#daisy needs medical assistance

[the-daiz]

Sonic my beloved

[mamirhodessxox]

Okay hear me out.....

After Cody's titties injury he needed physical therapy, right? Right?

So......

Physical therapy intern who just finished school and started the real world experience is assigned to assist the Doctor who's helping Cody and this said Doctor often lets her do all the work so she can learn.....

She ends up bonding with him and maybe catching feelings and then you decided what to do.....i just wanted to spring the idea by you.🤭🫢🫣🫣

By the Beach

Cody Rhodes x Phsyical Therapy Intern Female!OC

(Alicia Sanchèz)

Desc: Cody had been in a recent injury within his pec but he refuses to tap out of his Hell in a Cell match so he does whatever Phsyical therapy he can do to be able to get medically cleared enough to participate in his match with the help of the new doctors assistant who’s learning a lot within the medical field

Contents: soft Dom & sub duo, Drinking, foul language, fluff, controversial relationship (Cody is 36 & Alicia is 23) pectoral injury, smut, praise kink, crybaby!oc, p in v action, brief cockwarming, public/beach sex (private property) That’s all for now.

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @mini-rollins @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @bones-rhodes @cococodysleevlesshoodie @edtomh @actuallydrew

Since I’m back from my break of writing it’s only in good taste that I return with one of my favorite request concepts sent by the amazing @alyyaanna

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Alicia had recently finished med school to work in the Phsyical Training medical field but for her to do that she needed training herself! So she was assigned to Dr. Stevens to be an assistant & also learn along the way, but when he mentioned she would be taking the reigns for this she didn’t expect the whole shabang.

She sat in her apartment just before heading out into the Georgia heat during the very end of may, Alicia did a once over in her uniform and quickly put her dark red hair into a short pony tail “I can just fix it later.” She mumbled in a quick tone before turning over to her newly adopted LeonBerger puppy & smiled down at her fluffy companion “I’m sorry daisy but this one you can’t come too.” She pat the pups head gently and grabbed her bag before she officially headed out.

The entire drive to the doctors office she’d be assisting/training at was miserable, humid & hot, Dr Stevens was on the phone for the first half of the drive to do a run over with her “This is a regular patient of mine, he’s gotten into a recent injury within his pec & we’re going to be focusing on physical therapy for him so far, surgery has been in the talks but after his big event, I’m gonna let you learn for a little bit and I’ll let you take over in the other half clear?” Alicia furrowed her facial expression within the heat before pulling into the parking lot “You got it Stevens. I won’t let you down I promise.” The call ended as she was getting out of the car & pranced her way into the office & was met with Dr. Stevens

“It’s nice to meet you in person Ms. Sanchèz, follow me the room please.” She smiled politely and shook his hand before making their way into the examination room & being faced with a blonde male “Mr Rhodes it’s good to see you again, I hope you don’t mind but my trainee will be helping me assist you through your check-ups & all of that good stuff how does that sound.” The man smiled kindly & looked over in her direction, Alicia smiled bad politely before shaking his hand “Alicia, Nice to meet you.” He nodded and shook her hand back “Nice to meet you Alicia, I’m Cody.” The young girl smiled politely before taking a seat in the corner of the room to observe the severity of his injury.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Rhodes, may I ask how you injured your pec?” Alicia questioned as Dr. Stevens handed her a clipboard and pen for her to jot down information, Cody cleared his throat awkwardly & nodded “I was working out in a gym & I kinda didn’t really stretch or prepare for anything since I assumed I could just get started right off the bat & I ended up tearing up my pec when I tried doing a bench press. It felt like velcro a little bit but it hurt like hell.” He explained while Dr Stevens had him take off his shirt to examine the injury but once Alicia laid her eyes on the purple, red, slight green & yellow bruising her eyes went a little wide “Oh my god?” Cody nodded his head and winced a little bit when Stevens had checked his blood pressure before coming down to the final decisions “Well, luckily you had stopped whatever it was you were doing before it could get any worse, surgery is recommended but depending on how well you do in Physical therapy you could get off from it for a little bit until after your next match, but there is still going to be hell of a lot pain.”

Cody nodded in an understanding form while focusing more on the young girl who stood in front of him thinking over what training would be best for him so far, Dr Stevens eventually set his clipboard next to Alicia “I’m gonna leave you to it, you’re smart so I trust you enough with him, be careful alright?” She smiled politely and nodded “Of course, He’s in good hands.” He eventually walked out of the room leaving the two in silence while she went over her & Stevens notes before smiling up at Cody “So for the first week I’m gonna have you practice some of this physical therapy at home with mini weights specifically on the arm where your pec injury is, I’m gonna give you this Thera-band too work on and I’ll see you in a week from now to see how your doing how’s that sound?” Cody grinned at her words while putting her shirt on “sounds good to me doll, and uhm…is there a way I could get your number? Y’know incase there’s an emergency and I may need your help if I can’t reach Dr. Stevens.”

Alicia smiled at him politely & nodded her head “Of course, I’ll write it down for you on a piece of paper before you head out alright?” He agreed on her offer as he grabbed the keys to his car from his back pocket & left happily within minutes knowing he got her number at the end of the appointment.

—

For weeks on end Cody & Alicia would talk over the phone while he did his assigned training on his arm, she gave him check ups and saw that he was getting better but noticed he would lie about his pain tolerance every now and then, it was a week before his match & they were both heading out of the doctors office when the millionth appointment had ended between the two, Cody stood in-front of his truck for a little bit while he gained the courage to ask her a question “Hey um- if you don’t have anything going on after this, I was planning on going paddle boarding for a bit at the beach, you can tag along if you want it’s right in-front of my house & I can send you the address”

Alicia’s lips curled into a smile before leaning into her car “are you asking me out to a date?” He laughed at her words & shrugged his shoulders “Maybe, maybe not, but I have a thought that you’re not gonna say no so..I’ll text you the address.” She winked in his direction before getting in her car & driving off to her apartment where she would be packing a small beach bag she wore a swimsuit under her sundress before crouching down to her pups level “you gonna be good daisy?” She hyped up the puppy as Daisy barked playfully and tugged on the hems of her dress with her teeth trying to play “not right now baby, I gotta go!” She picked up her pup & setting her back in her little bed before going back down to the car as Alicia pulled up the address & began heading towards that direction of town.

—

Cody sat on his porch inflating the two paddle boards & carrying out the cooler towards the beach since it was quite literally in front of his home until he heard tires slowly push against the gravel before realizing it was Alice, She got out of the car snatching off her sunglasses before prancing in his direction “I hope you don’t mind but I brought some drinks, wine? Alice held up her bag showing the bottle that peeked out of her bag a bit “anything you bring is as welcomed here as you are. The beach is literally down there why don’t you go ahead and wait for me?” He pat her lower back as Alicia smiled and walked down towards their hang out spot near the water while he continued pumping air into the boards.

—

After a solid few minutes he carried them both down & finally sat next to her “what do you think so far?” He questioned before pouring a glass of wine into the two clear cups he brought down with him and gave her one “The sunsets nice, i bet the water is relaxing.” He smiled at her opinions & took a sip of his wine “Glad you think so, c’mon why don’t I get out on one of those boards?” She laughed to herself as she shook her head “Oh god no, I wouldn’t be able to do it by myself.” Cody chuckled as he grabbed her hand and taking her to the paddle boards making Alicia sigh out and take off her sundress to fully be in her swimsuit. “I’ll even stay on one with you alright? I got you.” He chuckled as she hesitantly sat on the board in front of him before he made her learn how to use the paddle sticks. She sat crisscrossed in her swimsuit while his hands rested subtly around the curvature of her waist “you’re doing great for your first time.” She smiled as she dipped the stick back & forth into the water of the lake “yeah?” He nodded and rested his chin against her shoulder before making her set down the paddle stick & turning her head to look at him “Hi.” She mumbled while he admired her beauty & carefully turning her around to completely face him “Hi.” He repeated her words in a short mumble before locking his lips against her pink plush ones & holding onto him, she sighed into the kiss before slipping her tongue past his lips while her hands tugged on his hair a little bit before pulling away and paddling their way back to the sand.

For the remainder of the night they both sat on shore staring a towel & a bottle of wine “Can i tell you something?” Cody asked while handing the bottle over to Alicia “I don’t see why not” she smiled as he took a deep breath “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen Ali, I mean it, I’m so fucking in love with you.” He stared at her nervously before he processed the fact her hands were already up to his face as she inched closer, the moment was so sweet & intimate, two people who’ve craved each other since the day they met. Cody wrapped his arms around her before rolling her onto her back against towels that laid above the sand “Cody..” Alicia whined softly as her nails dug into his hair as his hand reached inbetween her thighs & laid flat against her bikini bottoms while resting his head against hers taking many breaths, her hands ran up the sides of his torso while her head was already nodding “I need you so bad Cody..” she whispered out while he smiled & untied her bikini top before taking her breasts into his hands while grinding himself against her “so damn perfect…” he breathed out as she bit his lip gently.

Cody was usually the type of guy. too at least tease a woman before giving her what she wants, but he was too impatient for Alicia, it was a craving, a need, and he knew she felt the same about him, the pair just needed each other to be as close as can be, connected like two peas in a pod. All he wanted was her & all she wanted was him. So it was no surprise that once the two were undressed & Cody eased himself inside of her he was a mess, her nails digging into his back while he nuzzled her face into the crook of her neck, he was completely bottomed out in between her legs, being inside of her was like a spell being casted upon him.

His thrusts were slow, gentle, each time he pressed his hips right up against Alicia’s she’d let out a soft cry & roll her head back as she became a moaning mess herself. The tip of his cock basically kissing her sweet spot & causing her legs to spasm around Cody’s waist “I got you baby..t-taking me so fucking good.” He moaned into her ear as his hand slipped in between their bodies allowing his thumb to toy with her clit as she scratched up his arms “fa-ahh-faster baby p-please” Alicia begged with a tear drop as big as a pearl rolling down her cheek before Cody made her pleas come true as he started drilling his cock in & out of her her mouth locked with his while he swiped his tongue over her lips & groaning lowly “taking me so fucking good baby o-oh my god.” He held the side of her face in his hand, even though he was a bit occupied with fucking her absolute brains out his need for her became irresistible, he admired every detail on her body & face, the way her eyebrows furrowed with each moan, her eyes either shut from pure overstimulation or rolled back, the way her hair was laid perfectly out on the towel, her nails running across his skin, the way she cried out anytime he was barely pulled away from her, He adored her, he would get down on his knees & kiss the very ground she stepped on if he could right now, his chest pressed against hers as she’d cling to him like a koala. Tears streamed down her face for a whole other reason than pleasure & he could sense it hence him putting any movement to a stop while he held her close.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Talk to me beautiful” he breathed out while sitting up & pulling her onto his lap about to pull out until she stopped him & cockwarmed him instead “j-just need you closer to me..” Alicia whimpered and ground herself against him tearing up causing Cody to smile sweetly and kiss away any of her tears “Baby I’m as close to you as I can be, why don’t we take a breather really quick okay? You’re all worked up sweet girl.” He assured her in an amused expression while his hands explored her hair, who knew she was this emotional when it came to intimacy.

Alicia clung too him as she kept her face rested onto his shoulder while he scattered kisses all over her neck & shoulders completely devoting himself to her. He readjusted their current sitting position until he let out a slight moan & rolled his head back completely forgetting that he was deep inside of her. Cody gave up being patient & rolled her over onto her stomach against the towels that laid beneath them before pulling her hips upwards while trailing kisses up & down her back, his hand dipped back in between her thighs as he kept toying around with her clit before carefully easing himself back inside of her pussy & thrusting into her at a steady pace “fff-fucckk baby!” Alicia cried out & held onto his wrist that rested against the flesh of her thigh “c’mon beautiful I know, I know y’just feel so fucking good right now don’t you gorgeous” he mumbled words into her ears that he knew would drive her insane at the moment as she nodded vigorously

“g-gonna cum- Cody- fuck!” He chuckled as her mouth spewed a bunch of babbles & whines as her brain completely became foggy & fucked out, despite being outside the air felt thick & hot even when the subset was at it’s lowest, Alicia was all flushed & disheveled as much as Cody was, her hands clutching onto either the towels or grabbing at him as he fucked her from behind, his & hers breath hitching with want & desire, Cody buried himself inside of her as deep as he possibly could while his hands greedily groped at her ass while dipping himself down & pressing his chest against her back, Alicia lifting her head up & looking back at him “Y-You’re so perfect” he moaned against her shoulder tiredly before gently tugging on her hair “Cum with me, please baby I’m begging you” she cried out for him & felt his head nod with approval while his hips rolled into her ass as the pair came together, Cody not pulling out by accident but once he did & laid down breathing heavily while she rested beside him, the silence was thick, neither of them knew what to say, until of course Alicia grew the courage to say something “I’m uh- I’m on the pill by the way..” Cody chuckled tiredly before sitting up & putting his clothes back on before getting her cleaned up & at least back into her sundress “Good to know beautiful.” Alicia smiled over at him & stared at his still bruised pec injury, he was insufferable when it came to this injury, “Are you still doing it?” She questioned while he looked away from the stars & the night sky “I’m dedicated too this sweetheart, it just scratches my brain the right way knowing that I could still have a chance of winning & knowing that this thing” he pointed at his bruised chest “isn’t going too hold me back from anything.” She smiled at his dedication & nodded her head before pulling him into a kiss

They weren’t fully aware of what to do from now on after this night but they did know they were willing to make something more bloom out of it, Cody fully believed that Alicia was meant to be the love of his life for many reasons, she was scared of committing to something that was so foreign too her after years but she saw his willingness to make her finally his & that was all that mattered, whether they liked it or not they were still connected & damn close to being tethered to each other.

manirhidessxox’s Masterlist

[coupsie-daisies]

Power Over Me - Part 1 | Jeong Yunho & Kim Hongjoong

Pairing(s): Werewolf!Jeong Yunho x Witch!OC x Werewolf!Kim Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong x Park Seonghwa, Jeong Yunho x Song Mingi

Genre: Smut (18+ ONLY), Urban Fantasy, College AU, Enemies to Lovers, Childhood Sweethearts, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The sheer existence of Yunho's best friend, the person he imprinted on nearly a decade prior, near his pack sets Hongjoong on edge, and things go to absolute shit when everyone finds out why. Yet another thing that Blue has to fix, just like they always do.

Word Count: 25k

Warnings: Cussing, everyone in the pack is poly, unprotected sex, choking (technically nonsexual), excessive talk of scents, mentions of Knotting, mild infidelity, Yunho has a tragic backstory, angst (especially at the end of this chapter), voyeurism, I know I missed something so please let me know!!

Power Over Me Playlist

Power Over Me Pinterest Board

A/N: This is my piece for the Clownracha summer 2024 fic exchange. It's written for my beloved @ferrethyun, I hope you love it babe!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @brownieracha // @decaffedthoughts

Masterlist This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any platform is prohibited

Magic was, in its best state, a finicky thing. It relies entirely on a competent user to carry out its task, needing to be guided and shaped lest it break free and wreak havoc. Under a skilled, watchful eye, however, magic was a cure for just about anything. Magic is as old as the universe itself, and as time passes, the training of magic users and beings infused with its essence became essential to the growth of the world.

Those with the ability to manipulate magic were abundant in the world. It became common for them to rise to power or notability in many roles. Witches were in high demand as medics, teachers, mentors for those who knew less about the way the world worked. The water spirits and those that lived in the water worlds were vital to the growth of trade and travel. The Fae were consulted for matters beyond what the eye could see, and creatures of the night were revered for their power. As time went on, as the world grew and magic flourished along with it, the two became very intricately intertwined. So, naturally, the University of United Magic grew too.

The University started small, a coven of witches cooped up in a house where their elders taught others the trade, the tricks, and the sacred secrets of the past. Eventually, though, the University matured into a whole sprawling campus akin to any large college. All sorts of magic were taught within the looming buildings, and the lush nature that surrounded everything was healthier than anything touched by man's bare hands before.

Among the growing student body was one of the brightest witches on the continent, the child of two of the oldest, largest bloodlines in the history of magic. Of course, they had no intention of letting that go to their head. The rest of the student body, however, seemed to keep it fresh in their mind. People were never surprised when they came out top of their class yet again, or when they won another certificate or award of excellence. They simply understood magic in a way that other people couldn't begin to comprehend, forming it into something never before seen and harnessing it with the same level of care taken when handling a wild animal. It came more naturally to them than anything else.

Which, perhaps, was why they so rarely left their room beside for their classes, too busy experimenting with their newest brews or enchantment combinations. They were always seeking ways to grow their practice, if for no reason other than fucking around and finding out. Still, to say that they had privacy was a bit of a stretch. Not only were people regularly seeking their assistance with issues that basic magic couldn't begin to touch, but more often than not there was one particular werewolf stretched out on their bed, watching them work with a quiet, satisfied adoration.

"Must you stare at me when I'm working?" Blue deadpanned, looking over their shoulder for a moment before turning back to the swirling, shimmering liquid trapped in the beaker on their desk.

"I'm not staring! I'm just...watching. Like a normal person." Yunho answered casually. He sat up, long legs folding on the bed. He was, in fact, staring. But it was hard to blame him what with the way that he enjoyed magic. As a turned werewolf with no magical heritage, there wasn't much magic that he could practice himself. He had really only applied to the University to learn to brew his own remedies for his condition -- his rut suppressants and potions for the pain and whatnot. Not to mention that a degree in Magical Literature could come in handy in the future. But, most of all, Blue had applied to the University, and if there was one thing that had never changed about Jeong Yunho it was his dedication to following Blue around like a lost puppy. He'd been doing it since they were just little kids.

"Right, definitely normal. Can you pass me that bottle there? The lavender concentrate?" And like the obedient dog that he was, Yunho jumped up to pass the dropper bottle over to them. He stayed there, watching as they carefully dripped three perfect beads of the liquid into the mixture. It hissed, and bubbled, and turned a vicious shade of red before settling. It let off a subtle aroma of wood smoke and something sort of sweet. Blue seemed satisfied with this, wafting the steam towards them before carefully pouring it into a bottle and stoppering it. 

"What's that one for?" Yunho asked, picking up the bottle and turning it back and forth in his hands. Blue grabbed one of the sticker labels that was laying on their desk and scrawled a name onto it.

"It's a fuel substitute for fire demons. For Juyeon from our History of Enchantments class last semester. He's been having trouble with his current fuel, so this should help him until he can get it sorted out." They got up, taking the bottle from Yunho, labeling it, and tucking it into their bag.

They were always doing things like this, working tirelessly to help others in new and creative ways and expecting nothing in return. Yunho admired that. They said it was their duty to the world, to do what they could for those who couldn't. They'd been studying magic since they were little, learning under their grandmother and picking up tricks from covens all over the world. Blue's grandmother was one of the most powerful witches in the entire country, and most importantly, she was a wonderful woman. Yunho remembered that very well from their childhood, from the day he'd met her and Blue so many years prior.

The day Yunho met Blue was a blur in his mind. He'd lost a lot of blood, and the therapists said that trauma could make his memories disjointed on top of it. But he remembered the fresh linens hanging outside, the way that the breeze carried the scent, and how it was so strong in that moment.

He wasn't sure how the old woman had found him, or how she'd been strong enough to get him back to her cottage all by herself. He didn't remember how long the walk had been from the forest to the front door, but surely it had been a lot of work. But he did remember how she'd laid him carefully on a blanket on the workbench, the way that the pain had seared through him, and how he'd cried. It wasn't the violent, heavy sort of crying - he didn't have the energy for that - but it had felt like it to him. Every heaved breath ripped through his body like the claws that had put him in this state in the first place.

Grandmother recognized his condition easily as she worked her magic to heal him, stitching his wounds back together with her gentle chanting. This room, Yunho remembered, looked very much like what he'd imagined a witch's home to look like. There were dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, and sigils painted on the door frame, and the shelves and cupboards that lined the walls were full of jars and bottles of things he didn't know about, all labeled and neatly organized.

And then there was Blue. They were so small and unassuming as they stood against the wall, far enough out of the way that their grandmother could work but not so far that they couldn't examine what was being done to him. Yunho remembered their eyes; wide, and curious, but so very calm in the face of all the blood and pain.

Grandmother hurried around the room, speaking as she gathered her ingredients -- maybe to herself, or maybe to her grandchild who was certainly listening intently. She measured everything carefully into a bowl, beginning to grind everything together and chanting something over it, a language Yunho didn't recognize. He was cold, but it was so late in the summer, and that would have worried him if he wasn't so preoccupied by how sleepy he was getting. His eyes were growing heavier by the second, and every breath was beginning to feel like an uphill battle. Was he shivering? His mom had his jacket in case the night got cold on the way home, he wondered why she didn't put it on him before he left. Or maybe she'd just brought it with her...wherever she was now.

"Stay with us, now. Just a little longer." Grandmother soothed, her voice gentle and worn like the leather bracelets that Yunho admired when he went into town. He liked those, and he liked her voice too. "Bluebell, now."

Bluebell. The word repeated in his mind as he watched the child across the room jump into action. It sounded so pretty the way it rang in his ears.

"Bluebell," He repeated, he wasn't sure why, and it was so quiet that he could barely hear it. Then they looked at him with those eyes again. Maybe that was their name, it would be very well suited to them, he decided, so pretty. They were very pretty too. But not like flowers, he thought, like the rocks along the edge of the stream. Different, not so delicate and fragile as the flowers, special, something that he wanted to hold onto.

They passed something to their grandmother, a small jar of ground ingredients that she sprinkled into the discolored mush in her bowl. Then she mixed some more, asking for more jars and adding them to her odd mixture before moving closer to him.

"This might hurt," Bluebell said quietly. "You can hold my hand if you want to."

They offered their little hand to them, and Yunho took it in his. They must have been near the same age, but he was already big for his age. His parents said he'd be taller than his dad if he kept growing like this. He thought he'd like that a lot, being tall was very important to him at eight years old. He reached for their hand, holding it in his weakly on the table.

Blue watched on, caring eyes scanning his face for discomfort when Grandmother began applying the poultice to his wounds. He was weak, and tired, but even so he hissed at the burn and tried to squirm himself away, but he couldn't make it very far in his condition anyway. Grandmother shushed him, but not in the mean way that most adults shushed him, it sounded more like a comfort.

"Will he be okay?" Blue asked. Yunho's eyes were squeezed shut, and he gripped their hand a little tighter when they tried to pull it away. They didn't try to move again afterwards.

"He'll be alright. I'll wrap his wounds up and we'll let him rest for a while. I imagine he must be very tired now." Grandmother said. Yunho heard her begin to move around, cleaning up the messes she'd made. A hand stroked his hair, now damp with sweat and maybe a little bit of blood. "We'll get him cleaned up and fed when he wakes up. But for now, I think we best leave him alone."

"I don't want to leave him alone. Can I stay until it's time to eat?" Blue asked. It wouldn't really matter anymore, Yunho was already fast asleep on the bench, his hand relaxing in theirs. But their grandmother nodded anyway, a smile on her face. She was sure that Yunho would recover just fine with Bluebell at his side.

"You're, like, a really good person," Yunho said, settling back onto his friend's bed. Blue rolled their eyes. This was something that Yunho felt the need to tell them often. And, sure, it was nice being praised, but Blue didn't do this sort of thing for the praise or the gratitude. If anything, they did it because they felt obligated to. See, very few witches understood the intricacies of magic the way that they could. That meant that it was their responsibility to help how they could, to teach what they discovered, the things that they learned. Which was also part of why they always had tutoring slots open -- not that they really wanted to be teaching people who were most interested in cheating off their work. But Blue did it all, most importantly in their opinion, because they loved magic.

"Can you stop with that?" They said, pulling out a notebook that they'd filled with their goals for the week and scratching off a bullet point. "You praise me too much."

Yunho shrugged.

"I'm serious, though! You know that. I know a lot of people who wouldn't try half as hard as you do even if they were getting something out of it."

Blue was about to argue back when a knock sounded at their door. It was a sound that they sometimes dreaded, but this time they were relieved to have someone intervene and cut Yunho's rants short. They jumped up from their chair, stepping over Yunho's bookbag on the floor and opening the bedroom door.

"Hyung," Yunho said, surprise evident in his voice as he perked up from the other side of the room.

"What brings you here?" Blue asked, stepping aside to let the older man inside. Seonghwa looked breathtaking as he always did, maybe a side effect of being an Incubus, or maybe just sheer luck. He brushed his hand through his dark, wavy hair, looking between Yunho and Blue.

There weren't many things that weren't shared in Yunho's pack, very few secrets existed between the boys, so Blue knew it must be fairly severe for Seonghwa to be hesitating in front of the werewolf.

"Do you need to talk to me in private?" Blue asked. They didn't notice the way that Yunho started to sulk before the other man even got a chance to answer. He wasn't obsessed with Blue. They were, however, attached at the hip and had been for so long that most people found it unnatural being around only one of them or the other outside of classes. Everyone knew they were a package deal. If you wanted Blue, you could count on having to deal with Yunho. So Seonghwa shook his head.

"No, it's fine." He answered, making himself comfortable in the plush armchair pushed into the corner of Blue's dorm. The witch nodded, sitting back down at their desk. "I really hate to do this, I know you're always busy, but I think I might need your help Y/N."

They flipped to a new page in their notebook, already writing Seongwha's name at the top before looking back to him.

"What can I do for you?" They asked. To anyone else, it might have seemed clinical, but the upward tilt at the corner of their lips spoke volumes to their friends.

"I need a...I need something to help me not need to...feed so often." He explained, a pretty flush creeping up his neck as his dark eyes flickered to Yunho. Yunho choked on a flustered cough, dropping his gaze to his hands which were suddenly busying themselves with one of the plushies on Blue's bed. Blue, however, wasn't bothered in the least.

"And has the need been getting stronger lately?" They asked, jotting down a quick note on the page. "Or has this always been a problem for you? Not being able to have enough sex to satiate your hunger?"

It was clear that their lack of discomfort around the topic helped Seonghwa relax, an easy smile starting to creep onto his face.

"It's not been a problem before, not since I was a lot younger. But I'm reaching the peak maturity of a sex demon, it's about time for my hunger to peak, isn't it?" He pointed out. Blue nodded. "It wouldn't be a problem, but I'm too busy to be meeting the need. I just wanted to...improve my quality of life, I guess."

Blue gave another understanding hum, not that they had any experience with an Incubus' need for sex first hand, but they'd read about it plenty. Of course they had. Besides, they'd known Seonghwa since he'd met Yunho back when the two started at the University.

"Have you tried heat suppressants? That's what the nurses recommend, right?" It wasn't exactly the same, but it was supposed to have a similar effect.

"Yeah, I tried, but it didn't help. Just made me feel weird. Hongjoong said they made me smell weird." His nose crinkled at the idea of smelling bad. Blue laughed.

"So Hongjoong doesn't mind you trying to dial your sex drive back? I figured he'd be jumping at the opportunity to sleep with you more." They half scoffed. Hongjoong was a werewolf like Yunho, the leader of the pack. He'd first met Seonghwa during his rut and practically drove the rest of the pack members out of the dorm for a few days.

It made sense, really, for a hungry sex demon to be drawn to someone who couldn't be satiated. A match made in heaven, especially since they bonded not long after. As much as Blue didn't get along with Hongjoong, they made a good couple.

"With his extra class this semester he doesn't have time to keep up with me either." Seonghwa admitted. The two of them had an oddly competitive relationship, Blue chalked that up to Hongjoong being the overly intense, proud bastard that he was.

"Right, so heat suppressants are a no go, have you tried lust potions?" A dumb question considering he wouldn't be here if he hadn't already jumped through all the hoops already, but they had to ask anyway. Seonghwa nodded. "Alright, I'll try to figure something out. Just give me a bit of time. Yunho, library trip?"

The library was a place that both Blue and Yunho frequented, generally together, and generally tucked into the same study room they were in now. It was easier for them to work together behind locked doors where they couldn't be bothered or bother anyone else. There was a precarious stack of books sitting to Blue's left, and a handful more flipped open and spread out on the table. Their notebook was laid in front of them while Yunho slumped back in his chair, spinning his pen around his long fingers.

"So, what's the problem again?" He asked. Blue sighed, rubbing the bridge of their nose before turning back to the books.

"Incubi need sex to live. It feeds them, keeps their souls burning and tied to their bodies. Seonghwa is trying to find a way to obtain the energy he needs without actually having to have sex." They said, drumming their pen against the paper with a dull tap, tap, tap.

"Right. And that's difficult why exactly?"

"Well, if the heat suppressants didn't work, it means that he doesn't need to suppress the need to feed. He needs a supplement. Kinda like....a vitamin." They sat up straighter, pulling one of the books closer to them and flipping through a few pages. "But I'm not sure how to make a supplement for sex. Or if it's even possible."

Yunho took one of the books off the stack, a thick, heavy one on all sorts of advanced potions that he hadn't even begun to study yet. He traced a finger down the index page.

"If anyone can figure it out, it's you. What about a modified aphrodisiac potion?"

"Aphrodisiacs are known to stimulate Incubi hunger. It'll make it worse." They dismissed the idea.

"What if you, like, reversed the effects or something? Like you did for that one project last year."

Blue shook their head again. This did this often, posed a problem to Yunho and let him throw darts. He always missed, never really coming up with a helpful solution, but it did push Blue to think outside of the box, seeking ideas that they couldn't find on their own. And as far as Yunho was concerned, helping them by being incompetent about magic was still helping them and it still did wonders for his ego.

"There's ingredients that wouldn't work properly together. It could cause a lot of problems. I don't think I should be taking that risk unless we really can't figure out something better suited." They picked up a different book, beginning to flip through it.

"I was thinking maybe there's some sort of preexisting magic that we could...I don't know, harness, I guess? Concentrate and manipulate and use as ingredients. It might be difficult, but I don't think that simple ingredients are gonna cut it."

Blue slumped back in their chair, bringing the book closer to their face and scrunching up their nose as they tried to think. It was a habit that they'd had since they were just little, their entire face growing tight when they worked on something hard. It made Yunho want to reach out and smooth away the wrinkles, tell them to relax, remind them that they were downright brilliant and would get there if they just gave themselves time.

"Okay, what kind of magic do you think could help? I don't imagine nature magic could be of much use." He said, doodling on the cover of his own notebook.

"Maybe some sort of love or illusion magic. If I can concentrate that, pour it into a mix sort of like the fuel potion I made, it could act as a substitute for the type of energy they get from sex. Maybe a siren might be able to help? But I don't think there's a way to make that physical." They looked around, scanning the titles of the books they'd been tossing around carelessly. "Have you seen my book on-"

"Sirens and merpeople?" Yunho carefully shifted the books on the table until he could hand them the volume they were looking for. Blue thanked him in a barely there voice, flipping to a chapter about Siren magic. It had always fascinated them, it didn't work the way that most illusion magic did. It was like a spell cast by the Siren's bodies themselves. Nobody had been able to harness it, which led to a whole revolution some hundreds of years ago after a handful of revolts by Sirens in unjust magical study environments, a very nasty thing with lots of losses on both sides, though the Sirens had won their rights and their respect from it. So, all things considered, Blue really didn't expect to be the magical researcher to figure that one out, at least not at such a young age.

