#or opponents seeing small hammers

[tinybunbunn]

Back at it again with Constellations fic art but this time I wanted to design Little Star!! We only get mentions of them throughout the series but I still love them with all my heart <3

I’ve been working at this for a while tbh so it’s kinda surreal posting it publicly now lol. I wanted to have BOTH them and their weapon designed before posting anything so!! Here they are!! 🩵

More designs under the cut!

These go from oldest to newest, showing the progress to the final design! (and there are EVEN MORE drawings than this but if I include them trust me we’ll be here all day 🥹)

[sukirichi]

VIRGIN KILLER TRIO !! & their habits

→ oliver aiku + karasu tabito + otoya eita

→ nsfw. smut. wrote this impulsively on my notes because karasu has me feeling things. aged up characters. toxic men. fingering. oral (f receiving) otoya is a cheater (canon but i love him) unedited. size kink kind offf. aiku hits it and quits it.

+ I NEED AIKU SO BAD. i also hc that karasu is a manwhore but he would teeat you so well <3

it’s hard not to catch sight of the virgin killer trio in every afterparty. there’s oliver — the smooth talker who can never remember a girl’s name, karasu — who reads your every move and can tell from across the room how badly you want him, and otoya — the quietest of them all. but don’t let his demeanor fool you. rumors have it that he’s as great in bed as he is at breaking hearts.

pick your poison, they said. don’t let the night go to waste, they said.

but all is easier said than done when oliver has forgotten his cold beer on the counter as he presses you against it during a party. he calls you names that are outright dirty and should not have made you this wet. he smells like smoke and liquor — like danger, like everything you should avoid. you know he won’t remember you the next morning and you’ll most likely wake up in an empty bed. no notes, no small gift left behind. it would be hard to tell he was ever there if it were not for the ache between your thighs and the bite marks he’d left all over your skin.

oliver fucks like the way he wins — luring his opponent and trapping them against him until you give in and submit. what’s the point of fighting anyway? you know it’s futile. you should just let him do as he pleases — to hammer into you from behind, his large hands squeezing your hips in a vice-tight grip. oh no, he’s not letting you go. he’ll keep you there until your thighs quiver and your head drops down to the pillow, the sheets drenched with sex and sweat. he’ll keep you there until his legs are tangled with yours, your tongue lolled out as he fucks out the most delicious moans from you.

oliver aiku is dirty, intoxicating, and when he leaves his mark on you, he only has one goal in purpose — to ruin you for any other man who comes next.

karasu is different. he’s sweeter, more tender with his words and gestures. he doesn’t seduce you right away. no, he likes to watch his prey first from across the room, letting his gaze wander to your pretty face and picturing if you’d look better when you’re finally coming around his cock. when he makes himself known, it’s too late. he’ll know everything about you already, just like how he knows he’ll have you putty in his hands by the end of the night. the only thing left is to prove his theories right — don’t even try to think you can hide your weaknesses from him. he can read you like an open book. he can tell from the hungry way your eyes roam over him that you’d take it like a good girl, and your eyes would roll back when he slides himself in deep.

unlike aiku, karasu doesn’t cage you under his arms and suffocates you. this isn’t a battle for him, because battles mean there’s equal chances of winning, and there’s none of that in the bedroom. karasu knows he’s stronger and has the upper hand. he knows you’re entirely at his mercy when he pins your hands above your head, his long fingers locked around your wrist. and oh, he’s sweeter, so much sweeter. he calls you beautiful and gorgeous. he worships you and leaves kisses on your body, murmuring sweet nothings like a mantra against your skin. he isn’t rough, but he fucks you hard and deep. hard enough you’re seeing stars and your toes are curling, pussy fluttering around his girth. and when he’s pushed you to the edge, he’ll make sure everyone at the party knows who made you feel that good.

karasu doesn’t leave a note. he stays the night and kisses you again, his eyes droopy in a post sex-haze. he gives you his number, because why not? he sure wouldn’t mind sleeping with you again the next time you run into each other.

the next time you attend these events, it isn’t the dominant oliver or endearing karasu who charms you. instead, otoya comes unexpectedly — slithering his way into your heart (and pants) before you could realize it. he’s subtle, and doesn’t stand out much from the crowd. it comes like a shock to you when you find yourself pressed up against a wall in a random hallway with his lips against your neck. he doesn’t say sweet things like karasu, or teases you on how you’re such a dirty whore like oliver would. no, otoya speaks with his words, and you get the message clear enough when he’s pumping his fingers in you. he’s quiet still, giving you only breathy moans and low groans when you squeeze around him — but by the heavens, he sounds the prettiest.

there is nothing quick and swift when it comes to otoya, unlike how he is when he’s speeding through the field. he takes his time with such confidence and patience that karasu would lack, since he’s too eager. and he touches you in the gentlest manners briefly reminding you of karasu, but when otoya looks at you, it’s different. with his handsome face above you, his reddened lips parted with a shuddering breath, and his eyes narrowed as he watches your cunt swallow him to the hilt. he isn’t the sweetest, but he is the most romantic. lacing his fingertips with yours, otoya swallows all your moans in a devouring kiss. his hips plunging into you in a way that you’re sure you’ll feel him for days. and he kisses like he means it — kisses your sweet pussy with his eyes closed and rough hands kneading your ass like a starved man.

and when he leaves, it’s with a hole in your heart. otoya is a silent killer, who comes and disappears into your life, but not without ensuring he’s more than just a silly fuck. because otoya didn’t have to make out lazily with you, or ask about your passions. he didn’t have to be genuinely interested in getting to know you and smile like he’s fallen in love. he didn’t have to hide that it was all a mistake — that he was already with someone else, and simply couldn’t ignore his needs when you set foot into the room and your scent got him hard.

and when the regret sinks in, otoya will barely look you in the eye. he doesn’t stay the night because there’s someone waiting for him at home.

he doesn’t ask for your name or number because it’s easier to pretend nothing happened between you. just as silently as he made his way to your heart, otoya leaves with a final resounding click of the door being shut.

because just like his friends, otoya never stays.

and they’ll be on their way to find their next conquest.

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Honest?

Pairing: Dabi x reader

Summary: Lying always seemed to be the best way to navigate your attraction to Dabi. This definitely didn’t aid you after getting hit with a truth quirk

Warnings: slight smut/mentions of smut; a tiny bit of blood at the start; language; teasing;

Word Count: 2k

Your foot slid across the pavement, damp concrete aiding your narrow escape from your opponent's axe.

The weapon slammed into the wall behind you, making a small dent in the stone that had been a few centimeters behind your head moments before.

Glancing up, you watched them grasping the hatchet, the heel stuck within the wreckage. The struggle gave you a chance to sweep your leg under theirs, bringing them to their knees as you jumped up.

However, the force of their weight effectively pried the axe from the wall, it’s edge cutting through the fabric of your shirt and piercing the skin underneath.

“Shit!” You groaned, watching red bloom through the cloth, dripping past your elbow and onto the chest of your fallen combatant.

A bang sounded off from your left and your spun on your heels, watching Twice incapacitate some enemy that had sticks of dynamite for hair.

Maybe the quirkless didn’t actually turn out to be the least fortunate group that society made them out to be.

The distraction was just enough for you to almost miss the haywire explosive shooting straight for another one of your comrades.

“Toga!” Your shout echoed through the alleyway, making the blonde turn her head in question, giving her just enough time to sidestep away from the projectile. She giggled, turning back around to stab her own opponent in the shoulder. He let out a cry of pain as she waved in appreciation for your warning.

Fear shot through your chest as a hand slithered around your ankle, a final attempt to overcome you that was easily squandered with a kick to the nose.

Still, the sensation of your opponent's skin against yours left an icky feeling that trickled up your spine, almost like the area below your knee was tingling with infection. You tried to ignore it, glancing up in relief to see the rest of your team similarly victorious in this fight.

A rigid breath left your lungs, beating heart still hammering away.

The stroke of adrenaline slowly drained from your limbs, leaving a comfortably sound mind that pushed you to remember the scratch just above your elbow.

“Ouch! What happened?” You looked up, quickly shielding your bloodied limb from Toga's view. Her tone seemed falsely sincere, but it greatly clashed against the carnal excitement gleaming in those golden irises.

I’m fine.

“My arm got cut and my ankle feels kinda gross."

You blinked.

That wasn't what you wanted to say.

While this was hardly the worst injury that you had gotten over your time working with the League of Villains, you were never exactly one mention any of your personal problems regardless.

It was just easier to patch yourself up unaccompanied, not to mention your underlying anxiety regarding making yourself seem weak in front of your cohorts.

Of course, most of them weren’t the type to notice, with the minor exception of-

"What the hell is wrong with you?”

Dabi, despite his usually disinterested nature, was quite the perceptive individual.

Actually, it probably would've taken someone with the observation skills of an ice cube to not notice the confusion overtaking your expression.

Nothing, I’m fine.

The lie got caught in your throat, an unwanted truth quickly taking its place and pounding against your vocal cords. “I can’t stop talking."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"I can't stop talking. My mouth isn't doing what my brain is telling is to," you sputtered.

Now you were starting to panic, mind racing in sync to the pounding of the muscle in your chest.

Dabi, however, took a moment to ponder your words before striding over to your previous combatant. He nudged their crumpled form with the toe of his boot, getting nothing but a fractured groan in response.

Sighing, almost like the lack of answers pertaining to your well-being was of common inconvenience, he moved back to you, cerulean irises boring into yours. "What are you scared of?"

The words were almost immediate. "Abandonment and letting people down. But clowns are also pretty-"

Eyes widening, you slapped a palm over your mouth, an amused grin overtaking his. "Truth quirk. You'll probably be fine in a few days."

You exhaled in relief.

Honesty quirks were annoying, sure, but you weren't going to die and your brain wasn't going to melt or anything like that.

Wait...

"Days?" You jogged to catch up with him, Toga and Twice following closely behind.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Hiding something?"

No.

"Yes."

Fuck.

He clicked his tongue, feigned hurt lacing his tone. "Ouch, and here I thought that we were friends."

You were.

Kind of.

At least, in the way that villains could be friends.

He would bug you with teasing comments that border lined flirting on several occasions. In response, you would ignore him, sending a comparable quip back in his direction when you felt like it.

But for the most part, you tried to keep your distance.

Despite your current ally-ship, you would've been stupid not to recognize how dangerous he was.

The fact that you had found yourself vastly attracted to the man for quite some time definitely didn't help.

It was safe to say that you spent the rest of the walk back with your hands over your mouth.

While Dabi had become uncharacteristically quiet, much to your growing concern, your other companions had only seemed to become more talkative.

"Who's your favorite person in the league? It's me, right? It's pretty obvious." A strangled cry came from Twice's direction. "Why do you hate me?"

Toga tugged on the cuff of your jacket. "When we first met and I asked if we could be best friends and you said yes, was that just because I was covered in blood or did you mean it?”

All of those answers were muffled beneath your palms.

It seemed like an eternity before the league's hideout finally came into view.

But just as you were ready to slip past the door and book it upstairs, somebody grabbed your elbow, pulling you towards the bar.

"Come on."

Almost having to jog to keep up with his long stride, you looked up at Dabi in surprise. "Where are we going?"

"To make sure that arm doesn't get infected."

You stopped in your tracks, heels skidding against the worn floor panels as you tried to yank your wrist out of his grip.

Of course, he was stronger than you, annoyingly so, but stronger nonetheless.

He dragged you to a bar stool, forcing you into the seat by your shoulders with a scoff. You watched him trudge behind the counter towards the smart cabinet of medical supplies the League kept around before emerging with a small container of rubbing alcohol and some bandages.

“I’m…” I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal, is what you wanted to say, but the words stuck to your tongue like peanut butter. You took a minute, attempting to find a happy medium between what you wanted and what was the truth. “I can take care of it.”

You reached for the bottle, fingers grazing the glass as he yanked it out of your grip, completely ignoring your statement. With his free hand, he grabbed your wrist once more with a quick roll of his eyes.

Even as you tried to squirm away, he let a steady stream of the liquid fall onto your arm. He looked almost bored doing so, eyes only flicking up as you hissed through your teeth at the burn.

Dabi let out a mockingly kind pout. "Oh, I'm sorry, princess. Did that hurt?"

Your answer, an undoubted 'yes', was muffled beneath a palm, the action making him grin as he picked up the gauze.

“I can finish.” You muttered quickly, almost like if you spoke less, you may be spared from saying something embarrassing. “Thanks.”

Surprisingly, he relented, but not without another eye roll, and let you fidget with the bandages.

"So quick to get rid of me, doll? Won't you miss this pretty face?" Dabi let out a humorless chuckle before moving to put the bottle back.

The comment was just for show. He was one of the cockiest individuals you’d ever had the displeasure of laying eyes on. He was arrogant and awfully flirtatious when it came to you, but it wasn’t very difficult for anyone who looked hard enough to understand that he was internally pessimistic concerning his own appearance.

Those scars littering his skin were clearly a sore spot for him, although he didn’t seem to give a damn about giving anyone who would make a snide comment the satisfaction of a reaction.

Usually, they would just end up as a pile of ash.

Of course, his own secretly insecure views made it quite easy for you to keep up the image of your general dislike of the individual.

Which made it all the more terrible when you immediately responded with-

"Yes."

If it was anatomically possible, you could’ve sworn your stomach turned inside out as you watched him freeze, cerulean eyes lighting up as he slowly turned around to face you.

"Excuse me?"

"I said that I'd miss your pretty face."

He blinked. “You think my face is pretty?"

Run me over

"Yes."

with a freight train

The horrid grin crawling over his features made you queasy.

You leapt off the chair, shoes slipping on the wooden floor as you dashed to the stairs, the sting of embarrassment nipping at your heels.

But he was quicker.

Dabi's hand slipped around yours, yanking your body back and pushing it against the wall. "And where are you going?"

Almost instinctively, your arm shot upward, your palm aching to cover your mouth. The attempt was one that was easily squandered, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and tugging it upward before grasping both of your hands between one of his own. "My room."

"Why?" The smirk gracing his lips seemed to combat with the tension blazing in his eyes, quiet anxiety brewing for your answer, the one you would be forced to give.

"Because I like you and don't want you to know."

The silence that followed made you want to vomit, eyes burning with tears that you willed not to fall.

And then he was kissing you.

Fingers strewn through your hair, he pressed his mouth against yours, swallowing the gasp that followed his actions.

Your eyes flit to a close as you let Dabi take you, his hands slipping from yours to snake around your waist and push your hips together. Warmth sparks between your legs as his touch dipped dangerously beneath your pelvis.

A groan was forced passed your lips as he gave your left thigh a squeeze, smirking as he pulled away, palm still cradling your chin. "If you told me, we could've done this a lot sooner, ya know."

"Bullshit," You scoffed. "If you didn't feel the same, you would've been an asshole. You're always an asshole, actually."

Leaning forward, his breath tickled the side of your neck. You felt him grin, teeth nipping at the top of your ear. "Maybe, but I don't seem to have any issues turning you on. Isn't that right?"

"Yes." You looked down with a huff, shuffling your feet. "Whatever..."

He intertwined his fingers with your own. "Oh, come on, doll. No need to be embarrassed." With a small tug, he dragged you towards the hallway, barely missing the blue haired individual holding a glass of whiskey walking past.

Shigaraki raised his cup. "Where the hell are you two going?"

Dabi glanced down at you, a smile gracing his lips. "I don't know, princess. Where do you think we’re going?"

You were smart enough to know, but you sure as hell didn't want to say it.

Unfortunately, the man standing next to you didn't seem to care in the slightest.

"To fuck, probably."

The sound of your fearless leader choking followed you both up the stairs, your curses of annoyance bouncing off the decrepit walls and into his room, the door slamming shut with a bang.

[swallowtail-lotus]

Reincarnated Lover {Thor/Poseidon/Heracles}

Thor⚡-

Thor had originally thought he was hallucinating the second he saw his opponent.

