For once, you feel fulfilled. There were people in your life now that relied on you, and people in your life that you relied on. Those late-night conversations you had with the walls of your empty apartment were now a distant memory, replaced by a real camaraderie and a feeling of belonging. 

Smiles became your usual expression whenever you were in the gym. The boys were no longer testing your authority and engaged in less fights with each other. For the first time, you were looking forward to your shifts. 

Even your living situation has improved. You were no longer carrying around the burdening weight of finding a new place now. Jay had taken it upon himself to help you look at apartments, often joining you in your self-guided tours to help point out the pros and cons of each place. Though your apartment wasn’t what you would call a dream come true, it was a massive step up from the one The Veil had funded for you. Instead of shorting fuses and waiting for the sun to light up your home, you finally had working outlets and bulbs that were strong enough to be sufficient at night. 

So when you finally decided on that apartment, the boys, as well as the maknaes and K,  had invited themselves over to help you move your boxes- though there weren’t many to begin with. The collection of their supernatural abilities made for a quick 2-hour affair of moving things, one that would’ve taken at least a day by yourself. 

In the end, you encouraged them to stay for a bit and open some wine. For once they weren’t dressed up in gym apparel or running off the high of punching things- they were relaxed. And since then, it has become a tradition to come together on the weekend to share drinks and stories, further strengthening your bond with them. 

Right now, you’re finishing up yet another shift. It’s like any other night at the gym, except this time you stay for a little longer to help Yuqi set up for tomorrow’s matches while the rest of the boys have packed up and left. It’s not a very long or laborious task, just a few tables needing to be moved and some electricals that need to be set up. 

When you finish, Yuqi is quick to run off, stating she’s got some work to finish at home. In her absence, you pack up your belongings and walk to the locker room for a quick shower, craving the feeling of a warm, hot shower. 

As you pass by the men’s locker room, a voice catches your attention and you find your steps slowing down. You weren’t aware anyone else was still here, though it was a 24-hour gym, so maybe you just weren’t used to others being here after your shift. 

“-you want her blood now?” Your steps falter completely. Was that K? Curiosity piques your senses and before you can think about the consequences of eavesdropping, you slip against the tiled wall that wraps around the entrance to the men’s locker room. 

“No, I haven’t even gotten any money yet!” The voice is low and clipped, but it’s loud enough for you to hear in the silence of the gym. “Haven’t you guys collected enough info? You’ve been to their matches.”

Confusion knicks you heart and you hold your breath. “How the hell am I supposed to collect her blood? That’s the enforcement division's job, I don’t need them suspecting me any more than they already do. That Jungwon kid gives me a dirty look every chance he gets. I thought getting rid of you guys at that inspection was enough, but I think he just became more wary.” 

A cold dread spreads through your body as you begin to connect the dots. The venom in his words rubs against you the wrong way, lingering like a thick fog in your mind. Was he working with the government? It doesn’t make sense though, how would he have gotten in contact with them? Was Jungwon suspecting K of undermining the team? Your thoughts are spiraling now, each question only leading to another. 

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the way his voice dissipates and steps begin to echo down the hall. When a pair of white sneakers appear in your vision, you look up. “Oh, Y/n!” K says, leaning down to catch your gaze. 

His sudden appearance quickens your pulse and you realize the weight of your situation, how you look in front of him. “K, I didn’t know you were still here!” You say with a lighthearted turn, hoping that was believable enough. 

K steps closer to you until you can feel his breath fanning against your cheek. “Cut the shit.”

He’s got you pressed up against the wall, panic rising in your throat. “W-what?” you stutter, turning your gaze away from his predatory stare. “I was just heading to the women’s locker room to change!”

He narrows his eyes at you, the intensity of his stare making your skin crawl. You so desperately want to just run away, forget you even heard anything, but K is relentless. “Right,” his voice drops down to a murmur, “Well, don’t be running your mouth or anything. I’d hate to see what happens.” 

With a purposeful nudge to your shoulder, he brushes past your frozen figure and disappears. You’re left standing there with a tight chest, struggling to catch a breath. K’s words were like a threat wrapped up in the safety of a promise, a guarantee that shit would go down if you were to talk about what just transpired.  It leaves you mind in a tangled mess of thoughts, confusion and fear acting as a catalyst to your rapidly beating heart. 

You force yourself to think back to when K had first joined. A shiver runs through you as you recall the way his walk radiated with confidence, how his footsteps seemed to echo with regard to the high esteem he holds himself at. He had walked in as though he owned the place, immediately demanding for a spar as if to prove a point. 

It unnerves you how easily he had integrated himself into the team, how he just happened to be exactly what everyone needed- a friend. Now, in hindsight, you realize that it was all a lie. Everything you had ever grown to realize about K now felt like it was tainted with poison. Every one of his actions dripped with an ulterior motive that you mistook for friendliness. 

You think about the government inspection, how easily he carried himself when he spoke to that official, as though he wasn’t scared of him. He was too smooth, too comfortable. And what had he shown him?

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

The next few days seem to blur together, a dizzying haze of your own internal storm of thoughts. You make an effort to avoid K, way too aware of his domineering presence in the gym, around your friends. His casualness around the others feels so fake now, had you missed it? 

His threat hangs in the back of your head and you try to throw yourself into your work, making workout plans and writing in the journal Yuqi had given you- but it’s pointless. Your stomach stirs with unease and you can’t find it within you to focus on anything other than K’s likely betrayal. 

Before you know it, you’ve practically lost your appetite. The mere thought of putting something in your body makes you nauseous, as though you're already  full from keeping K’s secrets. 

You watch Yuqi from across the gym talk to the maknaes, helping Minnie out in a small discussion they seem to be having. On the other side, K is with your team, exchanging jokes with one another like any other day. Something bubbles in your gut, urging you to tell someone. You need to. 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re tapping on Yuqi’s shoulders. “Hey, can I talk to for a second?” 

She turns to you with her lips pressed into a thin line, seeming to be on edge. “Sure, but make it quick.” 

Her tone has you hesitating to talk to her, second-guessing whether you should really confide with her, The nauseating feeling burning in your stomach has you opening your mouth anyways. 

“The other day, I overheard K on the phone. He mentioned something about the enforcement division and the need to collect someone’s blood.” The words come out of you like a question, like you’re unsure of what you heard, but you press on, insistent on getting everything out before you regret it. You look to Yuqi to see if she’s following along but she’s staring off at a wall or something, a stern expression etched into her face. “He mentioned how he felt worried about looking suspicious and said that the division should take care of it, not him. I have reason to believe that maybe we shouldn’t trust K…”

You search Yuqi’s face for anything, expecting her to share a similar concern as you but it’s unreadable. It isn’t until you clear your throat that Yuqi turns to look at you.

“K said you’d say that. But I didn’t think it was true.”

You blink, unsure if you heard her right. “I’m sorry?” 

“I didn’t want to believe him, trust me. But you’ve come to me with an accusation that K is working for the government after he quite literally saved us. Now, I’m sure of who I believe now.” 

Your chest tightens in regard to her words, and you silently curse K. “No, you’ve got it wrong. I-”

“I’m gonna have to let you go, Y/n. Effective immediately. There will be consequences if we see you at this gym again.” 

You must not have noticed the way a crowd has formed behind Yuqi as she speaks to you, your eyes finally landing on the 8 boys and Minnie. Heeseung is the first one you make eye contact with but he’s quick to look away, Niki and Sunoo doing the same. It rips your heart in half seeing them turn a blind eye to your demise. You look at Sunghoon, but he only glares at you with a store cold enough to freeze the blood running through your veins. The other boys hold themselves in a similar regard, Jake’s fist clenched at his side and Jay’s jaw is so tense you’re scared it might break. Jungwon doesn’t even look at you, eyes seemingly glued to the floor. 

Minnie stands off to the side and you look at her with hopeful eyes, maybe she’d believe you. You’re wrong. If it’s not for the way she stands with her arms across her chest, it’s definitely the scowl on her face and tears staining her cheeks that gives it away. 

Niki steps forward, “You should leave.” His voice is hard and flat and it’s got your eyes misting with tears. 

Your heart lurches and you feel physically ill at hearing Niki- your sweet, trouble making Niki speak to you like this. 

Sunghoon doesn’t do much to help, only adding to injury, “I really thought you were different. Just get out of our faces, I don’t want to see you ever again.” 

You feel physically rooted to the spot, as if a weight has tied you down. Yuqi takes the extra step to glare at you once more before turning around to leave, saving you from the embarrassment of tripping over your own words. Minnie and the boys follow after her, leaving you trapped in your own storm. When they’re gone, you feel something wet drip down your face. 

You bring a hand up to your cheek and pull it away only to see the translucent shine of a tear on your finger. No. Phoenix’s don’t cry. They can’t. 

But your chest burns with a pain you’ve never felt. A searing, torrential pain. Not even when your parents kicked you out. 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

It’s on a rare occasion that you step outside of your apartment and even rarer for you to pull out an unlit joint. But you need it. You yearn for the toxic chemicals to drive away the pain you’ve surrounded yourself in. You need it to psyche you out more than the overthinking already has.

It’s only been a week since you were let go, but it feels like it’s been a lifetime. The world has kept turning and the days get shorter. You feel like everyone else has moved on with the world except you. The winter wind bites at your cheeks though you don’t feel a thing, you wish you did. You’ve become numb to the cold, and you wish that numbness translated over to pain as well. 

You grab a joint out of your hoodie pocket, laughing in awareness of the thin fabric doing little to protect you from the cold. It doesn’t matter though, you don’t plan on staying out for long. Just a hoodie and some leggings should be enough to keep your body protected, just enough for you to take a few drags. You don’t plan on finishing the joint anyways. 

Stepping out into the dark, you travel to the back alley of your new apartment complex, a place not frequented by other people. Your only source of light is the distant flickering of the street lamps on the main street that barely reach back here and the flame dancing at the tip of your finger. You bring your hand to the end of the joint and let out a breathy laugh when the ember catches on the stick. 

On your first inhale, you cough more than you’d like to admit, but in your defense, it’s been years since you last smoked. Your body isn’t used to the tar dragging down your lungs, but you aren’t used to this version of yourself either. 

Whether it’s the heat of the smoke burning your chest or the burdening memory of losing everything you once had, there’s a scorching tightness that won’t leave you no matter what you do. It makes it hard to breathe. You beat a fist to your chest like that’ll do anything. It doesn’t work. Obviously. 

You take another drag and do your best not to cough out the smoke, letting it reach your lungs before exhaling slowly. You try your best to focus on the feeling of the chemicals swirling around your lungs, but it doesn’t work. Your mind is burning with memories of Yuqi’s cold stare, Sunghoon’s harsh words, and just the overall look of betrayal on the group. How could they have believed K over you, the man that nearly killed Heeseung on his first day? 

Despite your attempts, your mind flurries into a snowball of questions: how long had Yuqi known, what exactly did K tell her, was it all fake? Your chest tightens even more at the mere thought that everything was a lie, even your friendship with the boys. How quick they were to throw everything away, the ache of it all spreads like a poison through your body. 

You take another hit from your joint, then a few more. One last hit. Ok, just one more. You inhale. Ok,  this one for sure is going to be the last one. At this point, you’ve become numb to the heat of the smoke curling through you and take one last drag, then you go back for another hit. 

Before you know it, you’ve reached the end of the joint. Your vision blurs slightly and the things around you become glossy. 