"Maybe a Cupid?" Yunho asked. It was an offhanded comment as he picked at a callous on his hand, but the lack of a response caught his attention. He watched with wide eyes as Blue's grin grew.

"Yunho, you might just be a genius." They said. "I'll need to talk to some people, see if they might be willing to transfer a couple samples to me. I haven't worked hands on with Cupid magic before, it's real unpredictable stuff. Hence all the stories and whatnot. They get their names from a truly tragic story, but you know all that already."

"Maybe Mingi can help. He should be back from visiting home soon." Yunho was still beaming from the praise, chest warm.

Yunho's relationship with Mingi was...complicated. They weren't boyfriends, not technically, and it was hard to say if either of them were properly in love with each other, but there was an unrivaled sort of affection there. They were happy when they were together, and they brought out the best in each other. So they were together often, not to mention they shared a room at the pack dorm. Most of the relationships between the pack were like that, hard to define and transcending the typical rules of friendship. They were based on the innate feeling that came from being together. Blue admired that, or maybe they craved that. It was sort of like how they were with Yunho after all the years together.

"Perfect. You'll let me know as soon as he's back, right?" Blue questioned, still flipping through their books. After all, it never hurt to have a backup plan, and a backup backup plan. So on and so forth, they were nothing if not prepared. Yunho just nodded quietly as if it were a dumb question to ask him.

As they continued reading up on all sorts of different magic that may or may not be an effective sex substitute, Blue found their will to stay awake dwindling. Their eyes were heavy, and a glance at the time told them that it was significantly later than they'd realized. It was a few more hours of groggy studying before their head dipped onto their arm, cheek squished against their forearm and eyes shut tight.

Yunho looked up from the essay he was working on about some book published about sixty years before he was born, a fond smile growing on his lips. This was another constant, almost as regular as their library study sessions. Blue was comfortable around Yunho in a way that they weren't with nearly anyone else. They let their guard down enough to find peace with him, to fall into rest even when they weren't trying to. Yunho never said anything about it, lord knows they needed the sleep.

So the two of them stayed put for a while longer, Yunho working on his project and Blue drooling just a little onto their arm. After another hour or so of them not stirring even a little bit, Yunho began to worry about them waking up stiff. So he packed up his things, and cleaned up as many of the books around them as he could without disturbing Blue's nap. Finally, once almost everything was put away, he shook them awake lightly. It took a couple of tries to get them to fully blink their eyes open, squinting up against the fluorescent lights.

"Morning, sleeping beauty." He teased, reaching to brush their hair back into place while they rubbed their eyes. It damn near made his heart ache seeing them like this. It always reminded him of when they were little kids and he'd stop by their house to pick them up on the walk to school. "Do you wanna go back to yours or stay at my place for the night?"

With Mingi gone, there was nobody sharing his room back at the Pack's dorm so, like he generally did, he invited Blue to stay the night. It was closer anyway.

"We can go back to my dorm. Don't wanna bother the pack."

They both knew what that really meant; They didn't want to see Hongjoong in the morning. Despite Blue having a close relationship with everyone in the back, and Hongjoong being in charge, the two of them could never seem to get along. Blue had really tried at first, it was important for Yunho to have a pack and they'd never want to stand in the way of that. Still, no matter how much Yunho played the buffer, the two just couldn't be around each other. So he didn't argue, just stood up and shrugged.

"I'll go put these books on the return cart. Meet you out there, okay?" He easily scooped up the stack of books from the table, piled concerningly high, and managed to nudge the door open.

Blue moved slowly, their body weighed down with grogginess and their brain refusing to focus. Their mind was fogged over with sleep and the fading warmth that hung around with it. But soon enough all of their things were neatly organized in their bag and they found Yunho waiting right where he said he would.

The walk back to Blue's apartment was short, but it was taking longer with them dragging their feet. Yunho silently arranged his backpack to sit against the front of him, crouching down to pick Blue up on his back. Normally they argued, but they never said no to a piggy back ride. This time they didn't even speak as they climbed onto his back and let him take their weight.

Winter was just around the corner, and the late fall air bit at their cheeks and their fingertips. Blue hated the cold, but luckily Yunho played personal space heater, more than happy to hold them close and warm their cold hands in his own.

When they got back, it was late enough into the night that all of Blue's own roommates were asleep besides Yeji, but her nocturnal nature always kept her up more often than she would have liked. But even she was tucked into her room for the night when the door code chimed them in. It was easy for the two to move in unison, taking their shoes off and making for Blue's bedroom. Yunho continued inside, finding clothes in the dresser drawer devoted to him while Blue detoured to the bathroom.

Nights like this were easy, space shared in comfortable silence as they both got ready to sleep. They worked around each other like a well oiled machine, Blue washing their face while Yunho brushed his teeth next to them, taking turns getting changed. Impromptu sleepovers were almost over-practiced. So as Yunho climbed into Blue's bed, taking his side by the wall and waiting for them to finish up, he didn't feel anything less than at home surrounded by the scent of them. Blackberry and vanilla and warm musk cutting the sweetness surrounded him, as it should be in his mind. It was his favorite scent, a vast ocean of Blue that he set himself afloat in, washed away in the calm waves.

When Blue finally came back, they were wrapped in one of Yunho's shirts, face glowy from being freshly washed and eyelids growing heavy with sleep again. They climbed into the bed next to him, and even in his half asleep state, Yunho welcomed them into his arms. He nuzzled his nose against their hair once they'd gotten comfortable. Blue's presence calmed him down from even the worst moods. They smelled like home, and Blue was the closest thing to home that Yunho had anyways.

"Go to sleep," They mumbled, almost as if they could sense the way his mind was sinking dangerously into memories of the past. Thinking about his childhood had a habit of keeping Yunho awake at night more often than he cared to admit, but Blue could read him like a book. They saw through him when he'd act like he got enough sleep, or when he'd wake up beside them and insist it wasn't because of a nightmare.

"I will. You first," He said. And generally they would argue, they always did with their endlessly caring nature, but they couldn't find the energy to argue this time. They closed their eyes, relaxing next to him.

Yunho laid there for a while, idly stroking Blue's arm until he was sure they'd fallen asleep next to him. Then he was alone with his thoughts, a dangerous pastime. When he was alone with his thoughts, the guilt started to set in all over again. There was a familiar feeling of missing what could have been so badly that it ached settling into his bones, and for a moment it was like he couldn't breathe at all with how heavy it sat on his chest.

The first time that Blue slept beside Yunho was nearly a year after they first met. It was late evening, and he'd been laying in his room at their grandmother's house since morning. He'd gotten much more used to the moons, but sometimes it still brought out a side of him that he was afraid of, a side of him that reminded him on the night he'd lost everything. His home, his family, his humanity.

That was the thought that made him curl in on himself, tears running down his face. He was old enough now that it felt embarrassing to cry like this, so desperately. Nevertheless, the sobs shook his body and his tears stained the pillow under his head. His entire body was still aching from the transformation even after he took the tonic he'd been given.

He'd known Blue was there when he came, but he was too ashamed to face them, too exhausted. He felt like a monster all over again, he shouldn't be trusted to be near anyone, let alone someone who wouldn't hurt a fly. He shivered in the bed then, the only light shining in was from the waning moon through the window, casting the room in an eerie, silvery glow that sent a shock of terror through Yunho's body.

He heard the door creak open, and he buried himself even deeper beneath the worn blanket. He could smell them, the familiar scent signaling the identity of his visitor. He wasn't used to that still, how intense all of his senses were now. It had given him migraines for several months until he adjusted to it. Grandmother said that they'd fade with time. He hadn't had anyone else to ask, so he'd just had to grit his teeth and trust her.

"Yun?" Blue whispered, closing the door behind them and tiptoeing closer to his bedside. "I brought your medicine. You should take it if you're awake."

They sat at the end of the bed, tentatively reaching out to touch his leg, checking to see if he was awake. He jumped nearly out of the bed at the touch. His eyes were so big and round and filled with a terror that made Blue pout.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry." They held out the vial like a peace offering. Yunho took it with shaky hands.

"You should go," He said, fumbling with the cork in the vial. Blue reached out, touching his hand gently to move it aside and opening the vial for him. He drank the liquid, wincing at the bitterness coating his throat. "It's not safe with me."

Blue furrowed their brow, taking the vial from him and setting it on the table by the bed.

"My grandmother wouldn't let you stay here if you were dangerous," They said, voice entirely matter-of-fact. "Besides, you're just a kid. You can't be so dangerous."

"I'm a werewolf," He argued.

"Yeah, but you're a boy too. And your transformation won't happen again for a month. So I don't think you're very dangerous as just a boy." They poked at his arm as if testing to see if he was stronger than they thought. He was, but they didn't mention anything about that. "You should sleep, you know. You need a lot of rest to recover, that's what my grandmother says."

They were so young, not yet ten, but they spoke like they knew so much more about the world than he did. He nodded. And maybe he knew back then that he'd follow them wherever they led him.

"Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?" They asked. Yunho hesitated. He didn't want to be alone, but more than that, he wasn't sure if he trusted himself. Blue must have seen the dilemma he was having written across his face, because they shooed him over on the bed and laid down beside him. "Close your eyes."

He did as they said, closing his eyes and breathing them in. They reached out, stroking his hair out of his face like his mother used to, like their grandmother did too.

"I'll stay, you don't have to worry. Just sleep now."

It was such a confident statement, and his mind and heart were yearning to believe it. So he closed his eyes, and Blue fell asleep before he did. Even so, he didn't run away. How could he?

Several more days of tireless research and experiment followed their long night at the library, and several more requests from classmates were filled by Blue in between classes, and homework, and little dates with Yunho at their favorite cafes and the arcade that he frequented with the boys. Finally, Mingi came back from his time away, and Blue was kicking their brain back into high gear.

Yunho was still in class when Blue made it to the pack's dorm, and Blue triple checked the schedule in their phone to make sure that Mingi would be home. They knocked on the door and waited for someone to open it. However, several moments passed by with nobody acknowledging their presence. So they knocked again, louder and longer this time. They'd barely managed to pull their hand away from the door when it swung open. On the other side was Hongjoong, quite possibly the only person in the entire world that simply couldn't stand Blue by presence alone.

"Yunho isn't home yet," He said, moving to let the door close in their face, but Blue pressed their palm against the wood.

"I'm not here for Yunho."

A flicker of confusion, and maybe frustration, washed across Hongjoong's pixieish features as he silently questioned what could have brought them there besides Yunho. Hongjoong wasn't a bad person, at least anyone who knew him well believed that to be true, but he was viciously protective. Much to his chagrin, Blue liked to joke that he was an under-trained guard dog, and he supposed it made some kind of sense. He didn't like feeling like his emotions were out of control, which meant he didn't like having new people in his space. Usually the pack kept their friends and flings out of the dorm, not entirely to keep them away from Hongjoong, but they wouldn't say it was entirely unrelated. But Yunho and Blue had been together for so long that separating them was an act of cruelty, even for Hongjoong.

"Why are you here, then?"

"Is Mingi here? I had a few questions about Cupids, and Yunho said he got home last night." Blue took a step closer in hopes that Hongjoong would move enough to let them in. Unfortunately, he was just as stubborn as they were. He didn't budge, leaving them intimidatingly and uncomfortably close to each other. Despite Hongjoong's relatively small stature, the aura about him was enough to send shivers down anyone's spine. Blue crossed their arms over their chest.

"He just got back, he should have time to relax. He hasn't been home in a while. Besides, don't you spend all of your time with your nose in a book? Can't you get your information from that? Since when do you ask for help?" He scoffed, lips turning up into a sinister smirk. The one he always got when he felt challenged. Blue had been dealing with Hongjoong's inexplicable prejudice for long enough to know that he was all bark and no bite.

"What better way to learn than from the source? But I guess you wouldn't know anything about that. I've never even seen you pick up a book." They pressed even closer, and the way their scent wrapped around him and the warmth of their skin radiated against him was enough to knock Hongjoong back a couple of steps, leaving room for Blue to step past him.

Hongjoong made a sound in his throat, one that couldn't quite be considered a growl, though it still made the hairs on Blue's arms raise. They kicked off their shoes and made themselves at home like they always did. Hongjoong tried not to snap. It wasn't even entirely Blue's fault, the moon was coming around, and he always got unreasonable this time of the cycle. Especially when someone he didn't want around was invading his home.

"Whatever. He's in his room, go bother him instead of me." He returned to the sitting area, flopping into the plush armchair with his phone.

"Whatever you say, Alpha," Blue said, not giving him a chance to bite back before heading for Yunho and Mingi's room.

Getting the pack all together in one dorm had been an ordeal that Hongjoong and Seonghwa had fought through tooth and nail during Blue and Yunho's second year at the University. They'd petitioned the board, claiming that having the pack be separated was detrimental to their health and, in turn, their ability to attend their classes and be upstanding students. It wasn't untrue in the least, being apart from the pack was hard on them all, especially those from pack-oriented species, and the school would have been stupid to fight them and risk stepping on a law or two in the process.

So, the boys had been moved into one of the largest dorms on campus, a four bedroom accommodation with two full bathrooms and a decent kitchen. The living room was a little cramped, but none of them ever minded. As such, all the boys were stacked two to a room, but that tended to work in their favor anyway.

Blue knocked on the door, waiting for the deep cadence of Mingi's voice to invite them in before turning the handle. The Cupid was sitting on his bed, wrapped in a cozy looking hoodie with his platinum hair falling unstyled in his face. When he saw Blue, a grin split his face. The two of them were fairly close given the relationships they'd both built with Yunho.

"Hey Mingi," They greeted, sitting down on Yunho's bed opposite him. "I hope I'm not interrupting you. Yunnie said he'd make sure you made time for me, but I don't wanna bug you."

Mingi shook his head, fingers fidgeting with the charm hanging on his phone case, a gift from Blue for his birthday - imbued with an anti-anxiety charm.

"You're not bothering me, don't worry. I'm not sure what you needed me for, though."

"I'm trying to work on something for a friend, but I'm coming up short. I was thinking that maybe if you teach me about Cupid magic I might be able to figure it out." They explained, flashing a sickeningly sweet smile at him, the one that made people melt to their will.

"Me?" Mingi was surprised, but Blue nodded adamantly.

"Yes, you. You're one of the only people I know that's patient enough to stand me. Plus, you're my favorite Cupid. But don't tell Channie, he'd be so sad." They laughed, fishing in their bag for a notebook and a pen. "So, can you tell me how it works?"

The next half an hour was Mingi trying and sort of failing to explain how Cupids harnessed their magic to guide people to each other. It was an essence, he explained, showing them the shimmering magic that he could produce. It played sort of like a pheromone but in spell form, a magical component of attraction that emulated the feeling of falling in love with someone. Even just being in the presence of Mingi as he let the pink haze sparkle between his palms was making Blue's mind feel a little bit strange. 

Blue reached out, feeling the way the air around the magic pulsed and plucked the magic from Mingi's hand, willing it into their own palm. That was another thing that Blue picked up easily, the manipulation of unfamiliar magic. It was, if they were to be completely transparent, the only reason that they excelled so heavily in their classes. Magic seemed to obey them in a way that it didn't for most people. They swirled the mist around their fingers before drawing a bottle from their bag to cast it into. They watched the way it moved, calm and slow like a miniature galaxy wrapped up in glass.

"You're the best, Mingi. I might be back if I need more help figuring it out. Is that okay?" They asked as they stood up. Mingi got up with them, stretching his arms over his head.

"Please, when have I ever said no to you? You can come over whenever." He said, a shy, sincere smile rising on his face. See, Yunho had a soft spot for Blue, and Ming had a soft spot for Yunho, so what the three of them shared was particularly special. Blue was grateful for it, the knowledge that they could trust Mingi the same way that they did Yunho, and that Mingi would always take care of him if Blue wasn't able to. They smiled at him, reaching out to squeeze his hand before heading for the door with the Cupid hot on their heels.

"I should go. Lots of work to do. But I'll let you know how this goes? We can grab coffee or something?" They said, situating their bag back on their shoulder and sliding their shoes on at the door. They spared a smile and a wave over to where Yeosang and wooyoung were cuddled up in their makeshift movie night nest. "And don't forget about game night at my place on Friday. Everyone's invited, Yunho's idea. Let me know who all is coming."

And with that Blue was back on their way, leaving the building with a bounce in their step as they headed home to pour themselves into Seonghwa's supplement.

It was another two days before Yunho saw Blue, far too long as far as he was concerned. Which was why he turned up at their door, being greeted at the door by one of their roommates on the way out. She smiled and let him in before closing the door behind herself. Their other two roommates were playing some video game in the sitting room, bickering aimlessly about something as they tended to be when he came in. They paused long enough to say hi and tell him that Blue was still cooped up in their room. 

"Can you bring them something to eat? I don't think they've been out since last night." One of them added. He was sweet, a guardian angel with visuals more like a pixie, and he had a habit of keeping his watchful eye on his friends.

"Thanks, Woong." Yunho sighed, grateful that he’d already planned ahead. He knew well that Blue had a habit of locking into whatever project they were working on and completely forgetting their own basic needs.

He didn't bother knocking on the door, knowing they wouldn't answer, expecting it to be one of their roommates checking up on them. He let himself in, and even upon realizing that it was Yunho, Blue didn't look up from the elaborate spread of materials set up on the desk.

"Yunnie, sorry I didn't answer your messages. Been busy," They said, finally sparing a glance and a tired smile over their shoulder. They looked downright exhausted, but that spark in their eye was burning brighter than ever.

"You're almost done now?" He asked, recognizing the look. They were pushing through the last leg now, more determined than they were when they started. He held out the container of food he'd packed from home for them, and they took it. Immediately they set it to the side, returning to stirring the miniature cauldron sitting on their desk.

"I think so. Just a few more minutes, then I can add in the final ingredients and then....I think it'll be all done after that." They smiled, that wholeheartedly proud one that made Yunho feel like his chest was being lit on fire. "Do you wanna try it for me? I wanna make sure I didn't add too much of the Cupid magic concentrate."

The average person may have shied away from being used as a glorified magical lab rat, but Blue was nothing if not diligent, and Yunho had tried so many potions and spells for them that he knew he could trust them with his well-being. Barring the time that they accidentally made his skin start turning blue, but that was apparently some sort of magical allergy. So he nodded and moved to sit down out of their way.

"Do you think it'll still work if I'm not a sex demon? Shouldn't you ask Soyeon or someone to help you out?" He asked. They held up a hand for him to pause, sprinkling a dark powder into the mixture and chanting a few words over it. Once they were done, they spun in their chair to face him.

"It should be enough to see if its intended effects are strong enough. And then I can ask Seonghwa to help me tweak it from there. But I just wanna get it to him as soon as I can. He really seems to be struggling with this."

Yunho scrunched up his nose. From the amount of nights he'd had to sleep with headphones on, it didn't sound like Seonghwa was suffering exactly, but he didn't feel the need to divulge that. Blue turned back to the potion, pouring a small bit of it into a tiny cup and offering it to him.

"Drink. It might still be a little warm, and it probably tastes like ass, but that's what this is for." They explained, offering up a piece of candy along with the potion. He hesitated, looking down at the cup full of deep maroon liquid. He swirled it around the cup before caving under his best friend's heavy gaze. He took a breath, then threw the potion back in one swift move, swallowing it as quickly as he could and trying desperately not to gag at the taste that coated the inside of his mouth. The candy followed quickly after, easing the horror he'd experienced.

"And what exactly is this supposed to do?" He asked, even as he felt a creeping warmth running through him.

"Make you feel like you've just had an orgasm, basically. That afterglow, you know? Sexual satisfaction. That's the feeling that Seonghwa feeds off of." They said it so nonchalantly that Yunho nearly choked. He was no virgin, but he wasn't even sure that he could put a finger on that feeling that Blue was describing. "I would try it for myself, but sometimes I sort of...wish my magic into working on myself. But I haven't managed to do that with anyone else. Not yet."

Yunho was trying to listen, but he was too distracted by the heat radiating through him, the relaxation tugging at his muscles. He shivered, humming out a pleased little sigh. His head felt a little heavy, and his body almost ached with the feeling of relief.

"Yeah, I think it's working." He said. Blue looked over, jotting down a quick note about the way that his face had flushed in their notebook, and Yunho couldn't tell the dull shock of vulnerability apart from the faded shivers of pleasure that thrummed through him. There was something about being so openly observed in that state that he couldn't exactly explain, so he was grateful that they didn't ask.

"Good. We can deliver this tomorrow. Don't think I feel up to the Pack right now," They admitted. Yunho had closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall. He definitely understood that. Despite their sometimes excitable roommates, Blue's dorm was much calmer than his own. Maybe that was a small part of why he escaped to their room so often. Second, always, to spending time with Blue.

"Sure, whatever you want babe." He agreed, opening his eyes to look at them. Blue nearly startled at how dark his gaze was, weighing heavy on them. "How long is this thing supposed to last?"

"A few more minutes. Shouldn't be longer than 30?" They didn't sound sure about that, and Yunho shook his head in disbelief.

"Why do I let you do your little experiments on me, again?"

Blue opened the container of food, finally beginning to eat and setting Yunho's mind at ease.

"Because you love me so much that you'd do anything for me. Duh."

Right. Duh.

Days at the Pack House were always full of chaos. Even the most normal days like this one had a lot going on. To be expected when you had a dorm full of young men of supernatural descent. It was almost time for the moon, which meant that Yunho's anxiety was peaked, and that time of the month was when Blue spent the most time at the dorms. Which, coincidentally, was when Hongjoong spent the most time out of the dorm. Surely unrelated, Yunho insisted, but Blue knew better. And, quite frankly, they were silently grateful for his absence. One moody werewolf was more than enough for them.

But Hongjoong being out when he was at his most vulnerable, or at least at his most volatile, usually meant that Seonghwa went with him to keep him out of trouble. So Blue became something of a dorm mother, helping to keep everything tidy and keep everyone fed.

 It was a good thing for them too, they figured, kept them from diving too deep into their work when they should be taking care of themselves. Surrounding themselves with people who took care of them in return instead of other students who just treated them as some sort of magical ATM was - unsurprisingly - good for their mental health. They sighed, stirring the fried rice they were prepping for everyone's lunches.

Meal prepping wasn't on the metaphorical list of responsibilities for them, but it was a comfort that they found. And Seonghwa let them since it meant everyone was being pampered. So they carefully packed the pork they'd cooked earlier into containers while waiting for the rice to finish up. Meanwhile, San had coaxed Wooyoung and Jongho into playing a game with him in the living room, the entire dorm filled with sounds from the screen and the shouting between the three. Yeosang was curled up in his favorite chair, supposedly working for a project coming due in one of his classes, but his eyes hadn't left the other boys in ages. Blue smiled fondly.

Being with the pack felt like coming home. They'd never had much family. Their parents were always busy, away saving lives and solving problems as part of various magic councils, and their grandmother was generally busy with work, though they spent much of their time working together. So, for a long time, it had really just been Blue and Yunho. Having so many other people treat them like they were part of something laid a blanket of belonging around Blue's shoulders, one they wouldn't trade for the world.

As Blue looked around the living room, the only boys unaccounted for were Mingi and Yunho, likely cooped up together in their room like they generally were when Yunho wasn't feeling his best. Blue remembered how jealous they'd been when Mingi first came stumbling into their lives, watching their other half be swooped up in a whirlwind of someone else. But now they were just grateful. Mingi was all too familiar with anxiety, so it was easy for him to help Yunho when Blue was busy.

Yunho was, in fact, curled up against Mingi's frame, their long limbs tangled together. The low, thrumming ache in his bones was really starting to settle in now with less than two days to the full moon, and his moods were becoming unstable which, as always, led to the usually bright natured boy turning into a recluse in fear of hurting one of his pack mates. They never deserved his attitude, and they were always patient with him, but he'd hurt Wooyoung's feelings one too many times to feel comfortable spending time with them in this state.

Mingi ran his fingers through the other boy's hair, picking up easily on the tension that was building in his body.

"Stop thinking so much," Mingi mumbled. Yunho tucked his head under Mingi's chin with a quiet, puppy-like whine, breathing in the familiar strawberries and cream scent that rolled off of him. It was almost sickeningly sweet, all Cupids tended to be, but he didn't mind it in the least. It blended well with the cologne that he wore, turning the sharp edges smooth on Yunho's senses. He toyed with the hem of Mingi's shirt, seeking something to do with his hands.

A knock came at the door, and Mingi granted them entrance with a soft but gruff 'what?'. Yunho buried his face deeper into his chest, pressing himself somehow even closer. But then Blue was there, leaning over the both of them to stroke Yunho's cheek.

"Wanted to check on your guys. I made extra food in case you're hungry." They said, voice soft like silk in the calm air, nearly lulling Yunho into a trance. This was maybe his favorite place to be. "We're gonna watch a movie while everyone eats so maybe Wooyo will settle down. Jongho is antagonizing him again."

Yunho shook his head. The young banshee's shrieks were already too loud in his ears with plenty of space and a closed door between them. He didn't really feel like facing them head on. Neither Blue nor Mingi argued. Blue leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of Yunho's head.

"Alright, well, I'll bring some food anyway. Just in case."

They left, and Yunho felt his chest ache as if it were going to cave in at the distance between them. He always got like this, helplessly clingy with Blue - and sort of with Mingi too, but never like he was with Blue. But they'd been there for him since early on, more than anyone else in his life, and it was as if his entire being knew that there was nobody he could trust the way he trusted Blue.

"They worry about you, you know." Mingi said, pulling away enough to look down at Yunho. The werewolf didn't answer, but his brows pulled together as he thought. He didn't like the idea of making them worry, but he knew that much was out of his control. He'd tried his best to act normal, but it was hard when everything was too loud and every touch made his skin crawl, and his bones felt like they were shattering in his body on some nights. But Blue didn't need to worry about him, he told them that time and time again, but they never listened.

"They shouldn't. They know it's going to happen every month," He grumbled, voice still hardly audible in the room.

"But that's never stopped us. I mean, if you're suffering, it makes sense that they want to fix it. Fixing things is what they do. And you're the person that matters the most to them in the world."

The words weighed on his mind. Of course he knew that the two of them were close, and he wouldn't hesitate to say that they were the most important person in the world to him, a part of his own personal pack as far as he was concerned, but it hadn't fully occurred to him that maybe they felt the same way about him.

"What are you thinking about?" Mingi asked. Yunho didn't get a chance to answer because Blue came back then with two plates of food for them, setting them both carefully on Mingi's desk which was pushed up against the wall between their beds.

"Get some rest. I'll check in one more time when I get ready to go home." They reached down, brushing Yunho's hair from his forehead to press another chaste kiss there, and any thought in his mind was immediately silenced. And just like that they were gone, and the sliver of light from the hallway disappeared, and that ache was back again, and every thought in his mind was so loud that it felt like his head would burst.

"I don't know what I'd do without them." He answered after another few moments of quiet. "It hurts so bad when they're not here with me. I don't want to feel that way."

"Then don't be without them."

Mingi leaned down, pressing a short kiss to Yunho's head, right over where Blue had left theirs, before letting him curl up again, holding him close to his chest.

It was several hours later when Seonghwa dragged Hongjoong home for some rest. He was exhausted, and irritable more than anything. His mood swings were worse than Yunho's, and he had a tendency to hyperfocus even more than usual before the full moon, like his mind could only handle one thought at a time. When they got back, he couldn't even bother saying hi to the rest of his pack - and Blue - who were sprawled out around the living room. The scent of a freshly cooked meal still lingered in the dorm, and the noise from the television was enough to give him a headache, so he headed straight for their room with Seonghwa hot on his heels.

Blue didn't give it a second thought until the end of the movie. It was getting late enough that they should leave soon, or crash on the couch which was always an open invitation in the dorm. But, before that, they headed for Seonghwa's room. They knocked on the door lightly, trying not to bother Hongjoong too much while he rested. When the door opened, it seemed they hadn't succeeded, because Hongjoong stood on the other side, his hair tousled as if he'd been asleep, but his eyes were heavy enough that Blue knew he wasn't getting any rest. If he had just a little more patience for them, they'd have been happy to help him remedy that. There were about a million concoctions to help him sleep.

"Really?" He snapped, a growl rumbling in his chest.

"Calm down, Alpha, I'm just here to give this to Seonghwa. I'll be out of your hair in no time." They said, Despite their teasing words, they were gentle with their tone, much like they were trying to soothe a feral puppy.

"I asked them to come, you can let them in." Seonghwa said. Hongjoong's dark gaze stayed on Blue before he was sulking back off to his desk, the several tabs open on his laptop stealing his attention again. Blue closed the door behind them, letting the darkness engulf the room again, aside from the color shifting LED lights casting slow, colorful stretches of light around the room.

"Here," Blue handed him the bottle. "Drink about a shot once a day and we'll see how it works for you. Just text me about any side effects or anything unusual. Or if it doesn't help anything at all. Then we can work on it a little more until it's just right."

Seonghwa smiled, setting the jar of liquid down.

"You're an absolute lifesaver, you know that? There's nobody like you." He told them. Blue laughed, shrugging off the compliment.

"I just do what I can do. But I have class in the morning, and I think your little wolf might be getting sick of me. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Without another word, Blue saw themselves out of the boys' room, closing the door behind them and stopping by to say goodbye to Yunho and Mingi one more time. They were relieved to see the dishes wiped clean of food. They kissed Yunho's cheek, then Mingi's, and said goodnight.

The next day was going on like any other, about a billion notes spread in front of them on their desk as the professor droned on about the magical compounds that formed celestial magic, and the complex history of divination amongst the human world using them. It would have been fascinating if Professor Lim wasn't such a jumbled teacher. But Blue took notes anyway, copying down everything they wrote onto a separate copy for Yunho who was missing class for the next couple of days until he was feeling well again. The full moon was only one sleep away, and the University was always more than accommodating for those with disabilities, magical or otherwise.

It was in the middle of the last class of the day, a more laid back one thankfully, that Blue's phone started buzzing on their desk. They picked it up quickly, silencing the call. Nobody paid it any mind, but being the definition of a picture perfect student that they were, Blue was mortified. They declined the call from Wooyoung, sending a text that they were in class and would call back later. They were granted another couple of minutes of peace before their phone began to buzz again. They huffed, putting down their pen and declining another call from Wooyoung. The third time, they had half a mind to block him, but a glance at their phone stopped them in their tracks.

It was Hongjoong's number this time, their screen lit up with 'whiny wolf' written across it. They froze, mind coming up with about a hundred terrible options for what could be happening. Hongjoong didn't just call to chit-chat with people, least of all with them. Maybe to ask about some stubborn bit of magic he was dealing with, but he was much too proud to ask them for help with that. It had to be Yunho, he had a habit of getting terribly sick before his transformations, too overwhelmed with his pain and anxiety until he'd worked his body up into a tizzy.

They shoved their phone in their pocket, messily gathering their notes and slipping them into their bag. They stood up, chair scraping against the floor, but they didn't care about that as they took the lecture hall steps as fast as they could. Everyone was working on their respective assignments, so it wasn't too much of an interruption as they explained that there was a family emergency to their professor and booked it into the hall.