After knowing he wasn't, he was more confused. Why did you look like her, his deceased love? More importantly, why was your aura the same as her?

His question was answered when you punched his stomach.

The spark in your eyes, you held the same ones. The god of thunder was sent back. But he didn't move.

He's fully convinced his love has reincarnated as you.

To everyone's surprise, he lowered his hammer.

He's never harmed his love this way when she was alive, why do it now?

He made Heimdall cancel the match and went after you. You turned around, seeing him looking down at you. He grabbed your hand and held it tight.

All of the memories came flooding in. Your eyes were wide with shock, both your smaller hands now cupping his hand.

"Love?" You whispered. Thor simply nodded, a small smile on his face. You quickly hugged him, laughing and crying. Thor returned the embrace, kissing your forehead.

He lost you before, and he wasn't planning on letting it happen again any time soon.

Poseidon🔱-

He didn't see the point in fighting when he knew he'll win.

But that thought went away when you stepped in the arena, your face as calm as his own.

The king of the seas was shook. He knew he wasn't seeing things. You look exactly like his past lover, who had  passed away thousands of years ago.

A part of him told him not to harm you, to not kill you.

And so he lowered his trident and left the arena, not caring about what the other deities had to say.

After that, you searched for the god and found him at the beach. You reluctantly approached him, lowering yourself down on your knees. You should've feared the god, but you couldn't.

You rested your hand on top of his, the physical contact both bringing back memories and got Poseidon's attention. Tears came pouring as you held his hand.

"I'm sorry for leaving you so soon." You rested your head on his shoulder. Poseidon didn't push you away and instead pulled you closer. He kept silent,  the sounds of waves crashing down calming him down.

"Don't be." That was all that left his lips. For the first time after his past lover's death, he felt... Happy. Happy to be reunited with her once again, just in another way.

Heracles🦁-

He felt his heart drop the moment you stepped in.

Everything about you reminded him of his love, from your beauty to your aura.

During the fight, everyone can see how he was hesitating, not hitting you at all.

Only a few can notice the sad look on his face.

You were going in for the final strike, but was brought in an embrace that oddly felt familiar to you.

"It's been too long..." The demigod's arms tighten around your small form. This sparked a memory from long ago, where Heracles always gave you hugs when he came back from his adventures. You began to sob in his chest, hugging him back.

"I've missed you, My love." You choked out, looking into the demigod's eyes. Heracles surrendered, and carried you away in his arms.

[kafkaesque22girlfriend]

The Damned Part 2

Toji Zenin x fem! reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

mentions of blood, child abuse, Toji being Toji.

Training for Toji was as gruelling as ever, blood splattered the stone-cold courtyard, the cursed spirits and the sparring he was engaging in combat messed up his straying mind as much as his stupidly strong body. He was angry and frustrated, but when wasn't he? He couldn't help but wonder if it was the interaction from earlier, this weird push and pull he had with his servant, that made him more in his head than usual.

But by the end of it, he pulled through without dying or losing too much blood, he was strong like that. His opponents withdrew. Yet by God's will, his family only saw weakness and inferiority. All he was met with was with disgust. At this point, he felt-numb. The same old thing. Training. Abuse. Blood. Humiliation. So much blood. It was the only thing he knew. Yet despite that, there was that small thing that was piercing his usual thought pattern.

After training was finished, Toji's body felt brittle and exhausted, no bones were broken today though. He was covered in blood, his own or someone else's, he's not sure, nor does he care. He trudged up to his room, desperate to clean himself up and just leave another shitty day behind before it came for him again. When he opened his door, he was greeted with the sight of you folding his laundry, and cleaning his room. He saw your eyes widen and your voice gets lost in your throat as you both stared at each other for a moment.

“Are you okay?” You whisper reluctantly. He looked like hell like he was dragged into the pits of it. Blood adorned him in pearls. It seemed destitute to ask at this point, but every day after training.. you always do. That felt slightly off track though.

His penetrating stare met yours, the first thing he noticed was your eyes, the way they widened with that concern that it always does. What he didn't understand was why his eyes flitted to your lips momentarily, they were slightly agape...only just. They were full. And...shaped. Toji quickly cleared his throat and snapped out of his head, reverting cold as per. “I'm fine.” He said curtly, with a grunt.

“Do you need the nurse?” You ask, it was routine at this point.

“No.” He grunted simply.

You observed him, he's never come back like this before, not for a long time and he was playing it off like he was fine.

“Let me run you a shower.” You offer politely. You knew he wanted you to be rude to him, to not give a single damn about him but you really couldn't when he was this beat up. He glares at you, those blazing green eyes ready to lash out as blood streams down his forehead, but before he can, you speak. “I swear to God if you tell me to be a heartless monster to you right now when you're covered in blood I'll kick you in the face.” Your words came out unexpectedly from your mouth. But with him, you always had to hammer in your point in a way he could understand: violence. The thought soured you slightly.

Now this...for Toji, was a surprise.

“Kick me in the face?” He scoffed. He felt the need to test you, to let you know what kind of a man he was.“Do it. You'll be dead as soon as you graze me.”

You knew his threat was all too genuine, he was perfectly capable of being a murder machine to someone like you, he wouldn't even think twice about it. Instead of dwelling on that, you grab him by the arm and drag him to his en suite bathroom. “ I know better than to kick a man while he's down.” You grumble, brows pinching together... you've never been so direct with him before, never this challenging. He should have killed you just for grabbing him like that, but Toji held back, letting you do this. That touch of yours, gentle yet firm. Interesting.

Toji watches your fingers start the shower, you even hand him a clean towel, freshly laundered. He watches your gaze soften as you see the extent of his bruises and cuts. You muster out a soft smile and close the bathroom door. Toji's face remained the same as he grunted, carefully peeling off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The water soothed his exhausted body from the blood caked to his skin, he stood there, thinking.

Thinking, nothing and everything.

He wondered for a moment if he was that much of a monster in his past life to deserve this one.

He wondered if his mother ever decided to speak to him again.. would he run into her arms and beg to be loved by her?

He wondered if his father would beat him as he did a boy if he ever saw him like this now.

He wondered if you pitied him, as his servant, you saw it all...

He wondered if your tongue could be sharp when provoked.

He wondered if those gentle lips...could…

Toji snapped out of it after a few moments, he took a deep breath and frowned. He turned the shower off and stepped out of it, drying himself with the towel too. He noticed a fresh pair of clothes on the sink and put them on, his hair still slightly damp even after fluffing it with a towel.

As he exited the bathroom, you turned around from your folding and blinked up at him, acutely dazed. That black compression shirt was a staple for a reason, it was simple and comfortable...and he seemed good with it.

“I've almost finished your laundry. I'll be done soon.”You tell him.

Your voice brought this unwanted feeling to his gut, he didn't want to think about it. Instead, he gave you the appropriate response, he just nodded and spoke with a harsh voice. 'Don't take too long then.' Toji sat on his bed, clearly exhausted, lifting his shirt to examine the cuts and bruises...maybe he did need stitches. You glance at his bare torso and swallow thickly. “How was training...?” You mutter, trying to make polite conversation.

Toji watched you work from the corner of his eye, seeing your fingers fold up clothes perfectly, without creases with such ease. Those band-aids on your fingers though still got him wondering why the hell you were lying to him. You were pretty perfect at doing these tasks...yet you were clumsy and burned yourself? Toji didn't like that he was reading so much into it, he didn't care.

“Training was usual. The only thing that keeps me sane is the fact that I'll be away from you.” He muttered huskily with an indignant frown.

You grimaced at him, your expression becoming defeated but you covered it up expertly. Your brows furrow as you keep a stiff upper lip.

“Sorry for prying then.” You say firmly as you take the basket and head out of his room.

Your soft eyes met with his one last time when you closed the door. The door being closed meant that he could let himself go, so he could think. God, his brain was so loud yet his body was so numb, it was torture...he desperately needed to alleviate the pain. Yet he didn't want to, would he rather feel it all… Or slowly become nothing...an empty hollow of a person. He would choose mind-piercing pain, for now, he can't lose his soul just yet.

-

It was almost dinner time.

You were preparing Toji's food as the wind howled outside, the beautiful moonlight peering through the panes. It was beautiful and for a moment, you felt as if you weren't in the Zenin Compound. You bent over the kitchen island, snacking on a few berries you picked from the garden as you were ticking off the tasks you had done today. You lick the strawberry juice off of your fingers as you were absolved in your list. Toji raised his brow as he watched you from the doorframe, seeing your mouth tinted with the red of the berries, looking the most carefree he had ever seen you. You glance up for a split second and jolt up, a little embarrassed from how casual you were in his presence. Toji found this slightly amusing but he kept a straight face.

You glance over at the basket of freshly picked fruit from the Zenin garden. “I picked these from the garden, they looked delicious, I couldn't help myself.” You chuckle nervously, finding your mouth to be explaining yourself for no obvious reason. He sits on the kitchen island stool in front of you as you plate his food and give it to him.

Toji didn't speak. And it made you even more worried than usual.

‘Maybe you should go see the nurse. Your bruises and cuts seem quite bad.’ You say under your breath, honestly hoping he wouldn't hear you as you start cleaning up the kitchen. You popped a blueberry in your mouth as you regarded him with those intent yet soft eyes. He glanced at your lips as you took in the small fruit. He needed a moment to stop thinking about that and focus on your comment.

“I said I'm fine. So I'm fine.” He grunted lowly, irritation smothering his features.

You pause for a second to think about how to approach this, and you sigh. “Okay. I'll trust you.” The words were soft as they left your mouth, yet your face was still pretty nervous. Toji's presence was just...overwhelming. You finish washing the plates and decide to treat yourself to a glass of wine, you knew you shouldn't really be doing that, but you were so nervous in front of him that you needed a drink to calm yourself down.

Toji watched you and didn't say anything, even though he should. The wine tinted your lips as you pull away from the rim of the glass. It soaked in on those...full lips. He looked away when he noticed himself staring, but his thoughts didn't disappear. You were surprised when he didn't scold you for drinking but he glared at you, not in his usual intimidating way, but as if he was inspecting your face.

“Are you okay? Do I have something on my face?” You rubbed your fingers over your lips, wondering if you had wine dribbling all over you that you were too nervous to notice.

“No..No, you don't have anything on your face.” He responded lowly, not even sparing you another look.

“Oh, okay.” You wipe your lips again anyway. The silence between you both was getting thicker and all you wanted was an out on the situation. “Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.” You say politely as you begin making your way to head out.

When you spoke, it got him out of his thoughts. However, he did feel a sense of disappointment when you said you'd go to bed now. He wanted you to stay, for some reason he didn’t care to identify.

"No. Stay. Sit." He ordered bluntly, but his face softened when his head motioned towards the stool next to him.

You gulp slightly, you hesitantly listen to his orders as you sit yourself politely beside him on the stool. “Oh. Okay. Why?” You ask curiously.

“Because I don’t want to be alone right now.” Toji’s face was stoic as those out of character words fell from his lips, as if he was dying to say them. Toji couldn’t really grasp that he said that himself.

“Oh…” You let out softly. This was the first time he was being this way with you, letting you know how he actually felt…Wow. “If that’s what you want…”

The fact that you didn't run away or ignore him felt…different.... And now, with you staying, you were within arm's reach from him. He immediately leaned forward to lean on his arm. He noticed you were nervous and he sighed out. "Just sit and relax, yeah?"

Your eyes widened, unable to contain their shock at his…odd gentleness. Why was he acting this way? Did he just want you to sit still and be quiet? What was it he wanted from you?

What was worse was that your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“I know you always say you can do everything yourself but…why do I get the feeling that that is not true?” You ask him wearily, staring into his forest green eyes. Your demeanour was oddly serious as you asked him such a thing.

Your tone made him raise a brow, you seemed like you were genuinely worried about him. He hated that feeling. Your eyes locked onto his and all he could do now was stare at you. You looked so…concerned with that worried look on your face, and yet he couldn't bring himself to even speak a single word. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up. His tone was stern. “What are you talking about?"

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re here wounded and in pain, yet you convince me and yourself you don’t need to see the nurse, why do you do that?” You ask softly, glancing at him. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to question him like this but your curiosity outwon you.

His brows lowered at you, his tone taking on an annoyed and angry tone. How dare you worry about him. How dare you think he couldn't handle being bloodied and bruised. After the hell, he’s been through, it was all he could handle at this point. “I said I don't need to see the nurse. I don't. Do you think I'm some weak ass who can't handle any pain and suffering?"

You feel his anger radiating off of him. “No. Not at all.” Your eyes widen, taken aback. “I-I know you can…it’s just…” You trail off. But in that moment, you slowly stand up from your stool and reluctantly place your fingers under his chin, looking down at him. You trace the bruise on his temple and eyebrow softly. “You’re always covered in blood…why are you always covered in blood?” Yoy whisper, you know exactly why, it was a rhetorical question but it hit him hard.

The feeling of your fingers on his face made his breath catch in his throat, he stilled into your touch and tensed up. A large majority of him wanted to slap your hand away and break it and just lash out at you for doing such a thing….Yet…you looked so beautiful and so worried...And of course, that was a thought he was trying to stay away from. But the way you whispered your words…felt like daggers through him, like he was being torn apart. “I'm a Zenin. Bloody and bruised is... Not unusual for me...”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” You say softly, eyes glazed over in concern and pull your hand away from him and walk away. You walk up the stairs and into yourservant quarters, ready to sleep this weird day away.

Your touch sent so many emotions through him and now that you were walking away, it felt like a wave of disappointment and anger and hatred ran through him. He tried to shake it off and keep a stoic demeanor on, but... He suddenly wasn't feeling so stoic. Your concern was just so genuine.

He fucking hated it.

-

taglist (mwah!): @wo-ming-bai @xduskydollx

[darksilvania]

PRAWNIARD [Pawniard + Prawn] Water/Fighting The Shrimp Pokemon Abilities: Moxie/Hyper Cutter - Tough Claws (HA) Dex: "They patrol the ocean floor in small gangs, comprised of several PRAWNIARDS and a single EBISHARP, very similar to its surface counterparts. Their pincers are extremely sharp, even when closed, resembling blades, but what makes them specially dangerous is the speed with wich they use them. PRAWNIARDs are know for constantly training the speed of they slashes, until they claws become faster than the eye can see.” Moveset: -Karate Chop -Jet Punch -Fury Cutter -Sword Dance

EBISHARP [Bisharp + Ebi (Shrimp in Japanese)] Water/Fighting The Pistol Shrimp Pokemon ->Evolves from PRAWNIARD after learning BOILING HOOK<- Abilities: Moxie/Hyper Cutter - Tough Claws (HA) Dex: "It leads a squad of PRAWNIARDs and controls a small territory under the command of a powerful KINGAMBA Its claws can deliver blows at speeds above the speed of sound, this punches are so fast they make the water around them boil.” Moveset: -Boiling Hook: Fighting type / pwr 90 / acc 95 / pp 10 “The user launches a punch at such a speed the water around its fist boils up.” -This might leave the opponent burn -This move power is boosted against water type pokemon or if it is raining -Razor Shell -Aqua Cutter -Soak

KINGAMBA [Kingambit + Gamba (Shrimp in Spanish)] Water/Fighting The Mantis Shrimp Pokemon ->Evolves from EBISHARP after defeating 5 wild EBISHARP using BOILING HOOK<- Abilities: Moxie/Hyper Cutter - Tough Claws (HA) Dex: "It controls a large territory under the ocean, with many EBISHARPs as its lieutenants, each one commanding a squard of PRAWNIARDs" It vibrates its claws with such speed they become searing hot. Being hit with them is said to feel as being hit with a hot branding iron. They use this burning pincers to mark its lieutenants.” Moveset: -Boiling Hook -Crab Hammer -Cross Chop -Guillotine

Finally finished my convergent Pawniard line, I think I made them at the begining of the year but Im just getting to finishing things by now

PRAWNIARD is based on a Velvet Blue Shrimp

EBISHARP is based on a Bullseye Pistol Shrimp

KINGAMBA is based on a Peacock Mantis Shrimp

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter three part 1 Miss Journalist follows the day-in-the-life of Bastard München for the midseason promos, unexpectedly bringing her closer to Hiori in ways she didn’t anticipate. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, angst, fluff, bastard munchen boys being goofy af, hiori oggling at reader's thighs (i said what i said) masterlist next chapter

In a mid-season matchup, Bastard München shocked league leaders PXG with a performance that defied all expectations. PXG’s powerhouse lineup included Julian Loki, Itoshi Rin, and Charles Chevalier who dominated the early game, pressing forward with relentless aggression. The fierce pace they set had everyone expecting that Bastard München would struggle.