The smoke has your lungs feeling heavy and trapped, but your mind feels lighter now. Your thoughts feel distant now that you’ve buried them under a haze of cannabis. You let the pathetic stub of a joint fall to the ground and you step on it to extinguish its flames. The silence of the alley is both calming yet also suffocating. You miss the liveliness of the gym and the weights clanging every so often. Now, you can only focus on the burning paper of the joint.

The sound of steps has your body immediately tensing up despite the cannabis raging through you. You turn around, expecting to see a cat or something messing around in the alley, but instead you see the shadow of a figure. It’s blurry, enough for you to think it’s just a figment of your imagination thanks to the weed, but when the shadow speaks, you freeze. 

“Smoking, now?” you recognize that voice. 

“Should I be solving world peace instead?” You bite back the feeling of bile rising in your throat and focus in on the figure. You open your mouth to say more,  but the appearance of two other shadows joining has you running empty of any thoughts. 

The air suddenly feels ten times heavier as he continues to speak, “You’ve got some fucking nerve, you know.” The shadow in the middle steps forward and you can finally make out his face under the dim lighting from the street lamps. His figure seems to effortlessly glide towards you and you stare in awe as a halo of light wraps around his frame.   “I thought getting rid of you would help me out, but you’ve ruined everything.” 

“I- I didn’t do anything-” You start with a pathetic slur but K lunges forward and captures your neck in his large hand. He slams you into the brick wall of your building and you wince at the sound of your body connecting with the wall. The force of his impact steals what little air you have and you feel your chest constrict. The lack of air has you growing dizzy and you let your head lull to the side. “You’re pathetic.” he growls, driving his free hand into your stomach. 

“K-” you gasp, clawing desperately at his grip on your neck. The weight of the moment has you barely holding on to what’s left of your sobriety as you kick underneath him. 

“You’re nothing, just a pathetic little Phoenix all alone in the world.” He lets go of your neck suddenly and you stumble back onto your feet. Before you can manage to catch a breath, his heavy combat boots slam into your stomach. The brutal force sends you flying back against the wall and the sharp edge of the bricks cut into your back as you slide to the ground. 

He grabs a firstful of your hair and yanks it back into the wall. You hear nothing after that except for the ringing in your ears. You thrash under his hold but it only makes him angrier, “Stop fighting!” he shouts, tightening the grip on your hair. “No one’s here to save you, so stop fucking moving.” 

Driven by what feels like your last thread of reality, you bring a hand up to his and let a surge of flames out. The embers sear into K’s skin and he stumbles back from with a shout. “Fucking bitch!” he snarls, holding his burnt arm with his other hand. 

He does some strange movement with his hands, you can’t really tell through the gloss in your eyes.  From the shadows behind K, two figures step into the light. When your eyes land on them, you realize then that they’re not humans. Well, living at least. What a wonderful night. 

They both sport the same grey looking skin, one that clings to their skeleton like wet paper. Their hair is matter and grey and their eyes are sunken into their skull, devoid of any life. When they get even closer to you, the stench of decay invades your nostrils and you nearly throw up. 

K moves his hands once more and the figures spring into action, lunging at you. They stick their cold hands under your armpits and turn to hurl you across the alley. Pain explodes through your body once more as you hit the pavement, every fiber of your body screaming in agony. 

K moves in on you while the two figures behind him follow in suit. Before you can rise, K drives a foot into your side and you lurch forward at the sound of your ribs cracking. The figures go to stand behind you and lift you up to your knees, trapping your arms behind you. A sob rips from your body as you process your helplessness, mourning your freedom. K uses your captivity as an opportunity to deliver a brutal attack to your body. He uses his fists to begin, the first punch landing on your cheek and immediately filling your mouth with blood. The next blood is straight to the center of your face and you quickly feel a gush of warm blood pour from your nose. 

By now, you’re falling in and out of consciousness to his assault. K mutters something under his breath and you wake up to the feeling of your arm being twisted so far back you hear a snap. The pain is blinding and you scream out, your throat going raw from the exertion of your vocal cords. 

After some time, the figures behind you finally let go of you. With the lack of support coming from their hold, you crumble to the ground. You can barely register the feeling of K’s boot slamming into your side, and then into the back of your head. “There’s just one last thing,” he pulls something out from his coat pocket and you barely catch the glint of a blade in the corner of your eye. He crouches down to your level and smiles. In one quick motion, he plunges the knife into your stomach and drags the blade downward while twisting it. 

You can only manage a few garbled groans and whimpers, your vocal chords completely shot from your screams early.  Feeling satisfied, K pulls the knife out and basks in the sight of blood pouring out of your wound. With another mutter beneath his breath, the two figures disappear into thin air and he walks away. 

You feel nothing but raw, excruciating pain all over your body. You’re not sure if it’s tears or blood on your face, and you’re barely conscious enough to process the sound of footsteps approaching you again. Instinctively, you tense up your muscles with what little energy you have and close your eyes in fear. 

“Y/n!” You know that voice. “Stay awake for me!”

read part 3

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

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

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of Nikto's Commandments!

A little angst because... yeah. Comfort next, though! Whenever I get around to it...

Content: Injury, Violence, Shock

Being shot feels exactly how you expected it would.

You’ve cared for enough bullet wounds, listened to enough agonized soldiers, to imagine it in vivid detail. Asked Nikto once. He didn’t have the words to explain it, just shook his head and ushered you off to the next thing. Mumbled something about not wondering after what wouldn’t come to pass.

Getting dragged bleeding and delirious with pain now, you have the hysterical thought I told you so.

Speaking of Nikto, you don’t know where he is now. You separated on O’Conor’s orders – Nikto needed for stealth, and you needed as support for another squad member. He hadn’t been happy about it, eyes searing into yours. But you had nodded for him to follow orders and ducked away to get the mission over with.

If you live through this, he’s never going to listen to you again.

You’ve got two men dragging your half-dead weight down the hall, another leading the way in front. A smear of crimson follows after your legs like a demented snail. You kick and try to thrash, but it just sends white-hot pain throughout your abdomen and leaves your vision spotty. One of the enemies says something – hard to hear over the beating of your heart, the rush of blood, the thrush of your blood-soaked clothes along the floor. But you hear something about torture and feel your already-ruined stomach sink.

KorTac doesn’t save compromised assets.

You can hear Nikto’s voice in your ear but can’t reach your headset to answer; the men have both your arms. Fuck, fuck.

His face flashes through your panicky mind. Handsome and ruined and still so sensitive to cold air and humid weather. Eyes so startlingly bright but fathomless. It’s like trying to find the bottom of the sky. You love waking up to them.

He’s getting more frantic now, voice hard but brittle. Others chiming in as well, but you hear his above all.

You murmur his name, the one you’ve only hushed in the quiet of a dark car. Wish you could tell him one more time.

There’s a shift in your captors’ gaits. A stairwell. Your body jolts down the first stair and sends spikes of fire straight from your throat. It’s an awful scream, loud and cracking and only serves to make it hurt worse.

But there’s a sudden, deafening silence in the echo of your voice.

Then Nikto.

“Copy.”

The men stop, realizing that your screams are going to be an issue. The one in the lead wrenches your head back, trying to shove some sort of fabric in your mouth. But the knowledge the Nikto is coming, that you just have to hold out, sends the pain to the back of your mind. You twist and struggle, teeth sinking into flesh.

Your boot catches on the corner of the step and you push.

The soldiers lose their grip, and you tumble halfway down the stairs, head bouncing off cement. But your arms are free, and you manage to grab the pistol at your thigh. Fire wildly and hit one in the leg with a ricochet off the wall. All the while trying to scramble out of sight before they can reach for their own weapons.

You hit the landing with a bitten-off yelp. But you’re low on bullets and you’re not confident in your abilities with a knife right now.

And then a blur of black armor slams into one of the men, a knee in his throat, crushing his windpipe. Someone follows just behind – you recognize Konig by height alone. He throws another down the stairs, and the soldier doesn’t hesitate to take the head start he’s been given. Doesn’t even pause to try to use you for leverage, just begins limping away. The third man is quick to turn tail while his comrades are being assaulted.

“Run, bastard,” Nikto laughs, ragged and manic.

He turns as if to follow and your heart turns to ice. “Stop!”

It’s like you’ve physically yanked on his leash. He goes rigid, head whipping around to take in the state of you. You can almost measure the fury that floods him when he realizes how badly you are.

“Nikto, I need you here,” you say, as calm and even as you can. Same voice you use as in medical emergencies – well, technically, you suppose this is a medical emergency. “Leave it to Konig.”

He jerks as if you’ve offended him somehow. Like you’re unjustly punishing him. You struggle up onto one arm, gun forgotten in favor of applying what little pressure you can to your abdomen. Your throat feels tight with repressed fear, struggling to breathe through radiating pain.

“I know you’re angry, I do,” you strain, “but I need your help right now. Revenge can come later. I’m sure Konig can save one for you.”

Understanding seems to dawn through bloodlust. Nikto darts to your side between one ragged breath and the next. He kneels beside you, pupils shrunken to pinpricks.

“Go on, Konig,” you call, “I’ll be alright.”

He nods and disappears. You turn to Nikto and softly call his name; instantly have his attention.

“I need you to apply pressure,” you explain, “I can’t do it myself.”

He does, but you know he’s trying to spare you. Doesn’t want to hurt you. You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug.

“Harder, love,” you whisper, “or it’ll kill me.”

His mask shifts as he grits his teeth and puts his weight into it. You choke on a cry, swallow it down and try to blink through spots.

“G-good. Keep it like that.”

“You’re shaking.”

You hiss out through your teeth. “I might be going into shock.”

“That can kill you too.”

“I said ‘might’.”

“How do I fix?” he demands.

You swallow and lower your arms to your side. “Loosen my vest as much as you can. Radio someone else for help, they can get a blanket. Don’t let up on my side.”

You focus on regulating your breathing while he obeys, murmuring to himself in Russian. You occupy yourself with trying to translate – though it mostly sounds like curses. Still, it’s something for your brain to latch onto other than the severity of your injury. You wish you could risk speaking, but the adrenaline crash is already hitting, and you need to focus on staying conscious for as long as possible.

Soon O’Conor is there, the foil blanket flashing in the shitty stairwell lights. He also comes with a stim that stabilizes you enough for Nikto to scoop you up and get you to exfil. You lose the plot after that, swimming in and out of awareness through triage.

But through it all, you keep your hand around Nikto’s.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[deadhands69]

Flight Headcanons: My Hero Academia

My Hero Academia x Reader

Who's the best/worst to sit next to on a flight?

Sits Quietly, Doesn't Touch You

Jiro, Tokoyami, Todoroki.

Jiro and Tokoyami will sit quietly and listen to music for the whole flight. Shouto will sit quietly, staring straight forward but without any entertainment. At some point, you'll start to wonder if he fell asleep with his eyes open but he's perfectly responsive when needed and orders green tea from the flight attendant.

Sits Quietly ... Just Don't Touch Them

Bakugo.

It's all fine as long as he gets the window seat and you're not asking to step over him every twenty minutes. Otherwise, he's probably listening to music quietly or sleeping.

Quiet, but Fidgety

Tsuyu, Iida.

Probably won't talk your ear off (unless you want to talk) but might not like sitting still for too long.

Passes Out Before the Plane Takes Off

Aizawa, Shinso, Recovery Girl.

The perfect seat neighbors. I will absolutely die on this hill.

Conversational, but Doesn't Touch You

Kirishima, All Might, Mirio, Hawks, Present Mic.

Want a polite conversation with someone who (probably) won't invade your space the whole flight? You picked the right seat!

Okay, Present Mic might be a bit more than light conversation if he gets excited.