They pulled their phone out, the device frantically vibrating in their palm all over again. They swiped to accept the call, pressing it to their ear as they walked fast enough that they were almost running.

"Hongjoong, what the hell is going on? I was in class, what happened?" They hissed, though it was hardly angry. Their mind was too full of worst case scenarios to make room for the usual reactions that they saved for him.

"Get over here now. I don't know what you did, but you're dead, do you hear me?" He growled. Blue was somehow left with more questions than answers as the line went dead. But even so, they knew how protective he was over his pack, they remembered the way he'd ripped into one of the older students for trying to take advantage of Yeosang's sweet disposition to use his magic.

So they picked up their pace, running across campus to the pack dorm, then taking the stairs in hopes that it would counter the elevator wait time. By the time they made it to the door they were breathless, chest aching as their heart pounded against the ribcage. They banged on the door, and a moment later Jongho opened it for them.

"Seonghwa-hyung. He's not doing great. Hongjoong-hyung has been flying off the handle all day," He said, closing the door behind them while they kicked their shoes off and immediately started down the hall. Of all the outcomes they'd imagined, they'd never even begun to consider something being wrong with Seonghwa. Maybe they should have grabbed their medical kit on the way, they thought, but they'd been far too frantic to think ahead.

They knocked on the door, barely finishing before it was tanked open. Hongjoong grabbed their wrist, dragging them inside and slamming the door shut behind them.

"What the fuck did you do him?" He asked, backing Blue into the door. They clenched their fists. They knew that fighting him wasn't the answer when he was like this, especially with his transformation coming. He wouldn't hesitate to hurt them. They nudged past him as gently as they could, walking over to the bed where Seonghwa was laying down, skin shining with a light sheen of sweat. They reached out, brushing his dark hair back to lay a hand to his forehead.

"What's wrong with him? He has a fever, what else?" They asked, pulling out their notebook to jot down his condition. "When did all of this start?"

"He hasn't been able to eat, he could barely stand up. He's...he's weak and exhausted." Hongjoong was pacing now as Blue held their hands above the Incubus' head, muttering a soothing spell under their breath and letting the magic seep into him. "It was after he took that fucking potion or whatever it is that you brought. The suppressant or whatever the hell."

"The supplement? Do you know how much he took?" They stood up, brushing their hands off on their thighs and turning to where the jar was sitting on the bedside. It looked like he'd taken what they'd instructed, a problem with the magic then.

"What you told him to. You're gonna fucking kill him." Hongjoong snapped, baring his teeth while his eyes flickered dangerously. "I told him not to trust your shady magic, but he swore up and down that everyone trusted you, that Yunho tried all your shit and he came out fine."

He scoffed, and Blue crossed their arms.

"I know that you're worried about him, but I need you to work with me here. If you want him to get better any time soon, then you need to calm down. Breathe." Their voice was calm, imbued with a light magical air to try and bring him down. They had enough experience with trying to talk down a wild animal.

"Don't tell me to calm down until your mate is dying and you can't do anything about it. You don't get to do that." He said, voice strained and eyes wild when he looked at them. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath, his fists unclenching at his sides and his frantic pacing coming to a halt.

"Has he had anything to drink?" Hongjoong nodded. "And he's not eaten anything, right? When's the last time the two of you had sex?"

Hongjoong growled then, a real one. He took a few menacing steps towards Blue, but they still didn't back down, tilting their chin up.

"I wouldn't ask for my own fun. I need to know. How long's it been?"

"A couple of days."

"He needs to feed. As soon as possible. Has he been responsive today?" They asked, turning back to Seonghwa. His face was scrunched up like he was in pain, quiet sounds of discomfort coming from his lips, albeit weak and barely there. If it weren't for that, they might not even know that he was conscious at all. "Hwa, baby, can you open your eyes for me?"

He blinked a few times, eyes burning red like they did when his Incubus spirit was taking over. Blue stroked his cheek, tilting his head to get a peek at his teeth where his fangs were beginning to form. Another sign that he was slipping into demon form involuntarily, losing his grip on his own being.

"I know this is awful, but just stay with us for a bit, okay? Gonna make you feel better, I promise. Hongjoongie is here too, he's not gonna let anything happen to you." They cooed sweetly, still emitting that barely noticeable soothing spell.

"I don't know what will happen if he doesn't feed," Blue said, looking over their shoulder at Hongjoong. "I haven't treated an Incubus this far gone before."

Before they could process what was happening, Hongjoong had pinned them to the wall, one hand pressed to their throat and the other arm laid against their shoulders. His gaze was burning through them, something barely contained flickering behind his irises, and Blue immediately felt their stomach drop.

"If he dies, you die next. I don't give a single shit what Yunho has to say about it. You won't step foot near my pack ever again." He growled. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you from the moment I met you."

Blue refused to flinch away, refused to close their eyes, refused to let the odd mixture of emotions burning inside of them set them ablaze. So they stared him down, slowly inhaling through their nose and ignoring the way that Hongjoong's grip around their throat was beginning to make them feel lightheaded.

"If he dies, it's going to be because you're too pissed to help him." They said, trying to sound calm even when their voice came out tight. "You're fighting the wrong battle right now, Hongjoong. Focus."

There was a beat, then another, and Blue swore that their vision was beginning to tunnel before Hongjoong let go. Then his entire body weight pulled away from them, and they collapsed to the floor. The room was spinning as sucked in a deep, ragged breath and immediately lost it again as they coughed. Their fingers curled against the carpet, trying to regain the sense of confidence that they'd had before this.

It was true, if Seonghwa died, it was all their fault. Hell, if Seonghwa died they could have their magic stripped away all together. If Seonghwa died, their entire life was over. The Pack would never forgive them, not even Yunho, and Blue wouldn't forgive themselves either. They needed to stop panicking, they needed to think. Surely Seonghwa feeding would help, but if it didn't help enough, then what the hell came next? Could a professional fix whatever it was that they'd broken? Should they try to call someone for help?

While Blue curled into themselves on the floor, Hongjoong moved to Seonghwa's side, every ounce of aggressive body language melting into something delicate and careful. He leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to Seonghwa's lips before pushing his hands up under Seonghwa's shirt, dragging it up his torso and then guiding him up enough to take it off.

"Joong," Seonghwa whined, and Hongjoong shushed him with another kiss, his tongue dipping into his lover's mouth and tracing against the sharp points of his fangs.

"It's okay, I'm here. We're gonna fix it." Hongjoong promised, moving down to make quick work of Seonghwa's sweatpants, tugging them down and leaving him in his boxers. His hand ghosted up, tracing over the outline of Seonghwa's cock. "See? Gonna take care of you."

Hongjoong sat back, stripping his upper half and silently cursing the fact that he was still turned on in a situation like that when every part of his being should be taken over by worry. But then Seonghwa was reaching out, grabbing for him weakly, his long fingers curling around Hongjoong's wrist and pulling his hand to run down Seonghwa's toned stomach. Hongjoong huffed out a noise, palming his mate's desperate cock over the absolutely useless cotton of his underwear.

"Gotta let me get my pants off, pet. Just hang on, not gonna leave." Hongjoong promised. He shuffled around, pushing the bottom half of his clothes off in a series of swift movements and kicking them aside.

It was the sound of his jeans thudding to the ground that pulled Blue out of the panic in their mind. With wide, shaken eyes they looked up to see the expanse of Hongjoong's bare back, the dip of his waist down to the curve of his completely naked ass, all on display in front of them. They scrambled back, bracing themselves against the wall and dragging themselves up to their feet. The scene in front of them had them breathless all over again, and a terrible blend of disgust and anxiety and searing arousal began pulsing through them.

Hongjoong maneuvered Seonghwa's legs around his waist once the two of them were fully naked, spitting lewdly into his palm and stroking Seonghwa's length. He was already leaking onto his stomach, arching against the bed and whimpering at the slightest touch. Just from jacking him off, Hongjoong was feeling like he'd combust. The heat in the room had to be rising a good few degrees between them.

"Please," Seonghwa keened, the loudest sound he'd managed to make in hours. "Need you to fuck me, need you inside."

"I know pet, it's okay. I will, I promise." Hongjoong swore, leaning down to kiss Seonghwa slowly one more time before sitting back on his heels. He looked over his shoulder to where Blue was pressed so tightly to the wall that they may as well have been trying to fuse with the paint. Hongjoong, however, looked entirely relaxed, not at all bothered by the show he was putting on. "Either make yourself useful for once in your life or get the fuck out. You don't deserve to watch."

Hongjoong's words sank into Blue's mind, blowing the fog and the panicked thoughts out of the way, and they scrambled for the door. They shut it behind them, the sound resonating through the dorm as they pressed their back to it. They closed their eyes, chest heaving as they chased their breath. They hadn't just seen Hongjoong about to fuck Seonghwa, they hadn't gotten horny over it, and they certainly hadn't almost killed Seonghwa with some rogue magic. None of this was real. They'd go home, they'd go back to bed, and when they woke up, this would all have been some freaky nightmare.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Yunho asked, the door to his room open just enough to reveal him standing there in just his favorite sweatpants, the material slung low on his hips. Not an unusual sight, but hardly one that Blue could handle seeing right then and there. They stared at him, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing as they searched for some sort of excuse for their presence.

"I was...I was just leaving. I should go," They said, heading for the door without another word. They were shoving their feet back into their shoes when Yunho caught up, large hand circling their wrist.

"Hey, are you okay? You look about one wrong move away from a panic attack." He observed. And damn him for being so sweet, and for having those perfect big brown eyes that made them melt. They bit back the fear, and the upset, and the confusion, and plastered a smile on their face.

"No, I'm fine, I'm good. I was just checking on Seonghwa. He didn't feel well. But he's...fine." They managed, albeit unconvincingly. They pulled their hand free. "I'm sorry, Yunnie, but I do gotta go. Sorry, I'll talk to you later? After the moon?"

They didn't give him a chance to answer, letting themselves out and practically leaping down the stairs. The burn of cool fresh air in their lungs couldn't come quickly enough, the sensation sending a chill down their spine and shocking the rest of their reactions out of them. They were still trying to process what had happened inside. Their hands were shaking; Adrenaline, they decided. Their head was hurting too. But one thing was clear to them, they still had to come up with a backup plan in case whatever the fuck they'd just witnessed the beginning of wasn't enough.

Once they were settled back in their dorm, locked behind closed doors and wrapped in their most comforting hoodie, they dropped a text in the dorm group chat to announce that they were working on an important project and couldn't be disturbed for the foreseeable future. If their friends had any questions or concerns, they didn't say anything. But no matter how long they sat there, or how long they stared at their blank sheet of paper, no real solution came into their mind. The tapping of their pen on the desk was steadily driving them crazy, but it was all they could manage to do. The sound rang through their head, echoing over the image of Hongjoong's naked form burned in their mind, and the way he sounded when he talked to Seonghwa. The memory of it was burning hotter than whatever hell they were going to for witnessing it.

They stood up, giving the room a couple of paces back and forth before collapsing onto their bed, palms pressed to their eyes as if it would erase the memory of this entire shitty day.

"Get your shit together," They nearly shouted at themselves, taking a long, deep breath and huffing it back out. They were in for a very long, very difficult night.

Nobody saw Blue for several more days. They were living off the stash of snacks under their bed and the bottled waters that they'd shoved to the back of their closet for events like this. Well, not exactly like this. Most of the time they wouldn't be so worried about the entire world crashing down around them. They'd denied every offer Yunho had made of bringing them takeout, or any requests by their roommates to go out to grab late night snacks with them. They were hardly even sleeping now, too focused on trying to dig their way out of this hole.

Seonghwa had texted, apologizing for the concern as if it was somehow his fault and not theirs. He assured them that other than a heightened hunger, they were doing fine, no signs of starvation or long term effects from the magic. Blue didn't call that fine, especially when he'd sought them out to do just the opposite. They'd been studying until the words blurred together, seeking some sort of reason that this had happened.

It was late into the night, nearly a full week after the incident, and Blue was half asleep, slumped over their notes and ideas, eyes falling shut when their bedroom door opened. They gasped, scrambling to stand up on sleepy legs. But it was just Yunho, the worry on his face bringing a new wave of guilt and exhaustion. They'd not avoided him for this long since they were young, they never went more than a day or two without talking.

"What are you doing here? It's late." They sighed, body nearly giving out as they collapsed back into their desk chair.

"You're avoiding me." Yunho walked closer, pressing a hand to their cheek to check that they weren't feverish. "You look like shit, when's the last time you slept?"

He moved around their room, clearing out some of the snack wrappers and the pile of empty water bottles - or at least trying to limit the mess to one little corner until he had time to properly clean up.

"I don't know. What time is it now?" They asked. Yunho didn't answer that, he knew they didn't really want to know in the first place.

"You need to rest. We can talk about this in the morning. But it's never good news when you coop yourself up in here for this long." He tried not to let out a sigh. At least they'd been eating, that was one less thing for him to fuss over.

"You're not my dad, Yun. I'm fine." They said, but despite their protests they were already standing up, eyelids heavy as they stretched their arms above their head and twisted their back. A series of semi-concerning popping noises followed each move, and Yunho side eyed them. "I'm barely even tired. And I'm sure you came here for something better than telling me to go to bed."

"That's exactly what I came here for. Not the first time." Yunho pulled the blankets on their bed back, nodding for them to get comfortable. They meant it when they said they were barely tired, at least they really thought so. But their spot looked so appealing in the moment, and their entire body was begging to betray them. "Sleep, Bluebell. I mean it."

Blue knew he was serious, he always was when he called them that. No room for teasing or whining.

"Whatever you say," They grumbled, not quite managing to throw in the sarcastic tone they intended. They wiggled their whole body under the blankets, not even managing to stay awake long enough to feel Yunho tuck them in and kiss their cheek.

The second time that Yunho caught Blue's eye, they were outside, a small basket sitting at their side as they picked flowers from the edge of the woods. He peeked his head out of the door to the cabin. He'd been cooped up in his room for ages - which was really just a week or so, but when you're eight or nine that's an eternity - and he'd been itching to catch a glimpse of the other little kid running around.

"Hey," He called. Blue jumped, looking back at him with wide eyes. They gave him a tight lipped smile before turning back to their basket. Yunho didn't like that response very much, so he made his way across the lawn to where they were knelt in the grass. "Your name is Bluebell, right?"

The question made Blue laugh, a pretty giggle rang out like birdsong to match the pretty smile that took up their face. They shook their head.

"No, that's not my name." They said, "Bluebell is a flower."

"But lots of people are named after flowers," Yunho pointed out, his lips downturned into a confused little pout. Blue tipped their head, their little eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed tight. Then they nodded.

"I guess you could name someone Bluebell. What's your name?"

"My name is Yunho."

Their friendship blossomed easily after that, but no matter how many times Blue argued about the name, it stuck around. To Yunho, calling them something unique was his way of showing them that they were special, a little inside joke to remind both of them that even if a nickname was something anyone could use, nobody would have the bond that they did. It stayed that way forever, them being his Blue, and even when it caught on with other people, the nickname reminded them of that little boy that they spent all their time protecting. The one who grew up all alone with the wood nymphs and the moon, the one who would walk them to and from school day after day every year. The boy that stayed by their side even when he was sick of them wanting to study magic instead of playing games with him. Blue knew all the way back then that they had no intention of living without him.

Yunho barely slept that night, he was too worried about making sure that they were okay. Blue always took care of him, and he figured he had to repay them for that every now and then. He took time to tidy up their room, or sometimes wash a load or two of their laundry. The sun was already peeking over the horizon when he crawled into bed with them, pulling them tight to his side and falling asleep to the sound of their gentle snoring.

It was afternoon when Blue woke up to Yunho stretching beside them. They groaned, rubbing at their eyes and curling deeper into the blankets. They were still so tired, but their stomach was starting to ache with hunger, and they probably needed to use the restroom, but both of those things meant getting out from the warm embrace of their bed. Yunho reached down, stroking their cheek gently, and they blinked up at him.

When he looked at them like that, it felt like the entire world stopped spinning, leaving them a little off-kilter. It was the softest gaze, the one that he always saved just for them. He smiled, pinching their cheek before moving his hand entirely.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. How do you feel?" He asked. They didn't answer, just curling closer to him so they could rest their head on his chest. He didn't push it, sliding an arm around them and letting them soak up his body heat.

"I'm sorry you had to take care of me," They said after a while. He shook his head.

"You don't ever have to apologize for that. I'm always gonna take care of you. I promise you that."

They looked up, their faces a little too close, and their hearts both beating in time, just a little too fast now. Blue nipped at their bottom lip, fingers twisting and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. The moment was stretching out, becoming a little too intimate. They pulled themselves away.

"But you have enough on your plate. You shouldn't have to worry about me too."

"I'm going to worry about you. Stop thinking about it." He said, hand coming back to stroke their face again. Blue frowned. "You're my number one priority, so stop trying to argue with me. If you're gonna be reckless, someone has to take care of you, and it's gonna be me. No fighting me about it, yeah? You'll just make it more difficult."

The words carried a sense of finality about them, and even though they wanted to argue, part of Blue was aching to be taken care of just like this. So they nodded, and laid their head back down. It was quiet for a long time, several minutes dragging out until it felt like a century of peace passed between the two of them. And finally, after a long while, Yunho spoke up.

"What had you working so hard that you wouldn't answer my calls?"

Blue didn't answer right away, thinking back to the fight with Hongjoong, to the sight of Seonghwa laying there, pale and weak. To the sight of the two of them naked, the way that Hongjoong spoke and moved with such gentle certainty, the way it had awoken something downright forbidden in them.

"Seonghwa was sick. My supplement didn't work, it made things harder. I'm trying to fix it." They answered quietly. Yunho sighed. He could hear the guilt in their words, the way they put all of the blame on their shoulders.

"It's not your fault. You wouldn't have given it to him if you thought you'd hurt him." He reminded them, nudging Blue so that he could sit up and face them. They pushed themselves to sit up, but they didn't look back.

"I know. But it hurt him anyway, and it didn't even solve his problem in the first place. He came here for a solution, and he came here because he trusted me. I don't even know if he'd accept my help again. Or if he should. But I feel like I have to try, I have to do something. It was...awful. I've never had anything backfire like that before, this is supposed to be easy for me. I could have killed him, Yunho."

"Blue,"

"And I know that I'm probably being reckless. I mean, I never actually thought that much about it before. I didn't think my magic would ever hurt someone. I didn't even know that I was capable of that, and I can barely even stomach doing magic anymore. It feels awful."

"Blue."

"Like, I always try so hard to make sure that everything I'm doing is safe and ethical, and I do all of this research, but I'd never even considered that by doing unregulated research and testing, by allowing innocent people to use my magic, that I could be killing people. I mean, I haven't. But I could"

"Bluebell. Look at me." Yunho snapped. Blue looked up, eyes brimming with tears. Yunho made a soft, wounded sound. He shook his head, dragging them into a hug and rocking them both back and forth. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's okay, I promise. He's okay, and so are you. Just breathe. You're not gonna figure anything out when you're panicking like this. Relax."

Blue closed their eyes, pushing down the wave of tears that were trying to fall, inhaling Yunho's scent, that faint, woody smell of mint, and pine, and fresh morning air. They were so tired, tired of being angry with themselves, and tired of pushing their limits, of trying to meet everyone's expectations. 

"Yunho, I'm so tired," They said, and their voice gave away exactly what they meant. He held them tighter as if hugging them could squeeze all of the negative feelings wrapped up in them back out.

"I'm here. You can rest with me, I've got you now." He promised them. He stroked their hair, tracing their cheek. His touch was gentle, always so careful like they'd shatter into a million pieces if he wasn't. And, for once, Blue really felt like they just might. They leaned into his palm, soaking up his warmth and the calloused touch of his skin.

"What would I do without you?"

"We don't have to worry about that," Yunho laughed. "I'm not going anywhere. You've helped me through my hard times, so it's my turn, right?"

"Can we go to the Noodle Shop?" Blue asked after another long bout of silence. Yunho nodded, mostly just delighted that they'd suggested eating without his prompting. "Let me clean up a little."

Blue stood up, stretching the tension out of their shoulders and heading for the bathroom. They stared in the mirror there, examining their reflection. It was hard to see the differences from how they usually looked, the bags under their eyes and the crease between their brows that hadn't left for a day or more. But they knew regardless that this wasn't how they wanted people to see them. Sure, they'd allowed themselves a moment of relaxation, but that didn't mean they were going to let everyone see behind the curtain.

A quick shower later, they were digging through their closet, pulling on their favorite pair of jeans and one of Yunho's old hoodies. The whole time, he was waiting patiently, the picture of reliability, and for a moment Blue wondered who they had pleased in a past life to deserve someone like him.

Yunho had been a werewolf for years now. They were both grown into teenagers, and somehow the feeling of self loathing that came with every transition never faded away. It had been two days since his last transformation, and he should have gone back to Blue's house by now. He should have checked in, he knew that they'd come looking for him otherwise, but he couldn't find it in him to leave his den.

Waking up after the moon left him with an ache in his bones and a heavy feeling of confusion that he couldn't manage to shake off. What was worse was the blood staining his hands this time around. It wasn't his, he'd checked everywhere. It was staining his clothes too, and he'd scrubbed himself as clean as he could before changing into a clean set. He'd never had this problem before, half the time he wasn't even sure that he left the den. But now he'd hurt something, maybe someone, and the idea of facing anyone after that, after knowing that he wasn't fully in control, that he'd always be a threat, he couldn't stomach that.

It was evening when Blue came out to find him. It was dangerous for them to be that deep in the woods alone, especially so late, but that didn't stop them from seeking Yunho out.

"Yunho," They called from outside, not willing to encroach on his space. He flinched at the sound of their voice, and even though everything in him wanted to hide away more, to dig himself in deeper and not look them in the eye, he couldn't leave them out there all by themselves as the sun went down.

"You shouldn't be out here," He said, running a hand through his hair. His skin felt different now, like it was stained so deep that scrubbing off the evidence wasn't enough, but maybe that was in his head. Blue took his words as an invitation to duck into the small opening of his home. It was clear to them immediately even in the dim lighting of his lanterns, that he hadn't slept well the past two nights.

"You shouldn't either. You didn't come home, I thought something happened to you." They reached out, grabbing his wrist and tugging him this way and that, diligently checking to make sure that he wasn't injured anywhere.

"I'm fine. You should go back." He said, pulling his arm back and shrinking into himself. Blue narrowed their eyes at him.

"Not without you. What's going on with you?" They asked him, their voice harsh and making it unbearably clear that they were hurt. The way they looked at him, however, betrayed the undercurrent of concern that ran through them.

"Nothing."

"Don't you lie to me, Jeong Yunho. I know you better than you know yourself." They snapped, and Yunho looked at them with big brown eyes that were all too quick to fill with tears. Immediately the harshness that Blue had shown was gone as they rushed closer, reaching up with gentle hands to cradle his face. "Hey, hey, you're okay. What's the matter? Don't cry."

"I'm a monster. You aren't safe with me, nobody is. I'm dangerous." He sobbed, tears streaming in torrents down his face. Blue had no idea what to do, they'd never seen Yunho break down like this. Not the day he came home to them, or when he'd confirmed that his parents were gone, or even after his first full transformation. For as long as they could remember, he'd been their rock, their ray of sunshine. He was supposed to be all bright smiles and contagious laughter. It was devastating to see him fall apart in their hands.

"Don't say that. You're no monster." They said, using the sleeve of their hoodie to gently dab away his tears. "Look at me. You're perfect. You'd never hurt a fly, let alone a person. You're a good person."

"There was blood. I did something, and I don't even know what it was. I couldn't have stopped it." His entire body was shaking with his sobs now, his hands clutching desperately at the hem of Blue's hoodie like he was scared that his confession would drive them away from him.

"You don't know what happened, Yunho, that wasn't you. Maybe you were defending yourself. You wouldn't do anything like that if you were in control. That doesn't make you a monster." They promised, pulling him in until his frame melted against theirs, face tucked into the crook of their neck.

Yunho had never felt like this before, so vulnerable and broken yet so wholeheartedly safe. It was like having Blue with him was enough to dull the pain, the insecurity. They would do anything to keep him from believing the worst about himself.

"I'm scared," He whispered. They shushed him gently, stroking their fingers through his hair and trying to avoid the knots from his lack of a shower since the moon.

"I know. But you're not alone. I promise."

The living room of the Pack dorm was always crowded on study night with Blue. It was one of the only ways that they could get some of the members to actually sit down and face doing their work instead of complaining about not understanding. It wasn't that they didn't get it, but Blue found that they had a tendency to psych themselves out. Thankfully, the pack had discovered that they had a way with poking and prodding at the boys until they were right where they should be, until everything made sense. And, best of all, they managed to make sure everyone came out of things feeling confident.

This one was a special study session, partially because midterm exams were coming up, and Seonghwa had managed to coax Hongjoong out of his room, though he wasn't exactly a part of anything. He had his headphones clamped firmly over his ears and his laptop propped on the arm of the chair he was in, working on some music project from the looks of it, but he wasn't hesitating to send burning glares towards Blue every now and then.

Blue was sitting on the floor in front of the couch where Yunho and Jongho were working on a project together, something about the history of demonic bonds and trades with the human race, Blue wasn't entirely sure. Across the coffee table from them, Yeosang was typing away at his computer, and Seonghwa was sitting behind him, taking notes from his Fae Literature textbook. He was doing significantly better than the last time that they'd been over, and he didn't seem upset about the issue with their work in the least. That alone helped to ease their worries.

"Blue," Wooyoung whined, head dropping on Blue's shoulder. They reached up and tousled his dark waves. He was sitting on their right, San on their left. Only Mingi was missing since he was off working on a group project.

"Yes, Wooyoungie?" They asked, leaning over to look at the sheet of problems he was working through. They gently pushed his head back towards his work. "Finish two more before you take a break. I know you can do these two."

They doodled a little star by each of the problems they pointed out before giving Wooyoung a little kiss on the cheek. Yunho smiled, watching for a moment before turning his attention back to Jongho. It was comforting how easily the two parts of his family fit together.

It was then that Hongjoong took his headphones off and got up to grab a snack from the kitchen cupboard. He would have much rather stayed cooped up in his room until Blue left or fell asleep. But he guessed this past few weeks had been getting to him, and trying to leave Seonghwa unattended in their presence was too much to ask of himself.

There was a sort of reliance that his pack had on him. It was his job to lead them, to sort out their issues and make them feel safe and at home. He'd been the one to bring them all together. Yunho had been his first pack member, and Hongjoong had never felt quite as comfortable as he had once he'd found him. Unlike Yunho, Hongjoong had been born to a wolf pack. He knew what it felt like to belong, but once he was old enough to go on his own, he'd lost that bond. Yunho helped him bring it back.

He hadn't expected to pick up the others, the non-wolves, but he knew what that bond was supposed to feel like and he'd be damned if anyone took them from him. It was his nature that drew him to his pack, they all fit together like pieces of a puzzle, creating something so natural that it almost felt like magic. They belonged together. So he couldn't entirely understand the connection that all of them had with Blue. And sure, he guessed that it made sense to an extent, the relationship that Yunho had with them went far beyond friendship, even if the younger wolf wasn't fully aware of that, and maybe it could be natural for Yunho's packmates to feel some type of bond with his chosen one too, but for Hongjoong it just felt wrong; The feeling he got around Blue was too hot, too sharp, too all-consuming, and he couldn't decipher it. It felt like the world was punishing him for something that he couldn't begin to figure out.

He watched the way that San asked Blue about his homework, and the way that they diligently explained the concepts to him and emphasized them with a reassuring pat on his shoulder. They were so patient, even with Wooyoung clinging to their side, pouting and whining about how he'd never be able to understand Applied Magic in Mathematics (which Hongjoong couldn't really fault him for, that shit made no sense. How could there be an entire course on the rules of exceptions?) Every time that Blue was in his dorm, surrounded by his pack, it was like they belonged there, and no part of him was willing to accept that.

"Joong," Seonghwa called, and Hongjoong looked up from the bag of chips he was opening. "What have you been working on?"

See, the thing about Seonghwa was that Hongjoong could hardly ever say no to him. He insisted it was something to do with the demon's magic. Seonghwa, however, insisted that his magic didn't work that way and Hongjoong was just down horrendously bad. The pack tended to agree. He tensed for a moment now that everyone was turning their attention to him. He tried to calm down, to let the familiarity of his home and his pack distract him from all the frustration he was harboring.

He walked back over and slotted himself in between Seonghwa and Yeosang, offering to share his snack. Blue flashed him a look, eyes wide. They hadn't seen each other since the incident, and when Hongjoong met their eye, there was something unfamiliar in them, something that put Blue on edge. They shifted in their seat, looking between him and Hwa. Hongjoong didn't relish in their discomfort, but he wouldn't say that he wasn't at least a little pleased to see that he still held some power. Was it so wrong to want an intruder in his home to feel threatened?

"Have you been working on your songs all day, hyung?" Wooyoung asked, putting down his pencil and disregarding the work he'd been doing. Hongjoong nodded, and Seonghwa half sighed, reaching a hand up to rub the back of Hongjoong's neck. He wasn't usually a fan of affection like this in front of others, but with how tight his shoulders were getting, he let himself melt into it a little more than usual.

"You shouldn't work so hard." Seonghwa scolded him, but Hongjoong only grumbled in response and rolled his eyes. He'd sat through this lecture enough times.

Hongjoong had come to the University to study multicultural music and magic tech, so he often spent his time writing and producing music for use in various areas of magic. Honestly, Blue found it sort of inspiring. 

"Can we hear it?" Yunho asked. Everyone knew that Hongjoong was protective over his magic, working on it tirelessly and insisting that nothing was ever good enough. Though his grades in all of his classes implied otherwise.

"It's not done yet," He answered, reaching for a few chips. "Maybe once it's finished."

"You never think your songs are finished," Jongho pointed out, looking up from his laptop. Hongjoong glared at the Hellhound, but he just laughed and went back to his work.

"Can we at least hear a demo?" Yunho asked. For a moment Hongjoong regretted even letting them know he was working on something at all. They always got like this, so nosy and supportive that it was mildly suffocating. But he couldn't really be mad that people cared about him, that was more than a lot of people in the world. He was lucky to have them, he knew that. He stretched to grab his laptop, opening up a file with his demos in it and started one up.

It was good, everyone knew it would be. They were honored to be one of the only people outside of the pack to get to hear Hongjoong's songs like this, and hear how they grew from beginning to end. They could feel the magic weaved into each track, the careful use of incantations in the lyrics and the power each instrument held in the overarching sound. It amazed them, and they had yet to dislike a single track.

"It's really good. Is that the one you're still working on?" Wooyoung asked, a grin lighting up his face. Hongjoong nodded, closing his laptop and setting it aside.

"I really like it. It sounds a lot like your older stuff, I think. Better than the last one." San added.

A couple of the boys laughed, and Blue nearly snorted. Everyone had listened to San complain for ages about having to hear Hongjoong's last track a hundred and one times. His own fault for asking to help with it. Now even hearing the title of the song made him throw a hissy fit.