Bastard München appeared oddly passive, seeming to react more than attack. Both teams were known for their aggressive style, yet here was the German club, letting PXG press forward.

However, as the match wore on, a shift began. Just when it seemed PXG was in full control, they launched a well-timed counterattack in the second half. They managed to score two quick goals, pulling the game into a nail-biting tie. 

At the heart of it, Hiori and Ness continue to orchestrate high-level plays too fast even for the French Prodigy himself. When PXG tried to pressure Isagi and Yukimiya up front, Hiori, along with Kiyora and Ness, wove a quick, dazzling exchange of passes that bypassed their opponents completely.

And in the final seconds, Hiori spotted a fleeting gap and threaded a perfect pass to Ness, who slipped past Tokimitsu and Chapa. Facing Renoir, PXG’s goalie, Ness feinted, then fired the ball into the net. The stadium erupted as Bastard München claimed an unexpected, hard-earned victory.

Loud, thunderous cheers filled the stadium, the energy rippling through the stands like electric current. Even you couldn’t resist joining in, swept up in the crowd’s infectious excitement. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, shouting at the top of your lungs, not minding how loud you were. 

This was a monumental win for Bastard München, a showcase of their hard work that proved they could stand toe-to-toe with the league’s front-runners despite having a rocky start. Ideas for a feature story whirled in your mind, framing this victory as a turning point for Bastard München who had seemed lost earlier this season.

Assigned to cover the post-match interviews, you knew this was your chance to draw out good insights and get juicy details for your next cover story. Despite hours of preparation, your nerves betrayed you, your fingers picking at your nails in a futile attempt to calm the jittery energy inside you. 

It had been weeks since you and Hiori followed each other on Winstagram. No messages exchanged — not that you had expected any — but the prospect of seeing him in person stirred a flicker of nervous excitement you couldn’t quite shake off. 

One thing’s for sure, whatever admiration you harbored, it had to stay buried. That’s one thing for sure. No hint of favoritism should slip through.

The team members filed into the interview room, still visibly exhilarated and glistening with sweat from their hard-fought victory. The quiet murmurs buzzing died down as everyone watched the players settle down. You adjusted your posture, hoping to blend seamlessly among the other reporters. Your hair and makeup were styled just enough to appear polished yet casual—a calculated effort to project professionalism.

As your eyes roamed the room, they unintentionally locked with Hiori’s. His expression shifted briefly, a flicker of surprise softening into a small smile. “Hey,” he mouthed silently, unmistakably directed to you. 

Your heart skipped a beat, the sudden rush of adrenaline making your heart hammer in your chest. “Hi,” you mouthed back, barely above a whisper.

Ah, shit. Never mind. Only a small moment of weakness. Reset, reset!

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if trying to dislodge the tangle of nerves and excitement clouding your thoughts. Refocusing, you watched the other reporters take their turns, their questions almost the same recycled ones — focused on the team’s redemption arc after a string of disappointing performances.

With a pen in hand, you quickly scratched out questions already asked, jotting down alternatives that might elicit more candid responses. If you could pull it off, this could be another story that could go viral if you’re lucky enough. Enough to satisfy your editor.

Still, you avoided looking in Hiori’s direction. The fear of locking eyes again was too much; instead, you busied yourself with your notes, flipping pages unnecessarily to appear absorbed.

When your turn finally came, you felt the weight of Hiori’s gaze, sharp and steady, as if daring you to look at him..

“Congratulations on the win, Coach Noa and team,” you began, your voice steadier than you expected. “Bastard München’s strategy tonight was a bold departure from what we've seen earlier this season. Was this a calculated risk, or do you believe this adaptability is what defines the team’s identity?”

Coach Noa nodded, his composed demeanor radiating authority. “Thank you. Logic has always been a cornerstone of our philosophy at Bastard München. And it was only logical for us to adapt. Tonight’s strategy was indeed calculated, but it wasn’t without its risks.”

“We’ve been refining our approach over the past few matches, focusing on how we can leverage each player’s unique strengths. The team executed the plan brilliantly, especially in high-pressure moments.”

He paused briefly, then added, “Speaking of adaptability, Ness exemplified that tonight. His ability to shift between supporting roles and taking decisive actions — like that last goal — speaks volumes about the trust and synergy within the team.”

You nodded, scribbling down his answer before firing another question. 

“Tonight’s performance highlighted a blend of individual brilliance and collective effort. How does the team balance showcasing individual skills while maintaining a cohesive game plan?”

Coach Noa leaned forward slightly, his tone thoughtful. “I think it all comes down to trust and understanding. We know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and that allows us to play in a way where everyone can shine without losing sight of the team’s overall goals.

“For example, Hiori’s ability to read the game helps him create opportunities for the rest of us. And players like Isagi or Kunigami can take those chances and turn them into game-changing moments. We’re all working toward the same goal, so it’s not just about standing out individually — it’s about contributing in a way that benefits the whole team. When we play with that mindset, it creates moments where individual brilliance and teamwork naturally come together.”

She scanned her list of questions again, frustration mounting as most had already been asked. Only one remained, a question directed at Hiori. The thought of asking him made her throat dry.

Quick, something, anything!

Thinking fast, she pivoted smoothly, directing the question to the star player instead. “The winning goal was amazing, Ness. Everyone’s so used to seeing you excel in a supportive role that it felt surprising — but no less impressive — to see you take the spotlight this time. Would you say the recent changes within the team have influenced this proactive shift in your playstyle?”

Ness’s expression stayed composed, but the tension in his jaw and a slight twitch in his eye showed a flicker of irritation. His voice, measured but edged with sharpness, made it clear he caught the subtext.

“I wouldn’t say it’s any one thing. It’s about adapting to what the team needs at the moment,” he said, the words clipped and deliberate. 

“Honestly, I’d commend having a reliable team — Mensah and Gagamaru have been incredible in keeping our defense solid. And, well, Hiori deserves a lot of credit too. He has this way of creating opportunities that make my job easier.”

It was deflection, plain and simple. His tone hinted at a pointed effort to steer the conversation away, and she knew he’d just handed her a firm yellow card for even brushing up against anything Kaiser-related.

Without waiting for a follow-up, Ness passed the mic to Hiori, his grip still tight on the handle.

Hiori tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto hers as he took the mic. His gaze didn’t waver as he spoke.

“I think Ness’s goal reflects how we’re evolvin' as a team. We’re startin’ to read the game better and step up when it really counts. Ness isn’t just a playmaker — he’s capable of scoring when it counts, and tonight proved that.

“We’re learnin' to trust each other more, adapt on the fly, and capitalize on everyone’s strengths. That’s been the focus lately: findin' ways to be unpredictable and versatile.”

“Than—” she began, only to be cut off.

“But whatcha think, Miss Y/N?” Hiori asked, his tone casual, though his eyes glimmered with teasing intent. “I’d love to hear yer thoughts on our new playstyle. Yer no stranger to covering the big moments, right?

“Watchin' it up close, d'ya think it’s just a fluke from an overrated team? Or does this performance prove we’re a team to watch this season?”

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to her as Hiori leaned forward, propping his chin on his hands. His unwavering focus carried a warmth that made her feel small in her chair, her voice caught in her throat.

Her heart pounded as she tried to collect herself. 

“I, uhm...” The murmurs of nearby reporters didn’t help. From the corner of her eye, she caught Coach Noa watching with amused curiosity. Even the team exchanged wide-eyed glances, as if surprised by Hiori’s uncharacteristic boldness.

Clearing her throat, she pushed through the tension. Letting the dead air linger would only make things worse.

“Speaking as a journalist — and as a fan of the sport — I believe this iteration of Bastard München is definitely a work in progress, but it’s one worth keeping an eye on.”

She hesitated, her voice softening but steady as she held Hiori’s gaze. “Some may not be fond of the new team dynamic, but rest assured, there’s always someone here, cheering for you. No matter what.”

The room stilled, her words hanging like an unspoken promise. For a moment, no one moved.

Hiori hummed, the corner of his mouth lifting into a satisfied smirk. Before anyone could react, Coach Noa stepped in to wrap up the interview.

Still dazed from the exchange, she gathered her things, her cheeks burning. Her mind buzzed with confusion and a flurry of emotions, but one thing was certain—Hiori’s teasing smirk was burned into her memory.

A few weeks later, you find yourself standing outside Bastard München’s training facility, your nerves jangling like loose wires. The midday sun casts a warm glow over the meticulously maintained grounds, and the scent of fresh cut grass fills the air.

You adjust the strap of your camera bag, feeling the weight of responsibility as two videographers from the features team set up behind you.

Your editor has assigned you to the JFA Midseason promotions. Normally, a rookie sidecourt reporter like you wouldn’t have such opportunities, but after your viral moment with Bastard München, your editor is fast-tracking your career with high-profile assignments.

Virality sure does wonders.

The team manager approaches, offering a firm handshake. Before you can respond, Coach Noa himself strides up, leading you toward the field. His authoritative presence is softened by a faint smirk, as if amused by your visible nervousness.

On the field, players are scattered across the pitch. Some jogging, others deeply engaged in drills. The rhythmic thuds of soccer balls being kicked reverberate through the air. You spot a few familiar faces among the group but immediately notice someone is missing.

Hiori isn’t here. Strange.

Coach Noa blows his whistle sharply, commanding attention. The players jog over, forming a loose semicircle around you. Noa gestures with a nod, and suddenly, all eyes are on you.

“Like I mentioned earlier, the JFA team will be shadowing us today,” he says, his tone brisk yet professional. He steps back, expecting you to take the floor.

Clearing your throat, you muster your most confident smile.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Y/N L/N from ABZ Media, here to represent JFA for their midseason promotions. I’ll be asking you a few casual questions as you go about your routines. So please don’t feel pressured to act a certain way—just, uh, be yourselves. The fans love to see your natural charisma.”

A faint tremor betrays your nerves as you bow slightly, clutching your notebook like a lifeline. The players exchange glances before a chorus of “We’ll be in your care” echoes around the field, lightening the mood. Coach Noa steps forward again, efficiently dismissing the team to resume their drills.

The morning flies by as you make rounds, introducing players to the camera and coaxing them into lighthearted conversations. It’s surprisingly easy to chat with them, perhaps because your admiration for their talent is genuine. Or maybe it’s the way their easygoing banter puts you at ease.

In the gym, you find Raichi and Igarashi being as boisterous as ever. Raichi flexes dramatically for the camera, ripping off his sleeveless shirt in a comical display of bravado.

“Ladies, please!” he cries, striking a pose like a bodybuilder. “Cheer for us too!”

Sachs groans from the back of the gym, his exasperation cutting through the laughter. “Raichi, put your damn shirt back on. You’re embarrassing all of us!”

You quickly step in front of the camera, shielding Raichi’s topless antics as you stifle a laugh. “Okay, let’s move along before this turns into a modeling gig,” you say, guiding the cameraman toward the exit.

As you wander through the facility, a mouthwatering aroma draws you to the kitchen. Around the kitchen island, Kiyora, Yukimiya, and Ali are huddled together, watching match clips on a tablet while snacking on protein shakes and chips.

Behind them stands Gagamaru, tending to a sizzling pan. The rich smell of vegetables and pork simmering under the heat fills the room.

“Whatcha cooking, Gagamaru-san?” you ask, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice as you breathe in the delicious scent.

“Pork and vegetable pot stickers,” he replies without missing a beat, flipping one expertly with his chopsticks. “Ali-san’s been craving them, so I’m making a huge batch. Want to try? I made extras.”

Before you can respond, he gestures toward a plate of freshly made dumplings on the counter. Your eyes light up, and you move to grab one, but Gagamaru beats you to it. Picking one up with his chopsticks, he feeds it to you without hesitation.

Caught off guard but too hungry to resist, you take a bite. The dumpling is crispy on the outside, with a juicy, flavorful filling that melts in your mouth. 

“Oh wow, this is amazing!” you say, covering your mouth as you chew.

“He likes feeding people, so don’t feel weird about it,” Kiyora says, munching on his own dumpling.

“I only wish it was a woman feeding me,” Ali chimes in with a dramatic sigh, leaning against the counter. “But beggars can’t be choosers, L/N-san. Especially not me.”

You can’t help but laugh as he continues to rant, his over-the-top lamentations earning a good-natured eyeroll from Yukimiya. Meanwhile, Gagamaru simply shrugs, his focus already back on the next batch.

Back on the field, the drills continue under the midday sun. You spot Hiori jogging with a group that includes Isagi, Kurona, Ndiaye, and Schneider. You’re about to approach when you notice Hiori glancing in your direction.

Or was it through you?

Curious, you glance over your shoulder, wondering what’s caught his attention. But when you look back, he’s still focused—intently—somewhere in your direction.

“Dude, you’re staring,” Isagi teases, matching Hiori’s pace with a sly smirk.

“Am not,” Hiori mutters, his ears turning a shade pinker.

“You totally are,” Ndiaye chimes in from behind, grinning.

“Am not. Just, uh... admirin’ the view,”

“And by ‘view,’ you mean her...uh, thunder thighs?” Schneider laughs, clapping Hiori on the shoulder.

You were dressed in a loose, boxy white shirt that skimmed just below your hips, the fabric shifting with your movements. Paired with black leggings that hugged your figure and highlighted your toned yet thick thighs, it wasn’t really helping Hiori's case.

“Shut up,” Hiori grumbles, speeding up to escape their teasing, his ears now practically glowing red.

As the players finish their laps, you pick up a stray soccer ball and try your hand at dribbling. It quickly becomes apparent that your coordination is... not good. The ball skids off-course, rolling toward the group.

Before you can retrieve it, Hiori intercepts, trapping it with ease. “Mind being my drill partner for a bit?” he asks, his tone casual but his gaze intent.

“Me? Are you sure? I don’t want to, uh, mess up your practice.”

“You’ll be fine. Besides,” he adds with a small smile, “it’d be a shame to leave my biggest fan hangin'.”

Your face heats up at his words, and Isagi’s passing comment— “Don’t leave him hanging, Y/N-san!” —doesn’t help.

I am so not surviving this day.

Hiori walks you through basic dribbling drills, his movements precise and fluid. He places the ball at your feet and gestures for you to follow his lead.

“Stay close to the ball, but don’t smother it,” he says, watching as you fumble with your first attempt. “It’s all about control, so ya can keep it in yer range without overcommittin'.”

You try again, but the ball bounces awkwardly off your foot. “Kind of like... balancing offense and defense?” you suggest, struggling to find the right frame of reference.

“Exactly,” Hiori says, nodding. “Ya need to be ready to adjust at any moment. Small, controlled touches will keep ya agile and in control.”

You tilt your head, thinking it over. “It’s almost like... keeping your distance while tracking a monster’s movements in Monster Hunter, waiting for the right moment to act.”

Hiori’s eyes brighten. “Oh, ya play Monster Hunter?”

“Obsessively,” you reply with a grin.

“Then this’ll click,” he says, stepping back to demonstrate with the ball. “Dribblin' s'like positionin' yerself during a hunt. Keep the ball close, like keepin' yer stamina up while dodgin' and maneuverin'. Don’t let it get too far away, or you’ll lose control—kind of like trippin' or gettin' staggered.”