ALL UP IN YOUR SPACE

Mina, Hagakure, Hatsume, Kaminari.

The first three are exited. The'll giggle, lean over you, and possibly fall asleep on your shoulder if it's a really long flight.

This may or may not be cute depending on if you're into it.

Denki just boarded and already has his seat back, shoes off, and he's spilling over the arm rest. Oh, and he forgot his headphones. Can he borrow yours?

Again, maybe you're into it?

Best at Comforting You

Ochaco, Momo, Koda.

Ochaco is great to sit next to if you're afraid of flying, Momo is there for you if you forgot anything, and Koda might even let you hold his service animal!!!

Needs to be Comforted

Midoriya, Amajiki.

Deku is probably afraid of flights and made up for it by staying up all night reading about how airplanes work. In his nervousness, he's quietly rambling about all of his knowledge to be "reassuring." Really, he just needs you to say it'll be okay.

Suneater might be afraid of flying. Or you. Or both. Either way, he's staring at his lap and will not look up until the plane lands.

CONCERNING

Shigaraki, Dabi.

I would love to sit by Shigaraki or Dabi on a flight, but it's worth noting that your survival is entirely dependent on their ability to control their quirks/not touch a window or anything.

But let's be honest, neither of them would make it past airport security.

50/50

Aoyama, Mineta.

Aoyama is polite (even if he's a bit odd.) However, he seems like the type to eat something weird and smelly on a flight. Like a really stinky cheese or something.

Mineta is perfectly quiet, holds still, and takes up so little space. The catch? He paid for the wifi to watch hentai the entire flight. Have fun with that!

honestly, idk who i'd sit by. a lot of good options! who would you sit with?

masterlist

[yoitsjay]

hello hello, i saw your requests are open!!! (i got so excited)

might i request some tech x f!jedi reader where they start by just working on the marauder together. and like over time both of them get more comfortable with each other and start opening up to one another. then one night after a battle on her homeworld they finnaly realize they have mutual feels and kiss? thanks sooo much!!

i hope you have a great day/night!!!!!!!

Yes requests are always open! Feel free to request any time 😊

This is so cute, enjoy!

Don't Want You Hurt

Pairings: Tech x Fem jedi! Reader

Summary: you were on your homeworld fighting droids when you got swarmed by more separatists. You almost got hurt and Tech realizes he can't hide his feelings or concern for you any longer.

Warnings: cannon violence, fluffiness, reader gets hurt, kisses

Word count: 1,992

As a padawan you were faced with many hardships, you were only a child when you were thrown into the clone wars. Your master Aayla Secura taught you all she knew while also teaching you the harsh faces of battle and how to deal with the death that followed.

But you were an extremely gifted jedi and the council knew this. You had rare force abilities that not many jedi had anymore, life force healing as well as battle meditation. Aayla taught you how to harness those capabilities and amplify them without harming yourself.

You had passed your trials when you had turned 20 and often assisted Aayla’s battalion while you waited for your own. However that never happened, and instead you were told that you would be assigned to an experimental clone unit.

When you first joined them you felt very out of place, you tried bonding, amongst other things but it didn’t really get you that far, so you just focused on missions. You only ever really spoke to Hunter when it was about planning, since you were their commanding officer they did have to listen to you.

It had taken a while, but the way you fought so fiercely and protected many of them from harm, they started trusting you and actually holding conversations with them. Tech especially had asked you many questions once he got comfortable around you.

You were currently on Coruscant doing some repairs on the Marauder as well as getting it fueled up. You were out of your armor and instead wore a thin tight pair of workout shirts and a sports bra, sweat dripping down your back as you worked outside the Marauder.

You didn’t know why it was so hot outside, but you heard the news broadcasters mention something about heat flashes for a week so that could have been it. “Y/n i need your abilities to lift up the new hyperdrive.” Tech requested as he stepped out of the ship, you stood up, wiping the sweat of your brow as you nodded.

The hyperdrive had been damaged in a battle, you managed to get it repaired in order to jump but had to stop in Coruscant to get a new one.

You closed your eyes and with both hands you reached out, using the force to pull out the old and busted hyperdrive before replacing it with the new one. You could feel Tech’s eyes on you as your muscles flexed and you grunted before standing up straight stretching out your arms.

“Okay i’m gonna go take a break.” You told Tech, offering him a smile as you walked back onto the Marauder, graning as you slumped down onto the cold floor of the bunk room. Crosshair poked his head in, smirking as he saw you on the ground ass up.

“hot sweetheart? i bet i can help” he flirted, but you just groaned and flipped him off, pushing yourself upwards before getting off the ground. “I just don't get how all of you can still be in your armor while I'm dripping sweat down my back and thighs.” You huffed, walking out to the little fresher in the Marauder. Tech had walked inside, watching you slink into the fresher before shutting the door.

He looked over at Crosshair who was snickering to himself before he entered the cockpit.

By the time you were sweat free and dried off from your shower, Hunter and Wrecker were back with a new mission and fresh rations. So you got dressed.

You had long forgotten standard jedi robes in favor of hard plastoid armor which was even painted to match the bad batch’s armor. Granted you still had significantly less armor then Hunter or the others since you still needed that added mobility, but you had a chest plate, pauldrons, arm bracers and lower leg armor, leaving your lower abdomen to above your knees more vulnerable.

They had tried to get you to wear a full set but you just wouldn’t budge on it, always arguing back that if any armor hindered your movements you could put the team at risk, and you always had your lightsaber to deflect shots.

“We have a new mission, boys- and Y/n.” Hunter spoke up as he entered the Marauder, you rolled your eyes, but followed him into the cockpit. “We're being asked to travel to Onderon since they reported some separatist activity. So we’re gonna destroy it.” Hunter explained, however your eyes went wide.

“Onderon?” You repeated, Hunter nodded. “Yeah? Why what's up?” he asked. You sighed, sitting down in the cockpit as you rubbed the back of your neck. “It's just- that’s where I was born… I haven't been to Onderon since… since I was a baby.” You started, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine, it's just… kinda crazy.” You muttered.

Tech turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow before he spoke up. “Why is it crazy?” He asked, you turned to look at him before sighing and leaning back in your seat. “It’s nothing, seriously I'm fine.” You stated, not wanting to really talk about it anymore.

But you had a bad feeling growing in the pit of your stomach.

-

Turns out you were right about the bad feeling bit.

After some scouting you found the separatist base outside of Onderon’s city but it was empty. You decided to do some solo scouting and told the rest of them to stay back and watch your back in case anything had happened, but eventually you slipped out of view.

What they didn’t see was you getting knocked out by droids, your double bladed lightsaber was taken, and force blocking cuffs were put on your hands as you were taken prisoner inside the base.

Hunter knew something was wrong when thousands of droids emerged from the forest at once and walked into the facility, so he, Tech, Wrecker and crosshair scaled the wall of the base when the coast was clear and started searching for you.

“I can’t believe we captured a jedi!”

“General Grievous will be so excited!”

“Maybe I'll get promoted!”

The battle droids conversed, and Hunter raised his hand and pointed in a direction, Tech followed where he was pointing, eyes widening as he saw you, suspended in the air with your arms and legs bound.

“We have to get her.” Wrecker whispered, Tech nodded in agreement as he lowered the visor part of his helmet and surveyed the area as Hunter came up with a plan.

You on the other hand were starting to wake up, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as your eyes flew open.You pulled at your restraints, growling at every droid that passed by you. “Let me outta here you dung heaps! I swear to the maker when my men get me out of here I'll sever all your heads!” You shouted angrily.

This caught Tech’s attention, and he couldn’t help but smile as his brothers chuckled.

However before they could begin their plan, a lone fighter ship had entered the atmosphere and flew down into the base. Emerging from it was none other than grievous himself. You spat at his feet when he reached you, narrowing your eyes as he roughly grabbed your jaw.

“My my, what a fine specimen… you’ll be a wonderful addition to my collection.” he stated. Igniting one of the lightsabers he held.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, and he paused as he held the green blade to your neck. “If you're gonna kill me, why not make it fun? Let me down and give me my lightsaber and let me challenge you. If you win you kill me, if I win- well- I win.” You breathed out, turning your head away as you closed your eyes, fully prepared for him to just cut off your head.

“Yes… yes I will grant you this request.” Grievous said, before releasing your restraints. You dropped to the ground with a thud, and a droid waked over, tossing your saber to your feet. A circle of droids was made, and now you and Grievous stood in the middle.

He ignited all four of his lightsabers, but you had yet to ignite yours. You circled each other, but as you did you unclipped your chestplate and pauldrons, letting them fall to the ground.

Grievous then charged you, but you dodged his quick and angry blows, ducking, jumping and just overall avoiding his swings. You glanced up, catching the flash of a rifle. You grinned, knowing your men, your friends had these droids surrounded.

As Grievous swung his sabers at you you finally ignited your dual saber and blocked the attack, however he had only attacked with three sabers, using the fourth to stab you in the abdomen, You let out a choked sound of surprise, clenching your teeth as you closed your mind before calling on the force to push him away before you jumped back.

Pain burned through your abdomen, but you didn’t let one stab cripple you, or kill you. You then ran forward, jumping high into the air as you nodded to whoever was looking, and a bomb charge was thrown into the air.

Mid jump you directed the bomb towards Grievous, landing on the ground as you cut through some droids before jumping up and onto the wall beside Tech. “Miss me?” You asked, teasing almost despite the growing burning pain in your torso.

“You are critically injured Y/n, we are returning to the Marauder.” He stated, catching you in his arms as you stumbled forward when the pain had gotten too much. You nodded weakly, allowing Tech to pick you up in his arms.

You weren’t surprised at his amount of strength, he had shown many times that he had the muscle and the skill for many things outside of blaster combat.

Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair covered your exit, but soon you were all back on the Marauder and tech was already looking at the small hole in your abdomen. It was entirely cauterized, so all he had to do was put bacta on it and cover it.

Hunter piloted and also sent a message to the council that Grievous was there and that the operation was bigger than they thought, and that they were injured. You groaned and winced as Tech cleaned up the area a little bit before placing the bacta over both sides of the wound. He was being as gentle as possible with you, and you couldn’t help but stare.

His helmet was off, but as you studied him, you noticed a tear fall down his cheek, and then another. “Tech?” You called out, placing your hand on his. “You don’t need to cry, you know I'll be okay.” You whispered, holding his hand in yours. “I know, but you…”tech trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

“Tech, you can talk to me.” You whispered, hearing him sigh. “I find myself caring for you, more than I should. I don’t want to ever see you hurt.” He explained. You frowned, but nodded, gently reaching up to cup his cheek. “I care for you too Tech.” You whispered, slowly sitting up with a grunt before pulling him into your arms.

“I started having these feelings for you a while ago.” He muttered into your shoulder. You chuckled, pulling him back as you cupped his cheek again. “Me too Tech… I love you.” You expressed honestly, seeing him smile at you.

“Don’t ever duel Grievous on your own again.” He ordered sternly, but you simply rolled your eyes before pulling him into a gentle kiss.

Wrecker cheered in the background, only for Hunter to slap a hand over his mouth, pulling him into the cockpit with crosshair to give you and Tech some privacy.

“You can't give me orders, you know, I outrank you.” You whispered to Tech, who just rolled his eyes and pressed his lips to yours again.