"The last one was good!" Hongjoong argued, a growl reverberating in his chest.

"I loved the last one." Blue shrugged. Hongjoong's eyes were on them as they continued. "I will forever and always be a Desire supremacist. I'm San's worst nightmare."

San immediately started whining, but Hongjoong just stood up. He was honestly a little shaken at being addressed so casually, so gently by Blue. He didn't really think of them as friends, but they were still so kind to him and, in truth, it sort of pissed him off.

"I'm going to work in my room." He said, gathering his things to leave. His chest was aching with how hard his heart was pounding in his chest. With the door closed behind him, firmly separating him and the rest of the world, he pressed his palm over his chest.

He knew that he was the asshole in this situation, and part of him really did want to feel bad because, somehow, the worst part of everything was that there was nothing wrong with Blue. They were a good person, maybe too good, and they took amazing care of Yunho, of his entire pack, and he hated that. They'd never been mean to him, at least no more than he deserved, but being around them aggravated him in ways that he couldn't begin to explain.

He thought back to the day he'd been taking care of Seonghwa, the way that his mate had been fading so fast he couldn't even think properly. He didn't know that Wooyoung had called Blue before he did, but he remembered the way that his hands shook when he finally called them, the way his wolf was screaming to take over. He hadn't felt that out of control in a long time, just so goddamn helpless. He needed to protect Seonghwa, his pack was one of the only things that had ever really mattered to him, and his pride had been ripped to shreds when the only thing that he could think to do was call someone else. To call Blue of all fucking people. But they'd come, of course they had. They'd come running the second he called because that's what they did. In some fucked up way, Hongjoong was very much aware that he and Blue weren't so different after all.

"You're being an idiot." Hongjoong snapped, whirling around to look at Seonghwa. Honestly, he knew this conversation was coming and that only made him more sick of it. It was later the same day when Seonghwa mentioned wanting to work with Blue on his supplement again. He wasn't generally one to turn on Seonghwa, but there was one thing that he couldn't tolerate and it was watching his mate put his safety on the line.

Seonghwa didn't even flinch at his outburst. Honestly, he'd seen it coming. He knew Hongjoong, knew his body language. The Incubus frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. He straightened up in his spot, sitting at the edge of their shared bed.

"I appreciate your input, but it isn't up for debate." He responded. Hongjoong growled, beginning to pace the room again. Seonghwa hated seeing him stressed out like this.

"You could have died. You said yourself that you'd never been that close to losing yourself before." Hongjoong said. His voice was sharp around the edges as he thought back to that day again. Honestly, he hadn't stopped thinking about it. It haunted him, watching Seonghwa barely able to speak. If he'd waited just a little longer to call for help, he might have lost him altogether, lost an entire piece of his soul. Fuck, he'd had to call for help in the first place and that was all Blue's fault. His job was to take care of Seonghwa, of all of them, and he had never had a problem doing so before then, so clearly the issue wasn't him. It couldn't be.

"But I didn't. You can't blame them because I had an adverse reaction to some magic. It's like an allergy, how could they have known?" Seonghwa tried to reason. "I want to solve this problem, and nobody has been able to help me. If they might be able to, then I want them to try."

"Why them? You could ask anyone."

"Because I trust them."

"I don't."

"But Yunho does. Everyone else does."

"Then maybe they're all idiots, too. Maybe you're all being stupid." Hongjoong was losing this fight, he knew that. He generally lost fights with Seonghwa. Unlike the demon, he was quick to anger and slow to cool down. Seonghwa didn't answer that, he didn't need to. Hongjoong took a moment to breathe. "I don't understand what you all love about them so much. I don't get it. The entire pack is obsessed with them, and Yunho trusts them with his life. More than he trusts anyone, even Mingi."

"They've been there for him longer than you have. You have to accept that we'll never really know what the two of them have been through. And you have to accept that he's imprinted on them, you can't change that. We should just be grateful that they take such good care of him."

Seonghwa stood up, tentatively stepping towards his mate as if he were a cornered animal. Hongjoong was quiet, defeated. He let Seonghwa take his hand, the warmth reminding him of who he was talking to. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"I am grateful. That's not it."

"Then what is it? They're good for everyone. That's all you've ever cared about with other people. Everyone gets along with them, and they're always willing to help."

Hongjoong wished beyond all wishing that any of these things made it easier for him. Not all wishes come true, though, and he was being made very aware of that.

"I don't know. Can we just forget it? If anything happens to you again, though, you're not doing this anymore. I'm not going to let them experiment with some bullshit magic until they do something that they can't fix."

Seonghwa nodded, less of an agreement and more of a show of surrender for the time being. The conversation was less than productive now, so surely it could wait for a better time. He knew well that there was no use in talking to Hongjoong when he was feeling threatened.

The fight was inevitable, and it had tensions high in the dorm even if nobody else knew what was happening. Yunho had taken to spending even more of his time outside of classes at Blue's place, and Wooyoung was spending more time with his other friends than usual. The only member particularly willing to withstand Hongjoong's terrible attitude was Jongho, but the Hellhound was built to withstand much worse than a moody werewolf.

However, after a few days of bickering and brooding, Hongjoong decided that the best way to handle things was confronting his problem head on. He knocked on Blue's front door, waiting impatiently for them to answer. When they didn't show their face quickly enough, he banged on it louder. When they did whip the door open, they looked exhausted, and Hongjoong had to will himself not to ask them if they were okay. He clenched his jaw, and Blue rolled their eyes.

"What is it now? I'm busy." But they were nicer than Hongjoong in the long run, everyone knew that. As they retreated back into their dorm, they left the door open for him to follow if he so desired. He didn't exactly, desire that is, but he followed them anyway. He closed the door behind him, growing somehow more frustrated that they were hardly paying attention to him at all.

"I came to talk to you about your little project with Seonghwa." He said.

They stopped, turning back to look at him. They looked significantly more worried now, which eased his mind more than he wanted it to. At least they cared enough to worry about him, that reassured him, but not enough to lay down his arms.

"Is he doing okay?"

"I want you to stay away from him. From all of my pack." Hongjoong said, crossing his arms over his chest. The wait that his body sank into such a confident gait pissed Blue off, maybe even more than his words themselves.

"And who exactly do you think you are to tell me who I can and cannot spend my time with?" They asked, eyes narrowing in his direction.

"I'm the head of their pack." He answered as if it were obvious. Blue stepped towards them in two long strides.

"And as the leader of their pack, it's your job to take care of them. Not control them."

"I am taking care of them."

"Really? Because to me it looks like you're taking care of your own fragile ego. You're afraid that if anyone else is nice to them they'll realize how shitty you've been. And you just couldn't live with yourself then. I don't know how they put up with this bullshit. Go tell them to stay away from me, but I don't have to listen to a damn word you say." Blue snapped, their rage and frustration radiating off of them, a stifling wave of heat.

"You watch your fucking mouth." Hongjoong growled. Before he even finished speaking, he had Blue against the wall again, just like they'd been before. His face was dangerously close now, teeth bared and fangs sharpening before Blue's eyes. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. They're my pack, that has nothing to do with you."

"You're just mad because I had him first." Blue said, voice shockingly smooth despite the wincing pain in their back from the collision with the wall. Hongjoong faltered, his snarl dropped for a second to give way to complete shock at their statement, then his eyes were blazing even hotter with unspoken emotion, things he'd never even considered before this.

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you," He warned. He pressed closer, too close. He could feel Blue's body heat radiating off of them, making the tiny bit of space between them feel like it was scorching. He didn't flinch, neither did they.

"If you think your empty threats and your stupid attitude scare me, you'd better think again. I stopped being afraid of you a long time ago, Kim Hongjoong."

If it weren't for the slightly soured notes of their scent, and the way that Hongjoong could feel their pulse under his touch, he probably would have believed them. They were good at this, the acting bit, the pretending that they weren't being consumed by this the way that he was. Hongjoong didn't like that. He wanted to hear what they really thought, wanted them to give in, to cave under the pressure.

"Get off of me."

"Stay away from my pack."

"What are you gonna do if I don't? Kill me? Lock them in a fucking cage? Or just come here to push me around and threaten me some more?" They spat back. Hongjoong flinched, his weight slowly easing off of them. But they didn't move, and the tiny bit of space between them didn't grow any wider. They just looked at each other, angry and burning and so alive.

Neither of them knew exactly who kissed the other first, but Hongjoong wouldn't be surprised if it was him. But it didn't matter with the way that Blue's hands were in his hair, pulling him closer, opening their mouth to let him in as he crowded them against the wall. The hands that had been pinning them in place slid down to their waist, dragging them into him until their fronts were pushed flush against each other.

He pulled away only when his lungs began to burn, firmly tipping their chin up to nose along their neck. He dragged his fangs over the soft, clear skin there, down to the crook of their neck. He breathed them in. Blackberry, vanilla, sweet honeyed musk. Familiar and infuriating and fucking intoxicating. He growled. His hands slid under their shirt, forcing it out of his way to feel along the expanse of warm skin under his palms.

"Hongjoong," They breathed out, the sound clipped off by a throaty moan when he bit harshly against their shoulder, just the tiniest pinpricks through their skin. His tongue dragged over the spot, soothing it. That would certainly leave a mark. Hearing his name like that, a prayer on his lips, it was a drug he needed more of.

"Bedroom." He pulled them away from the wall and spun them towards the bedrooms. They led the way, opening their bedroom door and pushing him inside. They were kissing again before the door was fully closed, only ever pulling apart enough to tug their clothes off, discarding their shirts one and then the other until they could explore the fully bared territory of each others upper bodies.

Hongjoong pushed them onto the bed, maybe harder than necessary, but they didn't complain even with their gasp and stunted cry of surprise when their back bounced against the mattress. He lingered over them, tugging their pants off with a couple of harsh pulls, leaving them so close to naked beneath him.

There was a sick sense of pride that felt like ice spreading in his chest - foreign, and sharp, and almost unwelcome - as he looked down at them. He got them like this first. He was in control. Not Blue, not Yunho, or Seonghwa, or anyone else in his fucking life. Just him. He was coming out on top. He had conquered.

He slotted himself between their thighs, kissing them again. Each kiss was hungrier than the last, not as calculated as he would have been under different circumstances. Their teeth clashed, and they nipped at the skin of each other's lips, the mix of tongue, and spit, and huffed out whines should have been borderline disgusting, but neither of them could get enough of it. Hongjoong sat back, and Blue propped themselves on an elbow to chase him until he was out of reach.

His hands slid up their front, finding their nipples and circling his thumbs around them. He started slow before he progressed to toying with them harshly with both hands, tugging and twisting hard enough the Blue's hand flew to one of his wrists. He knocked their hand away, leaning down to soothe the sting with his tongue. He suckled one nipple, then the other, teasing his fangs against it and reveling in the way they whined for him.

"Hongjoong, please." They gasped, nails digging into the flesh of his forearms, leaving pretty little crescent moons against his skin.

"Please, what?" He asked, lips quirking into a smirk that sent another wave of arousal through Blue's body. They huffed, and Hongjoong sat up, shifting so his hips were pressed flush against theirs. He was hard, painfully so, and the friction between the two of them was more of a tease than it was any sort of relief.

"Fuck me," Blue said, but they weren't begging, not really demanding either. Still, Hongjoong was too worked up to argue. The anger was bleeding into arousal and leaving his mind foggy and locked in on nothing but feeling Blue wrapped around him, on watching them fall apart just for him.

Blue reached into the drawer beside them, pulling out a bottle of lube and tossing it to them with a challenging glint in their eye. Hongjoong stared back, not wanting to give in to anything they offered him, but that urge was hardly enough to stop him.

So he shucked off his bottom layers, leaving him completely naked and all too comfortable with being exposed in front of Blue. They weren't complaining, their eyes following the planes of his toned stomach, the muscle of his thighs, all leading them to the pretty cock sitting between his legs.

While Hongjoong popped the cap of the lube and coated his length with it, Blue wiggled out of their underwear so the two of them were back on even ground. Hongjoong settled on the bed on his knees, tugging at Blue's hip hard enough to half force them to flip onto their front. He slapped their ass, the sound resonating in the room.

"Ass up," He ordered. They listened without hesitation, lifting themselves up onto their knees to present themselves for him, back arched so prettily beneath him. He smoothed one of his hands along their back, the other spreading them open to watch the way their hole clenched around nothing at the lightest touch. He spanked them again, and again, and a few more times after that until they were practically panting into their pillows, leaking arousal like a bitch in heat.

He didn't give them any proper warning, just the feeling of his cock lining up with their hole before he started to bully his way inside of them. He wasn't terribly big, but he was usually a kind lover anyway. If it hadn't been Blue, he would have stretched them open, maybe gone down on them for a while if he was feeling patient, but he was burning much too hot with need to care about that. He needed this, needed to fuck them into the mattress until they couldn't walk, or talk, or think about anything or anyone but him. Him and his dick splitting them open.

Underneath the heavy roll of his hips, Blue whined, feeling him fill them up inch by inch. The stretch ached a little, stinging as he finally laid his hips flush with their ass. Their fingers dug into the comforter on their bed, trying to ground themselves as he immediately pulled back, not giving them a chance to adjust to the feeling.

"Fucking look at you, sucking me in so good," He hissed, hands kneading their ass, spreading them open to watch the way they swallowed his dick, how they opened up just for him. The thought had him going absolutely insane. All he could think about was how warm they felt around him, how he could smell them so much stronger like this. "So tight, s'like you're choking my dick."

His words were strained as he fought to keep up the brutal pace he'd started. Blue buried their face in the bed, muffling the moans and cries that he was dragging out of them with every drag of his dick against their sweet spot. Hongjoong, however, was having none of that. He curled his fingers into their hair, tugging at it hard enough to have them pushing themselves up on their hands, back arching harder and neck curving back. Without something to stop it, the incoherent string of curses and moans filled the air of their room, and Hongjoong soaked it all up.

His hand slid out of their hair, around to wrap around their throat. He wasn't choking them, just reminding them that he could, holding them and pulling them closer to him until their fingertips were barely brushing the bed. He leaned down, his chest pressing into their back and his nose brushing against their jaw. He inhaled, their scents mixing in the room and being weighed down by the musk of sex. He was scenting them, letting himself sink into their skin, claiming them even just for a while. He growled, nipping at the skin of the neck and earning another sharp yelp.

"Needed me so bad, didn't you? Wanted me to fill you up so bad that you just couldn't act right." He hissed, letting their body collapse against the bed again. "That's okay, I can fuck the attitude out of you."

They pressed back into each thrust, fucking themselves onto him even with their thighs starting to shake from the exertion.

"So deep, Joong, please." They buried their face against their arms, too lost in the feeling of their building orgasm to feel any sort of way about what either one of them were saying.

"I know, gonna fuck you so good. Make you all mine. You're just gonna come crawling back for more, aren't you? Gonna beg me to fuck you dumb again." Hongjoong could feel his own control slipping, his grasp on whatever sanity he'd come into this with was gone. He couldn't think, could only listen to the way they chanted his name and the way it sent shockwaves through him.

"Gonna cum," They warned him, but he could already tell with the way they were squeezing him. He gripped their hips tighter, squeezing until his fingerprints were bruised into their soft skin, fucking them until they were nearly crying. He poured his entire soul into fucking them so good that maybe he wouldn't be able to stay angry with them, so hard that maybe they'd realize that this wasn't a fucking game. His knot was swelling, and he probably should have thought about that first as he willed himself to hang in a little longer even when he was so goddamn close.

Blue's high shook their body, making their knees go weak under them as they clung to their pillow like a lifeline. One of their hands flew back to find Hongjoong's over their hip, fingers bumping and linking together as they used him to ground them through it. Every thrust pulled and stretched them in a way that made their vision blur.

Then Hongjoong was pulling out, stroking himself to completion and shooting against their thighs. His orgasm seemed to last forever, so intense and yet not enough. The urge to have them stuck on his cock was strong enough to feel like the earth was tilting on its axis. He swallowed it down, looking at Blue as they relaxed against their bed.

Hongjoong stood up, trying to figure out what sort of fucked up blend of pity and pride was spinning through him. Blue looked tired, or maybe just disinterested in the situation, but that idea made his chest hurt, so he avoided it. He didn't want to think about them at all, or the fact that he'd just had sex with them when that was the last thing he had planned on doing, the last thing he should have done. Especially when he'd just said he never wanted to see them again.

"You can leave now." Blue said, finally pushing themselves to stand up. His cum was still dripping down their legs, and he was trying so hard to stay sane with that visual right in front of him. But they were acting like it was nothing, like they weren't still naked, and marked up, and covered in him. As if their legs weren't visibly shaking under their body weight when Hongjoong could see every sign of what had happened between them. "And you can take your demands with you. If I help Seonghwa is up to him, you can take that up with him at home. As for the rest of them, they have a right to choose who they want to spend their time with. I won't take that away from them, you shouldn't either."

They grabbed something from the laundry, wiping themselves clean before tossing it back. Hongjoong followed their lead, pulling his clothes back on in a hurry. By the time he was slipping into his jeans, they were fully clothed and heading for the bathroom.

"Oh, and Hongjoong?" He looked up at them, noting the cold look in their eye. "Don't come back. You have no business with me."

They closed the door, leaving Hongjoong in their room, the air heavy with the two of them, and his heart sinking so low into his stomach that he felt like he was gonna throw up. What the hell had he just done?

Once Blue cleaned themselves up and made sure that any traces of Hongjoong's presence were gone, they weren't actually sure what to do with themselves. They had never really considered doing something like that with Hongjoong, maybe because he hated their guts. But it was good, they'd be lying if they said they wouldn't be thinking about it in their own time. But now they weren't sure they could show their face at the pack dorm again, or anywhere that Hongjoong might be, actually. Maybe he'd gotten his way and they'd never see any of his pack ever again, because maybe it would be better if they just didn't leave their room. Ever. For any reason.

They didn't realize how long they'd spent pondering their impulsive decisions until Yunho was knocking on their bedroom door. they'd forgotten they'd promised him a movie night to celebrate the end of exams. They froze for a moment until he knocked again.

They stood up, smoothing their hair once more and trying to calm themselves down. Yunho was good at noticing when something was going on in their head, and they really weren't sure how talking to him about this situation would go. Not until they determined what the hell it meant and if it was going to happen again, if it changed anything whatsoever about their confusing ass feelings that they were trying to choke down. They huffed out a broken laugh.

"Blue, lemme in! I can hear you, you know." Yunho whined from outside the door. They finally twisted open the door handle, letting him and the takeout he'd brought into the room. But YUnho didn't move, just looked at them for a concerningly long moment with a slowly growing look of confusion. Blue wondered for a second if maybe he'd developed some sort of mind reading ability because he was certainly searching their eyes for something. Finally he stepped into their room, setting the bag of food on their desk and looking around with narrowed eyes.

"What is going on with you?" Blue asked, trying not to act suspicious. They started opening the bag of food to unpack everything.

Yunho could tell something was off, Blue could see it in the tension in his shoulders, and the way he didn't immediately throw himself onto their bed, in the way that he seemed to be avoiding looking at them now when he'd been practically burning holes into them a moment prior.

"Where is he?" Yunho asked. And when he looked at Blue, it was with an expression they hadn't ever seen on him before. His eyes were dark and weighed heavily as he moved closer. They took a step back for every move forward he made, trying to maintain the distance between them, but his legs were longer, and he was clearly not looking to let them escape. "Did he leave? Did he fucking touch you?"

"Yun, what...what are you on about?" They asked, but it was clear enough when Yunho grabbed at their shoulders, holding them still so he could examine them. One of his hands came up to tilt their head up and to the side, revealing a previously overlooked mark left by none other than his own pack leader. Yunho's breath caught in his throat, and he let out a growl that made Blue shiver.

He tugged at the neckline of their shirt, pulling it out of way to show off a few other love bites on their skin, down to the tiny puncture marks Hongjoong had left behind.

"That bastard," Yunho spat out, letting go of Blue and heading back for the door. They watched him with wide eyes as he put his shoes on, and they rushed to do the same before Yunho's quick stride could take him out of reach, their meal left abandoned on the desk and the door to Blue's dorm slamming shut behind them.

"Hey, what the hell is going on with you?" They asked, grabbing at Yunho's hand just before he reached the stairs. Their touch stopped him in his tracks, and when he looked at them he softened just a little, letting them catch a glimpse of their beloved Yunho before he was hidden behind the walls again. For a moment, their best friend felt so terribly out of reach, even with their fingers intertwined, with the warmth of him seeping into their skin.

"He touched you. He fucked you, didn't he?" Yunho asked. "I'll kill him."

They weren't used to seeing him like this. Yunho was slow to anger, and even when he was upset, it was never like this.

"I can smell him all over you, all over your fucking room. He's dead."

When Yunho pulled his hand away, it was still so gentle as if he were afraid of hurting them. He took off back towards his pack's dorm and, half terrified of what would happen if they didn't, Blue followed behind him.

Back at the dorm, things were quiet for once. The boys were minding their own business, San and Wooyoung curled up on the couch with Yeosang playing a game quietly in front of them. Mingi was tucked away in his room, Jongho too, and Seonghwa was tidying the kitchen after the dinner they'd all had. Hongjoong, however, hadn't left his room since he got home and scrubbed himself clean in the shower, trying to wash the feeling, and the scent, and the guilt of everything he'd done from his skin.

The calm was shattered by the door slamming open, probably hard enough to dent the wall, and certainly loud enough to alert the entire floor of Yunho's anger.

"Hongjoong," He screamed.

The name hung heavy in the air. It wasn't common for Yunho to call his hyungs by name, and never so loud, and deep, and weighted.

Seonghwa was the first person to respond, rounding into the living room. He checked on the others first, a side glance to make sure the three boys weren't overly startled. All of them were just looking on with wide eyes and tensed muscles in case they needed to leap into action.

"What's going on?" Seonghwa asked delicately, looking between Yunho and Blue, who had only just managed to catch up and was breathless and clearly distressed.

"Where is he? Hongjoong, get out here!" Yunho shouted again, taking a step to pass Seonghwa, who reached out to grab his arm. "I know what you did, you bastard. Come on,"

Mingi came out first, looking visibly shaken. If anyone knew Yunho anywhere near as well as Blue did, it was Mingi, and he was certainly not familiar with this side of the wolf either. Jongho's door opened a second later, and he looked more bothered by the noise than anything else.

"Hey, what's up?" Mingi asked, taking a couple cautious steps towards the trio with Jongho following behind.

"I need to talk to Hongjoong. Now." It was the first proper answer that Yunho had given since they got there, and Seonghwa finally stepped away to grab his mate.

"Okay, he'll be out in a second. Just take a breath, okay?" Mingi reached out to massage Yunho's shoulder. Having Mingi at his side calmed him down a little bit, much to Blue's relief, but it was clear that he wasn't over his emotions just yet. "Can you tell us what this is about?"

"Don't worry about it." Yunho said, eyes still trained on the hallway and frame practically blocking Blue from the room. Mingi stepped past him to get to the witch instead.

"What's gotten into him? I've never seen him like this before."

Blue picked at the old, frayed hoodie that they were wearing, one of Yunho's, and maybe Mingi's before that, but it had been in their closet so long they couldn't remember. They wished desperately that it was doing more to make them feel safe at that moment. They shook their head.

"I did something stupid. Really really stupid, and Yunho is pissed. I don't know....I don't..." They sniffled, fighting back tears.

Mingi's expression shifted into one of understanding as Hongjoong finally stepped into the hallway with Seonghwa behind him. As soon as Hongjoong joined the room, any calm that had washed over Yunho was gone again.

"You," He jabbed a finger in the air towards the leader, taking a few steps towards him only for Hongjoong to stand his ground, chin tipped up defiantly. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Calm down." Hongjoong answered. He looked past Yunho's looming form to where Blue was still standing with Mingi, the Cupid's arm around their shoulder as if to steady them from the shock of what was happening in front of them.

"Don't tell me what to do, you have no right to do that. And don't even think about looking at them, I think you've seen more than enough." He growled, baring his teeth. His fangs were on full display, and his eyes were flickering amber when Hongjoong looked back at him.

"I think we can have this conversation in private."

"Why? Because you don't want everyone to know that you took them from me? Because you know that you're a fucking dick for touching them? You don't have a right to act like I'm the one in the wrong here."

A wave of understanding washed over the room, and everyone looked over at Blue. They shrunk closer to Mingi's side, and he shook his head at his pack mates.

"Nobody said you're in the wrong, now let's take a deep breath and we can talk about this." Hongjoong said. Blue hadn't seen him like this either, his entire being radiating pure dominance, and they could see the other members shrinking away from him. But not Yunho, he puffed his chest out, baring his wolf proudly and without hesitation. Pack leader or not, no level of respect of rank difference could have stopped him from pursuing this battle. The only other member of the pack who moved was Jongho, the de facto protector with his eyes red and his energy darkening enough to dim the lights in the room.

Blue was shaking, and they wanted to run away from the situation entirely, but instead they were rooted in place so firmly that they weren't sure they'd be able to leave even if things turned bloody.

"You knew all along, I know you did, but you couldn't keep your hands to yourself," Yunho growled, poking a finger into the center of Hongjoong's chest. The smaller man huffed out at the feeling, taking a step back from the sheer pressure, but refusing to cave in. "My mate? What, you just had to assert your dominance? Put me in my place? What the hell did I ever do to you?"

"It's not like that," Hongjoong shook his head, and when he looked over at Blue, he looked genuinely remorseful. Blue looked at their feet, the gears turning in their head. Mate. Of course they knew what it meant, but hadn't occurred to them that Yunho may have cross-species imprinted, that he'd imprinted at all.

Their whole lives it had been just the two of them, and then Mingi, then the others. If anything, they'd assumed he'd imprinted on Mingi and they'd all live happily ever after, but now...now every memory of their lives looked a little different in their memory. Their stomach twisted in knots, wave after wave of nausea hitting them.

"Oh, of course it's not." Yunho snapped. His arm wound back to land a punch, but before he could swing, a firm hand gripped his elbow with inhuman strength that had the wolf groaning in pain.

"Don't." Jongho warned, steady and calm amongst everything going on. His aura of darkness had turned a smokey grey, materializing into shadow around him. Yunho's eyes softened when he noticed how hard the Hellhound was fighting, the internal battle of which side to take in his own pack. Then he looked at the others, his entire pack putting distance between themselves and the two wolves clashing in the middle of the dorm, between themselves and him. Wooyoung looked startled, and San looked so wounded that Yunho worried he might have actually hurt him.

And Blue, his beautiful Blue, so close to tears and huddled up in Mingi's arms. His heart shattered, his mind spinning. He didn't know if he was angry, or scared, or just blinded by jealousy, but whatever it was that he was dealing with had him feeling weighed down and wholly out of place.

"You can be mad at me if you want to, but that won't change anything. Did you even talk to them before dragging them here? Do they know what's happening?" Hongjoong asked, trying not to let his emotions come through in his voice, but his own anger and bitterness were evident.

Of course he knew that was the problem, he was the villain in the story, but he wasn't ready to back down and admit that. Losing to Yunho was one thing, but it was another entirely to lose to him in front of their entire pack. He wasn't going down without a fight, and he wasn't ready to acknowledge that all of the hurt and anger and frustration were desperately outweighed by guilt and concern. He'd really never meant to hurt Blue, or Yunho, or anyone.

"Did you bond with them? Did you tell anyone? Or did you think that wanting them was enough to make them yours? Because God knows they'll give you whatever the fuck you want. Do you really think I'm scummy enough to do anything they didn't want me to?" Hongjoong pushed on, stalking closer to Yunho, who finally took a step back.

His words hung heavy, and he could feel everyone's eyes on him, the disapproval. He regretted it the second that he said it, but it was too late for him to take them back now.

"Hongjoong," A voice said, soft but firm enough to cut the tension. "Don't say things you'll regret. I think you both need some time to cool down, we can handle this later."

Seonghwa stepped forward, placing himself between the two of them. The room was burning hot, and everyone looked about one second away from snapping or bursting into tears.

"They're my mate. You know how sacred that is. I never would have done this to you," Yunho said after a moment, taking another few slow steps back from the wolf in front of him. "Stay away from us, or you'll regret it. I thought I meant something to you, but clearly you've only ever cared about yourself and your stupid ego."

Those were the last words Yunho ever intended to say to Hongjoong. He turned, taking Blue's hand gently, trying not to scare them more than he already had. As he pulled them out of the dorm, Blue looked back, eyes glossy with tears and dark with desperation as they silently begged Hongjoong to look at them. They were wading through the shame too, through the pain of watching the pack separating because of them. He didn't look up, not a single glance, just watched the floor as the door shut.

The quiet in the room was deafening with Yunho gone. Hongjoong could feel tears pricking his eyes, could feel the building desperation to break down, the weight of it trying to drag him to the ground. He had done a lot of terrible things in his life, he knew damn well that his hands weren't clean, but he'd never imagined that he would carry the weight of destroying his own pack. He had never been so impulsive, and reckless, and cruel, and selfish. And now it was time for him to face the consequences of his actions.

"Hyung," It was Mingi who finally spoke. And Hongjoong prayed that his usual kind, patient words would follow. "Blue? What were you thinking?"

Hongjoong felt the words run right through him. He couldn't breathe, lips parting in a silent gasp as he tried to steady himself. It was true, though, everyone knew from the moment they met him that Yunho had imprinted on Blue, that he just needed the time to realize it, and Hongjoong had taken that from him. Why? Because he was bitter? Because he was self-destructing? Surely he could have destroyed himself in a quicker, less devastating way than this.

"I don't know," He answered.

"You shouldn't have fought with him. You know how he feels about them, and he hadn't even figured it out yet." San said. His voice was gentler, but his words were still a slap in the face.

Nobody else had anything to say as they left, and maybe the silence hurt more. Then it was just him and Seonghwa, and Hongjoong couldn't keep his composure anymore. He sank to the ground at his lover's feet, head in his hands and sobs quaking his body. Seonghwa stepped closer, and laid a hesitant hand to the crown of his head.

"What have I done?" Hongjoong asked, looking up at his lover. Seonghwa just shook his head, lips pursed into a line and silent disappointment painted on his face. Seonghwa gave his head one last stroke before leaving him alone.

The dorm had never felt this quiet or cold to Hongjoong before, he'd never felt so uncomfortable in the home he'd made. He closed his eyes, tipping his face to the sky and sending out a prayer to whatever or whomever it was that was waiting for him at the end of this cruel life. Please, he begged, please let this be over, let him fix this, and - at the end of the line - let him suffer for what he'd done. He deserved that much.

[wildlife4life]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

*A nylon gloved hand reaches out of a dark hole that smells like toothpaste and medical grade cleaner. In its trembling fingers is a wrinkled torn out note page. At the top there are crossed out chart notes and below that are the words NFL Buck snippet*

I LIVE!!!!!!!!! What up my buddie peeps? Making a surprise NFL Buck tidbit drop between studying and having my fingers in people's mouths (I am not a crazy person, I am in Dental Assisting school and doing my clinical rounds). The writing beans woke up for once and I had to share! But this does not mean a new chapter is going to drop any time soon. I am nearing the end of my schooling, on top of being a mom and running a household, so the time to actually sit and write, and have the writing beans working is very rare these days. BUT! NFL Buck is still in the works and another chapter is coming, just need to be patient with me. To those who are being patient and have stuck around for this fic, thank you.