You watch, captivated by the way he moves with the ball, his footwork smooth and deliberate, like a hunter circling their target. When it’s your turn, you give it a try, mimicking his movements. It’s clumsy at first, but you feel yourself improving.

“Now trappin',” he says, passing the ball lightly toward you. “Think of it as bracin' for an attack or timin' a dodge. Ya stop the ball’s momentum and keep it close to yer strike zone. Use the inside of yer foot to absorb the impact.”

You miss the first attempt but manage to trap it on the second try. “Got it!” you exclaim, the small victory filling you with pride.

“Nice! Then chain it into yrr next move. So, like, followin' up with combos after staggerin' a monster,” he adds, his tone encouraging.

You laugh, finding comfort in the familiar gaming metaphor. “I guess this really is like a co-op training mission.”

As you practice, the conversation naturally drifts to your shared love of Monster Hunter. Hiori recounts his favorite hunts, while you share stories of late-night battles against Elder Dragons and the frantic scramble for resources mid-fight. The drills become less intimidating, more like swapping strategies with a fellow gamer during a long session.

At one point, Hiori surprises you with a compliment. “The article ya wrote? It was good. Particularly the part where ya basically say 'it ain’t over till it’s over'” he says, stopping mid-drill to look at you.

“Really?” you ask, startled by his sincerity.

“Yeah. Got me hyped for the next game” he admits, nudging the ball back toward you.

“And the video? I hope it wasn’t too...cringe.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Nah. It was cute,” he says, his tone genuine. “Kinda cool knowin' someone’s a fan.”

“I’m not the only one, right? Surely you have a ton of fans?”

“Some, I guess,” he shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye. “But none of them are cute journalists.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you sputter, “Stop teasing me, Hiori-san!”

“Am not,” he replies smoothly, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

By the time the drills wrap up, you find yourself more at ease, caught up in the camaraderie of the team and Hiori’s unexpected warmth. His ability to make soccer feel like second nature and connect it to something you love made it fun. Maybe this assignment might be more enjoyable than you thought.

The dribbling and passing drills end after an hour. You decide to take a break with the other cameraman shadowing you. It’s midday, and despite observing most of the team, Ness is still nowhere to be found.

As lunch rolls around, you finally catch a glimpse of him in a hallway, his unmistakable gait giving him away. Before you can call out, his eyes meet yours, and he immediately turns on his heel.

He’s avoiding me?!

You don’t think; you just act. Gesturing for the cameraman to stay put, you dash after the elusive midfielder. Ness quickens his pace, heading toward what looks like a conference room, but you manage to catch him by the hem of his training jersey.

“Ness-san,” you pant, out of breath, gripping the fabric tightly. “Wait… Just… give me a minute…”

He sighs sharply, clearly displeased, but doesn’t shake you off. “Fine. Just… let go already,” he mutters, ushering you inside the empty room.

You follow, shutting the door behind you before collapsing into a nearby chair, wiping sweat from your forehead. Ness, seated on the couch, watches you with an unreadable expression.

“I know why you’re here,” he says flatly.

“You do?” You’re still catching your breath.

“They gave me a heads-up.” He leans back, arms crossed. “Not that it matters. I wasn’t planning to talk.”

You blink, startled. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to give you or anyone else a chance to villainize Kaiser. Even after what happened.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. The idea that these players, often portrayed as larger-than-life, are just people navigating their own struggles makes your stomach churn with guilt.

“You, uh, don’t have to say anything,” you manage, voice softer now. “I’m sorry if I came off like a pushy paparazzi. I didn’t mean to.”

Slowly, you remove your lapel mic, setting it deliberately on your lap. “But I can lend an ear if you need someone to talk to. Or…”

You hesitate. “Or I can leave. Just say the word. I’ll sit here for a few minutes, so they at least think I tried my best to convince you.”

You give him a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t look as awkward as it feels. Ness stares at you for a beat, then shrugs, his attention shifting to his phone. The silence is heavy, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning. You fidget in your seat, picking nervously at the skin around your nails, not daring to look at him directly.

Finally, he speaks.

“It wasn’t the first time he told me to fuck off,” Ness says quietly, his voice carrying a bitter edge. 

“Back in the Neo Egoist League, he told me to stop following him. It.. it hurt, you know. To suddenly feel unwanted. Useless.”

You straighten in your chair, angling your body toward him, giving him your full attention.

“But he stayed on the team,” Ness continues, his fingers tracing absent patterns on his phone screen.

“So, I told myself it was fine. I could deal with it. That is until a few months ago, when Re Al gave him that ultimatum offer. He told me we needed to talk, and… for the first time, he let me down gently. He said it was time for me to find my own path. I knew he meant it kindly, but it felt like my world collapsed.”

Ness’s voice wavers, and he exhales sharply, as if trying to compose himself.

“I supported him because it gave me purpose. Even if people thought our relationship was weird, it didn’t matter. Being in his orbit was everything to me. I knew how he treated me, but it didn’t matter. He was my magic.”

His voice cracks on the word "magic," and your chest tightens painfully.

“I thought if he stayed, things could change. That I could fix it somehow. But then he left, and…” Ness trails off, his words swallowed by a wave of despair. When he speaks again, his voice is raw, each word dripping with agony.

“I just don’t want the magic to end. Not like this.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence, and you realize hot tears are streaming down your face. You quickly cover your mouth, trying to hold back a sob, but Ness notices.

“You’re, uh… crying,” he says awkwardly, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry,” you choke out, your voice trembling. “It’s just… I know how that feels.” You pause, wiping at your eyes. “Is it okay if I… hug you?”

He looks surprised but gives a small smile. “Yeah, I think we both need it.”

You lean forward, throwing your arms around him in an embrace that feels as clumsy as it is heartfelt. Ness hesitates before hugging you back, and for a brief moment, you feel his trembling hands.

The pain he carries feels too familiar, too close to home. You want, more than anything, to take it from him, to convince him he’s enough. Because the "you" who feels the same would want someone to take the pain away too.

“Sometimes, you won’t be enough for others,” you whisper. “And it has nothing to do with you.”

Ness doesn’t reply right away, but you feel him exhale against your shoulder, the tension in his frame easing ever so slightly.

“Thanks, L/N-san,” he says softly, pulling back after a moment. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

He squeezes your shoulder briefly before leaving the room, his movements steady despite the weight you know he’s carrying. You don’t follow him, knowing better than to intrude further.

Instead, you sit there, alone with the ache in your chest, wishing you could have done more.

You try to compose yourself as memories flood your mind.

What good are you if you can’t be useful to us?

And this is how you repay me?

The words echo relentlessly, leaving a knot in your chest. Your spiraling thoughts are abruptly cut off when you softly bump into someone while stepping out of the room.

“Y/N-san?”

Startled, you quickly wipe at your face and look up to find Hiori standing in front of you, his expression shifting from surprise to quiet concern.

“H-Hiori-san,” you stammer, trying to sound normal, but your voice cracks, betraying the turmoil inside.

“You okay?” he asks gently, his tone careful, his eyes searching yours.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply too quickly, your voice tight. You try to avoid his gaze, your fingers twisting the hem of your sleeve as if the fabric could anchor you. “I’m just… Lot of thoughts in my mind. That’s all.”

Hiori doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push either. “Ya sure?” he asks again, softer this time.

You nod, blinking rapidly to shake the lingering haze of emotion. “Yes. Really. Thank you for your hard work today,” you mumble, your words coming out in a rush as if to change the subject.

“Ah... you too,” he says, though his tone is distracted. His gaze lingers on you, like he’s trying to figure out what’s left unsaid.

For a moment, the air between you feels heavy. You shift awkwardly, breaking the silence.

“So, um… I should probably go,” you say, your voice wavering slightly as you gesture vaguely down the hallway.

“Right, yeah. Of course,” he says, his words tumbling over yours as he steps back. “I, uh… should get back too.”

The exchange feels clumsy, both of you retreating into the safety of polite distance.  You turn to leave, feeling like an awkward mess. 

Hiori watches you walk away, his brow furrowed, his thoughts racing. That expression you wore just moments ago — a fragile mix of pain and vulnerability — it reminds him of himself.

He knows that look. He’s seen it in the mirror before, felt that same weight pressing down on his chest. The kind of loneliness that makes you feel invisible, even when someone’s right there in front of you.

He wants to say something, to reach out, to let you know you’re not alone. But the words get stuck in his throat, and instead, he stays rooted in place.

It’s moments like these that unsettle him the most. He feels like he’s seen a glimpse of something in you that mirrors himself — raw, unguarded, and all too familiar.

And for a fleeting moment, he wonders if the two of you might share more than he ever realized.

amari's notes: uwaaaah! i know it's so long and i blame myself for being an indecisive lil shit. kinda changed the story trajectory but here we are folks! i hope you guys enjoy and lemme know what you think so far?

[pendarling]

Do You Like Me?

Villain's attention shifted when they realized Hero was blushing. It was a soft stain of pink showering on their face despite the life-threatening circumstances they were in.

"Are you… seriously flustered right now?" They tightened their grip on the weapon as they stood in front of an abandoned warehouse. Hero had been knocked to the ground fairly easily tonight, and now Villain stood hovering above them, pointing the blade at their throat. They'd been determined to kill one of their longest adversaries, and even now, they still couldn't entirely figure them out.

This doesn't usually happen with all of Villain's other enemies, and something always told them that Hero, in particular, should be treated a little differently.

"W-what?" Hero's eyes widened, and they turned their gaze away.

They smirked slightly and pulled the blade away from Hero, "You really are enjoying this aren't you?" They chuckled as Hero stumbled on their words to find a counter-argument. "You a freak?" They leaned in and pulled their chin toward them. Hero's face lit on fire at the unexpected guess.

"Get off me!" They blushed feverously and batted away at their hand, but Villain hadn't budged at all; their eyes kept calm at the sudden nervousness of their enemy. 

"Hahaha, you seriously like me? I thought you just had a strong vendetta."

"I'm not interested in you, okay!?" 

Villain's hand combed through their hair until Hero's focus was back on them. "Oh? But you were blushing."

"I panicked!" A long silence came across them, and Hero lay silently.

"Hmmm..." Villain shrugged and stood away from them again to let Hero rise from the ground. They could tell they'd gotten on Hero's mind and decided to entertain it. "It's a shame, actually; I kinda thought it could work... theoretically speaking, of course, since..."

Hero dashed their eyes back at them. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but it's not gonna work."

But it already did, and without them knowing too.

"You really don't think of me in any way?" They leaned in closer again, their teeth bearing a predatory-like reminder of their positions, but the sudden closeness only made Hero's cheeks darken in excitement.

Their nemesis refrained from speaking, too stunned to fight but too embarrassed to clue them in further. Their aloof expression was rather unconvincing. 

Villain circled their frame with an ominous air surrounding them, a soft breeze passing behind them sent shivers across Hero's body. "My, my... I never knew I'd see the day you'd get so riled up because of me." Villain sounded confident in their words as their hand slightly traced down their back as they worked their way into Hero's vision once more.

"You're awfully cocky..." They mumbled, still frightened at the concept of harbouring any feelings for what was supposed to be their greatest opponent. 

"Am I?"

Hero felt their heart hammering in their chest when Villain's eyes lingered on their lips unexpectedly. They instinctively licked them in response, feeling an unfamiliar submissive nature surface just by being so near to Villain. "You are."

"Are you still scared of me, little hero?" They tilted their head in a taunting manner and observed their reaction at being called upon so playfully.

It took all their strength to shake their head without appearing intimidated, but the power dynamic had already attached itself to their heart. Whatever Villain was doing had left them nervous, unlike any others before. It was a type of fear that stopped them from pursuing dangerous territory before they went and got hurt. This was Villain, after all; they were capable of much greater things than just wasting time with them.

It could all be a small game, toying with Hero's emotions before they took what they hid so well.

"Good." They murmured against their ear, and Hero stopped themselves from flinching; they were so caught up in their thoughts that they hadn't processed Villain's movements. "Because I have much greater things I plan to do with you, love."

~~~ MASTERLIST

[shentheauthor]

That's ok! But I got a new request! Those headcanons for the Harbingers' S/O clobbering people got me thinking... Can I request headcanons about the Harbingers having a sweet and precious S/O who is also incredibly strong? They just regularly bench press Fatui Skirmishers, like the Electro ones with the hammers, will fist fight hilichurls and win, and carry loads that look like they could crush them with ease. Even more confusing if they have an average or slender build.

Heyo sorry this took so long! But I am here now to write <3

Harbingers with an s/o who’s small, but very strong

~~~~~~~

Pierro:

This man has lived for centuries

He thought he’d seen it all

But when you picked up a skirmisher with one hand and threw him across the room while helping the new recruits train

Pierro almost had a heart attack

He thought he imagined it at first, but the groaning skirmisher you’re helping to stand is more than enough evidence to the contrary

He’ll run over immediately and start questioning how in the hell you did that

Were you born with this strength???? Or did you do some kind of insane magic????

Watches you like a hawk now, but affectionately

Lowkey wants to be carried, but he refuses to ask

If you pick him up without permission tho, he will get SO flustered

Lift that old man, he’s touch starved and he needs it

Capitano:

The fatui soldiers see the two of you as a sort of “good cop” and “bad cop”

Soft, sweet angel, and an absolutely intimidating powerhouse

Imagine everyone’s surprise when you lift capitano effortlessly

Capitano is the most surprised out of everyone

He was just coming back home from being away for a while, and you greeted him at the city’s entrance

And there you go, spinning him around and crushing his ribs despite your average size

The man was too stunned to speak

His first thought is “have you been training??” But he’s smart enough to know that this is probably just

A You Thing™️

He’ll let you train with him now

And help the Fatui grunts train as well

You’ll beat everyone’s asses (politely) and capitano will just go “now this is why we don’t underestimate our opponents”

Now you two are both powerhouses, and everyone is afraid of you LMFAO

The two strongest people in Teyvat dating each other… what are the odds /hj

Dottore:

He’ll probably find out during an experiment gone wrong

A ruin machine goes out of control, and the segments are all working to take it down

AND ITS THE S/O WITH THE STEEL CHAIR (except the steel chair is your fucking fists)

Lifting literal Tons of metal effortlessly and tearing it apart without breaking a sweat

The segments: 👁️👁️

Godspeed, friend, bc they will NOT leave you alone now

When you date one Dottore, you date ALL of them

And all of them want to run tests on you

Or get carried by you

Or both at the same time

Seriously they wanna experiment on you SOOOOO bad

He is an absolute simp for you tho, so he will shut up if you promise to carry him around and help him with other experiments instead

Carry multiple segments at once, they will miraculously not fight with each other bc they’re in your arms <3

The Fatui soldiers thought you were the safe one, the sane one

But now they’re terrified of you too AJGKBKDKVKDK

Columbina:

Omfg dude she is SO happy

She’d probably find out after you pick her up

It’s not exactly hard to do, but she’ll notice that you didn’t even make an ounce of effort

So she’ll ask you to lift more things

Getting increasingly heavy

And she is absolutely delighted

Literally living her best life

You are now her personal vehicle

Carry her everywhere and she is happy

Loves watching you lift impossibly heavy objects easily

She thinks it’s so hot and amazing and impressive

She is so in love <3

Two people who look soft and sweet, but are secretly terrifyingly strong <3

Arlecchino:

She’d probably find out if someone tries to hurt you

Like on a mission or smth

Ruin golems come after you, as they tend to do, unfortunately

Arle wants to protect her soft, sweet s/o

But boom, there you go, LIFTING THAT THING

Bc you don’t want her to get hurt, of course!