➺

Tag list:

Tech tag:

Tbb:

@moomoog017 @only-my-unexistent-fiances

[sleeplessdreamer123]

Fanfic Idea! (ABO Lucemond, where Alicent overused her authority to send Rhaenyra's un-velaryon looking children to the sept)

Luke has lived in the sept all his life. He was told that he was a bastard, and that bastards were sent to the septs in order to apologize to the seven for being created. They were stains needed to be clean, and although this sin would never leave their souls, they would at least be used to work for the gods forever, as either as septon or septa, depending on what they are, and if they truly don't try to change their lustful ways, they would be sent to the silent sisters, or the wall.

Luke flowered into an omega three namedays ago, and was made to train as a septa. Omegas were rare, which meant he must have been a bastard of one of the "nobler" houses, something he just learned recently. He was a special case, because omegas are usually returned to the noble houses they came from, and Luke had hoped he would be returned, his wants for a family strong. He wasn't, however, and was only given certain scented clothes said to be from his family, but nothing more. Soon, even those dwindled, and the scents long gone. He has, however, kept the clothes as a reminder that he has a family somewhere.

Being an only omega has brought certain privileges, being given a room of his own (despite how small it was), and having to worship two specific gods, the Maiden and the Mother, instead of all seven. One who values omegas' chastity, the other who gave the omegas their ability to produced children. What's more is the fact that most of the worshippers of the Maiden and the Mother are often women, betas and omegas, and marked alphas, rarely an unmated alpha that Luke could "seduce", bastard that he was despite his omegan gift.

Luke would pray with them, and they would ask him to pray for them specially. He would agree, doing his best to remember their names, and would pray for them all. One of the most who prays to them came in the form of Queen Consort Alicent, who usually brought along her daughter Helaena, who Luke miraculously befriended (he was the only one who talked to her kindly, and included her in his prayers without being asked). She comes to pray almost every moon, leaving King's Landing in favor of Oldtown, finding comfort in her childhood Sept.

This moon was no different, her entering the prayer hall of the Mother, where Luke was praying in. It was only when he was done praying did he notice a different figure beside her. Instead of soft Helaena, he sees a large man with white hair looking straight at him. The incense burning might have been able to disguise most of their scents, but Luke didn't need scent to know that the man was an alpha.

Though strange, he ignored him. He had been in the sept for years, there have been alphas praying to the Mother, but never an unmarked one. Still, he was sure that, since he was with the queen, he would be respectful. After the prayers, he went to greet the Queen, as he often do. He gave a polite nod to the man beside her, who the Queen introduced to be her son, Aemond.

After a small chat, and learning that Helaena is with child once more, the queen and her son left.

Then a few days later, a letter was sent to the sept, asking Luke to be one of the septas watching over the twins Helaena already had. Though a bit overwhelmed, he along with the others chosen were placed on a boat and sent to King's Landing. Luke was greeted by a sight of a large dragon. Though the others cowered, he did not. He was quite fascinated by the large beast, who flew to who knows where. He thinks he might have caught a glimpse of white hair, but that doesn't really tell him anything of the rider. All Targaryens have white hair, he was taught that in passing.

He slowly became the favorite septa of the twins out of all the others. They shared their mother's oddity, their liking for creeping, crawling little creatures, so while the others could barely keep themselves from running once they see the large spider, or the flying moth, Luke, though a bit hesitant, wasn't as easily scared.

What the twins like the most was him not fearing their dragons. The dragons in turn also don't seem to dislike Luke as much as the others, to his confusion. Mayhaps they are more inclined to omegas?

Other than taking care of the twins, Luke spends time with Helaena, who was getting bigger with each month, her stomach bulging to quite the size, and the kicks looking quite visible at times, which scared and intrigued Luke. The babe aside, Helaena was still quite normal, or about as normal as Helaena could be. Luke enjoyed talking to her, though her words were often confusing, he enjoys the bright look in her eyes when he manages to translate some of her words. She speaks in riddles, can't seem to stop, so it felt very rewarding whenever he managed to guess what she meant.

The there was her brother (the younger one, not the one she's married to), who seemed really close to her with the amount of times he visited only to find both of them talking. When Luke tries to stand and bow, before leaving them to speak, he (prince Aemond) would stop him, saying he would simply wait until their discussions were over, before leaning on the wall, watching them. Luke doesn't really feel comfortable after that, so he would cut their meeting short, despite Helaena showing sadness, and leaving in a haste back to the twin's room.

Usually he would only see prince Aemond during those encounters, but lately, he has been seeing him everywhere. When he takes the children to the garden, he would be there, when he gets called by the Queen, he would just so happened to be there in the same hallway to accompany him, as they were going the same way. When he goes to the library to look for certain books he would read to the twins, he would magically appear at his side, willing to hold them for him. Now he knows this could be all be just a simple coincidence, but even one of the queen's guards told him not to be too close to the prince as it would be a greater sin as a septa.

So he does his best to be with another septa at all times. When he sees him at any time, he would suddenly remember he needed to do something, a snack he wished to make the twins, a book he accidentally left at the library, a certain insect they wished to see, and he would leave the other way, dragging the other septa with him.

This went on for weeks. He was a bit more agitated now, however, because when he opened his drawer next to his bed, he found that the herbs for suppressing heats weren't there. His was quite a special blend, his body being different from a female omega, and would take some time to make. He hesitantly told Helaena, who was most understanding, even giving him her own suppressant, hoping it would at least ease his pain. The Maester says he could make another batch, though it would take a few days to gather the ingredients needed. A few days he didn't have.

So there he was, in his room, sweating profusely, the herbs given long gone. Helaena told him she has sent someone trustworthy to watch over him, and to guard the door to other unmarked alphas from barging into his room. He was immensely thankful, as this heat would be the first one outside the safety of the sept.

When he felt the worse was over, though still groggy, he opened the door for a little while to ask for some food and water. What he got was a slap in the face as a fairly familiar scent wafted through causing his symptoms to return. He quickly slammed the door and groaned, returning to his bed for comfort.

Of course Helaena asked Prince Aemond to watch over his door.

-----------

(so, I'm back to writing again 🥳 might take it a bit slow though, writer's block is still there. Hope you guys enjoy this in the mean time🤗)

[resolutepath]

“ i’m not here to talk about me. what the is going on with you? ” oh this called to me from sunday to elio for some reason

There is a hiss between teeth as sound filters into the space it occupies, vessel uncomfortable as the one known as Elio attempts to sit up straight, managing a reclined slouch that likes neither as refined nor composed as his usual posture. Fingers curl into the rich fabric of the couch, pressing deeply until it crinkles beneath digits, knuckles whitening with the efforts. It is a concentrated effort to peel them away once the most upright position is obtained, and Elio swipes one through loose locks, attempting to bring the disarray into some form of order, ignoring the thump behind the eyes, the sharp agony that is only hindered by shaded lenses. Upon his tongue is a query as to Sunday's intentions and yet before he can make it amusingly, the other has charted the course of the conversation in an adept and succinct manner, cutting off any chance of distraction being an option.

"A minor inconvenience... it will pass soon enough..." It hardly covers the extent of the affliction, merely the fact that it will pass, but it is one of the more closely guarded facets of the abilities he holds. Yet, still he is so keenly aware of the halovian seeking place within the Stellaron Hunters, in finding purpose and meaning in the operation that is run and to dismiss the concerns now might destabilise what has already been forged.

So Elio raises a trembling hand and offers Sunday the seat at his side, waiting until he makes himself comfortable, before fingers curl atop the blanket that shrouds his frame in piles of fleece and comfort, leaving a more vulnerable image of the figure that has been otherwise untouchable in the way he has presented until now. For a moment there is silence, this one born of an agitated calm, permeated by the unanswered questions about his state, the change within his demeanour.

"We all have our trials we must face... I am not an exemption... though this information is that which I do not distribute so readily..." A pause, given the emphasis the stretch of trust held out in this space, the welcoming into a smaller group within their team, the gifting of a knowledge not easily shared. It is less abrasive than dismissing Sunday entirely, but the tone used is one that emplores for pity to be left at the door, to accept that this is but a fact of existence. It is not something that Elio wishes to be coddled over but rather supported through, for it is the penance of knowledge, another part of the curse of knowing too much. When one is gifted the abilities of an aeon but still contains the fragility of a man, there are consequences that cannot be ignored.

"When a muscle is overused... it aches and must be rested, Destiny's gaze... is no different. It has great advantages... but they come with consequence..." There is a pause as Elio's head throbs and the room spins, and he raises his palm to press against his the centre of his forehead as though it might ease the ache. It won't. The only relief he finds is in laying down and allowing time to pass while he remains prone, hoping there is not too much time lost. "And I am afraid that... I have overtaxed myself once again..."

A shuddered breath passes over lips and for once Elio seems the closes to human that he has been, vessel shuddering, lips pressed in a thin line, fingers curling. He wants to move, to rise, to fight but he has not the capacity for it. Sitting upright is battle enough and one he will not win long term. "You know as well as I do the weight of consequence, Sunday. In time this will pass... until then I must... endure." He pauses, giving in to the need to sink, head turning so he might keep his gaze affixed upon the other and though he is wrought with pain he still smiles, allows lips to curl upwards. He is glad for the company, though he may not be of much use for some time.

"You need not linger... I have born this far longer than you know. But if you wish to stay, I will be grateful for your company..." In this there will be no direction offered, only choice as a shaky breath passes lips, and Elio lets lids shut for a moment, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. It will pass, and though it will be a struggle to endure, it will be worth it for those he considers his own, for the universe he desires to save.

@avaere

[thepseudowoodo]

Hoodcraft: Part 1

Hey hi hello how are you all doing, staring hard directly at you, KCD fandom, yes this is a post about how to draft your own pattern for your own medieval hood. It will go up in 2 parts, and this first part is for the basic hood. Nothing fancy, just a basic garment. Please note that this post assumes a base level of sewing competence. It is for people who have sewn before. I will of course answer any questions that come up to the best of my ability, but this post isn't intended to teach you the basics of sewing. Directions follow the cut.

For this project, you will need:

paper for taking notes and something to take notes with

graph paper

measuring tape

A straight edge or flat ruler (I prefer the ruler)

Optional but recommended:

a roll of wrapping paper, bonus if you get the kind with the grid printed on the back

To begin, let's talk about the anatomy of a hood. While the entire garment is called a hood, the upper portion which encompasses the head, is the hood "proper". The part that joins at the neck and falls over the shoulders is generally called a cape or capelet. The tail you see on some hoods is called a liripipe, and the decorative edging at the hem is called dagging. Most hoods you see in KCD don't have dagging or liripipes, and that's because those features of a hood were considered expensive and fashionable. Indeed, at one point people were getting so ridiculous with their liripipe size and length (big liripipe = big wallet) that sumptuary laws were passed to limit their size. We'll talk about them more in the next post.

In order to begin your journey to hoodness, you will first have to take some measurements. I like to advise people to round up to the nearest half or whole inch with all of these, because not only does it make your patterning life easier, it gives you a little wiggle room to work with later.

Measure your head circumference (A) at the widest point of your head, usually just above your eyebrows. If you have an especially large nose or hate pulling clothing too tightly over your head and face, you may wish to add an extra half an inch to an inch to this measurement.

Measure your face length (B) from the forward center of your head (around your hairline) to the lowest point of your chin.

Measure your head depth (C) from the center-ish of your forehead to slightly below that point on the back of your head.

Measure your hem circumference (D) by figuring out how far down your shoulders or arms you want the hood to fall, and measuring around your body (arms included) at that level. You may need to get a little help keeping the measuring tape straight with this one.

Measure your desired cape length (E) by measuring from your jaw to the level you measured your hem at. Do not pull the measuring tape taught when you do this; let it hang so that it follows down your neck and along your shoulder.