Tagged by the super lovely and super talented @spaceprincessem. I am ever patient and beyond excited for your upcoming mockingjay buddie fic!

"Drinks are on me tonight." Eddie states firmly before Chimney could finishing reaching back for his wallet. The older man looks back and does a mental count of everyone that came along after their very rough shift and can't hide his small wince, "You sure Diaz? Including Athena, thats 10 weary firefighter bar tabs you'll be covering." And Chimney knows better than most how much just one thirsty civil servant can put away, let alone 10. Eddie shrugs one shoulder and gives him a small smirk, "Oh yea. I mean technically drinks are on Buck tonight, as thanks for saving me after the whole 'reckless spider-man' routine." His right hand throws up air quotes while his left is pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. Gifting an expensive coffee machine for the firehouse was one thing and knowing the basic financial logistics of Eddie's upcoming birthday golf trip was another. But having the funds on hand for an on the whim night out with several thirsty hard working men and women, was tipping onto the side of skeptical. And Chimney needed to voice it. "Doesn't he have an expensive birthday trip for you to save up for?" Chim quirks an eyebrow. The Texas native's smirk broadens. Instead of vocally answering him, Eddie opens his wallet and pulls out a fucking black American Express card. Chimney's jaw literally drops, as the bar lights reflect off the silver EDMUNDO DIAZ stamped at the bottom. Next to him, Hen audibly gasps before quickly collecting herself and shouting out, "118, drinks are on Diaz!" And is immediately met with loud hollers and cheers. Rich man Diaz laughs loud and reaches past a still stunned Chimney to hand the prized card to the wide eyed bar tender. In a hook and ladder joint, a card like Eddie's has probably never even come close to even the block of the bar and Chimney's only seen a black Amex in movies and tv shows. "No restrictions." Eddie tells the bar tender, "And I'll start with whatever IPA is on tap." He looks back at Chimney, "What'll have Han?" And folds up his fucking Burberry leather wallet before sliding it back into his back pocket.

For those who are not familiar with this fic, please go check the first two chapters of Three Taps for the Lombardi. All other snippets and posts for NFL Buck can be found here. Warning, there are a lot! Hope you enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure!): @hippolotamus @dangerpronebuddie @daffi-990 @tizniz @rainbow-nerdss

@elvensorceress @monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @lonelychicago @spotsandsocks

@diazheartsbuckley @diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @watchyourbuck

@glorious-spoon @prosperdemeter2 @bekkachaos @tidesreach @kitteneddiediaz

@eddiestummy @aroeddiediaz @lemonzestywrites @bi-buck-coded @lover-of-mine

@beyourownanchor6 @honestlydarkprincess @bucks-daddy-issues @inell

@pansysgothgf @smilingbuckley

[hecckyeah]

scars we cover up with paint

(or: Daisy just needs her mom May)

(Agents of SHIELD, post-canon, MayDaisy mother daughter bonding time)

.

.

The first warning sign she should have picked up on was the clenching, gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Melinda May had been out of field duty for so long, she just attributed it to indigestion.

There was a time, years ago, when every warning bell in her body would have picked up on that noticeable gut feeling. That feeling meant action. Danger. Act fast, or else. She had once been able to quickly sort through the causes of it, just by scanning her eyes around the room or noticing discrepancies in her surroundings that her subconscious had picked up on before she could register them.

She would have been checking in on her team when that happened, going through names on her phone and knocking on doors, one by one, until everyone was alive and accounted for. And then she would find out what her intuition was telling her. 

That was her past life. That was always being on the move, never predicting the next tragedy, never being able to keep her family safe. 

That was then.

This is now.  

There was no reason for it. Unless one of her Academy students was secretly harboring evil intentions, the feelings were simply natural and meant nothing.

But now, even with a stomach full from lunch and a good book in hand, the discomfort persisted. 

I’m going crazy . 

The warning bells continued. She shifted in the chair, hoping it really was just a rare bout of indigestion. Even stood up, stretched her arms up toward the ceiling, then down, folding herself in half until her arms hugged her knees. Stretched from side to side, twisted her torso.

It didn’t help.

Which meant it was probably time to panic.

.

.

.

.

The message came before she could pick up her phone to call Mack.

It really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Simply an update from Agent Payne, assistant head of the space exploration program, explaining as requested that the Zephyr Three just touched down and that the agents were currently being examined at the SHIELD medical facility in Charleston, South Carolina.

Melinda remembered, with a pang, that this was officially the end of the small team’s last mission. After five years flying missions for the space division and at least that many trips around the galaxy, the Zephyr Three and her crew were finally Earth-bound, permanently. 

“I’m ready to leave space travel to the younger kids,” Sousa had joked last year at their annual Framework meetup. “I’m like a hundred and ten – You guys think I deserve to retire yet?”

May had seen the emotion-filled look Daisy sent her husband, probably thinking she was being subtle but failing valiantly as usual.

If anyone deserved a nice life of low-stakes office work and training recruits, it was those two. Daniel and Daisy. 

She returned her attention to the phone screen and Payne’s message. Glanced over it one more time. 

In getting lost in her memories, she had missed the end of it.

Zephyr 3 just landed, the message read. The crew’s headed to the SCMSC for their workups. All healthy at first glance, just tired and ready to be on solid ground again. Don’t want to worry you.. but your girl is anxious to see you. Might be trip related, maybe not. But she asked for you a few times. Let me know if you want a ride down here.

May paused. 

Your girl.

She knew Payne was referring to Daisy. It was widely known in SHIELD that the small team had a special, unique, altogether unbreakable bond that rivaled that of even the tightest-knit family. It was forged in the years of insane trials they’d gone through – Events that would have destroyed any weaker souls. They’d lost the people closest to them. Almost lost themselves hundreds of times over. No one could go through all that and not come out changed.

Coulson had sometimes referred to Daisy as the daughter he never had. And although she rarely said it, May had always felt the same.

Your girl.

The girl she’d trained. Protected. Held up when the universe seemed determined to destroy her. 

Daisy had never needed May. But she’d always chosen her. 

Chosen her to be the mother figure she’d always dreamed of having. 

The next text message followed, with perfect timing. And even before she could see the sender’s name, she knew it was from Daisy.

Hey May. Payne said he’d update you, but I’m thinking he’ll downplay things. Need my S.O. right now. Please tell me you’re free. I’ll tell Payne to send the jet.

No emojis, no exclamation points, perfect punctuation, and she hadn't called May her Supervising Officer in years . Something was very wrong, and the thought sent a hot stone down to the depths of her chest. 

It only took her seven minutes to pack a small duffel, all while on the phone with Payne, arranging pickup. He also promised to personally call the Academy for her and arrange for a substitute for a few days. She thanked him profusely for that gesture. 

Finally she locked the door behind her, stepped out onto her front porch, let out a deep breath, and set her jaw.

On my way, she texted Daisy. Hang in there. I got you.

.

.

read the rest on ao3

[snapple16]

Bowuigi Roaring 20s Au!

So! I decided to share this new project here with everyone who is part of the Bowuigi fandom! It may take a little while to get an actual ch posted but hopefully it'll be worth the wait! Just a heads up there will be a couple uncomfortable subjects, please keep this in mind but I hope y'all will enjoy this story! The story title:

Guns and Roses 🌹

This story takes place in Brooklyn 1926, the height of Prohibition. There are four main gangs that control four of the Five Burroughs of New York. Here's the list of characters and who is who!

Lt Dr. Luigi Mariano: Younger brother of Mario, honorably discharged military medic. Owns a modest flower shop in Brooklyn

Bowser Ryujin: leader of the Koopa gang, the biggest rival to the Mariano Gang.

Mario Mariano: Leader of the Mariano Mafia family. As the eldest son he had to take over the family even during the first world war, he didn't want Luigi to go to war but it was their fathers last ditch effort to turn the coward of the Mariano family into a man.

Gang territories:

North Burrough: Mariano Leader: Mario Mariano crimes: violence, money laundering, boot legging

South Burrough: Koopa Leader: Bowser Ryujin crimes: violence, gun runners, Bootlegging, racketeering, murder

East Burrough: Long Leader: "Donkey" Kong crimes: rigged boxing matches, money laundering, gambling

West Burrough: Boo Leader: King Boo (human name tbd) crimes: bootlegging, human trafficking, prostitution ring, opium runner, murder, kidnapping

Gang second in commands:

Toad, Mario's second

Kamek, Bowsers second

Madame Gravely, King boos second

Chunky, Dks second

Other notable characters

.Peach: Mario's secret lover. A member of Brooklyn's elite society

.Daisy: also a member of high society, peach's cousin and Secretly dating the mayor

.Paula: mayor of Brooklyn, adopted sister of Dk

.Rosalina: Daisy and Peach's cousin, best doctor in the city. All gangs go to her when in need of medical assistance, except king Boos men

.Peasley: Local rich boy that likes to pick on Luigi when Mario isn't around.

.Wario and Waluigi: Muscle and whiskey runners for hire when the heat is too much for the gangs.

.the Koopalings: Bowsers adopted kids and the street agents for the Koopa gang

.Junior: Bowsers biological son and Heir to the Koopa gang

I hope you guys will enjoy this story!

[ctrl-alt-deleting-yr-face]

fuck it

i’ll share a small snippet of my au oneshot that i wrote. maybe it’s not too horribly written. my friend said it was good

if people are interested maybe i’ll share the whole thing ^^

anyways uhhhh lil thing that i wrote for my dumb lil bedman revival au below the cut. just a note that this is oc x canon so if that ain’t your jam it’s fine ^^

Hikari awoke… who knows how long later. She sat up frantically in a hospital bed, panting as she tried to figure out where she was, only to be met with a rather tranquil sight. A firm hospital bed with a fluffy blanket, an open window that let in a nice breeze, an IV drip in her arm and a bouquet of daisies and lilies on the bedside… And two figures in the corner of the room, one of whom she easily recognized. That’s Asuka! But who’s…

“Well, well, well. Look who’s finally awake.”

Asuka left the room, leaving just the other boy in the room with her. A boy whose mere presence overwhelmed her. He had fluffy lilac hair, half-lidded brown eyes…

“Took you long enough, don’t you think? Honestly, it’s ironic that you were the one who needed medical care.”

He wore a black turtleneck with loose balloon pants, a hoodie wrapped around his waist…

“Usually I’m the one that requires rehabilitation of some kind. I’ve had a history of needing frequent medical assistance, you know this. Yet here I was, sitting here waiting for you to wake up.”

A down arrow hair clip, round glasses, crutches on his arms… She could feel tears forming in her eyes.

“Honestly, Hikari. What happened to you? What did you do? How did you do all this?”

Is that really him..?

Hikari just stared at the boy in front of her, tears in her big blue eyes as she gazed in shock. She felt like she’s dreaming again… If she pinched herself, would she wake up? She opened her mouth, but only a single word left her lips.

“...Romeo?”

The lilac haired boy froze, going silent as he turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

“What? …Oh, don’t jump the gun on me now, what is it?” Romeo announced with his characteristic snark, watching the blue haired yokai intently. He was expecting a smile, or some sort of happy reaction, but he wasn’t expecting what really happened. Hikari sobbed, quickly trying to stand up. She stumbled a little, catching herself with the IV stand as she shakily moved towards the boy.

“Romeo…” She spoke shakily, taking a few more small steps before she broke. Tears ran down her face as she dashed over and pulled him into a hug, crying as she held him close. She wasn’t sad. No, not in the slightest. She was overjoyed. Relieved. Filled with love.

Finally, she succeeded. He was back. For once, and for all.

[moonlight26posts-blog]

In Baltimore, MD: URGENT!!!!! "Daisy" the BEAUTIFUL 3 Year Old Rotty!!!!! Exhibiting Neurological Trouble & Partial Blindness :-( MD SPCA

Daisy Needs Rescue 3 years, 71lbs

Meet Daisy, a 3-year-old Rottweiler in need of rescue. She was discovered as a stray and kindly brought in by a good Samaritan.

While under our care, our exam team promptly identified numerous significant medical concerns requiring urgent attention. Daisy exhibits neurological symptoms, including an inconsistently wobbly gait, head tilt, and polyps in her left ear. She has also been observed slipping in her kennel and experiencing difficulty in positioning her feet, coupled with partial blindness. These issues appear interconnected, necessitating further diagnostic testing to pinpoint the root cause. Given the intricacy of her medical needs, Daisy is currently designated as rescue only.

Should your rescue be equipped to assist, we warmly encourage you to reach out. Your support can make a life-changing difference for Daisy.

Medical Notes: https://mcusercontent.com/bea45e3b23755c94f8bfc8d4f/files/f6b2ff17-9101-f90e-37f1-e6af378f81c5/Daisy_Medical_history.pdf

Behavior Notes: https://mcusercontent.com/bea45e3b23755c94f8bfc8d4f/files/e358bdb9-8f02-aa7a-8674-91cee95ad970/Daisy_Animal_memos.pdf

www.mdspca.org / 410-235-8826

Our mailing address is: 3300 Falls Road Baltimore, MD 21211

rescue@mdspca.org

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 47: February 2017

The crime scene was photographed, the body shipped off to the coroner—not that that was particularly necessary, but procedure was procedure—and Basira wasn’t answering her phone. Which wasn’t relevant to the case, precisely, but it did put Daisy in a shitty-ass mood as she prepared for her least favorite part of this investigation.

She knew who the killer was, of course. Well. Knew was maybe a strong word for it. But the evidence was good. The night cleaner—not the regular woman, who’d been very emphatic about the fact that Mr. Wright said when he hired me, not the Archives, not Artifact Storage, and not his office, that’s for the day crew, but a new girl who’d been covering her shift because of a wedding or something—had noticed the door ajar and a smear in front of it, and had followed the trail to the Archivist’s office, where she’d found the body and raised the alarm. They had evidence that Sims had stayed late after all his assistants had gone home, and most of the staff on the upper floors as well. They had evidence he’d gone up to that Artifact Storage place with an axe and smashed up a valuable…artifact. If he’d surprised an intruder after heading back to the Archives and fought back, he’d have called the police himself rather than just leaving the body behind. He hadn’t come back to work, either, so he was almost certainly on the run. She didn’t have proof yet, but there was no doubt in her mind that Jonathan Sims had murdered…whoever the unlucky bastard was.

Nobody was looking over her shoulder on this one. No supervision, no guidelines, no partner. Basira wasn’t the only one who hadn’t come back to work after the Brodie case. Two officers who’d filled out their first Section Thirty-One forms were still out on medical leave, the mouse who’d been partnered with Altman had followed Basira’s lead and chucked the force over completely, and six more had quit with more…extreme prejudice, not including one officer who’d been collateral damage when his partner had driven their patrol car at top speed into a brick wall. There was a lot of noise being made in Parliament about policing shortages and better mental health care for the officers remaining, but that was all weak nonsense and didn’t do much to address the current issue, which was that the people they were pulling in were soft, weak-willed cowards who couldn’t stomach what had to be done. Sectioned officers were even scarcer than the regular ones and there wasn’t anyone to spare, so Daisy was on her own.

She liked that, actually. Especially because Sims had run. A part of her liked it when they ran. Full operational discretion meant she got to chase them down, ferret them out, and deal with them on her own. Save the Crown the expense of a drawn-out investigation and trial, just handle it all at once.

And she had him dead to rights, or could spin it that she had. It wasn’t just this dead body. Nobody had seen Rose Zampano since Tuesday either, but the CCTV footage for that evening was mysteriously missing, so it wasn’t without the realm of possibility that Sims had killed her to keep her from identifying the corpse or being able to give evidence he’d done it. With not one, but two dead bodies she could pin on him—maybe more if she played her cards right—nobody would think twice if she said he was dangerous and couldn’t be brought in. He was hers.

She just…needed a lead. One little lead, one little hint of where to find him. Fortunately, she was set up for that.

The office wasn’t cleaned up, as Bouchard had pointed out, but Daisy didn’t care. In the first place, all the relevant crime scene work had been done, so they weren’t messing anything up, but in the second place, she’d found it helped sometimes to get people to tell her what she wanted if she made them a little uncomfortable first. Like forcing them to talk to her while sitting in front of a bloodstained desk.

The door opened, and in came the first of the three people she wanted to interview.

She’d told Bouchard she didn’t care who he sent in first, but she had to admit she was pleased he hadn’t sent Blackwood in yet. A few more minutes wouldn’t make much of a difference to him in coming up with a good story, but it would hopefully make him more nervous and likely to blurt out the truth accidentally, especially if she could spin up the other two first, draw out his nerves. Daisy knew how to play on emotions, and while she wasn’t particularly good at the small-talk thing some of her colleagues did to make suspects relax enough to answer questions, that whole we’re all buddies here bullshit, she could intimidate with the best of them. So it filled her with a sense of satisfaction to see the tall woman with the thick black plait draped over one shoulder come into the office and check briefly at the sight of the mess.

“James, right? Sasha James?” Daisy asked. It wasn’t much of a stretch; there was only one woman down here, go fucking figure, so it would have to be her, but it’d be just Daisy’s luck if the Tim stood for Timberly or some other bullshit name like that.

“That’s right.” James came hesitantly forward and took the seat opposite Daisy. She glanced at something on the desk. “Did you bring the tape with you, or is it one of ours?”

“What?” Daisy frowned, then realized James was looking at the tape recorder. “I’m not using that.”

“It’s running.”

Daisy looked fully at the recorder, and sure enough, it had somehow got turned on. “Want me to leave it running, then?”

James licked her lips. “I’d prefer it if you did, actually.”

“Fine.” There wasn’t a recorder at the station anyway and it wasn’t like anyone was going to listen if there was. She could always leave it here after.

“Okay.” James took a deep breath. “Um, statement of Sasha James, interviewed by Detective Tonner—”

“What are you doing?” Daisy interrupted.

James looked, if anything, more uncomfortable. “Making my statement? Isn’t that what you want?”

“I just want an answer to my question.”

“Oh. I—I thought you’d want…more than that.” James fidgeted slightly. “Your partner did last time.”

“Didn’t know who the killer was last time. This time it’s simpler.” Daisy clenched her jaw. “And…and Basira’s not a police officer anymore.”

James looked genuinely surprised. “You know who did it? Then why are you here?”

Christ, this woman could not possibly be that stupid. Daisy narrowed her eyes. “I still have to find him. Hoping one of you lot know where he is. How long have you known Jonathan Sims?”

“Since he joined the Institute,” James said. “About five years now.”

“Any idea where he could be? Friends, family, places he feels safe?”

James’ eyes widened dramatically. It had to be fake. She did, at least, answer the question without prevaricating. “I don’t know. He’s never really talked about his life outside the Institute. Not to me, anyway.”

“If you had to guess?” Daisy prodded.

James shrugged. “He’s originally from Bournemouth, I think. Mentioned something about it in the summing-up of one of our earliest recordings. Maybe he went back there?”

Daisy didn’t think so, but all she said, noncommittally, was, “Maybe.”

James started to stand, then paused. “Is that all?”

“That’s all. Send in the next one.”

James nodded slowly, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. A moment later, it opened again, revealing the man who’d found Gertrude Robinson’s body. If she hadn’t already pegged Sims as the murderer, Daisy would probably have pinned it on him.

“Tim Stoker?” she said, just to confirm.

“Yeah.” Stoker took the seat opposite her and folded his arms over his chest. He looked thoroughly unimpressed.

Daisy gestured at the recorder. “Want me to leave it running?” she asked dryly.

“Up to you.” Stoker didn’t seem particularly concerned.

Daisy snapped the recorder off—she didn’t particularly enjoy being recorded—but before she could even open her mouth, there was a quiet click and she looked over to discover that the tape recorder had turned itself back on.

“Huh.” She narrowed her eyes at Stoker. Had he somehow sleight-of-handed it and turned it back on without her noticing?

Stoker shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Happens a lot around here. Just leave it, I guess.”

“Fine,” Daisy said, suppressing the urge to sigh.

“I guess you want my statement then.”

Jesus, what did these people think she was doing here? Daisy bit back a growl. “I just need anything you know on the possible whereabouts of Jonathan Sims. Anywhere he feels safe, any friends or associates he might turn to?”

“Jon? Feel safe?” Stoker barked out a laugh that didn’t sound particularly amused. “Man’s more paranoid than a long-tailed cat in a rocking chair factory.”

“Friends or associates, then?”

“Don’t know.”

Daisy was beginning to get frustrated. “You’re sure? Nothing that might help me find him? If you’re hiding something out of some sort of loyalty…”

“Look, I’m not the one he’d talk to, all right?” Stoker gestured vaguely. “We get on all right, but I’m not the one he trusts. We talk about work and that’s about it.”

“What about Rose Zampano?” Daisy shot the question out, hoping Stoker would give her something to go on.

He didn’t so much as blink. “What about her?”

“Have you seen her lately?”

“No. But I don’t come in that door usually.”

Daisy gave Stoker an extremely sharp look. “What door do you usually come in?”

Stoker jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “The one that leads directly into the Archives. West side of the building, just off the courtyard there. It only locks from the inside, but Jon’s usually here first and he unlocks it for the rest of us. Saves time, you know?”

“Was it locked when you came in yesterday?”

“No.”

Mentally, Daisy fired off a string of Welsh that would have had her mother washing her mouth out with soap. It had never occurred to her that there was another way in or out of the Archives—Basira always came and went by the front door and she had too. But there was a whole other door leading in, which meant that Gertrude Robinson’s killer could have come in that way. She supposed it meant that whoever had actually killed the old man could have come in that way, too, but she was still bent on it being Sims. At least it would explain how he’d escaped so quickly and cleanly.

She took a deep breath. “All right, you can go.”

Stoker stood. “I’ll send Martin in, then.”

Daisy reckoned she would get the twitchy, jumpy rabbit she had spoken to twice before now, who would come in stammering and making excuses and be really, really easy to push into telling her where Sims was. Instead, Blackwood came into the room with a slow, measured gait and closed the door quietly behind himself, then took a seat and folded his hands in his lap, radiating an aura of patience. His posture was absolutely correct, his face perfectly blank, and he met her eyes steadily and without flinching. It was utterly infuriating, and she wanted to provoke him into an extreme reaction that she could exploit, or hurt him for in a pinch. She could smell his fear, though.

Fear she could work with.

Daisy let her eyes roam over him for a minute, then said abruptly, “I don’t think you killed him.”

Blackwood’s expression never wavered, and his voice was almost eerily calm. “I know you don’t think I killed him.”

“And how do you know that?” Daisy challenged.

“Because if you thought I killed him, you wouldn’t have wasted time coming back to the Institute. You know where I live, you know where to find me outside of work.” Blackwood’s jade-colored eyes glinted slightly in a way Daisy couldn’t quite explain as he regarded her. “And you’ve felt that weird sensation here, too—the sensation of being watched. If you thought I was the killer and you wanted to hunt me down, you’d do it somewhere without witnesses.”

The words, spoken so evenly and without evident fear, infuriated Daisy. It was almost enough to tempt her to look at him as the killer after all, but even knowing about the other door, she probably couldn’t make it stick. He probably had an ironclad alibi. And she didn’t think she could intimidate him into believing she was measuring him out as a suspect, not when he’d so accurately pegged her.

Blackwood was still watching her closely. “So nobody else got hurt, of course.”

“Of course,” Daisy said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She took several deep breaths to stop herself from leaning over the desk and snapping Blackwood’s neck like a twig. “Well then. Since we’re both here…”

“You want my statement.”

“What is it with you people and statements?” Daisy blurted.

Blackwood shrugged. “It’s…kind of what we do here?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not what I do,” Daisy growled. “I’m here to get an answer to my question, and that’s it. Where is Jonathan Sims?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not. I haven’t seen him since Tuesday.” Blackwood’s voice cracked, ever so slightly.

Daisy seized on that. Blackwood cared about Sims, that was a weakness she could exploit. “You sure? Everyone says you two are close.”

“We are,” Blackwood agreed. “That’s probably why he didn’t tell me where he was going. I know you don’t believe it, but Jon didn’t murder anybody. He wouldn’t. If he’s running, it’s because he’s scared that whoever did kill that…person, whoever he was…is after him, too.”

“And he didn’t come to you,” Daisy said with malice aforethought. “There’s somewhere he thought would be safer.”

Blackwood, damn him, didn’t even flinch. “He wouldn’t have come to me if he thought someone was chasing him, because he wouldn’t have wanted it to come after me. Or Tim, or Sasha. He’s gone somewhere nobody he knows is, somewhere people don’t know him and won’t get hurt because of him. That’s all I can tell you, and it’s just a guess. I don’t know where he is.”

“Sure he didn’t go to someone he knew before?” Daisy prodded. “Someone not involved in all this?”

“I don’t think he has anybody from before the Institute that he’s close enough to go to. His grandmother died five years ago, and she was his only close family.”

Daisy ground her teeth together. “Any other relatives?”

Blackwood thought for a moment, or seemed to anyway, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. You can ask R—” He actually flinched at that, biting his lip, then corrected, “Um, Elias might be able to tell you who his emergency contact is. I-I assume he has one.”

“You’re not helping him by lying for him, you know,” Daisy growled.

“I’m not lying. Believe me. If I knew where he was, I’d tell you, because I know it’ll be worse for him if you have to h—find him. That’s how it works, right?”

Stung, Daisy said in a deathly cold voice, “Let me tell you how this works, Mr. Blackwood. I’ve got two dead bodies, no partner, and a whole lot of operational discretion to make all of this go away. So either you tell me what I want to know, or I pin it on you.”

“Pin it on me, then.” Blackwood’s voice sharpened to a point that actually drove Daisy back for a moment. “Come up with a reason you think it’s me and not Jon. You’ve probably got just as much evidence against me as you do against him, maybe more. Obviously my friends would lie for me, why should you believe them if they give me an alibi? Take that tape out of that recorder and smash it into a million pieces so it’s your word against mine, and I don’t doubt for a minute you won’t bother leaving me alive to give a word against you. You already know I’m a monster. I’m going to end up on the wrong side of your gun at some point, so why not get it over with now? Even if I did know where Jon was, I’d slit my own fucking throat right here rather than tell you. You know that and I know that, and Basira’s not here to make us play nice.”

“Don’t you fucking say her name,” Daisy snarled.

“You’re not the only one relying on someone else to keep you human!”

The words hung between them like a physical force. Blackwood…actually looked shocked that he’d said them. His eyes widened and his mouth snapped shut. He seemed to be physically holding himself back from saying more. Daisy stared back at him, speechless, torn between incandescent rage and wanting to know what the fuck that was supposed to mean. There was, she told herself, only one monster in this room and it wasn’t her. They both sat, tense and silent.

After almost a full thirty seconds, Blackwood seemed to relax. He looked tired and…haunted. Quietly, he said, “It’s not good for any of us, you know. Outsourcing it like that. We both need to learn how to do it on our own terms or it’s never going to stick. And it’s not fair to them.”

“Get. Out.” Daisy wanted to shout the words, but it was all she could do to spit them out.

Blackwood rose without another word and walked out of the office, shutting it slowly and carefully behind him. Daisy remained where she was, seething and…shaken, more than she was willing to admit. What the fuck had just happened?

Before she really had time to gather herself, Bouchard walked in and seated himself opposite her. He looked remarkably composed, despite the eye patch—a red-orange color today, how many of those fucking things did he have?—and regarded her with a faint air of superiority. “I assume you wish to speak with me also.”

What she wished was for a very stiff drink, and for a much more simple and straightforward hunt than this…bullshit, and for Basira to call her back, and for her to never have to ever deal with the Magnus Institute or the Archives staff again, but if wishes were horses she’d still probably be standing outside the fucking glue factory with an empty bridle. She took a deep breath. “Yes. I don’t want a statement. Just the answers to a couple questions.”

“Of course.”

The next twenty minutes unsettled her much more deeply than the conversation with Blackwood had, and resulted in her slamming her way out of the Archivist’s office so fast she didn’t even stop to see if the assistants were still in the Archives. She didn’t even care about the second door Stoker had mentioned, she just needed to go.

That…that fucking asshole. How the hell had he learned all of that? Nobody knew all of that. Not even Basira. She’d never told Basira about…a lot of things, really. Basira didn’t need to know all that. She didn’t need to get involved. She had no idea how many cases Daisy had found a way to get around working with her on to keep her away from all this bullshit. Two real ones was too many. If Basira hadn’t quit when she had, if she’d kept getting into these goddamned cases, she’d have ended up broken, she’d have ended up trapped, she’d have ended up…

She’d have ended up like you, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Blackwood’s said in the back of her mind.

Daisy screamed. She didn’t even care that she was in the middle of a street in Chelsea in broad daylight and there could be any number of people around, she just screamed. Part of her wanted to do exactly what Blackwood had practically dared her to do, turn around and go back in there and grab him and shove her gun down his fucking mouth. She could justify it. It would be easy.

Instead, she threw herself into her car, slammed her foot on the accelerator, and peeled out of London as fast as she could get the old bucket of rust to go. She needed to get away, to think. A few hours or so in the woods, or somewhere like it, would recharge her, give her a chance to get her head on straight, and then…then she would see. Then she could get back to figuring out where Sims was.

Then she could get back on the hunt.

[envihellbender]

Yandere archive assistants headcanons? :3c (current with bonus Michael and Eric?)

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Timothy Stoker, Sasha James (and Not-Sasha), Melanie King, Basira Hussein, Alice “Daisy” Tanner, Michael Shelley, Eric Delano (The Magnus Archives)

Content: Yandere, abuse (emotional, physical), forced tattoos, forced piercings, stalking, medical

Martin

Remembers everything you have ever done and said. He may even have photographic evidence, he remembers it in blinding detail and will use it to back you up in many situations. However, he’ll also be quick to use it against you if you argue or he’s angry with you.

Constantly checks the find my friends app, if you’re somewhere unexpected he will call you in a panic. He needs to know where you are at all times, and he gets worried if he doesn’t.

He researches your interests extensively and spends a good portion of his wage on presents connected to them. It’s sweet, but is too much and you end up sharing finances, which results in him moving in with you. Before you know it Martin had almost complete control over your finances.

He doesn’t like it when you have friends or loved ones that aren’t him, he will talk to them incessantly and grill them about their friendship with you. He may even do this with your colleagues and family members, he is the only person you need and he will make sure everyone knows it.

Gaslighter extraordinaire. He will steal and hide your things, like your shoes, keys, phone, and wallet. He will make you think you’re losing your mind all the while making it harder for you to leave the house. Every now and then you’ll start to piece it together but when you vocalise it Martin looks at you with sad wide hazel eyes. You feel guilty for even considering it.

Tim

Tim is constantly paranoid and anxious that he is going to lose another loved one. As a result he is adamant to know where you are at all times, if you go somewhere unexpected and he sees it in Find My Friends or hears about it from someone he gets agitated and it usually results in you coming him to see him pacing anxiously in the living room. He can be calmed down, but he’s hyperventilating and having a panic attack at the idea of losing you.