She would have a solid 10 minutes of sheer confusion

“Who are you, and what have you done with my s/o”

It’s very clearly still you tho, as you’re checking her over for injuries

Once she’s processed and accepted what happened, she’s even more in love

You’re so strong, and that’s AWESOME

Asks you to help “deal with” insubordination

She doesn’t approve of how gentle you are with disobedient soldiers

But at least watching you lift them up and place them gently in their barracks as punishment is hella fun

I wanna know more about her HoYo…

Pulcinella:

He would not realize for a while

You like carrying him, but he isn’t exactly hard to carry for a normal person

No, he would realize when you’re both on a business trip

Loading luggage onto your carriage, there’s a ton of suitcases

“I’ve got this, love,” you say, reaching for all the very large, very heavy stacks of suitcases

“No, you don’t have to— what the fuck”

Very shocked, very flustered, bc wait, you can do this to ANYONE you want? Not just a little tiny gnome?

Oddly quiet and shy around you for the trip 🤨🤨🤨

This old man is so in love

Definitely watches you if you ever train in any way

Hell you probably have a few friends in the Fatui

He’ll watch you “hang out” with your friends (aka bench press them)

And he will just be :)

Quietly flustered mans

Scaramouche:

He can feel your strength when you hug him and pick him up

He isn’t exactly hard to pick up, being made of mostly light materials

But your lack of effort is suspicious

He has theories, and he will test them by taking you on missions and having you fight enemies

“Will you please lend me a hand”

You’re super sweet, so of course you’ll help

And oh there you go, literally punching through a ruin guard in one shot

Being an absolute ray of sunshine the whole way through

“Are you ok, kuni? :D”

He won’t comment on your strength, but man he’s proud to have such a strong partner

He knows the appeal of allowing your opponents to underestimate you, even tho that’s not what you’re doing

So he won’t tell anyone about it and delight in the shock that everyone else experiences when you reveal it yourself

And if he lets you carry him more often after? Well that’s none of your business…

Sandrone:

She wants one of her larger dolls moved

And before she can get her big robot butler guy to do it, you’re taking care of it

Boom, big robot butler guy has been replaced /hj

Like, Sandrone won’t even use machines to move her dolls anymore

She just has you do it, since you’re happy to help

She’s so excited for the extra help 😭😭 for once

Be honored she lets you touch them

BUT! Also…

She wants you to carry her sooo bad

She will never tell you directly, but she makes it so obvious you always know when she wants it

Sandrone visibly relaxes in your arms

She feels safe and warm and happy

Very glad she didn’t turn you into a puppet lmao

Signora:

She’s so shook omfg

You lifting her is kind of insane, bc she is TALL AS HELL

But you did lift her, and there she is, held in your arms and slowly beginning to blush

“…dear, please put me down”

“Nope <3 your feet look tired, you deserve a break <3”

“…fair enough”

She won’t let you carry her in public, but in private? She will wrap her whole body around you and let you hold her

She thinks it’s funny to watch you just LIFT gunners and skirmishers, bc they’re always so shocked

She will compliment your strength in private all the time

What I wouldn’t give to have her wrapped around me, dancing in her bedroom with nobody else around AUGUHHHHH

Pantalone:

You two get caught in the rain together while in Liyue on banking business

Neither of you have umbrellas, and Pantalone is wearing his nice shoes

You, being a sweetheart, don’t want his shoes to get dirty, so you pick him up and book it to the bank

This man is so confused, flustered, and delighted at the same time

“Darling, you never told me you could lift me like that”

When he finds out you can lift more? Oh my god dude he is so whipped

He wants you to hold him all the time

He just adores watching you carry things around

Especially because everyone stares and looks so freaked out Lmao

This man is literally just… heart eyes, motherfucker personified

Literally so so down bad for you, it’s not even funny

Carry his mora for him, he’ll propose on the spot /hj

Tartaglia:

OH MAN

He wouldn’t bring a non-combatant onto the battlefield

But he would see you training with the soldiers and immediately do a 180 on that

“PLEASE SPAR WITH ME!!!”

You will, bc you know how much he loves it

And you won’t beat his ass, bc he’s very skilled, but man the hits you land hit HARD

He will now show you off to everyone

“Guys this is my beautiful, kind, strong s/o, look at them :D”

Down bad mf

Loves being carried soooo much dude, he’s so touch starved and he wants affection so bad

Hell dude he’ll let you carry him in public

Unless it’s around his soldiers

He has to set a good example after all

But every other time, you will not be allowed to put him down

Utterly smitten mf

[howtofightwrite]

I have character A whose born female, small in stature and well trained in hand to hand combat and character B whose born male, a few feet taller, fucking huge and has had to rely on strength his whole life. Realistically how can two people like this fight and for how long? what kind of qualifications could character A have to help her beat character B in hand to hand combat? at what point does strength win over strategy or vice versa in a fight? does any of this make sense lol

Nope.

Okay, so, how long can Character A fight? As long as she needs to, which based on your assessment, shouldn't be too long.

Character B cannot fight. Unless they have training that you're not disclosing, they won't be effective.

“My relies on strength to fight,” is a bit like saying, “my character drives their car via their sheer physical strength.” It's not how this works.

Unarmed combat isn't about strength, it's about a precise understanding of human physiology, and exploiting the limitations of it.

For example: You may have noticed your knees only bend in one direction, however, this is a lie, your knees can bend in any direction they want to, provided a small application of force in the correct point which will permanently expand your knee's ability to move in this new direction. It's not strength, or at least, not a meaningful amount, it's about looking at your opponent's body as a mechanical system, and then selectively breaking it until it stops trying to break yours. The funny thing about this is, if you don't know what to do humans are obnoxiously durable. Unless you get lucky, you can literally rip limbs off and still fail to kill them.

A lot of the philosophy of strength fighting is built off a misunderstanding. Force is important. However, when it comes to weapons, the weapon itself amplifies and delivers that force. For example: hammers are often portrayed as strength weapon. You'll see them being carried around by huge bulky bruiser types (when it's not played for laughs, anyway.) However, real sledges are not extremely heavy. A real sledge can get as heavy as ~20lbs (~9kg) (normal ones are less than half that), which is extraordinarily heavy for a weapon, but getting it swinging isn't that hard. It's designed to be swung. Once it's at speed, it will connect with a lot more force than you could generate based on raw physical strength. The basic physics are that you get the hammer's head moving significantly faster than the haft where you're holding it. The basic woodcutters strike where you start with one hand at the bottom of the haft and one near the head, then slide it down the haft as you swing makes it even easier to get it moving.

(Worth noting, there are sledgehammers designed for exercise, rather than as tools, and these get a lot heavier, but they're for building up muscles. Which, to be fair, there's nothing wrong with a character who's absolutely ripped, and there are ways they can use that to their advantage, but it doesn't help them fight, just like it doesn't help them drive.)

Beyond that, as we've mentioned a lot recently, swords really are not a strength weapon. It's a long razor blade, which needs to be carefully applied to your opponent's soft screamy parts, not their armor.

The one weapon that really is a strength weapon is the bow. If you're a professional archer (using historically authentic weapons, rather than mechanical compounds bows) there's a very real potential you'll be ripped. You're pulling a lot of weight in your shoulders. Of course, bows are also very high maintenance weapons, which isn't often reflected, but weapon maintenance is often an underrepresented in general.

When talking about unarmed combat, the amount of force necessary is shockingly low. Again, it's about exploiting the body's limitations. Knowing where to put pressure lets you use your opponent's body against them. Most people, “normal people,” don't look at other human beings as 100-200lbs of ambulatory meat stretched across a pulley system. When you start learning anatomy for the purposes of combat, the ability to break another human being starts to become frighteningly simple.

So what happens? She quickly neutralizes her opponent.

How long does that take? Depending on training? Could be less than five seconds. Certainly less than a minute.

What does neutralize mean in this context? I dunno. It could mean that he's subdued and gradually losing consciousness. It could mean that he'll never dance or play piano again. It could mean his next date is with the coroner. All of these are reasonable potential outcomes depending on who she is, and what she trained to do.

Remember what I said near the beginning. (Assuming she has a practical combat background) her job is to break his body before he does the same to hers. If he's a big bruiser type with no context of violence outside of John Wayne films and high school scuffles, she could kill him. In a lot of cases, she needs to, because she doesn't know what his background is, and the faster he is permanently scratched off her threats column the better. From her perspective, leaving him on the board poses an immediate and critical threat to her life.

This is the other thing about violence, you don't know what your opponent can or will do. When you're assessing a threat like this, you need to have a plan to remove them. “Do unto them before they can do unto you.” That doesn't always mean, “kill them,” but we're talking about a walking mountain who's at least seven feet tall. At that point, life altering injuries start to sound a lot like reasonable force, and justifiable lethal force is just around the corner. Depending on his behavior, it may already have arrived.

So, how long does this take? Not long.

Strength only wins out over strategy if the strategies are poor or poorly implemented, if she has combat training, that shouldn't be a consideration. Beyond that, people are far more predictable than we like to see ourselves as. Good combat training includes a surprising amount of practical insight into how people behave. Realistically, he's not going to be able to do anything she hasn't trained to counter, at least not if he doesn't have some training of his own. And, again, even if he was to have training, his strength wouldn't be the deciding factor, his training would be the important consideration.

-Starke

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[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 5: BTS bias wrecker - Jungkook✨️

To the victor

AN: Jungkook might just be my strongest bias wrecker, so this one hurts more than the others. This was supposed to be posted a while ago, but life was lifing. Either way, I hope you enjoy my suffering. (Also, I know next to nothing about boxing and boxing related injuries so, just walk with me here lmao.)

Synopsis: Jungkook lives to box. The ring is practically his home. However, watching him become all bruised and bloodied isn't exactly easy for his girlfriend, no matter how much he wins.

Heads up: Jeon Jungkook x Fem! Reader, established relationship, Non-Idol AU, Boxer! Jungkook, boxing (duh), mentions of bodily harm, mentions of blood, hurt and comfort elements, pretty fluffy overall tbh, dry humping, hair pulling, nipple play (f. receiving), facesitting, unprotected piv sex and creampie.

Word count: 2867

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You wouldn't be surprised to find blood on your hands from how deeply your nails are sinking into your skin at the moment. Your heart hammering against your chest as you watch Jungkook dodge another punch from Mingyu like it was nothing.

Kim Mingyu is no small man. From the bruises that are already beginning to form across your boyfriend's torso, you know his hits carry a great deal of weight behind them. Still, Jungkook has that gleam in his eyes. He's going to win. No matter what, he is going to walk out of this ring as the winner.

An opportunity presents itself when Mingyu leaves himself wide open and, Jungkook wastes no time landing a painful looking blow to the larger man's ribcage. You even can't help but, cringe just watching the impact. Mingyu falters and that's when Jungkook unleashes a barrage of hits so quick that neither his opponent nor the audience could keep up with. While Mingyu has raw strength, Jungkook is faster and his hits, while not carrying the same impact as the other man's, are nothing to scoff at.

Sometimes, in the quietest corners of your mind, it scares you to see the person he becomes in the ring. He's unyielding and brutal. Not stopping until his opponents are bloodied heaps on the floor of the ring. Sometimes you struggle to reconcile the man in the ring with the man who still gets too shy to tell you he loves you at times.

Relief. A feeling that's fast become your confidant over the past three years courses through you when Mingyu finally falls and the bell rings out. The cheers of the crowd are deafening but, all you can focus on is him. Jungkook turns to you, blood smeared on his jaw and sends you the brightest smile. "I won," he mouths only for you to see.

This is probably the second worst part. Watching the medic patch him up. When all of the adrenaline is gone and, you can only watch helplessly as the aches and pains and throbs settle themselves deeply into his very bones.

"You're very lucky, Mr Jeon. Fortunately you only have two cracked ribs and some tissue damage," the medic says, finishing the tightening of the gauze around his torso. He winces but, otherwise seems to be taking this all well.

"Thank you, Siyeon," he says sincerely, as you two watch her pack up her equipment.

"No worries. Just be careful, your ribs can only take so much more damage,"

"Yeah, I know," he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

The silence is poignant when you two are left alone. A frown marring your face as you take in the nasty bruises across his torso, even with Siyeon's expertise. The bruise on his face and his raw knuckles not helping to ease your concerns either.

"You're upset," he mutters, tired brown eyes meeting your own.

"I'm not upset. I'm just...I'm just worried," you respond, leaning against his locker.

"Is there much of a difference?" He smiles but, there's no joy or humour behind it. You hate taking away any of his happiness from a win. It's not fair. Especially when he's the one who got his shit rocked.

"I'm sorry. It's really hard watching you in there sometimes but, I'll be fine. You deserve to celebrate tonight,"

"Come here,"

You blink at him but, he watches you patiently. You're not sure what he's thinking but, regardless, you make your way over to him. Completely caught off guard when he pulls you into his lap.

"Hey, a warning would've been nice!"

"You need a warning to be on my lap?"

If he wasn't injured you'd punch him.

You soften when he laughs. Full and happy and, a much better expression than the sullen one from moments ago.

"Thank you for worrying about me," he says once he calms, the intensity of his gaze warming your face considerably.

"You don't need to thank me for that,"

"No, I do. I think with all the wins it's easy to forget sometimes how much all of this makes you feel. I know you know that boxing is my life but, that doesn't mean your feelings don't matter to me. I know it would twist my heart all the time seeing you in my position,"

For a man who's usually not the best with his words, he sure does know when to make you feel overwhelmed when he wants to.

"It's just hard sometimes, Kookie. I think today was just a really, really hard day but, you did such a great job. I'm so proud of you," you breathe, cupping his jaw and pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead.

"I think hearing you say that means more to me than any sized cheque or trophy ever could," he responds while his fingers draw patterns you can't decipher along your hips.

"Are you just trying to make me cry tonight?" You ask with a joking scowl on your face, the weight on your chest so much lighter now.

His dimples make an appearance from how hard he grins at you, "Maybe."

Getting home after a fight is always a mission and a half. Usually, Jungkook isn't too badly injured but, the two of you have to be careful and sometimes you need to help him manoeuvre his way around.

"I'm fine," he says as you two make your way to your front door.

"Yeah, that's why you're hunching over right now. Totally fine," you mutter, fumbling with your keys momentarily before finally stepping into your apartment. Jungkook limping after you.

"Okay, I'm mostly fine," he responds, heading to your bedroom.

You try your absolute hardest not to roll your eyes, "Do you need anything or do you want to head straight to bed?"

"Nah, I'm good. I cleaned up after the fight and Siyeon said she patched me up for the night so, I should be fine," he yells.

Honestly, you don't blame him. You're pretty exhausted too and you weren't even the one in the ring.

After making sure your door was locked, all your windows were securely shut and all of the lights were turned off, you join him. Air stills in your lungs as you take in the sight of him in nothing but, his boxers. Worry and anxiety had been clouding your mind earlier but, to say Jungkook is hot would be the understatement of the decade. Even with all his current injuries and scars from past fights sprinkled across his body, he's a sight to behold.

"I thought you'd be asleep," you say in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the lecherous thoughts taking hold of your mind.

"I think I have too much left over energy," he sighs, large hands dragging along his muscular thighs. Focus. You need to focus. He's injured. Now isn't the time.

"Oh, do you have thoughts of how to get rid of it maybe?"

Anticipation and white hot desire coil in your gut when his gaze turns heavy and mischievous, "I can think of a few ways."

"Jungkook," you chastise, ignoring the dull ache building at the juncture of your thighs, "You're hurt. We can't."

"We can just be extra careful. Besides, don't you want to celebrate my win tonight with me?"

This man.

You'd be a bold faced liar if you said you didn't want him right now. Maybe that's what prompts you into succumbing to your baser instincts without much more of an argument. You pointedly ignore the smug grin that's spread across his face when you settle yourself in his lap.

"You're so annoying," is all the warning you give him before your mouth is on his. The kiss is frenzied and desperate from the offset. Hands running along each other's bodies needily, his settling on your hips and dragging you along his hardening cock while your own tug and fist at his hair.

He does have a way of bringing out the most desperate parts of you.

"We still have to be careful," you mutter, shivers running down your spine from the hot, open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your jaw and throat. His large hands snaking their way down to grab generous hanfuls of your ass.

"You worry too much," he pulls back enough to respond, smiling against your skin when you squirm in his hold as he lightly nips at your sensitive skin.