Now that we have all those numbers, we're going to take a quick look at the geometry of a hood. At its most basic form, a hood is just a rectangle on top of a trapezoid. But that's not the most comfortable or attractive garment to wear, so let's look at the advanced version. The advanced hood has more curves and slopes to it, allowing it to fit our heads and necks more comfortably. The back of the head curves inward, reducing bulk at the back of the neck. It also curves in under the chin, keeping the face from being completely engulfed in fabric and reducing the limitations on peripheral vision. We like being able to see our enemies charging at us from the side, after all.

Now, this is where you want graph or grid paper. Trust me, this part of the process is so much easier if you use gridmarked paper. What we're doing now is taking those measurements and drawing a miniature version of our pattern. We'll start by forming the rectangle of our hood. Measure out the top of the hood using measurement (C). (NOTE: I mislabeled the images here as 1/2 A; disregard that. I'm just an idiot) From that, measure the length of the face opening (B). Once you have those two lines drawn, complete the rectangle.

Now we draw our trapezoid. From the center of the bottom line, measure down for your desired hood length (E). Then, from each of the lower corners, measure out on a rough diagonal the same length (a ruler helps with this). Typically you won't need to go more than about 45 degrees with this angle, unless you are very broad in the shoulder. Connect these three points with a gently curved line to shape your hem. Ideally, you want this line to end up being no less than 1/2 D - it has to fit around your body, remember. If you're in doubt, angle your lines out a little more and redraw the line.

Now we have our basic hood geometry, it's time to make it a little more advanced. I recommend doing this in a different pen or marker than you used to draw the basic shape. You can make these changes however you want, based on what you think will be most comfortable for you. My personal changes are as follows:

1) I curved the point on the back top of the hood; this is aesthetic, I'm not a big fan of the little pointy tail when I wear the hood

2) I curved the back of the neck in near the base of my head

3) I extended the front of the hood outward and upward an inch at the top. This serves the main purpose of giving me a peak on the hood that will add more shade to the front of my face when I wear it.

4) I curved in the neck beneath the chin; This will help keep the hood from getting in the way if I look down, and it sits more attractively on my front

Now we're going to transfer our miniature pattern onto a correctly scaled pattern. This is where I really highly recommend the grid-printed wrapping paper, because it makes measuring and drawing patterns SO MUCH EASIER. If all you have is taped together printer paper, though, that's cool too. Because you've basically done this step already once. We're just redoing the patterning process in actual size now. If you aren't doing this on gridded paper, make sure you're careful about keeping your lines straight. This is also a perfect time to check and make sure that this pattern will fit you. For example, when I was measuring this pattern, I realized that in adding shaping around the neck, I had made the opening there too small. The most narrow point in the hood should be no smaller than 1/2 A. After all, you have to get your head through it. You can see here that I redrew the back of the hood, bringing it out an inch but keeping the same slope that I had drawn originally. If you do have to make changes, make sure you mark the old line somehow so that you don't accidentally use it; I double-slash along the length of the line.

And there you go! You have a hood pattern. Now, standard sewing disclaimers apply here: make a mock-up to make sure it fits before you cut into your actual fabric; remember this pattern doesn't include seam allowances so you should either add them onto the pattern yourself or allow for them when you trace and cut the fabric, etc.

Today or tomorrow I'll get the second post up going into detail about how to make your hood fancy. For now, go forth! Make hoods! Frolic in them! They are seriously such good accessories.

[thedragonagelesbian]

Sosiel frowned as he worked, hands and pages smudged with charcoal from a whole hour of trying--and failing--to sketch the Knight Commander. Kyrith'enderax was... mystifying. If the dhampir had any fangs to speak of, he hid them well behind the perfect line of his mouth, drawn as straight and tight as the rest of him, rigid from the base of his skull to the tips of his toes. Whether it was a kind of rigor mortis or simply his disposition, Sosiel didn't know, but he struggled to capture it in his sketches. Occasionally, he could glimpse the beauty of it. The lines of Kyrith'enderax's body like the shadow of an aspen cast in winter, harsh but elegant.

But this morning, his sketches looked more like rows of soldiers in formation, strict and sad.

There were other drawings at the margins. A paladin of the Sunrise Order with hollow eyes. A gargoyle's bloodied wing. The cruel silhouette of a hellknight's helm.

He was studying Kyrith'enderax's shoulders-- one perpetually covered in some kind of frostbitten magic, both bared to the world despite the cold as he disassembled the camp. Tying up his bedroll, he caught sight of Sosiel. They made eye contact for a moment--Sosiel couldn't imagine trying to paint his eyes, amber and lacquered like rosin--before Kyrith'enderax glanced down at the book.

"You keep drawing. Even in the field."

"I would be rather limited if I only sketched what I saw in the Crusade camp," Sosiel replied. "The world around us is so unstable. Especially now, during this war. A friend's smile, the curve of a tree, the glow of a fire-- if we do not preserve them, the rare moments of beauty we still have will be lost in the flow of time." Kyrith'enderax kept staring at the sketchbook, as if he could see the drawings through the cover, and with a small, defensive cough, Sosiel added, "And I promise, Commander, it does not distract from my duties."

"Why would I care if it did?"

The question was matter-of-fact, so Sosiel answered honestly: "A Hellknight would think it frivolous."

"I am not a Hellknight."

"You've inquired twice now about becoming one."

Kyrith'enderax paused, eyes flickering every which way before landing at some point decidedly next to but not on Sosiel's face. "Your creativity is..." he ran his tongue over his bottom lip before shaking his head. "Admirable. I cannot see this world as you do, it is still too new to me, but your ability to find beauty in it and document it is beautiful in its own right. I am honored to be included in that project."

And there it was, the reason why Sosiel had been scribbling nonstop since he woke up, and a few hours the night before too, trying to square two different versions of Kyrith'enderax in his head: the man of stilted but undeniable kindness who had comforted him as he had buried his friends twice over, and the cold commander who had professed interest in an organization as wretched as the Hellknights.

"Permission to speak freely?"

"You do not need to ask for it."

"I do not wish to overstep my bounds, but..." Sosiel flipped through his sketchbook to a drawing from last night: the curve of Kyrith'enderax's mouth, caught in a rare moment of downturn. "I saw something pass over you when the paralictor ordered Yaker to be punished for abandoning his post. You seemed upset."

And again now, a tightening around the corners as Kyrith'enderax ducked his head. "How observant."

"It is as much a part of being a cleric as it of being an artist." Sosiel offered him a smile, though he didn't know if Kyrith'enderax could see it. "We need not talk about it if you do not want to; I only mean to say... that you do not strike me as cruel."

"You have not known me for long."

"Am I wrong?"

Kyrith'enderax reached up to touch his shoulder, digging his nails into the magic frozen there. "I hope that you are not. And I hope that you understand that there is nothing more odious to me than the abuse of authority... but hope counts for less than discipline. I am a dhampir. If I am not cruel, it is only because I have mastered myself."

As he spoke, Sosiel found his charcoal pencil in his hand again, and Kyrith'enderax's shoulder came to life underneath it-- not as a mere straight line but as tension, tautness, breaking before bending.

"Is that what you seek among the Hellknights? Discipline? Mastery?"

"Yes." For as cold as the rest of him was, Kyrith'enderax's eyes burned, flashing to Sosiel's and darting away again, sparks dancing in the cave. "Though... perhaps not with them. I have inured myself to much; that should not include the suffering of others."

Sosiel let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. "Oh, I must admit I am relieved to hear that. I believe that you have more hope than you give yourself credit for-- it would be a shame to watch the Hellknights snuff it out."

"Thank you." Kyrith'enderax's cheeks darkened, a flush of life underneath the ice. "That means more to me than you could know."

"Of course, friend."

"...May I see them? The, ah, drawings you've done of me?"

"Oh..." Now it was Sosiel's turn to glance away. "There's nothing to look at yet. This isn't even a draft, more a series of random sketches. The slope of your neck, the curve of your lip, your gestures..." Kyrith'enderax's blush deepened, and Sosiel felt a bit warm in the face too. "It's not much to look at."

"Do not be ashamed. There are some artists whose sketches I prefer to their finished works. The tactility of rough, unrefined, instinctive artistry is enticing." The last word curled up from the usual rasping of his voice into something almost like a purr. Quickly, Kyrith'enderax coughed and continued, "But if you do not wish to share, I will not push the matter. In fact, I have distracted you enough from your work. I will not bother you anymore."

Before Sosiel could assure him that it wasn't a bother, Kyrith'enderax had stood and darted off. With a soft sigh, Sosiel turned to a clean page and began sketching what the Knight Commander might look like smiling.

[runicmagitek]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Oh my goodness, this is so sweet, anon 🥺 I've been having a rough weekend and feeling really self-conscious about my ability/worth as a writer, so this was well-timed and genuinely made me smile. Thank you for sending this!

Ho boy, it's tough to narrow down the to my top five favorite fics, because I have a lot of fics. I love all of them for one reason or another, so this is difficult lol. That said, here's my attempt at a top five, in no particular order.

What Leads You Here A post-canon deep dive into Keitaro's and Natsuno's trauma and how they mourn what they lost and learn to heal and move on together. It picks up immediately where the game ends and explores numerous things I love, from worldbuilding to slice-of-life interactions to delicious angst to heavy hurt with equally heavy comfort. I'm really proud of how I was able to write and edit and post a 214k fic within roughly two years. I put a massive amount of research into this along with using a lot of my own personal experiences and am REALLY happy that those who stuck around til the end thoroughly enjoyed the ride. This story will always have a special place in my heart.

The Lies We Tell Ourselves It's very difficult for me to talk about this fic without ruining the entire game. But I came up with this idea and wrote/edited it within roughly four days?? Like it possessed me and I couldn't focus on anything else until I wrote it. BJ and his journey is extremely heartwrenching and just thinking about what he might have come across and how he handled any of that (or didn't) felt like a story worth exploring. It also has some of my favorite lines I've written in recent years, especially the second to last scene.

The Wings That You Burn Holy shit, I cried a lot when I worked on this fic. It's a Celes-centric fic from Sabin's POV during the start of World of Ruin. I love VI, but in retrospect, I wish Celes was given more time to heal after everything that happened at the Solitary Island. And with Sabin being one of the first people she finds, he's the perfect character to remind her she deserves to live, no matter what.

Burning Bright Yet another fic that made me cry while working on it (this is a trend - I love me some angst). I love Steiner and his friendship with Vivi and (much like Celes in VI) I was really sad there wasn't any like, touch base with Vivi after everything that happened with Black Waltz 3 and the South Gate incident. Trauma and healing are core themes that keep cropping up in my stories, which probably says a lot about myself more than anything lolsob but honestly, I really love seeing characters support one another, despite it all. And I'm genuinely thrilled so many readers said this felt like a missing scene straight out of the game, too.

Long Journey Home You guessed it - this fic also tore out my heart while writing it. There's a reason it's tagged as "sad with a happy ending". Kentucky Route Zero is such a profoundly tragic game and exploring the possibilities of Ezra's past in this fic really hit close to home for me. That and weaving in magical realism and devising fantastical situations were such a fun challenge. This also contains my favorite passage I've ever written (and I very clearly remember needing to get up and walk off the feels for at least five minutes after I wrote this damn line):

She patted his head, much like how he patted the dog’s head. When she left, Ezra stayed and listened to the water carry them elsewhere. He thought of the people he met and those who stayed and those who didn’t and if anyone ever cried for the ghosts of who he used to be.