Any days you book off work always coincides with Tim’s holidays (which starts to get suspicious and strange) and he always books a lot of trips away and things to do during the time. Even if you just want to spend your break doing nothing but resting and watching TV, Tim will be sure to book a hotel far away with a television and a hot tub. It takes a long time for you to realise that this has resulted in you never getting to see anyone any more.

If anyone tries to talk to you at work, or socially, Tim often somehow ends up joining in. He shows up and talks over you, wraps an arm around your shoulders, and makes it extremely clear to everyone around who you belong to.

He moves in with you a lot quicker than expected. It is mostly for practicality, you have a spare room and his contract has run out… except he doesn’t really use the spare room. You both said it would be more like housemates than partners, but it doesn’t end up that way. Tim starts looking through your mail, your phone, your bag when you get in from work, your side of the bedroom… everything. He always excuses it as an accident but if it’s harder to dismiss that way he responds with a defensive “it’s his house too.”

Sasha

Sasha is always extremely sweet, she has a kind smile and from the beginning she’s always been loving and caring. She strokes your hair and kisses your cheek, even when you’re at work or having serious conversations with people. It’s distracting and embarrassing but you know she means well, so you try not to say anything. Even when she says “mine” as she does it.

Your clothes start going missing and being replaced. T-shirts of bands you liked and are now nice, smart tops that look more in line with something Sasha would buy for herself. When you ask about it she says she has no idea what you’re talking about, you’ve never had a t-shirt like that. It doesn’t wow long before you’re dressing so much like her people mistake you for siblings.

She helps you when you’re doing every day tasks, it’s fine but she does it whilst stroking your hair and saying “what would you do without me?” with a fond smile on her lips. Soon she’s doing more and more. She deliberately turns off your alarm so you sleep in, and then scolds you for doing it like a parent.

She doesn’t enjoy sharing you with anyone, she doesn’t invite you out with her friends - insisting you stay home to “rest” because you get tired so easily (did you? You don’t remember that being an issue but she must have been right. She always was.) Whenever you had nights out with your friends Sasha gets annoyed insisting they had something booked for just the two of you, upset that you just “forgot.”

Not Sasha

Perhaps your first clue that Sasha had been replaced was when you woke up and she’d gotten rid of all of your keys, shoes, your phone, and laptop. She insisted you didn’t need them any more, she would give you all of the entertainment you needed. She had books, and you didn’t need the internet, just Netflix and Disney plus which she was happy to keep on the television.

For some reason, it wasn’t until after Sasha was revealed as a replacement that this became horrific and strange. At the time you simply didn’t question it, you genuinely thought Sasha had always been this way.

Sasha insists you work from home, it’s not safe for someone so weak and pathetic as you to take the tube twice a day, you’d get so tired, hurt, and get followed by God knows who. She sets you up a nice little work station, a ergonomic computer chair, with a few comfortable cushions, a blanket slipped under the desk for if you get cold. The computer is far better than the ones at the Institute you suppose.

It doesn’t take long before she starts doing your work for you. No matter what you write she giggles to herself and says “let me fix it”, she’d been working there far longer than you so you always trusted that she knew more than you did. Soon you ask her for help with every aspect of your job, even things that came naturally to you before.

Melanie

Dating Melanie makes your head spin, she is a woman of extremes and a lot of passion. So she goes from being distant and uninterested to being clingy and romantic. One day you’re worrying about her not answering your texts, the next she’s constantly by your side at work, holding your hand, cuddling you and kissing your cheek. It’s to the point where you can barely work and her snapping at people who “criticise” you is becoming extremely difficult. Especially when she does it to your boss.

She is quick to jump to your defence, but she also has a history of making up conflicts between people. It’s not entirely clear if she genuinely believes you’ve been slighted, or if she is simply trying to cause friction between you and your colleagues. Usually this is her shouting at someone who pointed out you left your phone in the library, once or twice it’s been punching someone who disagreed with the outcome you’ve come up with regarding a statement.

She enjoys being in charge, she’s independent so she won’t let you in to her life very often, she is keen to keep it separate from her relationships. However, this also means she ends up micromanaging your life. She decides which calls you need to make, how to organise and tidy your flat, points out when your method of handwriting isn’t efficient enough, and usually ends up doing all of these things for you. She tells you it’s fine and she loves helping you but she complains regularly in front of your friends.

Soon you don’t have your own friends, there are her friends which Melanie insists are your friends too. Except it’s very clear that none of them like you really, they don’t hate you it’s just they see you as adjacent to the friends’ group… a friend in law rather than a friend. As a result all your friendships go through Melanie.

Basira

It takes a long time to realise that Basira cares about you at all, at first you think she’s just being an asshole. Constantly getting on your back about your work, who you’re spending time with, and what you’re doing in your spare time. It’s not until she invites you out for a drink that you realise she’s doing out of affection. It’s so… strange. She’s obsessive but unpleasant until you and her are alone in the pub together. She compliments you and listens to you intently. Maybe she just comes on a little strong, you think.

You start to get nervous and paranoid when you notice police cars keep showing up around you. When you first mention it to Basira she shrugs it off, says it’s a coincidence and London is full of cop cars, right? You know it’s not a coincidence but it sounds insane, and Basira is never going to disagree with the police. But you know what you’ve seen. When you snap one day and go up to the car to confront them, the bored young man just shrugs and tells you that Hussein wanted them to keep an eye on you. It baffles you that Basira would waste the time and resources of the police to follow you.

The beatings actually start fairly early on. It’s your own fault, she’s just trying to help you and you keep making things difficult. You flirted with someone else at the pub last night, that’s what she said. It was an accident but you deserved the way she grabbed your hair and slammed your head against the wall saying you were hers. She repeated “mine mine mine” with every point of impact. When you lost your keys, she put her belt around your neck and pulled it, yelling at you about how stupid you are. How we were going to get robbed now and it was all your fault. Ranting about how someone would break in and rape you, how stupid you were, and how useless you were without her.

Daisy

Daisy tracks you but unlike the others she doesn’t use your mobile phone, she has a collar padlocked around your neck which she has a chip inside which connects to her phone. The idea is if she used an app on your phone then you could turn it off, or maybe you’d lose your phone. This way, she would constantly know exactly where you were.

People around you keep ending up dead. It starts small, you see a missing person’s poster for a guy who was chatting you up in a bar, then a week later it happens again and it’s the girl from the chip shop who had a nice smile and always gave you extra chips. You interact with someone new, and they disappear, after the forth time you try to avoid talking to people. You avoid social events, not knowing whether Daisy is going to decide someone who smiles at you deserves to be killed.

Eventually, Daisy decides the best thing to do is keep you locked away in her house. I mean, she can’t keep killing everyone you talk to (and you do keep talking to people when she tells you not to.) It’s when you’re trying to break up with her that she drugs your drink, and you don’t even notice. When you wake up in her spare room, you’re chained to the bed with Daisy standing over you. She looks sad and mournful with wide light grey eyes. She tells you she didn’t want to do this, and sighs.

Michael

Michael was a sweet partner, he’d leave drawings on your desk. Illustrations based on your favourite books and many other things. You collected them all in a box at your desk, looking through them when you were feeling particularly low. Of course, that was until the drawings started being of you. At first you thought it was just a little bit of an odd choice but romantic in it’s way. However, when it gets to the third drawing of you, you start to realise he must have been watching you whilst drawing this. Or taking photographs of you. By the forth one, the drawing is of you, sat drinking a gin and tonic, and watching television in your pyjamas. You tense and swallow as your breathing begins to quicken. You were alone last night, Michael had been away for work, but somehow he’d managed to see you and draw you despite being on the other side of the country.

You try to dismiss it, but Michael noticed something is wrong. He texts more and more often, calling you at least every hour during the day. What he says to you starts getting stranger, he’ll text you asking if you got out of the shower okay, if you enjoyed watching Stranger Things last night, and such, all things you never told him about. When you confront him he insists you must have mentioned it during a phone call. You know it’s not true, but you can’t dispute it.

On one of Michael’s work trips, you begin desperately searching the house. Your phone is receiving a mass of texts and calls as you do, every time you glance at your phone it’s a text from Michael begging you to stop. He says he can explain. You find minimum three cameras in every room, you send a picture of them to Michael asking if he cared to explain. You both decide to talk when he gets home. When he returns home he’s furious, a darkness in his eyes you’ve never seen before. He screams at you that he just wants you to be safe, he just wants to see your face and watch you to help him get through his day. Is that so terrible? By the end you’re in floods of tears, and you agree he can put the cameras back up.

Eric

You didn’t want to pursue a relationship with Eric, it would have been way too complicated given he had an occultist wife and a baby. However, Eric didn’t leave you with much choice. He started by leaving roses on your desk, everyone around you spoke about how sweet and romantic it was. You hated it, you hated the attention and you had no idea what to do with the mass of roses you had accumulated.

It got more unsettling when he waited for you after work, not moving from the doorway of the assistant’s office. He asked you to go out for a drink, and when you said you’d have to take a rain check he refuses to get out of the way. He reaches out and wraps his fingers in your hair. He repeats his question again. He asks if you want to come for a drink with him. He asks five more times before you give in, he has a delighted look on his face. You think a few drinks won’t hurt.

You don’t remember what happened the night before, you went for a drink with Eric and now you’re blearily waking up restrained to a medical table with a strange woman beside you. You scream as she shoved a needle in your arm and pressed down the plunger. Not out of pain, but sheer terror. Eric appears on the other side, he’s stroking your head and making “shushing” noises. He tells yous it’s going to be okay, Mary is just going to make a few adjustments to your body. She thinks it’s a good idea to give you a few protections against a couple of entities, but mostly it’s a nice little tracking tattoo. She also pushed some chemicals into your body, just to see how they’d interact with drugs and alcohol. Eric is going to let her do whatever experiments she likes so long as he gets to keep you at the end.

Eric kisses your forehead, telling you you’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. But the way he says it… you swallow. No one knows that you never actually agreed to be in a relationship with him.

[the-daiz]

My oxgyen. actual footage of me rn

[pajama-nerd]

So, my friends and I are playing an irregularly scheduled, episodic campaign of Fallout. Which is a setting designed to hurt your feelings.

I knew this. This is not a complaint post. I love this campaign so much, shoutout to my DM, who has an account but is like... never on here, lol.

Anyway, the cast:

Scarlett: a sociopathic Vault Dweller who experiments on people and animals to try to mutate them into something interesting and also bring back spiders for some reason. Also a sniper.

Roy: A Mr. Handy Medic bot. Two eyes, three limbs, one of which is a boxing glove. Played by my boyfriend.

Rev: a former Brotherhood of Steel member who is traumatized by the things he witnessed and took part in.

Bam: our Eight-Foot-Tall Supermutant, wielding a piece of a billboard as a weapon and wearing a pink apron with applique daisies on it. She is clearly the heart of the team, and also (technically) a DMPC. (Our DM is an experienced RPGer who knows how to handle his shit, and Bam is not a main character. We do love her tho. Hard not to)

And Alexis: my character. A survivor. I designed her to be the charismatic face of the group, and by that metric, it was decided that Alexis was the one who found everyone and brought them into the settlement, which Alexis had named Hopestead. She affects a southern drawl and a 'butter-wouldn't-melt' persona that's pretty effective in a lot of situations. She is not actually from Appalachia. Her name is not actually Alexis.

And now for our NPCs! Because we needed some of those:

Elizabeth Owens: Officially the Mayor, although the others made it a running gag that for anything really serious, everyone goes to Alexis. It's just that Alexis desperately hates paperwork. Still, Mayor Owens cares about her community and was the second person that Alexis collected on her way to building Hopestead.

Robert: Our Brain in a Jar Bartender with a Porky Pig affectation (we know it's an affectation because it disappears in serious situations). As far as we've uncovered, he used to be a part of the Enclave and (somehow) ended up as a brain in a jar 'as a last resort' (whatever the hell that means, DM!)

Wilbur: Rev's Supermutant assistant. Super unsure of himself. Recently kidnapped, and on our immediate to-do list to rescue. (Not super relevant to the story, but not...not relevant.)

Adam: a member of the cult of Atom who proselytizes on the street opposite--

Martha: a member of the Mothman cult.

They could not more obviously be in love and using their soap box hours to make eyes at each other. It's adorable. They're not in this story, but I couldn't not tell you about them.

Damian Wayne: Exactly who it sounds like. We took Batman's hardass ten-year-old son and made him our Quartermaster. He is delightfully ready to gut whoever he's talking to. We adore him.

So the context, then:

In the first adventure, someone was trying to wirelessly transfer our consciousness into synthetic bodies to live in a perfect replica of Hopestead in a Vault nearby. He had also sabotaged our GECK. We stopped him, which ended with the termination of every synth in town, which was horrifying, because some of those transfers had completed. Very sad. But we swapped our GECK with the one in the Vault, so yay. Clean water. Crops. woot.

Then we used our sabotaged GECK to blow up a nearby Brotherhood of Steel outpost because everyone in the settlement is constantly worried that they'll catch wind of our peaceful settlement and come in and wreck our shit. (And then it turned out they were part of the less xenophobic branch and I felt real bad, y'all, but consequences is the name of the game. (Actually, the name of the game is...Fallout RPG. I'll stop))

THEN a few months passed, and we got more people in town. Yay! But then we noticed that some of our citizens were going missing, and that it was all the ghouls and supermutants and some of the synths (but not Bob or Roy). Our settlement is very inclusive. Alexis was not down for any type of segregation. So we investigated and found that some of the people who flocked to Hopestead were spies for The Top of the World, and that they'd kidnapped all our ghouls, and all our Supermutants.

Including Bam.

And obviously, this was not to be borne, so we mounted up and sallied forth, and Alexis talked them in and then they split up, and Roy and Alexis went after Bam, and Scarlett went to go blow shit up (Damian had given us a nuclear grenade. Where did he get a nuclear grenade? Don't ask questions). Rev was unfortunately not with us, because his player went on a cruise with his family.

Anyway, it turned out that the Raiders had been traded a bunch of munitions for the ghouls and supermutants, including several nuclear armaments, so Scarlett set a mine and moved on.

We found Bam. We beat some ass. We fucked off. And then the bombs went off, and took out the whole tower, which fell on the arena and killed a mess of folks.

Also we received a message from the Enclave via some...floating radios (I admit I am not as well versed in Fallout terminology as I would like to be. I've yet to sit down and actually play through the series). But basically, 'The President' called us out for being a nuisance and told us to stand down and submit ourselves to Enclave rule or be destroyed.

After knocking down the killer radios, we were able to fashion ourselves a radio tower, and Alexis responded to this ultimatum by basically saying, 'stay out of our way or you're next, kay?'

They were not pleased with this, as you might imagine.

So, while the main cast was at an amusement park, celebrating Bam's birthday, the Enclave unleashed 2 Scorchbeasts on Hopestead.

...

Which sucked.

But anyway, one day I was craving some emotional devastation, so I asked our DM if I could write up the aftermath, and he said, 'sure, why not?'

So I asked him who died in the attack.

Apparently none of the established NPCs perished in the initial onslaught, so yay, but that's not the only way a Scorchbeast can get you, so then he told me who caught the Scorched Plague.

SO ANYWAY, I WROTE THAT.

If you don't want to hurt inside, don't read this.

Seriously:

Trigger Warnings: Eye Trauma, Death, Gore, Semi-Graphic Depiction of Death by Shotgun, Assisted Suicide, Blood, Descriptions of the Scorched Plague Victims' Conditions, Burning Bodies, Suffering, War Crimes (Probably)

The ending is only vaguely hopeful

Otherwise, off you go:

Three Deaths

The moments immediately following the fight are chaos.

Alexis, half-blind from staring one-eyed down a scope as the Fat-Boy went off, leans against a rock, hissing and cursing as tears spill into the palm cupped over her blinded eye. She hears scurried footsteps approach and doesn’t even look up as Rev’s heavy hand grabs her shoulder.

“I’m fine, go!” she snaps, accent slipping as pain and worry cloud her mind.

There’s a moment’s pause before Rev’s hand leaves her shoulder and his footsteps carry him away.

Alexis tries to breathe. Tries not to see the cloud of Scorch Spores drifting down from the mutated bat-dragon onto her town. Tries to take solace in the fact that there’s no wind; in the knowledge that the spores will drop on the settlement and not much further beyond its borders.

It doesn’t help much.

Who’s dead? Is a thought that rings loudly inside her head, above even her own pain. Who’s infected? Is a thought she tries to block out, and failing, her stomach churns.

Minutes later, she manages to lift her head and squint one eye towards Hopestead.

Rev paces a couple hundred yards away from the South Fence, anxiously waiting for Roy or Scarlett or someone to bring him a hazmat suit so he can help his community.

Alexis ducks her head again and spits a curse at the ground before slowly, painfully, making her way in the direction of Hopestead.

She gets to where Rev has given up pacing – where he is standing, shoulders moving visibly with each heavy breath – and leans on the gun she’d been given to fight with.

The cloud is still visible in the air, mostly concentrated over the central cul de sac that they’d designated the ‘Town Square’. It’s difficult to see through the gaps in the houses. They only have the one avenue of sight down the main street. Even from a hundred yards away, they can hear crying and screaming, and they stand there in silence, hearts thundering.

After an interminable number of moments, Rev turns to look at Alexis, zeroing in on her closed right eye and rolling his own in irritation.

“...Are you fucking blind, right now?”

“Just the one eye, Rev, calm down. Nuke Flash,” Alexis drawls. Rev sighs, but reaches into his pack and grabs a length of bandage.

“Sit down,” he orders gruffly, and at first, Alexis shrugs off his command, only to find herself roughly sat on a nearby boulder. Her hat is plucked from her head despite her protest, and she glares up at Rev with her good eye, an act that he takes advantage of to start wrapping a bandage around her bad eye.

Alexis suffers the attention with gritted teeth, but looks up into Rev’s own clenched jaw and says nothing.

Neither of them do well with inaction. They can do nothing for their little village, and it is tearing them both apart.

She sits and she suffers, and she hopes that it does something to ease the pain of her friend.

It is an agonizing eternity before Scarlett marches out of the cloud, making her way over to them. She waves them back, and they go, waiting impatiently as she sets out two hazmat suits. She treats them to a brief blast with the flame thrower each, flipping them over to give the backside an equally brief burst.

With a thumbs up to both of them, she turns and runs back into the town as they hurry over to the suits.

**

“We’ll need to burn the dead,” Scarlett says, and Alexis sighs as quietly as possible inside her hazmat helmet.

“Carefully. Bam and her new friends will have to do all the work to that end, bein’ that they’re immune to the plague,” Alexis says, arms folded over her chest in her suit as she looks away. “Speakin’ a which...”

“Roy’s w-w-way ahead of you on that one, Boss,” Bob interrupts gently. She nods. “So far, only a c-c-couple of people reported in to the infirmary with symptoms, b-b-but now that w-we’ve got most of the spores burned off, Roy’s goin’ door to door, making sure no one who’s g-g-got it is hiding,” he says. She nods again.

The silence descends and oppresses. No one says anything. They barely move, the slip of hazmat material a sharp hiss that cuts awkwardly.

“Well...” Alexis starts, and then clears her throat. “I’m gonna head that way,” she says. Her swallow is convulsive and pushes bile back into her stomach. “Rev can’t bandage worth a shit, so I gotta see Roy about this eye, anyway,” she aims for a joke and falls short, but Rev still huffs.

“Fuck you,” he spits half-heartedly. Her smile is just as weak.

“Scarlett, take whoever can fit a hazmat and do a burn around the perimeter. Anythin’ looks infected, kill it,” Alexis orders, and Scarlett nods, leaving without a word. “Rev, see what you can do about our fortifications. I know you’re down an assistant, but maybe one of Bam’s new friends’ll be willin’ to help you out,” she said.

“I’ll ask,” Rev says, before leaving.

Alone aside from Bob, Alexis takes a moment to just breathe. She stares down at the hardwood table that she’d eaten at with so many members of Hopestead, and touches the top of it, broken inside at the thought of how many people will never sit at this table again. She swallows hard and blinks to compose herself, as a subtle whirring draws nearer. A cold, metal appendage settles over her hand on the table.

“You don’t gotta do this, Boss,” Bob says, and she takes a deep breath, looking at Bob through one tearful eye.

“You gain a lot of responsibilities when you put a family together, Robert,” she tells him. Then she takes another breath, blinks back the tears, and sighs. “And this is one of them.”

She puts her arm on his shoulder servo as she passes on her way out of the bar.

**

The clinic is crowded when she arrives, but not as disorderly as expected, and she stares at the two hallways that branch off the main lobby, both a low buzz of sobbing and chatter. She straightens her spine as she prepares to see to the final moments of people that she knows intimately, only to jolt in shock at the sight of Elizabeth, who parts a screen and then folds it back into place before hurrying down the hall.

She pulls up short at the sight of Alexis in her hazmat gear and one bandaged eye, and for a moment, the two of them are frozen in place.

Alexis is staring at Elizabeth’s bare forearms, where the skin was already a blotchy gray that stretched up under the folded sleeves of her blouse, and down to parts of her fingers. There are other darkening splotches visible at the collar of Elizabeth’s shirt, and when she looks into Elizabeth’s face, Alexis can’t help the look of betrayal she feels forming on her own.

Elizabeth sighs, looks down, and then straightens.

She’s the mayor, and her town is in crisis.

“We’ve got sixteen infected so far. I’ve quarantined them as best I can, but even if we manage to contain the spread from person to person, you’re probably going to have to burn down this building,” she reports in a strained voice, and Alexis can’t speak; can’t move; can’t do anything but stare at the woman who helped her build Hopestead from the ground up – one of the two people that Alexis had known the longest out of everyone. “I’ve had everyone who came in with symptoms shower in the decontamination chambers, but I don’t know that that does anything. I’m just glad those pipes don’t feed into the main water lines.”

After saying all of this, Elizabeth looks at Alexis, chin up, lips pressed into a thin, tight line to keep them from trembling.

“The onset is fast. Everyone here is in steadily worsening pain, but I’ve given them the minimum dose of painkillers according to some notes that Roy made. Some people aren’t handling it as well as the others; I’ve already euthanized John Peters and Gretchen Turner. We don’t have much time. According to rumor and hearsay, this takes days to kill you but it damn near drives you crazy from the pain first. I was hoping Roy would be back by now with the rest,” she says, before stopping. She puts her hands on her hips and blows out a slow, uneasy breath while looking away.

Alexis moves then, taking a single step towards Elizabeth, who immediately takes a step away, putting up her blackening hands and shaking her head.

“Don’t,” she says, and Alexis chokes out a sob.

“What do you mean, ‘don’’?” she demands.

“I mean don’t, Alexis,” Elizabeth snaps, before cutting herself off. She puts a hand to her mouth and looks down one of the hallways, but everyone else is too preoccupied with their impending demise to worry about their equally doomed mayor raising her voice. She looked back at Alexis, shoulders dropping. “The one thing I know for sure about Scorch is that it’s hideously contagious. One scratch, one microscopic spore on a split lip or a papercut… A sneeze could...”

She trails off and shakes her head.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Alexis flinches, her trembling lips pulling back from her gritted teeth. “We saw them coming and I tried to get everyone to shelter, but I couldn’t...” She stops and shakes her head again. “I’m sorry.”

Alexis looks away, but not for long. Time has never been her friend – there has always been so much to do and never enough time to do it in – but it is her enemy now, and she has to fight for every second.

“How long?”

“It’s manageable right now. Mostly, I ache, and I feel as though I’ve gotten a mild steam burn over most of my body. I probably have a few hours before it becomes difficult to think, at which point...” Elizabeth says.

She trails off with a defeated shrug and Alexis nods.

“I...”

What?

I’ll fix this? That’s not true, this is beyond her power and they both know it.

I’m sorry? What good would that do?

I’m here for you?

I’ll stay with you?

I love you?

“I’ll do it,” she says, and her voice breaks as her heart does.

Elizabeth stares at her, eyes red and starting to gather moisture.

And then the door opens behind Alexis.

She moves to the side, clearing the space for whoever it is, and is momentarily buoyed by the sight of Roy’s orbicular form. She hears Elizabeth’s sobbed, ‘oh my god,’ half a second before she registers that Roy is herding a scared, huddled, six-year-old Alice McGregor, whose hands are black past the wrist, already cracking at the fingers to reveal red, weeping sores.

She looks up at Alexis and Elizabeth with tear-stained, black-smeared cheeks and gives a little sob.

“My han’s huwt,” she whimpers.

Alexis’ hands tremble, and inside, despair turns to rage.

She watches Elizabeth scoop Alice up in her arms, watches them walk away, and looks at Roy.

“Where are her parents?” she asks.

“It appears they were killed in the attack. When I found her, she was trying to shake them awake,” Roy reports, and Alexis turns away, raising a hand reflexively to her mouth and stopping just short of bumping her helmet.

Her hand clenches into a fist and lowers to her side, shaking.

“I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them,” she tells him. Her voice is low, and carries no trace of Appalachia in it as she stares into the middle-distance, imagining her vengeance.

Roy observes her for a moment and then hums.

“I will help you,” he says, before floating down the hall after Elizabeth. “But first I must see to my patients.”

**

Damian’s hands shake as he finishes the note, and he clenches them into fists, staring at the jerky last few letters. He considers re-writing it, and then shakes his head, grabbing the letter and the note and shoving them into an envelope. He seals it, writes the robot’s name on the front, grabs his shotgun, and slips out the back.

Outside, everyone is busy with cleanup, too preoccupied to notice Damian as he slinks through a few backyards and then scoots across an empty stretch of street to the house he rarely sets foot in. It’s one of the smaller ones, barely more than a trailer, really, but it’s entirely his.

He runs a lighter over the doorknob after he’s touched it and does the same with the inside knob after he’s closed the door.

Inside, he looks around, hands clenching on the shotgun.

This is the only house he’s ever lived in.

His entire life before Hopestead had been lived on the run, first with his parents, and then by himself. He’d been a self-sufficient survivor before Alexis found him and tried to convince him that he could belong here.

He’d known even as he had accepted her offer of ‘giving it a trial run’ that he’d never belong in Hopestead. He’d also known that without him, it would probably fall to pieces, and they’d all die. Alexis had been nice to him, and that had been most of the problem, in his eyes. It had taken him weeks to see the hard edge under Alexis’ drawl.

He wears violence on his sleeve like a badge.

Alexis hides hers under a smile and an extended hand.

These are both means to the same end:

Protecting Hopestead.

Protecting Hope itself.

He respects her. He respects the others, too.

He’s learned things from Rev, even though the man never knew he was a teacher.

He’s appreciative of Scarlett’s dispassionate disregard for the notions of morality, because in the wasteland, there’s no time for second-guessing, and no time for regrets.

He loves Bam like a sister.

He wishes he’d died in the attack. That would have been preferable.

But it isn’t how it is, and so now he’s going to see to it that he doesn’t become an infection vector for the town he’s sworn to protect.

He swallows the lump in his throat and goes to his bedroom.

He slaps a biohazard sticker on the door before closing it.

He draws the blinds and closes the curtains and then gets to work.

It’s easy to set up the shotgun, and he tests his trigger assist before loading it.

He doesn’t say anything throughout this process.

What would be the point?

Finally, he stands in front of his loaded, mounted shotgun.

He wipes his face. They aren’t going to find tears on his body.

His hands still shake as they pull the string around the trigger. His eyes squeeze themselves shut, and a choked off whimper of fear is heard by no one under a sudden, final blast of noise.

The obliteration of his chest cavity is swift and violent.

He feels nothing.

**

Alexis hovers at the entrance of the small, partitioned space as Elizabeth comforts Alice, who sniffles occasionally, bandaged hands curled into her chest. Despite Roy’s protests, once Alice is showered off and in an oversized scrub shirt, Alexis removes her helmet. She wants to keep Alice as calm as possible, and she knows the helmet is scary. She also knows that she is going to see a child die in front of her, and that there is nothing she can do about that except to limit the distress Alice feels in the meantime.

“Mayor,” Roy starts, and Elizabeth gives a groan.

“I think that’s about done, don’t you, Roy?” she says. Roy hesitates.

“Miss Owens,” he says again. “If you could hold her arm, I can administer the shot.”

Alice whines in protest, and Alexis can’t stand it any longer.

“Hey, now,” she says, stepping into the room and ignoring the way Elizabeth freezes. She sits on the bed and puts a gloved hand on Alice’s head, giving her as big a smile as she can manage. “What’s with the frowny face?”

“Don’ wike sho’s,” Alice whines. Alexis gives a sympathetic whine in return before sighing.

“Don’ I know it. Painful. Scary,” she says with a nod. “But you know what? Doc’s gonna give you somethin’ to take the pain away from your hands,” she says, still nodding slightly. “It’s gonna make you a little sleepy,” she stops to take a breath before smiling again, briefly. “And then it won’ hurt no more. Doesn’ that sound better?” she asks.

Alice sniffles, but nods, and Alexis nods too.

“Good,” she says, running her hand over Alice’s head and hiding her alarm at the way several locks of hair pulled away in her hand. “And if you’re a good girl, I’ll get Roy to bust out his lollipop supply, and you can have as many as you want,” she tells the child, whose eyes light up a little at the mention of Roy’s secret trove of (sugar free) treats.

“Reawwy?” she asks, and Alexis nods.

“Really. Hold out your arm, sweetie, it’ll only sting for a second, I promise,” she says, gently taking the child’s hand. Elizabeth supports the little girl’s elbow, and the two of them exchange looks of quiet devastation as Roy quickly and efficiently delivers death to his patient.

Once the shot is administered, his metal appendage finds Alexis’ shoulder and pulls her away with undeniable strength.

“I’ll be back with lollipops, I just need to speak with Alexis for a moment,” he says, before shutting the curtain behind them and pushing Alexis down the hall. On the way, he snags her helmet.

“That was reckless, and as a medical professional, I do not approve,” he says, using one appendage to efficiently brush away any of Alice’s hair that stuck to Alexis’ glove and then sterilize the glove with a spray, before pushing the helmet into her chest. It forces her back a step, and her hands come up automatically to take it from him. “You are not infected. Congratulations. Put the helmet on and do not remove it until I – your medical authority – authorize it,” he says, before floating back down the hall, already producing several lollipops.

**

It doesn’t take long for Alice to succumb, and Alexis closes her eye as Roy carries her little body, wrapped in a sheet, away to the pyre being tended to outside.

There’s quiet for several minutes before Elizabeth’s breath hitches, and Alexis looks at her.

Her brow furrows for a few extended moments, and her blackened fingers curl as she fights the urge to scratch an unending itch. After a moment, she settles, but does not relax.

“I’m sorry,” Alexis says, and Elizabeth blinks at her lack of an accent. Alexis stands from where she’d been hovering and moves to the foot of the bed, setting her hands on the footrest to stop herself from reaching out. “I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth doesn’t react for a moment, and then just tilts her head.

“For what?”