"You don't worry enough," you're impressed by your ability to quip back fast enough considering how quickly muddled your mind is becoming. Moaning when he finds your clit through your respective clothing, your panties sticking to you.

"Maybe you're right," he responds with glint to his usually soft eyes, tugging your shirt off of you so quickly that you barely have time to process what happened.

"But, life's too short," he finishes, glazed eyes intensely taking in the vision you make in just your bra.

His skillful fingers waste little time. Getting you out of your bra in what you're sure is record time and enveloping one of your hardened nipples in his warm, wet mouth. You're not sure who moans louder. Your nails biting into his biceps as he all but, crushes you to him. Losing himself in your tits while the two of you grind against each other to find any relief you can.

"Jung-Kookie ah," you cry out from a particularly hard suck. Goosebumps rising on your skin when he playfully runs his teeth along your nipple. His eyes meeting yours through his messy bangs while he continues to suckle on you to his satisfaction.

"I want you to sit on my face," are the first words out of his mouth when he unlatches himself with an obsence pop.

"I forget how demanding you can be on nights when you win," you laugh breathlessly, cupping his jaw in your hands and kissing him more gently than before. The two of you savouring each other and letting unadulterated affection be your guide.

Jungkook is about to whine when you pull away and get off of his lap, but his words quickly die on his tongue as he watches you wiggle out of your shorts and panties. His cock throbbing harshly in the confines of his boxers while he drinks your nudity in.

"Well? What're you waiting for?" You ask with a quirk of your eyebrow. Biting back a smirk at the mystified look on his pretty face.

"Oh, right. Sorry," he says, shifting upwards and laying on his back. Restless hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

It feels nice to leave him a little flustered and desperate for once.

Jungkook's eyes are laser focused between your thighs when you shift to straddle his face, understandably so. You're beyond wet for him, and based on the way his lips part and his impatient hands grip your thighs and drag you onto his face, he's more than ready for this too.

The first lap of his expert tongue at your clit forces a moan louder than you anticipated out of you. Your shaky hands clutching your headboard for some semblance of stability as Jungkook licks and sucks and kisses with increasing frequency and intensity. The vibrations from his quiet moans and chest deep groans only serving to add to the toe-curling pleasure, rendering your body slack above him.

His hands move you on his tongue. Helping you ride his handsome face and, his tongue lapping out as much of your wetness as he can in his current position while his nose stimulates your sensitive clit. All you can do is mindlessly grind against his face and take everything he's willing to give you. Your orgasm building and the knot in your core growing increasingly tight with every flick of his tongue and nudge of his nose.

It's all over for you when he forces you against his tongue, hard. His fingers harshly gripping your plush thighs as he sucks and licks at your clit. All muddled mix of his name and moans and pleas fall from your lips while you ride out your release. Jungkook doesn't relent in the slightest. Continuing to tongue at you through it all, even when one of your hands drifts downwards to entangle itself in his luscious hair.

"Kookie, too-too much," you whine, using what minimal energy you have left to move off of his face. Shaky thighs supporting you as you hover above him.

Even though you quite literally just came, a flushed Jungkook covered in your release certainly could get you there once more if you pushed hard enough. He blinks up at you as if to escape some sort of trance he was in. Tongue poking out to lick up whatever traces of you he can.

"I wasn't done," he complains, his eyes on full bunny mode and his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Light reflecting off of his piercing.

You roll your eyes, moving off of him altogether, "Well, I was. It was getting to be too much."

If you'd let him, Jungkook would happily spend the entire night with you over him. Forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you're close to blacking out. However, you think you're both too tired for all of that tonight. Even if he'd disagree.

Before he can complain further, you lean down to kiss him. Smiling into him when he gasps as your hand leisurely runs down his muscular chest. Palming him over his boxers, your walls throbbing, and the painful feeling of emptiness beginning to settle in. Maybe you can muster a little more energy.

Jungkook watches you in a daze. Realisation settling in when you hurriedly pull down his boxers and, his flushed cock slaps against his toned abdomen.

"Still complaining?" You tease, looking down at him. Taking him in your hand and reveling in the visible quiver you see run along his body.

"No," he groans, "Please,"

Fuck. He's so fucking unfair. How could you ever say no to him when he sounds like that?

Your lashes flutter, and you grit your teeth when you begin to sink down onto him. The stretch is borderline overwhelming but, so deliriously good that you soldier through. Your hands resting on him for purchase while you gain your bearings.

Jungkook, for his part, seems to be struggling just as much as you if his hold on your hips is any indication. Quiet moans reaching your ears when you he's fully sheathed inside of you. God, he always fills you so deliciously. Nestled so deeply inside of you that it makes your head fuzzy.

"Kookie," you chastise with little bite behind your words when he fucks up into you.

"Sorry, can't help it," he groans, his cock pulsing inside of you as the two of you remain unmoving.

"Always so impatient," you tease, slowly rising off of him before sinking back down. Your eyes rolling into the back of your skull from the earthshattering pleasure that courses through you.

Fortunately, it doesn't take you long to find your rhythm from there. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your combined sounds of pleasure ringing out throughout your bedroom.

He always looks so beautiful underneath you like this. His inky locks sticking to his sweaty forehead, a faint blush colouring his cheeks with his lips parted. His glassy eyes taking in every part of you can.

"I love you," you mutter, leaning down to kiss him. It's messy and all spit and tongue, but you couldn't care less. Your rhythm growing increasingly sloppy as your second orgasm creeps up on you. One of your hands reaching between your overheated bodies in search of your clit.

"I love you too," he moans, his hands helping you along. A breathy 'fuck' falling from his bruised lips when your slick walls tighten around him. Practically begging for him to cum inside of you.

Jungkook forces you onto his cock when his orgasm slams into him. Your name and a symphony of groans all he seems to be capable of. You wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises on your hips in the morning.

Between the sensation of his thick, warm cum flooding your pussy, your fingers drawing frenzied patterns on your clit and watching his face contort in pleasure, it's no wonder your own release is triggered.

It takes everything in you not to just collapse onto him. Your muddied brain somehow still aware of all of his injuries. You both shudder as you gradually move off of him. Your combined releases leaking down your thighs and, likely smearing your sheets but, you're too tired to think about cleaning up right now.

"Come here," he mutters sleepily, making grabby hands at you.

If only everyone could see their champion now, you muse. Nuzzling into his side and wrapping your arm around his waist lightly. Trying your hardest not to aggravate any of his injuries any further.

He melts into you. Not taking long to slip into slumber, the slow rise and fall of his chest a welcome sight. It has been a long day, after all, and even the greatest need their rest.

[inbabylontheywept]

An Honorary Troll

Breaker paused a moment, taking in the sight of the mage in front of him. The robes, the beard, the aloof expression - those were all typical.

The staff was not.

“You cast with that?” he asked, half impressed.

The mage swung the thing off his shoulders overhand and planted its blade into the dirt. It was the first truly threatening staff Breaker had ever seen. The blade on its end was almost as long as the haft itself, counterbalanced at the end by a polished lump of amber larger than a goose's egg. The damn thing looked more like a polearm than a casting aid.

Breaker waited a few moments to see if the human was going to respond to his question. He didn’t. Part of him, the proud part, was happy to finally be taken seriously. The smart part of him suspected he was going to miss the advantage of being underestimated.

Breaker unslung his massive warhammer from his shoulders, its half-slowed fall still weighty enough to be felt through the mages thick work boots, loud enough to be felt in both of their chests.

Then he blitzed the length of the bridge.

The mage’s eyes widened, his wizened hands beginning to twitch out a ward. Breaker knew there wasn’t time. The gap was too short. He was already beginning his overhead swing of the hammer, half falling, the full power of his speed, strength, and weight poured into one crushing blow. He knew that the secret to hitting a mage was giving them everything you had, as hard as possible, as fast as possible, as close as possible. The more time they had to think and react, the more dangerous they’d become, and the more time he had needed to chase and smash, the more tired he’d get. Thank the Gods this was gonna work. Extended fights were-

The wizard grinned.

A spell went off. Not a ward. Simpler. A small jet of flame shot out of the amber orb, rotating the blade to vertical in a fraction of a second. The wizard half relaxed as he planted the staff in the gravel, looking forward like a huntsman versus a charging boar.

Breaker knew he couldn’t slow down. He couldn’t dodge. The one mercy he could see was that the tip was aimed at his chest, not his gut. He’d rather choke on blood than rot from the inside. He closed his eyes before impact, not wanting to see the blade sink into him.

It didn’t.

He heard the crunch of gravel give way to the crunch of his nose as the mage threw a haymaker into his sidestep, staff moved helpfully to the side. He was half glad for the blow because it helped him get his center of balance back under him again. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get a blow in with the hammer again, it needed too much time to build momentum, but he still turned to face the wizard, every instinct insisting that he couldn’t take his eyes off the little man for more than a moment.

He turned out to be right. If he’d turned his head half as fast he wouldn’t have had enough time to dodge the cudgel end of the staff, swung like a bat at the back of his skull. If he hadn’t been outmaneuvered at every step of this fight, he’d have assumed that swinging from the direction his bad eye was on was just luck. The fact that he knew it was intentional implied that his opponent had a level of martial expertise that even most knights lacked.

With no space to use the hammer, he used the next best weapon in his arsenal: His body. His leg snapped out hard, his massive height letting him connect the blow easily with the old man’s chest. He felt something give, and watched with some small satisfaction as the human went bouncing down the bridge’s center path

Well, he didn’t need an invitation.

He couldn’t move quite as the fast as he’d launched the mage away, but it was a close thing. The pause gave him time to get the momentum he needed to swing the hammer. He felt like an ox behind a cart, the weight behind building into something unblockable, undodgeable, un-

Unbelievable.

The little man ended his tumble on all fours, splayed like a tree frog. The hammer was already bearing down on him, too late in the swing for Breaker to change course, even as he watched the final twitch that signaled a ward was cast. The hammer slammed into the mages hunched back harmlessly, the force of the blow charging the ward like a magical battery. The maniacal grin the little man had worn ever since that first blitz widened half a step further, silver molars on full display, and then-

He flew. Rather than directing the force into some sort of attack, rather than buying himself time and space, the two classical friends of all mages, the little bastard directed all of his stored up energy downwards. The blast launched him up, bringing him from all fours at shin height to eye level in a fraction of a second. He probably would’ve headed up another six or seven feet if he hadn’t grabbed ahold of Breaker’s left horn. His upward momentum swung him full circle around it, his journey ending abruptly as he drove the armored soles of both of his decidedly un-wizardly boots into the back of Breaker’s skull.

If Breaker had been an ogre, or a nightkin, or even a giant, he’d have been out cold. But Breaker was a full-blooded troll, and the horns on his head weren’t just for ornamentation. If he charged a brick wall there was a coin flips chance he’d be the winner. The boots never stood a chance.

The wizard managed to get two more vicious, if slightly panicked kicks in before Breaker’s fists managed to catch up. They grabbed him by the collar of his coarse green robe and yanked him forward, over his shoulder. The old man looked slightly sheepish, dangling from the inhumanely large hands of his opponent.

Breaker cut to the chase.

“You could’ve killed me on the first charge.”

The mage nodded. There wasn’t a whole lot else he could do. His robes were caught so tightly in the troll’s grasp that they acted like a straitjacket.

“Why didn’t you?”

The wizard went for earnestness. He’d been told it was his saving grace.

“You did not deserve death. This is your bridge. I just could not afford the toll.”

The robe tightened further as the troll’s fist clenched.

“Do you wish that you killed me when you had the chance?”

The wizard snorted.

“Murder you, for the price of a goat? No. If I could make a wish, I’d wish I could swim.”

The troll let go with one fist, its thumb trailing back to its mouth. A large, sharp tooth clamped down on the meaty pad of the digit, drawing a thick bead of green blood. The wizard’s confusion blossomed into disgust as the ichor was smeared from his forehead to his chin.

“The fuck-”

His curse was interrupted by the troll.

“I have decided to make you kin. And my first gift to you, great kin, is to grant you your wish.”

The second fist, the one still gripping the front of the wizard’s robes, flung itself forward. The wizard barely had a moment to curse before plummeting into the water below.

Several seconds passed.

Breaker waited.

The wizard arose, sputtering, from the depths. He turned, trembling from the cold, the rage, and the sheer disbelief of what he was experiencing.

“It’s four feet deep.”

Breaker nodded.

“Yes.”

It was almost heartwarming, the way the wizard laughed as he began wading his way towards the far shore. Breaker’s hands gingerly roamed over the goose eggs growing from the back of his head, larger than his own horns had been when he’d passed the trials of manhood.

If nobody gave you headaches like kin, that little man was troll enough for a small army.

[shoyowo]

oikawa tooru is not a genuis

aka a meta analysis of Oikawa Tooru's hard-work & how it ties into his play-style as a setter

What comes to fruition in this episode/equivalent manga chapter has been built up and slowly put into place over the course of the last few chapters/eps, which is this - Oikawa Tooru is built up of pure effort & hard-work and not inherent talent.

Moreso than trying to put down the concept of people with natural talent, I feel this statement and this concept is more to hammer in Oikawa's character and the effort Oikawa as a person puts into the sport.

Inklings of this has always been present but the first definitive scene where we see this theme being furthered is when Oikawa gets the "Dateko vs Karasuno" match recording and watches it through the night. This is paralleled with Ukai doing the same - the extra mile is, obviously and normally, taken by Karasuno's Coach and not by any specific player in Karasuno. (Interestingly enough the anime ep title is "Coaches")

Curiously enough in Seijoh it is Oikawa that assumes the coach role. It isn't explained and the team isn't surprised, making it seem casual and normal. Oikawa calls for a time-out to his coach and his coach follows suit. He gathers his team around, explaining his findings on the team (through the homework that he had done) and devises a strategy to beat them - all things typically done by the coach.

To further drive this in, something as minute as the team's warm ups is used to show the amount of tiny details that Oikawa knows about each of his spikers - small encouragement for Makki, apologising to Kindaichi despite being his senior , and taunting Iwaizumi as per their usual dynamic.

Not only does he show it in his actions, he verbalises it before every match as a reminder. As a setter, he is someone who elevates his team - using the deep bond he has created with them as a vessel.

"Rule the court" is Seijoh's banner and while that isn't explicitly commented on, we do have multiple people commenting on how Seijoh as a team and by extension Oikawa as their setter/conductor play by taking control of each rally - by essentially ruling the court.

All of these puzzle pieces of Oikawa's grit and determination and pure, simple, effort, and him using sheer work to reach to his team & form that intimate bond with them by noticing tiny details about his own team (and his opponents), we finally reach the climax of this mini arc: at this moment, pit against the "natural prodigy" -

[swallowtail-lotus]

Potential Opponent {Thor x Goddess!Reader}

A repost from my old blog!