[whenthechickencry]

Umineko EP7. Replay Part 1

The contrast between the somber, funeral, scenes of Battler with Beatrice's corpse and the inquisitor scenes with LiberatedLiberator playing are very funny.... also the battler scenes are very tender. "Then, he kissed (The book), ...and laid it gently in the casket" The game is making me sad already lol. Wonder if people who had figured that S = K but not Sayo were stumped by this... I mean it would be short-lived since the episode reveals what happened but. R07 does like testing even the readers that did get the answer.

Will is obviously the ideal Battler that Battler hoped Sayo would be, the one who would look for the heart of her mystery, and he's very dashing in this scene lol, sadly the reality is different than the ideal.... This episode has a pretty good opening, actually, I like it a lot. The funeral scene where everyone has their own reaction to the death of Beatrice is interesting, it really highlights how many different things and people 'Beatrice' is. Speaking of people 'Beatrice' is....

This episode has a bunch of new songs, I forgot how many songs were unique to or introduced in this episode, it adds to the unique vibe this episode has, also they are all really good so.... Lion is so "mild-mannered" (as the game puts it) that he just straight up ignores that there's a flying girl in front of him and just tells her to step off the altar, lol.

Bernkastel introduces the mystery of "Who Killed Beatrice?" along with the side-mystery of who is Lion. Lion is extremely annoyed by all this.

Lion having no memory of Kanon is the first hint introduced, besides being Natsuhi's child. Lion mentions being used to unreasonable situations due to being forced to deal with Kinzo.... which is kind of ironic when you think about how that is true for Sayo in a completely different way. Will didn't seem to see Lion as much more than just a clueless, curious, piece at first but his demeanor forced him to acknowledge a piece as an equal. It is a pretty endearing relationship that was definitely pulled off nicely in the short time they had. Eva is uh, definitely not happy about the existence of Lion....

Everyone's really comfortable calling Beatrice his mistress here - in main worlds, it seemed to be a more taboo topic.... the fact that the witch legend didn't exist in this world probably lead to people talking about Beatrice-as-a-Person more in this fragment I suppose.

I wouldn't put it that confidently but.... it's not like ignoring her and letting her be locked in a cage where she is under Kinzo's control is a good place to be either.

Non-voiced dialogue.... right yeah this episode was censored a lot during the console version.

Bernkastel gets the theatergoing ability from Bernkastel in order to force Kinzo to talk. Shannon reveals she struggles to remember Lion, and Will catches this. They talk, and he orders her to bring Kanon, she hints at Sayo and Shannon.exe starts breaking down from conflicting instructions. She starts referring to Sayo as "The one who orders us"

This scene's pretty interesting... because if you think about it the one would get checkmate is Beato and not Will right? But Will is the one getting warned. I have been kind of rocking my head at this for a bit - but I can see a couple interpretations. I could see it as a commentary on how S = K isn't the full answer and you need to keep thinking above that to reach a real answer - on a meta-level maybe Will would have been fucked by forcing an illegal move idk. Interesting scene to think about lol.

Kinzo: Beatrice is mine alone. No matter what anyone says, no one can defile our story. Ugh, gross to think about. You yourself already defiled your own story with Beatrice, Kinzo. Genji starts being pushy about Beatrice II being Beatrice reborn.... no wonder Sayo can't get herself to have positive feelings toward Genji. I can find myself as having more sympathy towards Kumasawa, though.... I think the way making pranks passed from one to the other is cute and in general seems to have less power and willingness to enable Kinzo... still, though, the fact the person is basically your mother hiding your dad's abuse and having you play along with a dumb riddle game for the sake of said abuser.... The images of Kumasawa thinking she's playing dead and slowly realizing she is in fact being killed makes me sad, though.

Kumasawa: "You could sometimes catch a glimpse of his great love for the late Beatrice-sama, and it was a heart-warming thing."... Kumasawa's way of saying Kinzo is a groomer without saying it directly, and Will catches on to what she actually means. Oh Lion starts crying right now when the only thing he knows is that he did some grooming.... your day is about to get so much worse Lion. "Everything was decided by someone other than me".... and Kinzo eventually ended up putting that burden on several Beatrices, the one who ironically broke him free of that hell.

We get a bunch of introductions to the overall setting, Kinzo talking about how he's waiting to die and about how he hates pretty much everyone else on the island. Then Kinzo meets Beatrice and they immediately hit it off. I forgot the first talk they had with each other after meeting each other was about how they both feel controlled and defined by their families.... it makes sense they can relate to each other in that way. It is sad to think that instead of breaking that chain Kizno instead furthered it to about 10 different people.

Ah, hahaha, it's kind of sad to think about how Kinzo's wife was definitely bothered about the cheating... it'd be one thing if they both didn't give a fuck about the relationship but.... Natsuhi mentions relating to her once I think so I can't imagine her situation was happy, whatever it was.

The reveal of the tens of gold comes from the Italians no longer being able to hide it due to their ship sinking slowly.

Weird tangent but it's kind of fascinating to see Kinzo as an interpreter because I work as a professional Spanish-english interpreter... Kinzo does sooooo many things that would get me fired haha. Of course, he's not a professional interpreter and I am certainly not a wartime interpreter. Kinzo is a liar in his retelling of the events, of course, in actuality he was the one who first recommended shooting the Italians first. The choice is framed as letting everyone but you and the person you love die but uh, it is closer to risking her life and hoping she's fine.

It was certainly not his intention to let her die but.... it's certainly a risk he should have considered more thoroughly before deciding to blow the Italians up.

Kinzo: "Can't you see that you caused all this because you were blinded by gold." Yeah, sure Kinzo, they did.

Part of what drove even Beatrice 1 to wanting to die is the fact that Kinzo's planning got everyone close to her killed....

Kinzo took Beatrice to Nanjo who kept the secret for him, and then Beatrice died during childbirth.

And then he's also bribed by Sayo, haha, I mean he isn't very good at lying in hindsight but also no one figured anything out *due* to him so....

Will talks about how Battler might have been removed as a way to make the puzzle harder which is interesting. Bernkastel DOES believe Battler remembers his promise to some extent even as a piece... Jessica probably feels less pressure in this world if anything... I can imagine not bearing the brunt of Natsuhi's expectations and allowed to be herself probably helps everyone in that relationship a little bit.

Maria corrects Will on his bible knowledge haha that's very cute. This line always struck to me and I always remember it... it's a way to connect why people use magic to a situation we all know. Obviously, this is not what the Bible meant but it did give her the power to love herself as is.

Maria mentions she told to everyone about how she wanted to meet the witch and then Beatrice appeared in front of her, in other words Sayo indulged her and they became good friends after that, hahaha. This is so cute I am crying.

Will gets into the non-existence of Lion with the chair arrangement and into the number of accomplices with the number of people able to see Beatrice.... Maria sure is a good witness when you bother to talk to her on her terms. Will reasons this was after Beatrice started existing but before it had anything to do with Battler. Will tells Jessica that he approves of her living her life like she wants to and keeping her hobbies in spite of it all... narrative points out this is probably the first time someone approved of how Jessica lived her life. Ouch. Jessica talks about how she doesn't gaf too much about Beatrice and how she thinks Maria is a bit freaky about being too into Maria and it was too vivid... which it quite literally was because she did meet Beatrice. Jessica is extremely classy about it.

Will chides her for being like this by pointing out her motto is creating another self how you want to be and that's exactly what Maria is doing.

Jessica coughing a ton in order to change the subject is brought up here. I think she probably does actually have asthma, though, just uses that to her advantage sometimes. Jessica is still gloomy about the argument a day later, she talks to Kumasawa about it and she dares her to curse her for that and uh, THEN she goes to Shannon and Gohda and denies it AGAIN... man Jessica you had like 4 chances to back down out of it. Jessica knows exactly what happened but is too scared to admit it to herself... I imagine that might be what is going on with Kinzo and Shkannon as well.

Will breaks Jessica's reality by pointing out the sitting arrangement issue, but I guess she'll probably just rationalize it anyway so it is fine.

Kinzo probably did his best to quit the rumors since they were rude and since his mental state was probably a bit better in this world and there was no Sayo to build the legend of the witch, well....

Will starts his description of who killed Beatrice by revealing that Maria can tell people apart not by their appearance but by their actions. "She believed the power of witches could change her unfulfilling and incomplete life".... I mean not wrong, but ouch...Lion makes the connection that Beatrice is kind of a character Sayo is playing. It's cool how the tension you feel in this scene as Will slowly edges to the conclusion.

Lion: Are you trying to say Beatrice and I are two sides of the same coin? Lion's 100% correct here lol. Lion starts getting pissed when he starts revealing Lion's backstory, which is understandable.... he can tell Kinzo DID have favoritism towards him so he keeps hearing though. This is kind of sad just itself.... Natsuhi and Lion have a good parent-child relationship if they are allowed to exist together it's just the circumstances that allow them to be together are too harsh for that to happen...

The choice of whether Lion will see Beatrice or not is interesting to me.... I mean, it won't be pretty and will add a bunch of trauma that he was saved from in this life, but.... Beatrice being seen and accepted by Lion would probably mean a lot to her, I think... I don't know what Lion would think of Beatrice but the idea of Lion denying her makes me very sad. It would probably be very hard to process though. Think there's kind of an implicit "Do you have the right to judge 'bad' people when they could have been you had you been born in different circumstances" kind of argument going on here. They start discussing Lion's gender, and we start talking about how that was a constant point of contention in the games, which is about the one thing that hasn't been spelled out yet by now...

R07 starts beating you over the head with how all the answers are available in ep1-4 and the next games were just answers lol. Probably a little frustrated by people at people having I'll wait until i get more hints approach. She's right though.... like Lambdadelta dropped soooo many hints and it was still not enough. Battler definitely deserves some shit.

Sayo is confused about why they were brought to Ushiromiya's family when they don't have any relevant skills. It's certainly not the beginning of it but it's probably the first time Sayo felt that her fate was being chosen by someone for reasons unknown to her.... Sayo was just in elementary school.... she really wasn't allowed much of any life before Genji started dragging her around for his plans. I wonder what Genji told Natsuhi to make an excuse for Sayo to get there. If you just tell her Kinzo said so she probably can't object too much though. They did what? Jesus christ, I forgot how bad her life was even pre-rokkenjima....

Sayo is helped by "Shannon", which is mentioned was her friend in the Gospel House as well... sad to think her life has sucked so much to this point that they had to make an imaginary friend before she even got to Rokkenjima. Ok yeah Natsuhi confirms she was told Kinzo just did this lol. I wonder what Kinzo thought but at this point I imagine he was too busy feeling guilty about Beatrice to care too much about the house going ons. Lion wakes up and says he doesn't regret finding out but he wants to forget which is a fair, probably. They start discussing how this was Genji's plan. Bernkastel starts taunting Lion about not being biological and everyone just kind of ignores her, which fair enough she doesn't even believe what she's saying. We go back to Clair's home life being kind of fucky. worsened by Genji's machinations.

I've kind of been avoiding the subject because it's really obvious but the Gospel House is really fucked. Stripping children of their names, sending them to work after middle school... Haha, I wonder why no one talks behind her back or why she can't pick up your tasks.