“Bringing you here,” Alexis says, ducking her head and giving it a shake. “Hopestead was a mis—”

“Shut up,” Elizabeth snaps, and Alexis’ head jerks up. “Just shut the fuck up. Whatever you were thinking of saying, whatever pity party you were about to throw for yourself, you can just can it,” she adds, before hissing in a breath and looking at the curtain partition separating her from the others. She lowers her voice, and stares hard at Alexis. “Hopestead is the best thing that has ever happened to any of us,” she insists. “You took 100 lonely, wandering souls and turned us into a community – a family – and you don’t get to regret this now just because some asshole is so scared of our happiness that he tried to take it away from us. Tried, Alexis. Tried and failed.”

“Failed?” Alexis asks, looking around and gesturing helplessly with one hand.

“Yes,” Elizabeth snaps. “As long as Hopestead endures, they will have failed.”

“Liz,” Alexis starts, shaking her head. Her one visible eye closes and when it opens again, it is filled with tears. Elizabeth sighs at the sight of them.

“I know.” She folds her arms and shrugs. “People are dying today, and it’s not fair. But we would all have been dead a long time ago if we hadn’t come together and built this,” she says. She leans forward to impress upon Alexis the importance of her words. “We built this. And we built it to last. And you are going to see that it does, because you started it, so you’re going to finish it,” she says.

Alexis shakes her head but doesn’t argue, and they lapse into silence.

“I want...” Alexis starts after a while, clearing her throat when the tears choke her. “I want to hold you,” she says.

“You can’t.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to help Roy see to the others,” Elizabeth says after a while. “And then you’re going to tell me why you suddenly don’t have an accent,” she adds.

She leaves, and Alexis sits down on the bed.

It doesn’t take very long at all.

Most of the citizens of Hopestead, once they are given the facts, take a quick and relatively painless death over slow, torturous transformation into something they can barely understand. Some want to take their chances, and Elizabeth orders Roy to render them unconscious before administering the shot herself.

Before very much time has passed at all, Alexis looks up to find Elizabeth standing at the entrance of the partitioned space, emotionally drained, physically exhausted from fighting through the pain. Alexis moves to a bedside chair so she can lay down, and then looks up at Roy as he floats through the curtain, holding a needle.

“Roy,” Alexis says, and he pauses. “I’ll do this one,” she says. He looks between her and Elizabeth and lays the needle down on the sterile instrument tray.

“I need to make another sweep of the town, to ensure there are no more infected,” he says, turning to float away before stopping and turning back to Alexis. “Do not remove your helmet,” he orders, and she nods.

“Yes, Roy,” she says. He stares at her for a moment, and then leaves.

Alexis stares at the needle, and Elizabeth stares at the ceiling.

“Are you really from Huntsville?”

“Vegas.”

“Your parents?”

“Never knew Dad. Mom was a showgirl at the Ultra-Luxe. Pretty successful, but miserable all the time. OD’d on pills when I was twelve. They decided I needed to be trained to take her place. I didn’t want that, so I ran.”

“That...sucks.”

“It did, at that.”

“The stories?”

“True aside from locations,” Alexis says, finally looking away from the needle to turn her eye to the ceiling.

“I knew you had secrets,” Elizabeth says, and then doesn’t say anything else, occasionally wincing or moving restlessly in a futile effort to ease her own discomfort.

“I’m sorry I lied, but I didn’t want that life following me around. I did...Liz, I did horrible things to survive,” Alexis says, but cuts herself off at Elizabeth’s laugh.

“What, you think I’m some kind of saint?” she asks, and then frowns.

“You never left anyone to die,” Alexis says. Elizabeth closes her eyes.

“Al, I just killed...fourteen of my closest friends and neighbors, including my God-Daughter,” she says, turning her head to meet Alexis’ good eye. “Your secrets don’t define you. I know who you are.”

“Fuckin hell, Liz.” Alexis hangs her head and shakes it.

“It’s...well. It’s not okay. But it needs to be done,” Elizabeth said.

Alexis nods, rocks, nods again, but says nothing, reaching over with shaking hands to grab the needle.

She is hyperventilating as she slips the needle into Elizabeth’s vein and depresses the plunger.

The moment it’s done, she throws the needle away, pulling the chair closer and desperately clinging to Elizabeth’s hand as tears stream down her cheeks. Elizabeth’s other hand cups the glass around her face and she holds it there.

“My name’s Zoe,” she says between sobs.

Elizabeth, eyelids drooping slowly, smiles.

“That’s who you used to be. The you that ran. It’s not who you are now,” she says.

“Yeah? Who’s that?” Alexis asks. Elizabeth closes her eyes.

“You brought us all together. You don’t run...”

She trails off and does not speak again. Alexis whimpers as the hand she’s clutching relaxes and the hand cupping her helmet goes limp. She presses that hand to the glass with her own and breaks in the silence of the clinic, sobbing and burying her face in Elizabeth’s chest.

**

It’s Roy who finds Damian.

Picking up where he left off and finishing his sweep of the neighborhood, he realizes that on his internal registry of citizens of Hopestead that he has been steadily checking off in his first sweep, he has not encountered Damian at any point. He floats to the Supply Depot, where Damian spends most of his time, and scans the area. The exterior will need to be treated with anti-fungal agents to prevent the spores taking root, but he doesn’t have much on him at the moment, and so he treats the door handle only before entering.

Inside is mostly untouched by Scorch, although Roy’s sensors pick up a low concentration making a trail to the main desk, which has small traces of fungus in a few places.

Also on the desk is an envelope, bearing spore laden fingerprints belonging to Damian.

On the front, in small, neat, disciplined script, is written, ‘Roy’.

He opens the envelope, already floating away from the desk as he inspects the contents.

He has three hands and two eyes. He can multitask.

Inside is a short note, and a larger packet of three folded-together pieces of paper.

The note reads:

        Roy. You’re the only one who can and will properly

disinfect these papers. Make sure you do that

before you give the letter to Alexis. Then come to

my house. Alone. There’s going to be a lot of blood.

The note is not signed, but as Roy reads it, he can see the slip of ink as Damian’s hand grew unsteady. Perhaps it was from the pain growing in his small body, but it’s just as likely that despite his fierce demeanor, he was still a ten-year-old boy who has realized he will never reach eleven.

Roy changes direction from the bar (Damian’s second most likely location) as he disinfects each page of the letter carefully, front and back, before tucking them into his storage cavity. Despite Damian’s wishes, Alexis is currently occupied with the grief of little Alice McGregor’s death and the current passing of her friend and (apparently) lover. He will give the letter to her later. Damian would understand.

He finds Damian slumped against the wall of his bedroom where the shotgun blast had thrown him. There is blood and gore everywhere, and Roy is careful not to touch very much of that as he gathers a few supplies.

He packs the chest cavity with towels to soak up the majority of what remains of Damian’s lifeblood before carefully wrapping his body in a thick blanket. He does this quietly and efficiently and then takes an uncharacteristic moment of silence to consider the small man in a child’s body. He knows that Damian is dead and cannot hear him, but he considers his experiences with the boy and composes a sentiment that he thinks Damian would have liked to hear before his untimely end.

“This was undoubtedly a difficult execution of a simple and practical solution. Doing this has certainly saved many more lives. I commend your bravery and regret it’s necessity.”

Silence meets his words, as he expected, and he simply hovers there for a moment before gathering the small, shrouded body, and floating away out of the house.

**

Bam and Scarlett are the ones manning the pyre when the Clinic doors open and Alexis carries out the body of Elizabeth Owens, mayor of Hopestead. Bam makes a noise like a wounded rhino and takes a few steps forward, but can’t quite bring herself to do anything more than impotently reach for someone who’d been her friend nearly as long as Alexis had.

Alexis looks up at her with one bandaged and one red, cried out eye, and then walks past her to the pyre.

When she steps up to it is when Bam snaps out of her stupor, stopping her from getting too close to the fire and gently lifting Elizabeth out of her arms.

Bam sets her near the top, ignoring the way the fire licks at her arms as she makes sure that her friend has the best spot on the funeral pyre.

The other Supermutants have taken the responsibility of making sure the fire doesn’t spread to nearby structures, spraying water from a hose on the outskirts of the fire.

Once Bam has settled Elizabeth, and Scarlett has bullied her with the fire extinguisher, Bam goes to Alexis, stooping down to give her the gentlest hug that she can manage while her arms still have fire retardant foam on them.

Alexis puts her arms around Bam and stares over her shoulder at Elizabeth’s corpse as it catches fire.

There’s nothing but the heat and the sound and the smell for several long minutes before the sound of Roy’s hover motor draws their attention.

There’s no reaction to the sight of Roy carrying a corpse shrouded in blankets, just a sense of weariness that settles over everyone. Roy, unable to set the body directly on the pyre, sets it at Bam’s feet, and the Supermutant frowns, reaching down to pull back one corner of the blanket.

“Bam, I don’t think that’s—” is as far as Roy is able to get before Bam roars in protest at the sight of Damian’s blank, sightless eyes. The Supermutant picks up the little body and holds it close to her, wailing in protest as fat tears roll down her cheeks.

Alexis turns her head, closes her eye and sighs, but has no more tears to give.

Scarlett stares at Damian, frowning.

Roy waits, and lets his friend grieve loudly for several minutes before setting an appendage on her shoulder.

“I am sorry, Bam.”

“He-he…He was muh…my friend,” Bam sobs, lower lip trembling as she looked up at Roy.

“I know. But he did a brave thing. And now it’s time for you to do a brave thing,” he says. She whines, ducking her forehead into Damian’s little concave chest before standing and reluctantly turning to the fire.

They all huddle around Bam after, as she cries, and watches Damian’s blankets melt around him.

**

It’s nighttime before Alexis has judged the fire to have burned down enough that they can leave it with Bam’s new friends.

“I don’t know about y’all,” she rasps, not bothering to clear her throat. “But I could use a drink.”

“Alcohol will only dehydrate you further. May I suggest waters all around?” Roy says as Bam lurches to her feet and shuffles in the direction of Bob’s bar. “May I also suggest that before there are drinks, there are decontamination showers?” he suggests in a slightly firmer tone.

Thirty minutes later, they sit, hair wet, hazmat suits cleaned, around a table in Bob’s bar, drinking water in sullen silence. Roy has fitted Alexis with an eye patch.

“Hard Day,” Scarlett says, and though her eyes are dry, she frowns.

“And it started off so well,” Alexis quipped without much feeling. “Bam won an eating contest, got that...mascot suit…” She trails off and then looks at Bam. “Hey,” she says, and Bam slowly lifts her head. “Where’s your mascot suit?”

“Got dirty; washed it,” Bam mumbles, and then goes back to staring at the floor, occasionally sniffling and hiccoughing. Alexis nods and silence descends again.

After they’d drunk a few glasses of water each, Roy emulates the noise of clearing his throat.

“Alexis, I know that it’s possibly not the most opportune moment, but I sense that you are suffering from a level of emotional exhaustion that makes it less likely you’ll be able to cry about this,” Roy says.

Alexis snorts, closing her eye as she shakes her head.

“What is it, Roy?”

“Damian left a letter,” Roy tells her.

Everyone lifts their head, turning to look first at Roy, and then at Alexis, who stares at the robot, drinks the rest of her glass in one go, and then gestures for him to hand over the letter.

It’s only a few pages, but that’s far more than Damian has ever had to say unless he was ripping someone a new asshole for improper handling of a weapon or misplaced shipment of supplies.

Alexis,

Words are cheap, which is probably why they’re your weapon of choice.

Alexis huffs despite herself, smirking briefly at the kid’s cheek.

I don’t have much to say, but I know that you need words in order to move on. Know that I do this solely for that purpose, because the thought of you moping around after I’m dead is fucking irritating.

I always knew that I would die here.

The world has been at war with itself since before it was set on fire, and people who think like you act – who think that peace can be achieved with a smile and an open hand – are always going to be set upon first. They’re going to be set upon by people who are absolutely certain they are wrong and despise seeing them make any progress. They’re going to be set upon by people who crave power over others and see the peace they’re building as a threat. They’re going to be set upon by people who see kindness as a weakness.

And kindness is a weakness, Alexis. Most people who are kind are not going to want to hear that, but it’s true. Kindness by itself will result in people taking advantage of those who share it too freely.

But you know that already, because you’re not just kind, Alexis, you’re smart.

Smart enough to know that Hopestead would need someone like Bam to scare away small threats.

Someone like Rev to build defenses against bigger threats.

Someone like Scarlett to take care of insidious threats.

Someone like Bob to warn you about threats you can’t see or don’t already know about.

Someone like me and my big ass arsenal, to take care of the threats too big for Bam and Scarlett.

And Someone like Roy to put you all back together afterwards.

You’re not kind for Kindness’ sake. You have calculated your kindness into a weapon.

This is why they’re not going to win.

This is why it’s okay for me to go.

You are going to take your kindness and twist it like a knife into that old bastard’s heart.

Maybe twist a literal knife in there too, if you can manage.

I have a present for you. A precaution.

Bam helped me move my shit to the bunker a few weeks ago. We used those tunnels, the location of which I weaseled out of Bam when she let slip that they existed.

The same tunnels you’re going to use to get everyone out of town and down to the bunker, so that the next time they send their attack dogs, there’ll be nothing for them to find. It’s the smart thing to do to keep our community safe. I don’t have to tell you that.

Do not mourn for me. That is a waste of time you no longer have.

Keep bringing in new people.

Keep being kind.

Keep making people care enough that they’d die for you.

Every person you turn to your cause is a poison to their ideology.

Make him choke on it.

                                                        Damian.

Alexis finishes the letter and sighs, passing it around to Scarlett and the others. Bam takes it last, but just stares at Damian’s handwriting for a while before folding the paper as carefully as possible and pressing it against her chest over her heart. Her big brows furrow and she closes her eyes and rocks back and forth slightly in her chair.

“He’s right,” Scarlett says, and Alexis looks at her. Scarlett shrugs. “Tactically speaking, the bunker is the best bet. In fact, if that’s what we’re doing, I’m going to want to get a head start on moving my laboratory equipment. Tunnels?” she asks abruptly, and Alexis sighs again, rolling her eye.

“When I found this place, I wanted to make sure there’d be a safe egress in case of...”

She trails off, gritting her teeth for a moment and tapping the table top.

“We’ll start moving folks out tomorrow. Quietly. If someone’s watching, I don’t wan—”

She breaks off as the door opens and Rev, still wearing his hazmat suit, rushes in. He stops at the sight of them sitting there, but Scarlett and Alexis quickly don their helmets before looking up at him. Roy hovers over to Bam to take the letter and keep it safe in the storage compartment.

“I hate to break up the funeral,” Rev says, and Alexis doesn’t comment on his assumption. It’s a safe one, given the givens. “But we have a problem,” he tells them. Scarlett rolls her eyes as Alexis just stares for a moment before getting to her feet.

There’s never going to be enough time to do what needs doing.

She sets her grief aside.

She has work to do.

[horsesandhockeyplayers]

When Life Gives You Lemons -- Part 1

Warnings: Mature content, abuse, rape, eating disorders etc. Some of these things go into a bit of detail. These warnings are relevant to the whole fic not just particular chapters.

Word Count: 4286

Word Count Total: 4286

Author's Note: Barbs and Lemon are back by popular demand! Thank you SO much to @hockeylvr59, @newlibrary, @itisawitchesworld, and Nora, who I can't seem to tag. The rewrite of this fic wouldn't have happened without all of you. Thank you for indulging my impulsivity. All of you can see Mark in action during the upcoming Olympics! Reminder that this fic starts during the summer of 2019. I will be tagging the Avs and Lausanne HC.

Chapter 1

“Ok, can you look at the camera please?”

The flash was blinding and while I appreciated the professional set-up, I couldn’t help but wonder if a nerd named Kevin with a cell phone and a white wall would be more efficient. This seemed excessive and far more painful. I found myself blinking to see if my retinas had detached.

The photographer fiddled with the settings for a moment, “Can we do one of your service dog too? I’d love to make her a little badge for her vest.”

I actually thought that was kind of cute, I doubt Kevin would have been as creative. “Sure,” I agreed, “Come on Daze.” I asked for a sit/stay on the little platform and waved a treat behind the photographer.

“Great, these are so cute,” The photographer declared. “What were your names again?”

I sighed, this was about to be awkward, “Clementine and Daisy.”

She blinked at me, her brain processing the names and trying to figure out who was the flower and who was the fruit. I took pity on her and clarified before she short circuited and smoke began to pour out of her ears, “I’m Clementine and the dog is Daisy.”

She sucked her lips into her mouth and nodded enthusiastically, perhaps to compensate for her previous reaction, “Um ok, give me just a second to get these printed.”

Within a few moments, she had handed us our badges and I had to admit the outcome was a little better than using some random nerd named Kevin with a cellphone. I attached the clip of the badge to the pocket of my jeans and Daisy’s to her service dog vest. I didn’t normally make her wear it, but it was my first day at the job I desperately needed and they had given me a chance despite my need for assistance so I wanted her to look the part.

Sports had always been one of my passions but I didn’t have an athletic bone in my body, so I embraced the rules, the stats, the analysis. Numbers had order and always made sense to me, but I just wasn’t quick enough to be a statistician. However, the very best thing about sports is all the numbers could make sense, but the underdog could still win. There was no way to measure luck, to measure a human being’s ability to dig within their soul to beat the odds. It was this, the human element, that attracted me to sports.

It was only after a nasty divorce, a complete mental breakdown, and facing the stark reality of starting my life over completely with nothing to show for a quarter century on the earth that I decided to go back to school, graduating with a Bachelor’s in Sports Communication.

Before that,I spent a year in and out of hospital psych wards, sedated while they tried to glue my brain back together. When that hell was over, I was forced to move back in with my parents, becoming their dependent again. I also got Daisy, a service dog to help me juggle depression, anxiety, PTSD, and all the medications I had to take in order to return to society as a semi functional person. With Daze’s help, I was able to go back to school and reinvent myself and now here I was, on the farside of 30 and almost human again. Truthfully, I had no idea what “normal” was but I had decided I was going to be it. I was going to be normal.

I was starting my life over from scratch, as a new college graduate old enough to be the parent of some of my classmates and a psych ward veteran who was probably the subject of several academic papers. I am the product of a really shitty emotionally and physically abusive marriage which left me with a slew of partly recovered emotional wounds, but all of that was still better than what I had been, as my therapist was constantly reminding me.

It had taken many strings pulled by my professors and, unfortunately, my father, the head basketball coach for Denver University, for me to get this job. Even then, I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t been given it because I checked the affirmative action box for being a disabled woman (double the diversity). And by job, I mean, this was a temporary paid internship gig and if the Avalanche executives liked my content the position would be created and then I could apply. Imposter syndrome was something I struggled with daily and my therapist had invested a great deal of time trying to teach me that it wasn’t nepotism, strings my father pulled in Denver, a hiring percentage, or a variety of other things that got me the job. The Avalanche Organization could have said no. They saw my academic projects and were curious enough to create this internship. It was up to me to keep it.

The makeshift photo studio was in the depths of Pepsi Arena, while Human Resources was several floors up in a part of the building that had windows. Having completed my surprisingly good staff photo with Not Kevin, Daze and I stood directly in front of the elevator ready to make our way up and navigate the next part of the new hire process. I was absentmindedly pressing the UP button as if that would make the car arrive faster when the ding sounded its arrival. I was completely unprepared for anyone to actually be inside the elevator, much less a herd of Avalanche players in full game regalia-- down to the blade covers on their skates.

I barely had time to register the half a ton of boisterous testosterone bearing down on us before Daze darted behind me to avoid being trampled. In surprise, I stepped back and felt one of her little furry paws under my heel. She gave a yelp and my knees buckled to avoid putting my full weight on her little toes.

Before I hit the ground, arms were around me and I found my face pressed firmly against the Avalanche logo covering a hard chest protector. To my credit, I managed to turn my head to avoid a bright red lipstick stain on the fabric of the jersey.

Daze whined as I was righted by the ridiculously strong arms I was wrapped in, and the chest I was pressed against stepped back, putting me squarely in front of my savior and his four compatriots. I blinked for a second as I got my bearings and tried to make my mouth move in a way that wouldn’t haunt me at 3 am a decade from now, but my savior spoke first, his voice quickly snapping me back into reality.

“Whoa, your hair is like… blue.” He sounded like the least intelligent frat boy I had ever come across and my nose wrinkled in distaste as I felt my eye twitch.

It was such an inane response that I forgot I was in front of a bunch of professional athletes, most of whom I watched on a regular basis and all of who could now get me fired on a whim. Now I will be the first to admit I put my foot in my mouth a lot; mostly, because there’s no filter going from my speech center to my mouth and I’m not ashamed to say, working in sports, I often felt like the smartest person in the room. “It’s actually more of a navy, but thanks for the commentary Captain Obvious.”

The four players who were mostly blocked by the pair of broad shoulders and helmet, took an audible step back, and so did the set of pads in front of me which was bad for my IQ. The first thing I noticed were his eyes which were the color of the hazelnut coffee I liked to drink in the morning. My face went slack and I promptly forgot everything I’d ever known, including my own name as I stared into their rich depths.

An accented voice that didn’t seem to be attached to a body floated across my vision, “Is she okay?”

“I think so?” The man standing in front of me waved a hand in front of my face.

Daze whined and I swallowed, the world coming back into focus. My voice sounded far away when I spoke, “I’m fine, we’re both fine.”

The hand that was still gripping my elbow slid up my arm and skimmed my collar bone before the warm palm settled against the curve of my neck. His thumb tilted my head up as those coffee colored eyes stared in my mind, searching, assessing me. It was strangely intimate and I could feel the sensation of his hand on my neck shooting through my body, and I flinched.

This time his voice was low and only for me as he misread the flinch, “Are you sure you’re ok?”

I nodded against his grip begrudgingly, “I’m fine.”

Content that I had averted utter disaster and was going to physically survive this awkward encounter, the other players started walking away, one of them declaring impatiently, “She’s fine, Barbs, what do you think you are? A doctor?”

One player, though, lagged behind. He had a grin on his face like it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one; about what exactly he was so excited, though, I was unsure. He pointed a finger gun at me, which was both adorable and dorky as he commented, “Please tell me you work for the team.”

I nodded in confirmation, stating simply, “Yeah, for as long as I don’t fuck up.”

His finger gun turned into an outstretched palm as he reached past my personal body shield for a handshake, foregoing a normal greeting in favor of just saying, “Gabe.”

I nodded passively, “I know who you are, but thanks. I’m Clementine.”

He chuckled before he pressed, “No shit?”

I sighed, “No shit. And this is Daisy, but I just call her Daze.” I tilted my head toward where she was sitting, looking between me and the two men. She wasn’t used to people invading my large bubble of personal space.

The Swede gave a nod to the dog, but didn’t attempt to pet her, “We have to get going, but I *really* hope we see you around, Clementine.”

I cleared my throat as he drug the man with the coffee eyes away, “Just Tine, is fine.”

“Ok, Just Tine,” he mimicked. With that they disappeared down the hall. Gabe was whistling “My Darling Clementine” under his breath with a distinct saunter to his walk despite the skates. I really hated that song.

The elevator had long since closed and I pushed the button to recall it; this time, I had my wits about me and for fear of repeating the previous and unfortunate encounter, I moved to stand to the side of the doors. After only a few seconds, the elevator arrived, and Daze and I entered. I pushed the button for our desired floor and the steel doors were beginning to slide shut, when I heard, “Wait!! Hold it!”

It sounded like a douchey intern-- you know the type, the guy who unfortunately was not cut out for his sport of choice so he went into Sports Management instead. I rolled my eyes and hit the DOOR CLOSE button repeatedly trying my best dumb girl voice, “I’m hitting the button! It’s not working!” This tactic seemed to work right up until four hairy knuckles grabbed the edge of the steel and pulled it open again with what my girly bits registered as an impressive show of strength.

“Oh, hey, Blue Hair,” The voice was familiar now considering I had just heard it a few moments ago, inches from my face. It was him, the man who caught me; he jutted his chin at me and raised his eyebrows when he saw the DOOR CLOSE button illuminated, “Not working huh?” He said jovially, taking zero offense. That irritated me, I meant offense. I meant the most offense.

“Did you fail kindergarten? Because this is a dark blue known commonly as navy. I also have a name and it’s not ‘Blue Hair.’” For as much as I loved sports, I often despised the personalities that played them.

He rocked back on his skates with an amused look on his face but he didn’t push a button, so I assumed he was going to the same floor. At least, I hoped that was the reason and not something more unfortunately, like he wanted to start a conversation. His lips quirked up and his eyebrows lifted, his hazelnut eyes shining with a bit of mirth I simultaneously found irritating and hot. “Great, a name, I’d love to hear it.”

World War Three was currently happening in my body. The girly bits were definitely attracted to the possibility of his boy bits, but a coil of deep loathing of everything this man seemed to be as a person was uncoiling in my belly. I hoped my expression didn’t reveal the fact that I was fantasizing about a murder of crows plucking his beautiful eyes out of his waxy dead skull when I responded flatly, “It’s Tine, your captain and I just had this conversation in front of you.”

“TIne?” He repeated with a skeptical look.

It was difficult to rein in my snappy response and I don’t think I succeeded entirely as I explained, “Yes, Tine. Short for Clementine.”

“Clementine,” he said the word like he was feeling it in his mouth. His beautiful dumb face was arranged in confusion.

“Yes, like the citrus fruit.” My toes dug into my flats and I willed myself to keep looking forward.

Sir DudeFratBoi made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat before he questioned, “Tine isn’t a name. It’s a part of a fork.” Oh he wasn’t just dumb, he was DUMB.

I was about 1.5 seconds away from having a screaming hysterical meltdown on this asshole, mostly because he was stupid but I was attracted to him against my will. Fortunately, I felt Daze’s wet nose in my palm, grounding me.

I snorted. “Award-winning actress Tyne Daly would disagree.”

“Who? Oh hey! Cool dog.” He knelt down and started petting Daze, who patiently looked up at me.

I had met toddlers that had more restraint than this adult man, “While I can appreciate your proclivity toward dogs, she’s a service dog and she’s working.”

“Proclivity. That a word you use often in everyday conversations?” He stood, cocking his head a little while he looked me over. “You don’t look blind.”

I almost choked on my tongue, “Excuse me?”

“Blind? Dog?” His tone indicated maybe he thought I was a little slow. And no, the irony of the situation did not escape me.

My hands were halfway to my temples to rub them counterclockwise in an effort to calm down before I realized they had moved, and I dropped them firmly to my sides again. Daze put her paw on my thigh, and it served as a distraction that allowed me to redirect the urge to ferally bite his nose right off his stupid face. “I’m not blind. She’s a service dog, not a guide dog.”

He shrugged, which I took as an indication he thought they were the same thing. Mercifully, the elevator came to stop and the doors opened with a ding. One of his arms stretched out past the opening, gesturing for me to go first. I couldn’t tell if he was being chivalrous or still thought I was blind.

I had taken one step out of the elevator before he spoke, his voice tinged with amused skepticism, as he supplied “I’m Mark.”

I turned on my heel and headed toward HR, leaving him and his outstretched hand alone in the elevator while I informed him, “I know.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Watching her walk away, I felt my dick twitch which was amazing, because I was pretty sure I swallowed not only my foot, but my entire leg. She was pretentious and a pain in the ass and probably a bunch of other P words I didn’t even know, but I bet she knew them. The hints of vulnerability underneath her prickly exterior made her intriguing. Of course she was probably prickly, because I was a giant MORON. I had never said so many idiotic things in a row in my life and that was saying something as a professional jock.

My fingers fiddled absently with the mic that was clipped to my collar. I knew the audio from the elevator would be in Landy’s hands by the time I made it back, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. Even so, I took as long as possible grabbing my gloves, but we were shooting promos and at some point, I knew someone would come looking for me.

I heard them before I even rounded the corner of the door, “Dude, YOU ASKED HER IF SHE WAS BLIND.” Josty’s mirth filled the room.

Landy didn’t say anything, he just arched his invisible eyebrows and shook his head like he couldn’t believe one of his players was that stupid.

Comph grinned at his phone and it didn’t dawn on me what he was doing until I heard the telltale *swoop* of a message being sent to the team group text.

“Fuck. Seriously, guys?!” I couldn’t help the fact I was grumbling. I really couldn’t. They were right, I was a massive idiot.

The chirps were endless, and by the time we had finished promo photos, I was in a sour mood.

When the rest of the guys went back to the dressing room, I made my way to the ice. That first stride on a mirrored sheet of ice was always the best and it always felt like coming home after a long trip. It was the beginning of training camp and the rookies were trying to earn themselves a roster spot. A few people still littered the stands after the morning skate, but I didn’t pay them any mind.

I was a few strides into my warm-up when I felt my dick twitch again and I knew she was around. I looked up, scanning the seats for blue, no, NAVY hair. She peeked out from behind a huge lense, corners of her mouth quirked up like she was amused. My dick twitched again, hard enough I tripped over my own skates and sprawled onto the ice. I lay starfished for awhile praying to every god I knew that she didn’t get photographic evidence of that and I decided my dick and I were going to have a conversation about the type of women he should be attracted to. My legs felt like overcooked spaghetti and it was a struggle to stand. When I was finally upright I tried to look casually in her direction; I caught the corner of her smile behind the camera and the situation in my jock became serious. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. This entire situation was so unbelievably fucked up.

She turned to leave, and I surprised myself when I heard myself call out, “Hey, Tangerine!”

When she turned back around I could see the wrinkle of annoyance between her eyes. For some odd reason I took that wrinkle as a personal victory. My throat closed again and her eyes rolled before she disappeared into the corridor.

I sincerely hoped no one was around because that entire display from start to finish was a disaster. Tangerine was her name right? It was some kind of fruit.

Normally, I could skate until there was nothing between my ears but white noise and empty space, it wasn’t difficult to achieve, but today every time the creak of the ice tried to free my mind, I felt it drift back to Blue Hair. After an hour, I gave up and headed to the dressing room to change. Everyone was long gone and I was thankful I was spared another round of humiliation from whomever witnessed my pitiful display on the ice and told the boys about it. Everyone would probably know by tomorrow, but that was tomorrow’s problem.

10 minutes later, I was comfortable in some joggers and a tshirt with my equipment bag over my shoulder, waiting for the elevator. When it opened, I felt the corners of my mouth turn up and couldn’t help the words that escaped out of my mouth, “Hey Orange,” I said, as unassumingly as I could manage.

Her lips pursed showing her obvious annoyance, and I definitely had to use all my willpower to control my dick that seemed to develop a mind of his own when she was within 100 yards of me. In hindsight, freeballin’ in the joggers for the drive home was a big mistake.

I leaned in front of her and pushed the button she had already pressed and was lit. The resulting glare earned me the little wrinkle between her eyes I was beginning to covet.

Rocking back on my heels, I stuck my hands in my pockets, hoping to hold down Mark Jr. “So Grapefruit, what are you doing here?”

She took a visible deep breath that lifted her chest and I felt my eyes drop, easily double Ds. Score. “Basically, a year-long interview for a new position. If I’m successful, they will create the position and I will have a chance to apply and if I’m not, they’re going to scrap it and I will float away into oblivion.