Still kinda in love with Thor ngl (I keep putting down thot instead of Thor, my fat fucking fingers-)

~~~~~~~~~

In the middle of a humungous field full of flowers, sat a beautiful woman, who was admiring the butterfly resting on her finger with an gentle smile on her face. She watched its wings move slowly, giving her time to take in the pretty pattern it has.

The silence that filled the air around her was comforting to her, as it represents how she's feeling right now. At peace.

"To think my home used to be this breathtaking..." You muttered, your smile slowly fading from your face. With your superhuman hearing, you heard the sounds of footsteps rushing towards you.

"Lady (Y/n)! The Lord would like to speak with you!" A female servant exclaimed, stopping beside your sitting figure. The butterfly has fled from the two of you as soon as the servant had stepped too close.

"Which Lord? Because if it's about those marriages, I'll keep refusing." You hissed with disgust, rolling your eyes at the mental images of the Lord's sons trying (and failing horribly) at courting you.

Reason is that you always challenge them to 1v1 matches, and so far, you haven't lost a single one.

"Lord Zihao wants you to-"

"Tell them I refuse and that I'm busy." You interrupted your servant, your eyes moving to glance at her. The female servant gulped at your stern side glance and nodded vigorously, taking off from you. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"These bastards clearly can't read the message." You grumbled, standing up from your spot and twirled around once, teleporting to a rather dark castle. You looked around, not finding anything familiar with the place.

"Shit, must've thought of the wrong thing."

You cursed yourself. As you were trying to make out anything, you felt a strong gust of wind hit your back. You quickly moved away, dodging whoever was trying to attack you.

"What the- Thor?!" You questioned, your gaze meeting his yellow eyes. Said God moved his hammer away from you when he heard your voice. You tried to see his face, but to no avail.

There was a deafening silence between the two of you. Without thinking, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to some light, relieved to see your love.

"So good to see you again!" You spoke up, trying to fill the silence. Thor look down at you, finally realising you and his face soften.

"Good to see you too, my love." He finally greeted you, a small smile on his face. His hands cupped your face and took his time to take in your features. He leaned down and kissed you softly. The gods didn't know who you were at all. All they knew was that you are a deity, just like them and Thor's love.

They recently noticed the two small blades attached to your hips, some wondering why you have them. This was confusing them a lot because you spent so much time admiring the flowers and playing with small animals. They think there was no need to keep whatever were attached to you when you have the strongest Norse God by your side.

If only they knew...

Twirling a single flower in your fingers, you smiled fondly at it. It was like your normal day, going to the gardens and admire the plants everywhere. You always loved nature, so you were given a garden as a gift.

Deciding you had enough time in the gardens, you placed the flower in your hair, walking out and in the hallways of the castle.

Stopping in your tracks, you reached for your blade on the left side. You felt something touch your shoulder, and out of instinct, you swung your right arm at the person, sending them flying. You sworn you felt your soul leave your body when you saw who you hit.

"I'm sorry, Thor! I tend to hit whoever startles me!" You exclaimed frantically, rushing over to your love. The God picked himself up with no problem, but his face was something of shock.

You noticed his lips curl up in a smirk, you know, that one and his eyes glowing bright.

Maybe you shouldn't have hit him...

[coffeeew]

→ genre: this is just rlly sad tbh, angst, established relationship, lovers to strangers.

→ pairing: boxer seungcheol x female reader.

→ feat: jungkook from bts.

→ warnings!: seungcheol turns into kind of an asshole, swearing, an actual physical fight happens, boxing y'know, mentions of overworking and relationship neglect, gaslighting? ITS SAD, don't you say I didn't warn you, also English's not my first language so excuse my grammar 💀

→ synopsis: Ambition was the trait that made you most attracted to Seungcheol, but lately it was the thing that has been tearing you apart.

→ word count: 5k-ish

"C'mon Cheol, kill that mother fucker!"

The holler coming out of your throat came out raspy and filled with enthusiasm and anxiety as you leaned into the ring and slammed both of your hands against it.

The screams inside the stadium seemed to increase after your voice stood out of the rest making a whole mess of the crowd.

Your eyes were filled with expectation but you could feel the anxiety in your stomach and how horribly worried you were about how tense your body was and the crippling headache that was starting to hammer on the back of your head.

Soonyoung gave you a small pat on the back for support as he stared with an expecting gaze at his apprentice.

Seungcheol's body fell back a little bit by a punch coming into his jaw, however, he didn't let his opponent take advantage of it and quickly responded with a hook that went straight to the guy's side.

You harshly bit your lip and felt how your eyes were filling up with tears by all the emotions going through your head.

You didn't always get a chance to come to your boyfriend's fights, but this always happened. The anxiety of a possible knockout always got the best of you even when Seungcheol had all the advantages.

You had seen how a match could totally turn around by just one hook or punch into the gut and how easily it was to knock out a person in two seconds, and even though you trusted Seungcheol with all your heart and supported him in this, it always worried you to death.

Seungcheol's opponent flinched and took two steps back from the loss of air that the hook gave him. However, Seungcheol didn't miss out on the opportunity to connect three more punches into the guy's jaw and head.

"Come on Seungcheol!"

And a final hook to the stomach was all it took to push the guy back and make him fall making the ring shake.

The referee quickly kneeled down to see the fighter's condition.

You took a quick breath and kept it in your lungs.

Please stay down and be okay, please stay down and be okay.

"Kang can't continue the fight, Choi wins!"

The referee's voice resonated on the whole stadium by the speakers and it went straight to your pounding head.

A solid scream came out of your mouth as you quickly slipped into the ring under the last rope and rushed your way to him.

Seungcheol turned your way and lifted both his fists letting out a victory scream before wrapping his arms around you.

You could feel his sweaty chest against your cheek but you grew used to it and never found it disgusting somehow.

You pulled out of the hug after a few seconds and grabbed his head with both your hands, leaving a long peck into his lips. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close to him.

Even though the kiss didn't have any movement, it had plenty of emotions. Excitement, pride, relief but all of those emotions came from the deep love you both had for each other.

The smile and eyes that your boyfriend gave you after pulling apart from the kiss made you melt into his gaze. His sweet dimples and shiny doe eyes make you lose your mind every time.

Sometimes you really questioned how he could look at you with such love and treat you with such care and gentleness when barely some seconds before he was connecting punches into another guy's body.

But it somehow brought you warmth and a feeling of fullness in your chest. It felt like you were the only person who had this side of him and that made you feel extremely selfish but also incredibly happy.

Your little moment was interrupted when Hoshi pushed Seungcheol's head to the side, moving both of your attention to the blonde haired trainer. who had a huge proud smile on his face.

"That's my boy!"

Hoshi gave Seungcheol a little punch in the arm as your boyfriend laughed and left your side to hug his trainer.

You pursed your lips in a smile noticing how the tears that filled your eyes were now wetting your cheeks. The feeling of pride could be felt on your whole body. You were so incredibly proud of him and how far he had gotten since the moment you two met, from the moment he told you he wanted to pursue boxing as a professional and how no one was on his side.

But you were, since the very beginning, and apparently that's all he needed.

You sniffled your nose and walked to them, wrapping both of their necks with your arms and pulling them down into a hug.

"I'm so proud of you."

Seungcheol laughed and Hoshi whined in a teasing way.

"You should've heard how fucking annoying he was."

Seungcheol was sitting on one of the benches that were in the locker room as you dried his head with a towel while he hissed and complained about his opponent's attitude before reaching the ring. You were still inside the stadium.

Seungcheol always liked to stay a little longer than everyone else to wash up and take time to relax after the fight. And he liked doing this more when you were there with him to be able to share a chat before going home to directly sleep.

"He had a lot of strength though, he almost took me out twice but I refused to lose to a prick like him."

A chuckle came out of your mouth stopping your movements to dry his hair and turning to him.

"So this was all a pride thing?"

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow.

"Babe, it's always a pride thing when it comes to boxing."

This time you were the one raising your eyebrow.

"I thought it was the love for the sport."

Seungcheol did a gesture with his hand brushing off the fact.

"Sure, sure, but mainly it's pride."

You let out a subtle giggle before continuing to dry his hair.

"Well, your pride, love, and talent have taken you really far, you know? People have been stopping me on the streets to ask me about you more often."

Seungcheol raised both of his eyebrows in surprise, his eyes lost at some point in the showers trying to process what you had said to him.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

You finished drying his hair leaving the towel on the bench before sitting down beside him.

A comfortable silence filled the locker room as you tilted your head and gave a loving smile to your partner.

Seungcheol turned to you, his still damp charcoal hair falling into his face and small drips of water on his skin. His eyes were deep and looked into yours with love.

You found yourself losing your train of thoughts really often when it came to Seungcheol. He was just mesmerizing to look at, he had beautiful porcelain skin that now you were used to seeing with bruises and scratches from the fighting and his whole aura was just breathtaking.

You could feel yours filling up with tears once again.

The overwhelming feeling of pride and love filling your chest made you feel weak but at the same time so much strength.

"I'm so proud of you, I will always be."

Seungcheol's eyes suddenly we're not steady anymore, his eyebrows frowned to the center of his face and his eyes wandered around your whole face as if he was trying to memorize every single detail on it as his tongue licked his lips. He felt so lost in his thoughts before his dimples welcomes you into his smile as he pulled you by the neck into a warm hug.

If you felt mesmerized by your partner's presence you couldn't even imagine how you made him feel. Seungcheol loved every single part of you and was pretty sure he could draw your face on a perfect picture if he actually knew how to draw.

He knew every single wrinkle, mole, freckle and pore of your face from memory and would never grow tired of observing it for hours on end.

There were times where you would go on dates to the movies, or just have movie nights at home, or when you fell asleep faster than him or when he woke up first. And those were the moments that Seungcheol took to just stare into your face, body and almost soul. He would never grow tired of looking at you and every single time he did, he could feel how his chest grew tighter and how the love for you just grew and grew.

You chuckled into his skin that now smelled like soap and the minty scent of the cream he uses for soreness. The warmth brought by his body was so welcoming, cozy and it just felt right. Felt like you were supposed to be there and that you belonged there, with him.

His arms tighten against your body and you could feel how he let out a deep sigh.

"I love you so much, please never doubt that."

You were taken a bit back by the last words but you brushed it off, tightening your hold too.

"I won't."

The small bell rang as your entrance was announced in the old cafeteria.

It smelled like peanuts and cigarettes even though they didn't sell any products that contained peanuts, however, people smoking inside the establishment was common.

It didn't have the best coffee in the city, however, it had a 4 espresso shot iced Americano option and was open at the hour you needed it to be, so you grew to love it.

Also, the owner and cashier in there knew you and you had kind of formed a small friendship with them out of the 2 consecutive years you have religiously visited the establishment.

"Good morning Y/n, the usual?"

Jungkook gave you a gentle smile.

You smiled back and nodded.

"Good morning Gguk, yes, the usual, please. "

The black-haired man tapped the counter before responding.

"On the way."

You sighed and leaned back on your right leg, letting the left one rest as you patiently waited for your order.

It was 6:43 am, you entered work at 7:15 am and you were about a block away from the school you gave classes at.

You were an art teacher at a middle school. You had an art degree and even though you didn't specialize in any education ambit, you still ended up in there.

Actually, you ending up on a full time job there was never in your plans. Your father had insisted for you to apply to this school where his friend had retired as an art teacher and they were looking for a new one.

It took some pleading but you eventually agreed to do it as a part time job as you grew like an independent artist, however, you grew to fall in love with the job.

You adored teaching those middle schoolers and loved seeing them grow and take trust in you, so eventually you took it as a full time job.

"I saw you on TV."

You blinked, getting off your train of thought to look back at Jungkook. He was not looking at you, concentrated on his actions as he prepared your order.

"Really?"

You could see the start of a smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, your guy really showed off, when I saw the height difference it got me a little nervous, but he handle it damn well."

He chuckled.

A feeling of pride filled your chest, every time someone mentioned Seungcheol. You gave him a closed lips smile.

"He was great."

You nodded.

"He's always great."

Jungkook didn't respond, opting for starting a new conversation.

"So, how's work?"

You shrugged.

"It's been good, been having a bit of trouble with some parents though."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Is that so? Can I know why?"

You sighed and looked up, remembering the situation.

"To make it short, some parents dislike renaissance art, I have been having this problem for a while now, they were even going to start joining signatures to get me removed from the school and stuff."

Your response was followed by a quick glance Jungkook took at you before he was putting your order on the bar.

"That sounds awful, but I'm assuming everything is good now."

You nodded with a subtle smile.

"Yeah, everything's good now."

Jungkook smiled back and sighed before leaning away from the counter.

"Well, there's your beverage than, enjoy."

You quickly reached out for your bag in look for your credit card to pay the order but Jungkook interrupted your actions with his words.

"Leave it, Y/n that's on the house, in honor of Choi Seungcheol winning and you keeping your job."

You frowned and raised an eyebrow at him before continuing your search.

"I appreciate it Kookie but it wasn't me who won, and I can pay for it, you know?"

Jungkook chuckled.

"Oh, I know, but it's still my treat."

He pushed the cup of cold coffee in your direction before taking two septs back.

"Don't be ridiculous Jungkook, I'm pa-"

But the moment you raised your head to face him he was not on the place you had last seen him. You turned to the kitchen entrance and saw how his body disappeared inside.

"Oh, come on! Just let me play Jeon Jungkook."

"Bye, Y/n!"

You let out a huff and stared at the cup of coffee.

Sometimes you questioned Jungkook's weird way of acting towards you but Yoongi, the owner of the coffee shop insisted that he was like that with most people he liked (not in a romantic way) so you had nothing to worry about.

It was nice to talk to Jungkook though... you can't recall the last time you talked about your professional life with someone.

Your fingers lazily tapped the code into the apartment's door before it unlocked and opened.

A feeling of pressure immediately left your shoulders as you came inside your home, closing the door behind you and immediately getting rid of your shoes and hanging your bag on the cloak rack.

"I'm home~"

You said in a loud tone for your partner to hear you, however, you were surprised to notice all the lights turned off and a complete silence inside the apartment.

You frowned.

"Babe?"

Was he not back from training yet?

You took your phone out of your back pocket, turning it on.

A picture of Seungcheol hugging you by the shoulders and leaving a kiss in your temple that was taken by Month was your wallpaper and the hour of 8:16 pm said hi to you.

He should already be back.

Maybe he went out to buy something to eat but there was no sign of him even arriving. His gym bag was missing and so was the cap he always used to go training.

Maybe you had missed a text from him saying that he was going to spend extra time training.

Your fingers tapped the screen of your cellphone entering your messages and seeing no sign of one from Seungcheol.

"Well, that's weird."

You said to yourself as you walked directly to the room you shared with him as you entered the phone app and tapped into his name turning the phone to your ear as you opened the door.

But it went straight into voice mail.

Your frown deepened.

Was he okay? Was he already on his way? Did he go out to eat with Bang Chan? His phone ran out of battery?

The thing was that Seungcheol never let his phone run out of battery and he always made you aware of any delay of his arrival at home.

Maybe you were overreacting but maybe he was in trouble, I mean, he was now quite famous.

Maybe someone stole his phone.

You decided to call Soonyoung as you sat down on your bed.

It only rang two times before he replied.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Hoshi-ah."

"Hi Y/n, is everything ok?"

You nodded even though he couldn't see you.

"Yeah, yeah, I was just wondering if Cheol it's still with you. He hasn't gotten home and his phone is turned off."

There was a pause of some seconds before Hoshi responded.

"I mean, he left right when the training ended, he didn't even take a shower, he said he had some urgent stuff to do but I didn't question him."

"Oh..."

His answer left you puzzled.

He had stuff to do?

"Is everything okay?"

You blinked, snapping out of your train of thought.

"Oh, yeah yeah, just... call me if you know anything."

"Sure thing."

"Okay, thank you Hoshi-ah."

"No worries, girl, bye."

"Bye~"

He hung up.

Seungcheol had urgent stuff to do after training that he didn't tell you about.

I mean, yes he could have his things and maybe secrets but this was so unlike him.

You felt uneasy for some reason.

Come on Y/n, 4 years of relationship and he hasn't even once done something like this, and the first time he does you question everything.

You let your phone fall out of your hand and passed a hand through your hair.

"I'm being ridiculous."

You decided to let it be for now and go wash up. It was a stressful day. Apparently, a parent had complained, yet again, that you were being inadequate with your work when you thought your students about Renaissance art and their child had said you showed breasts and private body parts in class.