Natsuhi tells Sayo to not to be Jessica's friend, because of course she does. Sayo has every right to fucking hate Natsuhi. If only Genji chose to separate Kinzo from Sayo fully instead of making her entire life a redemption play for her mother's rapist.... They bring up the age difference and how it was necessary to have Natsuhi and Kinzo be fooled, which is another way in which Sayo's entire identity was denied for others. Sayo recounting the way she loses things sounds just like ADHD haha, anyways that's how Beatrice-Gaap is born. Sayo mentions how the reason she can 'see' things even when they are not there is due to the way she has been taught God is everywhere even though you can't see him. That's definitely interesting to me.... it's always interesting to hear about how children interpret religious superstitions, you definitely see a lot of children interpreting stuff like imaginary friends, mental illness, etc. Like that. Being perceived and understood is to be saved.

Sayo gives up and realizes the broom was outside and picks it up, in the meta she has become friends with the broom-stealing Beatrice. Kumasawa starts teaching her how to not lose stuff but filters it through magic talk, which becomes the basis for her entire system of magic.... Kumasawa.... again I think that Kumasawa is probably the most healthy relationship Sayo had for most of her life.

Sayo realizes when people who are cruel to her make the same mistake as the ones they mock her for it feels good... that's true even if she causes the mistake herself. Natsuhi really fucked Sayo's life in sooo many ways... I really like Sayo I am not meaning to demonize her but god damn I don't think anyone can give Sayo shit for hating her.

Mystery novels are also a hands-me-down from Kumasawa... there's a reason why Virgilia is the original Beatrice!

Interesting how the whole concept of the game was born out of Sayo just wanting to make reading mystery novels funner for her, haha, I mean it is funnier to figure things out if you imagine there's an opponent you have to beat, I suppose!

[we-the-chefs]

Local Food Love: Discovering Nearby Homemade Delights

In a world dominated by fast food and restaurant chains, there's something incredibly special about savoring a meal that tastes like it was made in the warmth of your own kitchen. Homemade food has a unique charm, offering flavors that are rich, comforting, and often healthier than their commercial counterparts. Whether you're craving something nostalgic or just want a break from the usual takeout, exploring home food delivery services can be a game-changer. In this blog, we'll dive into the local scene, focusing on how you can easily order homemade food, including authentic South Indian dishes, right here in Gurgaon.

The Comfort of Home Food Delivery

With the rise of food delivery services, it's now easier than ever to enjoy home-cooked meals without having to spend hours in the kitchen. Home food delivery services connect you with talented local chefs who prepare meals with the same love and attention to detail that you'd find in your own home. This trend is perfect for those who want to eat healthy, delicious meals but don't have the time or energy to cook every day.

Whether you're looking for traditional North Indian curries, wholesome Bengali fare, or spicy South Indian dishes, there's a home food delivery service in Gurgaon that can cater to your cravings. These services often offer a wide variety of options, from everyday meals to special diets, ensuring there's something for everyone.

Order South Indian Food Near Me in Gurgaon

For those with a soft spot for the flavors of South India, you're in luck! Gurgaon is home to a number of talented chefs who specialize in South Indian cuisine. From crispy dosas to flavorful sambar and tangy rasam, these dishes are prepared using authentic recipes passed down through generations. When you order South Indian food near you in Gurgaon, you're not just getting a meal—you're getting a taste of tradition and culture.

One of the great things about ordering from a home chef is the ability to customize your meal. Whether you prefer your food extra spicy, or you're looking for a specific dietary requirement, many home chefs are happy to accommodate your needs. Plus, knowing that your meal is made fresh, with quality ingredients, adds an extra layer of satisfaction.

Why Choose Homemade?

Homemade food isn't just about taste—it's about nourishment. Meals prepared at home often use fresher ingredients, less oil, and fewer preservatives compared to restaurant food. This means you're getting a meal that's not only delicious but also better for your health. Additionally, by supporting local home chefs, you're contributing to the community, helping small businesses thrive, and encouraging a culture of healthy eating.

The convenience of having these meals delivered straight to your door is just the icing on the cake. Whether you're ordering for a family dinner or just for yourself, home food delivery offers a personalized experience that you simply can't get from a regular restaurant.

How to Get Started

If you're ready to explore the world of homemade delights in Gurgaon, start by searching for home food delivery services in your area. Many platforms and apps allow you to browse menus, read reviews, and place orders with just a few clicks. When searching, use keywords

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

HEAR ME OUT!!!! LANCE HATES WHEN PEOPLE TOUCH HIS BACK BC OF THE EXPLOSION PLS PLS PLS

Y'know I've thought about this a lot :0

-----

The thing about being thrown into space on a giant metal blue lion in the middle of a galactic war you had no idea was happening; everyone you know has faced a near-death experience. The team quickly became numb to certain things that would take months to years to process and overcome on earth. 

Every day they were fighting for their lives and the lives of each other; chugging along to make it through each day. 

Lance was aware of this. He knew they had to block certain things from their mind in order to keep pushing through; which is why he hated how much he relived the explosion. 

He didn’t relive it physically over and over again, but his mind made him feel like he was physically reliving it. He kept this issue hidden away. Didn’t tell the team the countless nights he woke up to ringing in his ears, his skin sticky with sweat, a scream dying in his throat. 

He didn’t tell the team the reason the bags under his eyes were beginning to match Shiro's was because every time he closed his eyes the sound echoed in his mind. The burning sensation consumed him and he swore he could still feel the flames lick at him. 

Lance felt as if he was constantly on edge. Parties were no longer entertaining for him. He dreaded every new person that entered the castle, no matter the smile they wore on their face. 

He hated how he saw everyone as a threat, constantly checking behind him to make sure nothing was trying to sneak up behind him. He no longer spent time in the observation deck, wishing that he was home. 

The only comfort he found was inside of Blue or wrapped up in his bed. 

“I tell you what, you paladins of Voltron are just what we need to win this war,” the king of the planet they had just freed slapped his hand (it was more of a penguin fin) on Lance’s back. 

Lance felt his entire body go stiff, his breath getting caught in his throat. The sounds around him began to swim in his mind, nothing was clear anymore. His mouth suddenly went dry, his eyes frantically scanning the area around him and someone laughed in the space around him. 

The pressure was removed off his back and he quickly took a step away, trying not to make his motions seem wobbly. 

“We are just happy to help. I hope we can count on you for our attack against the Galran empire.” Allura's voice slowly rang clear in his mind and he slowly regained the ability to fill his lungs. 

He bolted back to his lion as soon as he was given the cue, letting himself shake in his chair for a moment. Trying to shake the image that was stuck in his mind. You’re okay. We’re okay. The team is safe. I’m safe. You’re okay. We’re- He let his mind repeat these words; trying to convince his mind it was the truth. 

Lance passed that moment off as a one-time deal. Rationalizing that it was a stranger that touched him and if it was someone on the team he would have been okay. 

He told himself that, believing it was the truth until it was proven wrong. 

“Hey, I just wanted to say you did good today Lance,” Shiro walked beside him, placing his human hand on his upper back in a proud older brother moment. 

Lance stumbled forward, twisting himself around to face Shiro. “Thanks,” he quickly turn back down the hallway, heading straight for his room. As soon as the door closed behind him he allowed himself to break. 

He allowed the small sobs to escape his lips, the tears to streak his face, his body to curl into itself where he sat against his door. The heat from the explosion felt lively on his skin. He rationally knew Shiro didn’t burn him with anything but where his hand was placed felt like it was on fire. 

He could feel himself rocking where he sat, trying to tell himself he was okay, he was safe. But this time, his brain didn’t believe him. 

Lance was aware he needed help. He knew he should confine in someone, maybe Coran? But every time he scrounged up the courage to spill his guts to someone the alarms would blare and he would be rushing down to his lion. 

He felt like a walking corpse. The lack of sleep at night was starting to catch up to him. Causing little mistakes throughout his day. He slid into Hunk at training, nearly knocked Pidge’s computer over, he bumped directly into Shiro while they passed each other in the hall. 

He was slipping, he felt like a glass object teetering over the edge of a table. One wrong move and he would be shattered beyond repair. 

He did everything he could to keep himself from falling. He started to live by certain rules. 

1) No one, absolutely no one was allowed to touch his back in any capacity. No more hugs from Hunk, no more pats on the back, no contact at all. 

2) Always watch your back. Don’t let anyone or anything sneak up on you or a team member. 

3) Never let anyone behind you. Stand against the wall. Always bring up the end of the line. 

4) Be aware of your surroundings.

He memorized these rules, repeating them under his breath in the shower, while he was getting dressed, as he was crawling into bed. They were security in a sense. As long as he followed them, nothing bad would happen to him. 

He leaned against one of the walls in the training room, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His teammate did similar things. Pidge laying in the center of the room, Keith chugging a bottle of water, Hunk slumped down by the door, Shiro wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel.

To say Lance was exhausted was an understatement. He couldn't even remember the last time he properly slept.

Which is was caused him to forget rule #4.

"I think we're getting better at working together." Keith leaned against the wall by Lance, his eyes gazing over the training area.

Lance told himself to breathe, giving a small nod at the other boy.

Keith looked at him, "I'm really happy we put that rivalry behind us." Keith placed his hand on Lance's upper right back shoulder blade.

It was a friendly gesture, Lance knew that. There was no anger or hatred behind the action. Keith was simply being friendly. Being a good teammate.

Unfortunately, Lance's brain wasn't wired to see the situation like that anymore.

His body reacted before his rational mind could catch up. His left hand reached across his chest, grabbing Keith's wrist from where his hand was placed on his body. He yanked on it as soon as he had a strong enough grip and Keith went tumbling forward; slightly rolling over Lance's shoulder.

By the time Lance realized his fellow red paladin was on the ground the team was already making their way toward the two at their own paces.

He backed himself against the wall, his brain running a mile a minute. His breathing was labored and his vision began to swim; he was in pure panic mode.

Keith was being helped up by Shiro who was looking at Lance with confusion but preparedness; Lance didn't doubt that he would tackle him if he tried to attack another team member.

"Lance, just take it easy." Hunk held his hands out in front of him, almost as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Maybe that's what Lance looked like right now.

Others were talking, their voices melted together and Lance placed his hands over his ears, begging the sounds to stop. He could feel his head shaking as he tried to block the noise.

He looked at his team, and they all looked back with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," he looked towards the closet exit to him, "I need...I have to go." He wasn't sure how he managed to run out of the room without someone grabbing him but he thanked the universe for being able to escape.

He began snapping his armor off in the process, leaving it scattered in his room before stumbling into his bathroom. He borderline ripped his undershirt off his body, trying to stop the burn that was steadily consuming his skin.

He fumbled with the water in the shower, stepping into the freezing temperature, trying to ease the pain.

He could hear pounding on his door and his fingers tangled in his hair. You're okay, you're okay. Just breath. You're okay-

He wasn't sure how long he sat in the freezing water, he wasn't sure when the pounding stopped. When the burning feeling stopped and his body went numb he reached up and turned off the water; he wasn't sure when he slumped to the ground.

He sat in the shower a while longer, letting his body shake from the temperature. He knew he needed to warm up, he needed to pull his pants off his body and changed into something dry. Why was moving so hard right now?

Maybe he dozed off, he had to of since he jolted awake to his bedroom door opening. He glanced at his bathroom door, it was locked, but it wasn't hard to overrule the system.

"Go away, I don't want to talk yet." He hated how his voice wavered on his words, he was tired. So so tired.

"Lance? We don't have to talk, but may I come in?"

Lance closed his eyes, Coran always had a sense of comfort surrounding him. Lance always saw him as an uncle figure.

"Yeah."

The door slid open a couple of moments later, Coran giving him a sad smile. "Did you take a shower?"

Lance hugged his knees, still shivering, "something like that."