That seemed heavy, “No pressure then, eh?”

Her nose wrinkled again and I wondered if she would make the same face if we kissed. Wait. what? However, my thoughts rapidly changed track of their own volition when the elevator suddenly made a horrific screeching noise; one corner dipping causing Clementine to fall into me and then the whole car groaned to a stop.

Catching her as she fell into me was a reflex and I was glad mine were quick as I wrapped my arms around her. The dog splayed all four feet in an effort to keep her balance.

We didn’t move for several seconds and honestly, I was a little surprised she hadn’t flinched or screamed during whatever just happened, because it shook the shit out of me.

My voice cracked like a horny teenager and I cleared my throat before starting again, “Are you ok?”

I couldn’t see her face, but I felt her smile as my voice hit the high note and she nodded her head. The dog whined and Clementine bent to check on her. I loosened my arms and tried to subtly aim my hips in the other direction. She actually smelled like oranges or some shit. Jesus, I was fucked.

Once she had assessed the dog was ok and had murmured whatever she needed to to reassure the dog, she stood again and started digging in her purse. I let my arms drop, but my hand settled on her hip to stabilize her as were now standing at an angle. Totally, not at all because touching her made my fingertips tingle.

“Shit,” she cursed, “I don’t have service in here-- do you? She dropped her phone back in her bag and started to turn toward me. I let go of her hip and dug into my pocket, swiping the screen open, “Nope, I replied, “Zero bars here.”

“It’s 2019, you’d think the tech bros could figure out how to get service in a goddamn elevator.” She bit her lip, though her lipstick had long worn off, they were distracting all the same which is why it took me more than a nanosecond to leap to the next conclusion, “I think I have wi-fi in here though.” I had no idea who to contact in this situation so I shot an imessage off to Landy. Rescuing teammates from awkward situations and potential peril was part of his captainly duties.

He didn’t waste a second responding. You’re stuck in an elevator?

Yeah.

Landy: Anyone with you?

Yeah, that Citrus chick.

Landy: Citrus? You mean Clementine?

Isn’t that an orange? Whatever, yes. That girl.

Landy just sent back a series of emojis and I was in no mood to try to translate his inner 13 year old girl in order to make sense of it.

“I got Landy, he will know who to call.” I informed Clementine before I asked her, “You good?”

She nodded and as a reflex, I squeezed her hip in reassurance. We both stiffened and she took a step away from my hand. I let it drop and flexed my fingers a few times. I suddenly felt like the elevator was 1000 degrees and I leaned back against the wall. If I could stop shoving my foot in my mouth and being awkward as FUCK while I was stuck in an enclosed space with this woman, that sure would be cool.

Dropping my bag, I slid down against the wall and stretched out my sore legs. The rookies may be looking to get a shot at the team, but some of us weren’t MacKinnon or Makar and we were fighting to keep our own spots on the roster. I thought I had trained hard all summer, but it was becoming apparent from my aching muscles that I should have trained harder.

Clementine was still standing and looking at her phone, like those service bars would appear like magic.

“Listen, Tangelo, we’re going to be awhile so why don’t you take a seat?”

[red-archivist]

Not quite part of the liveblog but, lil post-092 hc fic :3

~~ 

As he leaves Elias’ office, Jon’s feet automatically take him down the stairs leading to the archives.

  It is a habit that his long absence hasn’t managed to break but he stops himself from walking straight into his own office.

To do so, he would have to pass the open space where the assistants work, and call him a coward but he just isn’t quite ready to see the state that Elias’ little reveal has left the others in.

  He retreats to the breakroom instead, keeping the lights off and taking a moment to take a few steadying breaths in the cool darkness.

As soon as he stops moving, the injuries he has been ignoring loudly make themselves known.

The constant ache of his burned hand provides a low steady hum of contrast to the staccato pulse of his throbbing throat.

He needs to clean them both up in order to avoid infection, and if he doesn’t want some concerned passer-by to call an ambulance on him when he leaves, he will have to bandage his neck as well.

He walks to the nearest press and begins rooting around for the first aid kit. It doesn’t seem to be where he last saw it months ago and a stumbling search in the dim light reveals nothing to him.

Jon is about to give up and just try to give himself a bit of a rinse in the sink when suddenly the door creaks open, and the lights click on behind him.

He whirls around with his heart in his bloody throat expecting something to pounce on him. Perhaps it is Tim come to take his weary anger out on him? Or Daisy aiming to finish what she started? Or maybe Elias with some other unsolvable puzzle to dump into his lap?

The fright only lasts an instant however, when he sees who is standing in the doorway looking even more surprised to see him.

“Martin,” He sighs with relief.

Martin’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to find his voice.

“Uh, h-hi?”

“…Hi. Did you- Ah. W-Was the first aid kit moved?” Jon points to the mess he has made of the open presses.

Martin jumps in place before rushing forward.

“Oh! Uh, y-yeah, sorry!”

He crouches down to pull the kit out from under the sink and when Jon raises a questioning eyebrow, he shrugs meekly.

“Melanie moved it,” He says, “She said we all had to be able to reach it in an emergency.”

“Right.”

He takes the box from Martin with just one hand, keeping the bandaged one away from his body at an angle so it won’t bump into anything.

  It’s a heavy, clunky thing and hoisting it onto the counter makes his joints sting. Ignoring the pain, he flips the latch and starts rummaging through it. A thin roll of bandages, antiseptic cream, gauze and dressing are placed in a pile on the counter as he mentally goes through the half-remembered steps of cleaning an open wound.

Just as Jon starts to unravel the hand bandage, the side of his face burns with awareness. He looks over to find Martin staring at him.

  His gaze lingers on his hand, taking in the old bandages and his cracked nails, both still caked in grave dirt. Jon does his best not to squirm under the scrutiny.

 When Martin’s eyes dart to the mound of medical supplies Jon is compiling, he also realises he is taking up most of the counter space.

“Am I… in your way?” He asks, about to sweep it all to the side.

Martin starts, as if he just remembered where he was and stammers as he turns away from him

“N-No! Sorry, sorry!”

He fusses with the kettle, taking out mugs as it boils, and does not face Jon again.

Jon is glad for the privacy. He doesn’t want to look at his own hand any longer than he has to, no-one else needs to see it.

As he peels the rest of the dirty wrappings off, they catch on his ruined skin and he can’t quite hold back a pained hiss. The burn is still dreadful to see, blistered like bubbling wax and so red it’s almost black. It weeps a clear discharge, making the whole thing reek a fluid, animal smell.

  He rinses it off in the sink, pats it awkwardly dry, smears the whole thing in antiseptic cream and clumsily wraps it up again. It’s a messy, slow process and he barely remembers to clean his other hand as well.

Martin stays stock still as he works, standing guard over two brewing mugs and, as he glances at him, Jon can practically see the questions he wants to ask in the stiff line of his shoulders.

  Jon feels both grateful and guilty that Martin holds his tongue. He owes him answers but his mouth is so tired of talking.

Tentatively, he starts prodding at the cut on his neck. It is long but shallow, already clotting. He can feel the skin around it is tender with a blossoming bruise. Daisy wanted it to hurt.

Jon pries his mind away from that thought. If he thinks about how close he came to dying today, he won’t be able to keep himself standing, nevermind clean up.

He just needs to get through the next few steps, and then he can go back to Georgie’s, lay down somewhere quiet and try not to have a complete breakdown. Laying out gauze and dressing, he wets a clean tea towel. He is halfway to raising it to his neck before he realises his mistake.

“Damn.”

“…Jon?”

Martin is peering over his shoulder at him, concern drawn in deep lines around his face.

Jon blinks back at him. He had almost forgotten he was there.

“I… uh,” He waves the tea towel, “I need two hands, should have done this first.”

He is going to ruin the clean wrappings on his hand. He will either have to do them again or wait to get back to the house and hope Georgie won’t be too pissed off to help him. Clucking his tongue, he weighs up his options.

“Um… Do you…” Martin’s soft voice cuts across his thoughts, “I mean, I can… i-if you want?”

“What?” Jon turns and sees him holding out a hand for the tea towel, “Oh.”

“O-O-Only if you, y’know, you’re comfortable with…”

  Jon stares at him for a moment and regrets flickers across Martin’s face. He starts to draw his hand back.

“Uh, yes, no, I mean, I-I appreciate…” Jon stammers, “You don’t have to. I-I don’t want to interrupt… what you’re doing…”

The sheepishness fades from Martin as he chuckles slightly.

“I just came in to get a bit of a break from everyone else, really,” He immediately winces, “God, that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

“No… no, I understand.”

  Martin smiles slightly and Jon’s feels his lips twitch upward in response.

“So, uh,” Martin holds his hand out again and Jon passes him the towel, “Might be easier to sit.”

“Right.”

Jon brings the gauze and dressing to the rickety coffee table while Martin wrings out the towel in the sink. They sit facing each other, and Martin scoots close enough that their knees brush.

“Can you lift your chin?” He asks, “And please tell me if I hurt you?”

Jon raises his head and stares into the yellowing florescent light embedded in the ceiling as Martin starts delicately dabbing at the cut.

It stings, of course. He can feel the edges of the wound prickle with pain as the meagre scabbing that covered them is wiped away. He hopes he isn’t letting it show on his face.

It is a little uncomfortable, letting someone else touch his neck. Especially someone he hasn’t seen for over two months. He peers at Martin out of the corner of his eye.

  He looks exhausted. There are heavy bags under his eyes and the light from above washes him out terribly, making him seem even paler than usual. His hair has grown a bit, more from neglect than choice. His fringe droops over the frame of his glasses.

Guilt bites at the back of Jon’s mind. Without him here, he is almost certain Martin has been doing the lion’s share of the work in the archives. Melanie is only new to the position and Tim… Jon is doubtful Tim has been working at all.

  Martin mumbles a pre-emptive apology as he moves the towel slowly over the cut. His touch is soft but steady, gentle in a way that is completely alien to Jon.

Martin’s gaze is focused on Jon’s neck, intent on washing away every speck of pain scrawled onto it. Instead of the sting of the wound, Jon feels something in his chest ache.

He can’t remember the last time anyone was this careful with him. That thought, more than the pinch of physical pain, makes his eyes water.

He blinks rapidly and rattles his brain for anything that will keep his mind off of how tender Martin’s touch is.

His mouth runs ahead of his head and he tries not to swallow too hard as he speaks.

“Martin… ah…”

“Sorry, am I pressing too hard?” The pressure on his throat eases slightly and Jon wills himself not to chase after it.

“No, no, I just, ah, I wanted to-” Jon bites his tongue in his haste to speak, “H-H-Have you been getting on alright?”

The pressure disappears entirely as Martin reels back to gawk at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. Jon might be offended at his surprise if he wasn’t too busy kicking himself.

He keeps babbling before Martin even has a chance to respond.

“God, that’s stupid- stupid question, of course you’re not-!” He sighs, “Just- Ignore me. Apologies.”

He looks back up to the breakroom lights, his face burning hot.

Martin chuckles.

Jon dares to glance at him.

The surprise has faded into something softer, a not-quite-there smile lingering on his lips.

“Yeah…” He agrees quietly, “That… is pretty stupid.”

“Well-! Pardon me for asking,” Jon snaps.

Martin’s smile grows.

“I’ve… I’ve got a pretty stupid answer for it though?”

“Uh,” Jon leans forward in his seat, “Yes?”

“Despite um, well, all of it…” Martin swings a hand around the room, “It’s… It’s really good to see you, Jon.”

He stares.

  It’s Martin’s turn to try and hide from the scrutiny. Jon watches with fascination as he starts to turn a blotchy red.

He doesn’t understand. The last time they spoke, Jon gave him nothing but a weak apology after suspecting him of murder and invading his privacy for months. Martin should be angry at him, or maybe even afraid. Jon doesn’t want him to be, but he would understand if he were.

Instead, Martin sits in front of him with a shy smile and soft hands, helping him, missing him. Jon can’t possibly understand that.

He opens his mouth without any clue as to what to say.

“That… doesn’t actually answer my question?” He says weakly.

Martin laughs. Not a chuckle or a giggle but a full-throated belly laugh. It is a sound Jon has never heard from him before. His face feels even warmer.

As soon as he calms down, Martin shakes his head before delicately placing his fingertips on Jon’s chin and tilting his head upward.

“I guess not.”

He finishes cleaning and dressing the wound in silence. When he presses the dressing against the cut to make sure its smooth, Jon can’t help but shudder.

A frown crosses Martin’s brow.

“Don’t suppose I can convince you to see a doctor about this?”

“You suppose correct,” Jon sighs.

Martin clucks his tongue but doesn’t push him any further.

Jon is overcome with the sudden desire to sit in this chair for the remainder of the afternoon, resting in Martin’s half-joking disapproval with their kneecaps just about touching.

He is also keenly aware that that desire isn’t something he can afford to indulge in.

With a weary groan, he hauls himself upright.

  “I… appreciate the help.”

Grabbing the now-stained tea towel, he turns away to toss it in the sink.

“O-Oh, uh, sure, anytime,” Martin says automatically, “Well, n-no, not anytime- I didn’t mean- I don’t want you to get hurt again or a-anything!”

“It’s fine, Martin, I know what you meant.”

He puts the first aid kit back under the sink and pats his pockets to make sure he has all the things he came in with. It’s not much.

“Right, I won’t be back today, but I’ll be in the office tomorrow.”

“You’d better not be!” Martin exclaims, suddenly loud.

Jon blinks at him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re hurt! You need rest!” Martin squeaks indignantly, “Proper rest, Jon not just a half-day off!”

“I- Wh- You can’t stop me coming to work!”

“I bloody well can!”

Jon boggles as a memory suddenly strikes him full-force. He had tried coming back to the archives early after Prentiss’ attack as well, hadn’t he? Martin had practically carried out of the building. At the time, it was just another reason for Jon to be suspicious of him. Now, he can see it for what it was.

  Martin cared.

  He still cares, whether that care takes the form of washing his wounds or scolding him for his poor work-life balance. It’s not a feeling Jon is familiar with.

Martin still sits at the coffee table, arms crossed over his chest, colour high in his cheeks. With a wistful smile, Jon decides to let him have his way. It’s paltry thanks for his ministrations, but it is all Jon has.

“Alright.”

Martin’s glare vanishes under his shock.

“Alright?”

Jon nods.

  “Alright. I’ll rest.”

“Oh! Oh. …Good!”

“It’s what, Friday now?” Jon says, “Maybe I’ll even take the weekend off.”

“Wow, let’s not go overboard,” Martin grumbles.

Jon snorts, hiding his laughter behind his bandaged hand. Martin smiles brightly and somehow, gets even redder.

“I’ll see you Monday.”

“Y-Yeah.”

Jon heads for the door. His feet are like lead weights and he already knows he is going to have to stop himself from napping on the tube. He can sleep properly once he is back at Georgie’s. It might even be nice to rest, for once.

He pauses in the doorway, glancing back.

Martin has stood up, his arms still crossed even as he flicks a hand up.

“See you.”

As he stares at him, Jon’s chest aches again. He is overcome with the urge to speak, as if that will ease it.

“For what it is worth… It is really good to see you too.”

Martin’s face goes slack with a look as soft and tender as his hand was on Jon’s throat. It makes the ache worse.

Jon turns away without another word, knocks once on the doorframe and walks away.

  As he heads for the stairs, his hand still throbs, and his neck still stings but it is the hurt in his heart that distracts him. The sound of Martin’s laughter echoes in his head and Jon thinks that this particular pain is one he doesn’t mind keeping.

[skyler10fic]

Reveal - Ch. 10: Power

Read on Ao3

Day after day, Phil and Melinda waited anxiously for the call from Bobbi that it was time for the ceremony. While they were having lunch together in his office, a week after their dinner with Daisy, it finally came.  

“That took a while,” Melinda grumbled.

“They weren’t ready,” Bobbi defended. “Past cohorts were rushed through a dangerous process. I wanted them to have full consent and feel prepared.” 

Phil raised an eyebrow that only Melinda, on the opposite side of the speakerphone on his desk, could see. “So, they failed a bunch.” 

“Failure is how we learn,” Bobbi replied. The Johnsons heard a crash and a “sorry!” from somewhere in the background. 

“But they’re ready now?” Melinda verified. She and Phil exchanged hopeful expressions as Bobbi paused. 

“Absolutely. Tonight. The Arena. Be there at 7 p.m. Don’t worry about faculty set-up; this year, you get to be in the audience and just observe.”

Phil exhaled. Well, that was one thing to be grateful for. Faculty were often assigned to set up banners and refreshment tables and such before the event and required to stay late after for clean up, which could include a wide variety of situations, depending on the superpowers conferred. 

The thing about “unlocking the potential” of superpowers in college students, particularly in the sophomores of the Secret Warriors program instead of waiting until their senior year, is that mastery over their powers took time. Some didn’t exhibit them right away, some had to build them up with training, but others exploded (occasionally literally) into their powers right away. 

The Arena was built with protections in place for this latter scenario, but typically, for example, inferno powers manifest at first as a single flame. Flyers only hover the first week or so, and teleporters don’t go very far, though they often need help being able to determine where and when. 

Exceptions were always possible, of course, Phil reminded himself as he packed away his and Melinda’s empty salad containers. Before Bobbi’s class became the first official Secret Warriors program cadets, Gordon had been one of the original volunteer test cases of enhanced cadets. He had the worst of it, losing his eyes and ability to stay in one spot. With great effort and training, he regained a different sense of sight and control over his teleportation. Others needed special care teams as well, rushing in when it became clear the newly powered cadet was out of control. 

Most simply needed accommodations as they adjusted to their new abilities. Elena, one of his favorite former students, had trouble sitting still in class after getting her speed powers. Others needed medical assistive devices, portable fire extinguishers, heat gloves to contain ice powers, or extended psychiatric therapy for help processing the transition beyond the required six weeks. But over the years, Shield and Carter Academy had figured out, sometimes the hard way, how to care for its enhanced future agents.  

“I know,” Melinda replied. Phil realized he’d been rambling all of this out loud. She placed a hand on his shoulder as they stood at the door to his office. “She’s going to be okay. She’s strong.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Phil relaxed and kissed Melinda goodbye. “See you later.”  

He taught the rest of his classes for the day on autopilot, noting the absence of the Secret Warrior cadets, one in particular. Typically, Secret Warriors cadets only missed a few days per semester, but Bobbi’s more hands-on approach meant more days out of the traditional classroom. As necessary as it was of a corrective to her own less-than-ideal experience, it created a headache for the professors managing more absences. He had no doubt his missing students could catch up, but the added workload wasn’t helping his stress as a parent either.

The evening finally arrived, and Phil set his jaw as he faced the entrance to The Arena. From the outside, it looked like any other college sports area. And it did serve that purpose for academy intramural leagues, but tonight was no ordinary athletic event. 

He buttoned his suit and took Melinda’s hand as they walked in together. She sensed his anxiety, as she always did, and rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand to calm him. They took their seats and waited as other Shield agents and Secret Warriors program junior and senior cadets filed in. A few of the cadets’ family members who had the appropriate security clearances were invited as well, though they still looked apprehensive and out of place surrounded by the agents who came each year out of duty and worked with enhanced people every day. 

Music began to play and the lights dimmed, reminding Phil more and more of a sport one would expect in a building with (fireproof) fold-down seats, a hardwood(-appearing, indestructible) floor, and a high (fallout-shelter-grade) ceiling. It was a little classier than the average game, however, as they were all in business formal wear and being offered champagne to toast the occasion. Also unlike the average game, a series of props were scattered around the floor: large and small rocks, a pool of water, a target range, a series of metal hoops, and various seemingly random objects that might draw the instincts of a newly powered individual. The most ominous object, though, was the terrigen-powered machine. He remembered the sting of the mist on his skin at his own gifting, and the fear and anticipation, followed by the thrill of realizing he’d never again have to fear forgetting vital information, or anything he didn’t want to forget. He could just choose to keep it filed away if he wanted. He remembered the relief at the clarity in his mind that felt like coming home, finally becoming who he’d always been.

Gordon stepped up to a mic on a stage across the floor from the filled seats. “Welcome to this year’s ceremony. You are all aware that everything and everyone you witness tonight is of the highest level of secrecy, hence the name,” he deadpanned. No one laughed, unsure if it was intended to be a joke. “What you are about to witness is the result of years of hard work on the part of staff and cadets, and it would be a shame to mar that with a court-martial. So on to the show.” 

Bobbi cleared her throat and tried to rescue the tone of the night after that cheery introduction. She straightened her blazer and surveyed the crowd. “You each have every right to be proud of the future agents you will see here tonight as they undergo the most transformative moment of their lives, in the most literal sense. Some of you received your own gifts from this very academy, whether as part of this program or during your senior year. I can say from experience that this program is a very different transformation than the latter, but it is no less honorable. Whether you are a parent, aunt or uncle, mentor, professor, or future colleague or leader of these young people, they will need your support, guidance, empathy, and, yes, a little patience as they grow into their full potential as Secret Warriors. Their gifts are beautiful and powerful but as yet unknown. They’ve been waiting for their revealing long enough. Now, I present to you, the cadets of the Secret Warriors program.” 

Phil lit up as Daisy and her classmates filed onto the stage. His heart raced as her eyes scanned the crowd for him and Melinda. Melinda waved to catch her attention, and Daisy bounced up and down in excitement as she saw them, waving and beaming. They could tell she was nervous but still so very brave. 

—-------------------

The cadets were taken backstage to wait in a staging room. No one touched the snack table, too anxious to eat. As each name was called out at random, their number grew smaller one by one. 

A few minutes later, an announcer shouted out the apparent powers each manifested followed by applause: “It appears we have a speedster, folks!” or “She’s lifting the entire boulder! This must be superstrength, if I’ve ever seen it.” or “He melted that steel right before our eyes! Incredible talents.” 

Eventually, Carol’s name was called, and Daisy’s stomach swooped. 

Daisy grabbed Carol for a quick good luck kiss and squeezed her hand. “You’ve got this.” 

Carol squeezed back and nodded before being ushered out the door by professors on escort duty.

Daisy held her breath until she heard the announcer call out, “Oh-ho, is that fire power? Those are some hot hands! Oh, and feet as well! She’s a human rocket, folks. Look at those blasters go. Alright, back down to earth, young lady.”

Just as Carol has wished for, she got energy-powered flight. It was so right, so fitting. Of course, Carol could fly. Of course. Love for Carol swelled in her heart and she wished she could be there to cheer for her and embrace her and share that pivotal moment together. Instead, she readied herself just in case she was next. 

She was not. The other cadets’ names were called until she was the last in the room. Finally, her name was called. Trembling, she approached the hallway, guided by one of Carol’s professors, Dr. Wendy Lawson. The bright green of the older woman’s eyes and gentle hand on Daisy’s back reassured her. 

“You’re gonna do great, ace. Just show ‘em what you’ve got.” 

Daisy nodded her thanks and stepped out to blinding arena lights. She entered on the floor, and from this angle, she couldn’t see the faces in the crowd, only Bobbi, Gordon, and the other cadets on stage to her left and a puzzling assortment of objects in front of her. At what would have been center court sat a familiar machine—the one she had seen in a black box and been asked to describe. She remembered what Bobbi had said that day, a voice echoing in her mind:    

“Each of you is like this box. We don’t know what’s inside you, but it holds great potential. Is it something extraordinary? Something lethal? Something useful? Something beautiful? Regardless, only you can decide how you use it.”

It was time to find out. 

Daisy approached the machine with trepidation, and it began releasing the terrigen mist. The closer she approached, the more the cloud enveloped her. It tingled at her skin and made her eyelids feel heavy. It didn’t choke her, however. In fact, it felt like the purist air she’d ever breathed. Through the fog, she realized it was hardening around her, encasing her in a black rock-like substance. Instinctually, she tried to move, but she was trapped. Her eyes darted to Gordon at a control panel on stage, who only gave her a thumbs up and kept to his work monitoring whatever was at that panel. 

If she didn’t trust everyone involved in this process, she would certainly have panicked. In fact, it was a little hard not to as it was. Surely they could have at least warned her this was what it was like!

Just when she was going to be consumed completely by the black casing, it began to crack. She heard nothing but the little creaks around her. A heat seemed to radiate from inside her as her body changed at the cellular level, activating whatever dormant power lie within her genes, long forgotten by or inaccessible to most humans. 

The quiet creaks and cracks were replaced by a deep rumbling. The crowd began to murmur as the rumbling grew louder. Her remaining black casing broke into a million pieces as she burst free. She felt like a butterfly released from a tight cocoon, and her arms flew out like wings. 

But the rumbling didn’t stop. The lights flickered, the rafters creaked, and the crowd began to nervously rise and look around, each wondering who was going to make the call to evacuate. 

“Daisy!” Bobbi called to her. “In here!” Bobbi ran out to the floor and guided Daisy across the wide arena floor. Daisy felt searing pain up her legs and in her arms as she tried to run, causing her to stumble and trip over the objects scattered about for demonstration.

The arena shook harder, dislodging the seats of the chairs. The crowd made their decision: the show was over. It was time to get out of there.

Melinda and Phil ran against the crowd, pushing their way to the arena floor. They only paused for a moment when the hardwood floor covering buckled slightly with fissures defacing the wood. 

The four of them threw themselves into what Daisy assumed to be a janitor’s closet but turned out to be a safe room of some sort. The bright white room was made of a material Daisy couldn’t identify, but it seemed to suppress the earthquake’s tremors.

“What about everyone else? Shouldn’t they take shelter too?” Daisy asked, confused through the pain. 

“They’re fine,” Melinda assured. She exchanged glances with Bobbi and Phil. The realization hit Daisy with full force. 

An earthquake didn’t interrupt her ceremony. She was the earthquake. 

“Oh.” She stumbled back to a bench sticking out from the wall and sat down. “How do I make it stop?” 

Empathy shone in all of their expressions as they searched for answers. They didn’t know. Tears of pain and desperation pricked at Daisy’s eyes. They were supposed to know. They were the grown-ups. They were the professionals!

“It’s okay,” Melinda sat down next to her daughter and pulled her close. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“Mom, what’s going to happen to me!?” Daisy’s voice broke with emotion as she buried her face in her mom’s shoulder. Melinda just stroked Daisy’s hair and back. 

“I’ve got you,” Melinda assured. “You’re okay. Just breathe. Deep breaths. Remember what I taught you about tai chi?” 

Daisy pulled away and nodded, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. Phil and Bobbi stayed silent as Daisy and Melinda took deep, controlled breaths, turning their palms in for the inhale and out for the exhale. Daisy noticed the pain fade and the rumbling outside the special room stop as she centered herself in the teachings she’d practiced all her life through her mom’s tai chi and her own martial arts training.    

“Hey, that worked.” Daisy brightened. She looked to her relieved dad and mentor. “So. I caused an earthquake.” 

Phil tilted his head but let Bobbi explain. She tried to put on a knowledgeable air, but Daisy could tell she was in new territory here. “Typically, powers aren’t that simple. I’ll have to defer to FitzSimmons on the exact physics of it, but there’s an underlying scientific reason for being able to do what you can do.” 

“What do you mean?” Daisy regretted dismissing so much of the science part of their training. 

“Like, I don’t just have good reflexes,” Bobbi explained. “It’s like my brain slows things down and my body reacts as if it were happening at a normal speed, when in real life it’s faster than other people.”

“So it’s more about time?” Daisy felt like she was starting to catch on. 

“In a really anatomical way, yeah.” Bobbi shrugged. “I have tried to use it for other things, but the only part of time I can manipulate is physical reactions, and it just sort of happens without me having to think about it. Reflexes.” 

Daisy looked down at her hands and arms, which were starting to bruise. “Something inside of me causes vibrations outside of me. But it hurts. A lot. I guess I didn’t realize…” she trailed off.

“Power comes with sacrifice,” Phil recited. “Not just responsibility, but a price. One we’ll figure out how to manage, in time. For now, if you think you can stay in control for a bit, we’ll get you to a medical team.” 

They were already knocking on the door, however. One of the med team members waved through the window and pressed the communication button. 

“What are we dealing with, Morse?” 

Bobbi left to explain to the medics what had happened, her theories about Daisy’s power, and the bruising. Eventually, they gave her a shot to help dampen her powers and transported them all to the on-campus medical center. 

One hour, two medications, an X-ray-like machine, and a ton of medical jargon she didn’t understand later, Daisy had been fitted with strap-on arm braces and compression knee-high socks that were supposed to have healing power. It sounded like magic to Daisy, though she knew it was some Shield enhanced-people-specific science. 

The doctor on the team, an older man who had clearly seen his share of overconfident 19- and 20-year-olds, stood above her and examined the fit of the braces. “Those are specific for you, so do not lose them and do not let anyone borrow them, okay? And one of the white pills at night and one blue pill in the morning. If you run out and need more, call my office. If you don’t rest, you’re going to break your already fractured bones harder. Sleep, sit still, study hard, and please, for the love of Pete, do not fight or compete or put your body in any sort of stress until you can use your powers without any pain.” 

“I… I don’t know how to use my powers.” Daisy blinked at him and tried to parse the wall of information thrown at her. Essentially, she had fractured her own bones? She couldn’t train? She tried to remember a week of her life where she hadn’t trained in some capacity, for the next belt or competition or academy lesson, and could only picture a handful of illnesses and previous contusions and fractures. But those had been from being too curious or impulsive or undisciplined. This was inside her, something she’d have to learn to control and channel to avoid hurting herself again. 

Or someone else.     

[mindblowingscience]

Migraine is one of the largest causes of disability in the world. Existing treatments are often not enough to offer full relief for patients. A new study published in The BMJ demonstrates an additional option patients can use in their effort to experience fewer migraines and headaches - a change in diet.

"Our ancestors ate very different amounts and types of fats compared to our modern diets," said co-first author Daisy Zamora, PhD, assistant professor in the UNC Department of Psychiatry in the UNC School of Medicine. "Polyunsaturated fatty acids, which our bodies do not produce, have increased substantially in our diet due to the addition of oils such as corn, soybean and cottonseed to many processed foods like chips, crackers and granola."

[...]

To see whether the amount of these fatty acids in a person's diet could impact pain from headaches, 182 patients currently diagnosed with and seeking treatment for migraines were enrolled in this randomized, controlled trial, led by Doug Mann, MD, professor of Neurology and Internal Medicine in the UNC School of Medicine. In addition to their current treatments, patients adhered to one of three diets for 16 weeks: a control diet that maintained the average amount of n-6 and n-3 fatty acids that a person living in the U.S. consumes, a diet that increased n-3 and maintained n-6 fatty acids, and a diet that increased n-3 and decreased n-6 fatty acids. Participants were provided with 2/3 of their daily food requirements, and were also given an electronic diary to record how many hours each day they had headache pain.

"The results are quite promising," Zamora said. "Patients who followed either diet experienced less pain than the control group. Those who followed the diet high in n-3 and low in n-6 fatty acids experienced the biggest improvement."

Participants reported fewer days a month with headaches, and some were able to decrease the amount of medication they needed for their pain. However, participants did not report a change in quality of life.

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