To your luck, the principal sided with you, yet again, and it didn't cause more than a headache from explaining to a middle age woman about how you couldn't censor art and such.

"Come on, a boob's not going to bite him."

But apparently, your comment was only funny to yourself.

You had finished washing up and were now drying your hair with a microfiber towel as you stared at your phone.

9:22 pm.

No text messages or calls from Seungcheol and you had tried to call him 8 times more just to be sent straight to voicemail again.

Was he really okay?

You pursed your lips, leaving the towel aside and grabbing your phone, and looking at it as if you staring deep into it was going to make a message or phone call appear.

You were really worried now. Maybe he had an accident... What if he was in a traffic accident and was now in a coma at the hospital?

"Oh shut the fuck up."

You said to yourself as you let out a deep sigh, letting your head fall back and close your eyes. 

But then the noise of the door's code being pulsed in made you jump in your place and practically run to the front door. 

You stumbled on your own feet but were there on time to see Seungcheol coming in. 

He was wearing his black cap even though it was now completely dark outside at this point. He let the gym bag fall to his feet as he took his shoes off.

"Babe?"

You called out making Seungcheol quickly lift his gaze and look at you. His eyes looked extremely tired and his body looked tense. 

"Hi, sweetheart."

Even though he looked completely drained he still gave you a sweet smile, oh how you loved those fucking dimples.

He walked to you and wrapped your body into a hug. He buried his nose on your freshly washed hair taking a deep breath as he held you close to him.

The warmth of his body made your own body melt against him, closing your eyes and passing your hands through his back, caressing it. 

"You're home late."

Your voice was million times more calm now and you could feel how all the anxiety and overwhelming feeling of worry left your body the moment he hugged you tight. 

"Yes, I'm sorry, my phone ran out of battery and I think someone stole my charger, couldn't find anyone who could borrow me theirs."

You just nodded after he finished talking, understanding the situation.

He pulled away from the hug and left a long kiss on your forehead. 

You closed your eyes to the feeling of his soft lips against your skin. 

A smile brushed your cheeks. 

"Where were you?"

He stared at your face for some seconds. Your eyes are closed, long eyelashes brush the top of your cheeks and your damp hair perfectly framing your face. A feeling of warmth started to fill his chest and his smile grew even larger. He was lucky to have you just as you were lucky to have him. 

"I just had extra training with Mingyu, I didn't tell Hoshi 'cause he gets all dramatic, you know him." 

You chuckled and nodded.

See? You got all anxious for nothing, you dramatic fucker. 

You opened your eyes and left a small peck on his lips before you two walked to your room.

"Did you have dinner?"

The question came out of your mouth as you went inside the bathroom again to put the products you used in their place. 

"Yeah, I grabbed a bite with Gyu!"

You could hear his voice coming out from the closet.

His answer made you a little bit sad. Dinner was always kind of your bonding time on busy weeks like this. But it was okay, you always had other days.

The thing is that the days of Seungcheol arriving late started to be even more frequent as time went by. And even though it made sense since he had to train harder as his rank and popularity grew, it still made you feel the sudden emptiness at home. 

The hour of his arrival was also becoming more uncertain and it kept being later and later and his part from home being earlier and earlier. 

It got to the point where you only saw him for some minutes in the morning and on Sundays, which were his rest days.

So it was just him laying down in bed, not up for pretty much anything. 

His attitude also started to change, now when he got home he didn't really announce himself, it went from spending the first minutes of his arrival hugging you and saying how much he missed you to him barely acknowledging you and going straight to take a shower to sleep. 

And you tried to take de initiative. You offered body massages that he declined saying he already had a physiotherapist to do that. The times you went up to him and said you missed him, he got a bit annoyed and said you were being clingy. You invited him to dinner which he also declined saying he didn't have time for going out and when you offered to cook at home he instantly complained at how insistent you were being and how it was easier for him to just have dinner with Mingyu or Hoshi. 

You also tried to offer to go out on Sundays, but it was obviously quickly turned down by him too. 

"Y/n, this is literally the only day I get to be at home and you want to go out, give me a break for god's sake."

But it seemed like he just didn't want to spend time with you because he also wasn't up for doing anything but staying in bed looking at his phone, and even though you were right beside him, he didn't acknowledge you once. 

And it hurt. 

It hurt to see your prospering relationship that had remained strong for 4 years starting to fall apart as his career was taking off. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a bad moment, that you could pass through it, and that it was going to be gone soon. 

But as the days, weeks, and months passed by your hopes were starting to become weaker and weaker. 

Seungcheol was drowning himself in his passion, so greedy and ambitious. That ambition that you once adored was now the reason your whole relationship was flaking. 

Your hands were shaky as you were once again waiting for him. 

01:42 am was the hour marked on your phone. 

The apartment was freezing cold, but that's how Seungcheol had always liked it and it didn't bother you since he always made sure you didn't go through cold by keeping you close. But the nights now were horrible. You had to sleep with a sweatshirt on and a blanket over your head and the ache of his body turning to the opposite side of yours. And every time you tried to wrap your arms around him he just whined in his sleep and brushed your arms out. 

You remember the first time it happened it broke your heart, tears filled your eyes and you practically cried yourself as he slept safe and sound. 

It was now almost every night where you cried yourself to sleep while he was on the same bed, not noticing. 

You lifted your head at the sound of the code being pushed into the principal door, making you straighten your back and look over the sofa to see how Seungcheol's figure closed the door behind him, tossing his gym bag on the floor and getting rid of his cap and shoes. 

Your fists gripped into the hoodie you were wearing. It was his and it brought you comfort, comfort you had been looking for for the past months.

Seugncheol started to walk to the room but you stopped him.

"Babe."

He stopped on his feet before slowly turning to you. 

You knew your eyes were glassy and your nose and lips were still a bit red because of the crying. God, you had been crying so much for the past months. 

"You're awake."

"Yeah, I-... I wanted to have a chat with you."

Seungcheol frowned narrowing his eyes to see you better.

"Have you been crying?"

You stiffened. That was straightforward. 

"Anyways, I'm really tired, can we talk about this on Sunday? I have to be up really early and my back is killing me-"

He really brushed off the fact that you were crying so quickly. It was the first time he had acknowledged that factor in months and he just brushed it off as if it was normal. 

Has he noticed before but just opted for not saying anything?

You swallowed the question.

"No, it really can't wait, just- please Cheol, just give me some minutes, please."

He was hesitant, but he just heavily sighed and nodded walking towards the sofa and sitting down beside you, keeping his distance like he had been doing for a long time now.

You pursed your lips in nervousness, feeling the ache in your chest grow wider.

You had never felt this anxious to talk to your partner about anything, which just made you feel even worse. 

We have really grown distant. 

"Just make it quick, I really need to sleep."

His carelessness made your chest hurt and your tears fill up with tears however you swallowed the sob that was wanting to come out of your mouth for the past seconds and nodded. 

"I- You know that I've always been supportive of your career, and I'm probably the person who is most proud of you in this world. I love to see how you're doing so well in your professional life and how successful you've become. The mere thought of it makes my chest fill with pride and joy."

You tried to look for his eyes, however, Seungcheol's eyes were pasted on his own hands. And that was so unlike him, he always used to look at you in the eyes and hold your hands during talks like this. 

That only made your chest hurt even more, did he really change that much without you noticing?

Who are you?

"However, I've grown to notice that... well you just don't give our relationship time anymore, it seems like you don't care anymore."

Not a single expression was formed on his face as your voice broke on the sentence and the tears wet your cheeks. 

However, once you finished talking he raised his gaze to meet yours, and for a moment, just for a moment, you saw love in them. For a second you thought that maybe he was going to apologize and tell you that he was going to make an effort, however, he didn't. 

"I've been thinking about that too and, you know... I think I want to fully concentrate on my career, as you said, I don't have any time for us anymore so I don't see why we should keep going." 

You gasped as more tears flew down your cheeks.

He was giving up that easily? Just throwing away almost 5 years of relationship to the trash? He wasn't even going to try a little bit? 

"Just like that?"

He seemed to be taken aback by your response.

"Well, yeah, I've talked about it with my manager and-"

Of course, his manager. 

Jay fucking Park, the man who had been telling Seungcheol since the beginning of his career how he should leave you be sure you slowed his career down, and the same manager that Seungcheol had said hundreds of times he was going to replace because he didn't like the way he referred to you. 

Your head stopped listening to him.

"So this really is it?"

You interrupted. 

Seungcheol stayed quiet for some seconds.

"I... I guess so."

You sniffled as you felt more tears wet your cheeks.

"Do you not love me anymore?"

"Of course, I do, that- God Y/n please don't make this harder, I can't see you cry and you know it."

It was the first time he broke. His voice broke into a sudden sob followed by a defeated sigh.

You curled into yourself, hugging yourself and looking away before he continued talking.

"That's why I'm doing this, I love you so much that I have to let you go."

"Fucking bullshit."

You said in between your teeth followed by a loud sob. You looked back at him just to find his glassy eyes and reddened nose. 

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it. That fucking sentence's for cowards and you're no fucking coward."

He stayed silent so you continued.

"Ha-ave you ever thought that loving is also hanging on a-and persisting and trying every single fucking day even though you constantly get told to fuck off? Cause that's what I've been doing for the past 4 months s-so don't you fucking dare say you love me so much and that's why you kept- kept ignoring me and pushing me off. Leaving me to cry myself to sleep for days in a row and showing no interest in me at all."

You sobbed in between sentences and stuttered on your words. Sadness and anger mixed in your gut and making you feel like throwing up.

"I've been grieving a relationship that didn't even end yet... do you even know how useless and pathetic I felt?"

Seungcheol sniffled and let out a quiet sob, he passed his hands through his hair.

"I-Iam sorry, I just... I'm sorry but I think this is the best for me, for us." 

You shook your head as you contained another sob.

"It sure isn't the best for me, but if it is for you and tha-thats what you want then... then I'm sorry for 'wasting your good years.' "

You said, quoting what you have heard his manager tell him many times before.

It happened so quickly. The way you just stood up and packed a bag with your essentials while shedding ugly tears. How he just remained silent on the umbral of the door, passing his hands through his face and hair. 

In reality, Seungcheol was heartbroken. His chest was hurting and he was fighting with all his will the urge he had to hug you tight and apologize and beg you not to leave. But he had been totally brainwashed into thinking this was the best for him. Everyone except for his main trainer had insisted that a girlfriend only slowed him down and they have gotten so deep into his head that he fell to believe them. 

He was gaslighted by the people he most admired on the medium into thinking this was the best for him. 

But something inside him knew that it was wrong. 

She was always there for you. She never even tried to slow you down once, always insisting on you taking every single opportunity even if it meant for your time together to shorten. She was the only person who always truly believed in you, the only person who truly celebrated each one of your wins as if it was hers.

But Seungcheol had grown greedy, drunk on his own ambition. 

And the moment you passed beside him and rushed to the door with tears still falling down your cheeks and a broken heart, something snapped on Seungcheol. 

He followed you to the door and held into your wrist as you were about to walk out of the apartment, out of the life you two had created and out of the life Seungcheol had made miserable.

You just turned to him, something inside you still holding hope for him to try, to not let go, to agree about doing something about it, and not just cowardly take the easiest option. 

His glistening eyes stared into your red ones.

His eyes went from yours to getting lost in your features like he loved to do after every single tiring day. 

Seungcheol was a coward.

He stared into your long eyelashes, your beautiful nose, your once soft lips that even though they were chapped now, were still as beautiful as ever, your soft and beautiful eyes and the hair that he loved to play with and that it still perfectly framed your face.

Seungcheol pursed his lips.

"I love you, never doubt that."

You stayed silent, memories of him repeating those same words months ago in a locker room where you thought your relationship was going to be prosperous and infinite. But everything has a due date, and apparently, today was yours. 

You pulled your wrist back with weird care and took a step toward him. 

Both of you stared into each other's eyes before he leaned in for a kiss, a kiss that you corresponded to. 

Tears fell down your eyes to your cheeks, lips, and neck, meeting with his own lips at some point and feeling his own tears two.

The kiss was slow, filled with yearning, bittersweet love, and a salty ending.

You pulled away, fearing that you will beg once more for his attention and time, but you weren't going to hurt your dignity more than it already was. 

"You made me doubt it."

You answered before finally turning away and leaving, closing the door behind you and not turning back.

Seungcheol stared at the door for minutes which felt like hours before he fell to his knees.

He stared into his calloused palms, palms which you used to kiss and caress with love.

"You're gold, man, you're one of the little people in this world to let ambition get the best and not the worst of them. Keep your heels on the floor, Choi."

The words Hoshi once told him drowned his head.

Ambition had gotten the worst of him.

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Vexgit

CR 1

Lawful Evil Tiny Fey

Bestiary 2, pg. 145 (Image from 2nd Edition's Bestiary 2, pg. 134)

Among the most dangerous breed among the Gremlins, the Vexgits are banes and blights in the civilized world, and can quickly spell doom for any structure they manage to infest, to say nothing of everyone inside. Every bit as weak and wimpy as the other CR 1 Gremlins featured on this blog so far, like all of them a Vexgit is not a direct threat to the party that pops out of the walls to battle them, but a background danger to the party's belongings, allies, and homes. They're not threatening the party with their hammer, they're threatening to knock out a support beam, trapping the party in a collapsing home with them!

Vexgit are not combatants, they're worse: saboteurs. They LIVE to rip apart and repurpose existing devices, turning everything from clockwork machines to simple wagon wheels into tools of inconvenience, harm, or even death. Their danger isn't in their attacks--they struggle to deal lethal damage with either their tiny warhammer (1d4-2) or bite (1d3-2)--but what they can do if they're not stopped before they settle in, using their +9 to Disable Device checks to jam locks, loosen wheels, strip nails, and generally make nuisances of themselves. While normally disabling any device is a time-consuming process, Vexgit are Speedy Saboteurs, lowering the time it takes to sabotage any device by one stage.

If you've never looked at the speed chart for Disable Device, take a moment to do so now. See how a 'simple item,' such as a normal lock, mundane hinge, or a rope and pulley, takes 1 round to sabotage? Vexgit can sabotage 'simple' items as a free action once per round as long as it's within their reach, letting them pull off malicious acts mid-combat if they so wish. While this typically boils down to jamming door locks after running through them so the party cannot follow (or becomes trapped), it does also mean they typically have the time to perform more elaborate follow-ups. Since they can perform simple sabotage as a free action, they can then use the rest of their round sabotaging something rated 'tricky,' such as a wheel, a larger item held together with screws or nails, or a simple siege weapon to hamper the party more severely than they would if they simply attacked with their weapon.

Vexgit prefer to lure opponents to them rather than the other way around, as their penchant for recycling disassembled items into traps either via their Craft (Traps) skill of +5 or the Snare spell they can use 1/hour makes any infested areas a death trap that requires extremely careful navigation. They're more likely to simply flee any fight they get into, and they have a good chance of getting away; they can easily scamper up any surface thanks to their 20ft climb speed, protected by their DR 5/Cold Iron, while their 12 Spell Resistance shields them from retributive magic cast by unlucky mages. Their DR is especially hard to pierce thanks to their 1/hour Rusting Grasp dissolving any weapon brought into their reach, so if only one party member has a cold iron cudgel, the group will be in for a... well, not a hard time, but a slightly more annoying time, because like most gremlins the Vexgit have only 8 hitpoints and a moderate 15 AC, going down in just a few swings from any weapon that deals more than 6 damage per round.

Easy for a party, less so for the common man. I've said this before about other gremlins, but their resilience makes them difficult for commoners and low-level guards to clear out, so they're perfect little horrors for a party to be sent after without making the local guards look incompetent. When the little bastards can reach out and turn your equipment to ash while you're dangling upside-down over a latrine, you'd probably be inclined to let mercenaries handle it, too.

Especially if there's a lot of them. Vexgits can form insanely dangerous Wrecking Crews in groups as small as six, bolstering one member's Disable Device checks from +9 to +19 if each of them spends their turn contributing to the sabotage, letting them rip apart almost anything in less than a minute... or swiftly reset any traps that may have already gotten sprung, making the trip out of a gremlin's lair just as painful as the trip in. While on their own a Vexgit is content with causing injuries and humiliation with their pranks, when a whole crew of Vexgits is present, it becomes a race against time to track them down and destroy them all, because full infestations aren't satisfied with anything less than full-blown death and mayhem, driven to destroy greater and greater structures until whole city blocks are crumbling to ruin because of them.

You can read more about them here.