Coran nodded and left the room, returning quickly with his pajamas and a towel. "Get changed, I'll go get you some Pressed Cider!" He placed the clothing on the counter by the sink and disappeared.

Lance allowed his body to fall into autopilot and he quickly got changed, leaving his wet clothes in the bottom of the shower and he sat on his bed. His breathing still felt labored in a way, but his bed was safe. Nothing could hurt him here.

Coran reappeared later, two mugs in his hands and a blanket folded up under his arm. He handed the blue mug to his paladin and placed his black mug on the bedside dresser.

He unfolded the blanket and slowly wrapped his around Lance, taking a seat a couple of inches away from him.

"The team said you had a moment."

Lance took a small sip of his drink, focusing on the spice taste that covered his tongue. The temperature was slightly on the hot side, a great improvement from Coran's initial attempts of sharing this drink. Alteans used to put fire rocks in their drinks.

"Keith is okay if you were concerned about him."

Lance nodded.

"But it's nice to know your training is paying off number 3."

Lance gave him an obligatory smile and cast his eyes down at his cup.

"I'm all ears if you need to get something off your chest my boy."

Lance stared down into the dark orange liquid, Coran was with him that day. Maybe he had his own suffering from it. "Does that day ever bother you? The explosion on Arus."

Coran was quiet for a moment, something out of his character, but he eventually released a small sigh. "Yes...sometimes I feel as though I can't shake it. Does it haunt you?"

Lance gave a small nod, taking another sip of his drink. "I relive it every day. I know I'm okay but I sometimes feel like my skin is still being burned."

"Shiro said Keith touched your shoulder and that's when you...had your moment."

Lance appreciated his attempt to lessen the realistic damaged he actually caused to his team. "I didn't mean to."

"I didn't think you did. You're not someone who would attack your team member unless absolutely necessary."

"I don't like people touching my back. I have a list of rules." Coran gave him a questioning look and Lance quickly repeated his rules. "It's the only way I could keep myself going."

"Why didn't you tell one of us?" Coran didn't sound disappointed, but his voice was laced with sadness.

"I didn't want to burden anyone. You lost your family, your whole planet. Shiro was a prisoner for a year, Keith lost his parents, Pidge lost her family...I just had one thing happen to me."

"Lance," Coran placed a comforting hand on his knee, "don't let your mind convince you just because someone has it worst you can't struggle. That was a traumatizing day, sometimes when you run late for breakfast or back to the castle I worry you're gone. I feel as though the team feels the same."

Lance blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"The team isn't mad at you."

"Keith should be."

Coran shook his head, "he's not. They're just concerned."

"Oh."

"Tell you what. Let's finish our drinks and then we can talk to the team together. See what we can do to support you through this."

Lance dropped his head, "okay."

-----

Hmmmm love me some angst and a supportive team

Thank you!

I hope you like it <33

[lovinkiri]

Keep Your Head Up

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Eijirou Kirishima x Reader

Hanta Sero x Reader

Denki Kaminari x Reader

Tenya Iida x Reader

Description: After losing a loved one, this is how the boys would try cheering you up.

Warning: Loss of loved one, Cussing, etc.

Eijirou Kirishima

He just wants you to be happy again, but he knows it isn't that easy.

He's so physically affectionate, his comfort would include: Forehead kisses, cuddles/snuggles, hand holding, etc.

There's barely a moment he's not by your side, and when you eventually have to force him to go to work, he comes straight home. Only taking detours to pick up your favorite food.

He also tries cooking for you. He's quick to try out some recipes he found online. He firmly believes that good home-cooked meals can truly help a lot.

Does not fall asleep until you do because he wants to make sure if you're up at night, you aren't alone.

If you get messy around the house (which us fine, it happens), he's there to clean to his best abilities. He's not the best at cleaning but he tries.

Eijirou loves you so much, and he would do anything to see you smile.

Denki Kaminari

Denki panics a bit because he thinks he's horrible at consoling people. Especially when they lose someone dear to him.

He doesn't know what to do and one day, you're just having a really shitty day dealing with it.

He holds you and cuddles you but he doesn't think it's enough, and then you sniffle and he tells himself he has to do something.

That's when you hear him singing. It's off-key and his voice cracks a bit. It's not perfect, but it's sweet and it's quiet and calming.

He sings to you a lot after that, all different kinds of music. He'll even sing funny songs with silly lyrics, anything to get you to smile.

Is always at least holding your hand, intertwining your fingers.

He cannot cook so you guys order out a lot more often, and he insists that you guys get your favorite.

If things get messy, he'll try to keep it clean. Your place won't be dirty, no dirt or gunk. But there might just be stuff lying around.

Denki isn't exactly sure what he's doing, but I promise he does his best.

Tenya Iida

Tenya isn't the best at cheering people up, though he definitely isn't the worst.

When it comes to this type of thing, Tenya relies more on communication. So he let's you talk to him.

You can talk about the loved one who passed away, talk about you're feeling, and how you're coping. He'll listen.

And after you finish, he let's you know that despite how tough this is, he's right there by your side no matter what.

He tell your that you're his darling, and they anything you need, just say it.

And true to his word, he gets you absolutely anything you need. Whether it's snacks or just him.

If you can't be alone, he'll take off of work for you.

If you just need to hear his voice, he's calling.

Even if you just want to talk, hell take however much time out of his day to talk to you.

Tenya loves you so much, and he'll do anything to help you.

Katsuki Bakugou

He's honestly really worried. About a lot.

You're ready going through something hard, but Katsuki can be so rough that he's scared to make it worse.

But when he knows that you actually really want him with you, you can bet he tries his best to be a comfort to you.

Katsuki does not yell at you, at all. Anything he wants to say is said calmly.

He cooks for you, but unlike the others, he pushes you to join him in the kitchen. While the others will do all the work in an effort to spoil you, Katsuki wants you to be by his side.

Katsuki also loves cooking and usually does not let people cook with him, so this is new. He's trying to bond over an activity with you.

Katsuki will clean if the house gets messy, but only for so long. Afterwards, he will tell you that you have to clean. He's nice about it

"Listen, I know shit is rough right now, and you have every right to grieve. But it ain't healthy staying in a messy place like this. I'll help you clean, but you gotta try for me."

He doesn't wanna seem inconsiderate, he just wants you to be able to take care of yourself.

He's always one call away, so if you need him, he will let anyone know he needs at least an hour to tend to you.

Comes home and kisses the top of your head as soon as he has you in his arms.

Will make sure you're eating well and drinking water.

Katsuki thinks he's doing a horrible job, but he won't stop trying.

Hanta Sero

Hanta is the king of comfort.

He does absolutely anything and everything to put a smile on your face. And I do mean anything and everything.

Hanta makes your favorite comfort drink and watches your favorite movies with you.

He makes blanket forts with string lights and cuddles with you, your favorite comedy YouTuber playing on his laptop.

He cooks for you, pecking your cheek as he sets your food down.

And he always has a pack of tissues on him, just in case. Especially when you just need to talk and remembering gets you a bit emotional.

Will dry your tears before wrapping his arms around you and going "It's okay, take your time"

He won't force you to do something but he will suggest an activity for the two of you.

You will literally have to force him to work. He asks if you're sure about him going to work at least 10 times before he leaves.

Then he texts you the whole day saying that he can try taking the day off.

Ends up bring home a bouqet of flowers one day cause he feels bad for going to work.

To Hanta, you matter more than anything. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you, and it shows.

[deiliamedlini]

Link to Zelda (incarnation of your choice):

I have never been this sick/injured before, wow, so good to feel better. I'm sorry did I, haha this is so weird, but did I confess my love for you? Uh... f- four times? yeah? haha oh oops...

Alright! I went with Hylia/First Link on this one!

Also on Ao3 to read for ease!

Hylia knelt beside Link, brushing his hair from his face. He was pale, which only made sense with the fever he'd ended up with after a wound had failed to heal properly. Hylia, worried out of her mind, had never seen such a thing. Bodies that regulate temperature in order to fight off infections? Could they not just heal as she did? 

"Link, say something to me." 

"I love you."

Hylia fought the urge to roll her eyes. If he weren't serious, she might have. "That's not quite what I meant. Are you well?"

He groaned. "I've felt better."

"I don't know what to do? What do I do for you?" Her hands hovered over his arm, where it was red beneath wrapped bandages. "How does this go away?" 

Woozily, Link rolled his head into her. "It's fine. It'll heal." 

"It's not! It should be healed by now!" 

"I'm not a Goddess. I heal slowly." 

She pushed her long blonde hair back. "I am a Goddess. Give me your arm." 

He didn't hesitate. He never did with her. 

She grabbed it and began to glow, her warmth emanating off of her and onto his skin. The warmth was different than he'd been feeling, not the miserable spread of infection, but something comforting that he could wrap into. His wound began to burn, and he hissed. And then, the pain faded, replaced by a tingling sensation that went straight from his arm to his head. 

"Mmmmmmm," he mumbled as she let go, cradling his head back down. "That was... warm. You're warm. Hylia. Hylia. You're beautiful. You're so... so beautiful. I love you." 

Hylia bit her lip. He... didn't look or sound right. He looked asleep with his eyes open, barely clinging to consciousness. "Link? Was that too strong?" 

"I love you. I love you." 

She smiled this time, pushing hair from his eyes as he threw himself backwards. "Yes, I've gathered. I'm glad you've finally felt that you can return my sentiment. I--" 

"Hylia, you're warm." 

She clicked her tongue. "I do believe I used too much magic on you. It'll wear off." 

"So warm." 

"Yes, thank you, Link." 

He turned to look at his arm, eyes widening, mouth dropping. "I had a wound here!" 

"Oh dear." 

"It's gone!?" 

"Yes, Link. I healed you. I used too much magic. You're not going to feel yourself for a bit, but--" 

"I love you." 

Humming a laugh, she soothed her hand through his hair again and again. "Stop saying that, Link. I don't want you to wear it out on your tongue." 

"Will you tire of it?" 

"Not for all eternity. The entire span of my life could pass and I'd never tire of those words from you. I worry for yourself." 

"I couldn't... I'd never." 

"Shhhh, Link... sleep. Rest your body. When you wake, you'll be healed." 

"I love you, Hylia." 

"And I you, Link. Sleep." 

And when he woke, he felt rejuvenated, his entire body replenished and whole once more. All his energy renewed, all his wounds healed. 

His eyes blinked open, and he saw her shimmering blues staring down at him. To never need sleep... he wondered if she'd stared at him all night.

"Hylia..." 

"Hello, Link. Are you well?" 

"I am... what happened?" 

She smiled and kissed his forehead, her lips lingering. "You feel much more normal, less like a furnace. I imagine that's a good thing." 

"Yes. Did you care for me all night?" 

"To the best of my abilities. I did heal you, but I made the mistake of using too much magic. You were a bit... off." 

"What did I say?" 

"Some... things." 

He closed his eyes. "I have never felt so sick from an injury before. It's good to feel better, but you won't let me have peace. What did I say?" He threw an arm over his eyes as he thought, and Hylia waited. When he sat up straight in horror, she had her answer: he remembered. "Hylia! Did I... did I confess my love for you?" 

"You did, Link." 

"What? How did I forget? When did I...?"

"Well, you said it four times." 

"F-four times?" 

"Yes. Which would you like me to recount for you?" Her smile was wide and pure, but he could sense a hint of her teasing. 

"Heh... oops," he muttered. "I meant to say it while I wasn't completely delirious. Hylia... I love you." 

She kissed him, soft and sweet, tender and careful. "We can pretend that was the first time. It was just as sweet."