wrldhoon

[wrldhoon]

sigils and sin (m)

02 ── .✦

⋆˚★ pairing: enhypen ༝ fem.ᐟreader

word count — 7.5k

౨ৎ masterlist

synopsis ⊹ ࣪ ˖ war. power. loss. love. secrets. sin. you were trained to do many things. that was why you chose to be here. the dragon-riding quadrant of the notorious Veirthorne Academy. they trained you to fight, to win, to survive. yet, they never taught you to be human.

genre(s) ᯓ fantasy, angst, slow-burn, multiple love interests, smut

⤷ warnings: explicit content, violence, death, graphic depictions of injury

ꨄ︎ note: spent all day writing this and i really enjoyed it tbh... a bit longer than the first chapter BUT new characters have been introduced so YAYYY!! next chap will prob take longer since im busy all weekend but hopefully that means it will be longer.. happy reading! <3

02 ─ the culling

anger.

to lose control is to place a weapon in your own hands, its edge pointing outwards.

a weapon that wounds.

one that kills.

deadly, powerful, and all consuming.

it courses through your veins until there is more feeling than blood—the one thing that served as a reminder that you were still human.

you could feel the warm trickle of scarlet coat your fingers, slowly dripping onto the gravel beneath your feet. his eyes glanced down at your hand, and not once did his expression falter. “you’re bleeding, cadet.”

your gaze never left his face.

you hated it.

you hated that annoying look on his face whenever he saw you, like it was uniform.

you hated his eyes. deep, brown eyes that seemed just a little too empty.

you hated his lips. the way the corners turned up in a smug smile.

you hated him.

“i know that,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“then, you better go get that fixed. wouldn’t want you bleeding out like this during training, do we?”

“of course, sir,” your tone was mocking. you watch his eyes narrow, jaw tightening in pure annoyance. you knew the healers had returned to their rightful quadrant already. the next time you see a healer would be at the next big trial—whenever that may be. you knew he knew that, too.

jake.

your thoughts drifted to him, his sweet smile and gentle hands. you had barely met him, but he emitted this sense of warmth that loosened the tight coils of your fears. the kind of person that made you feel like the world could burn, but as long as he was alive, you could be at peace.

as if maybe, just maybe, all the light hadn’t been stripped from the world just yet.

you hoped to see him again.

the boy turned his attention to the group before him. “i will be your squad leader for the remainder of your time here. this group, this section, this squad—it does not guarantee your survival. you have been assigned to the most dangerous, unpredictable section within this quadrant, because that is what you are. that means those around you are, too. death is inevitable. so, prepare for it. become it. anyone can be your enemy, whether it is today, tomorrow, or for the rest of your life,”

your thoughts drifted off to that girl.

the one who pushed you on the stairs.

your eyes scanned the rows of cadets around you.

there were fifteen of you total, excluding your dear squad leader.

she was no where in sight.

you took mental note of that. from now on, you knew she would come after you. you could feel it.

“there are no formal events scheduled for the rest of the night. we will take you to your barracks—allow you all to settle in. get in as much sleep as you can tonight. you will need it for tomorrow,” with that, he turned on his heels and began moving forward. the rest of you followed along behind him. you weave through a few people before reaching the person you had been looking for since you had left jake.

your steps fell into line with hers. sensing your presence, she turned in your direction. her eyes widened in surprise, a cheery grin gracing her features.

she was pretty.

“oh thank Gods, you’re here too? i was worried i’d never see you again after today,” you returned the gesture.

“i don’t die easily,” it was a joke, but she could tell it stung. just a little bit.

she slid her arm into the nook of your elbow, “well, from now on i will make sure you don’t die at all. we will be making it to third year together. it is my personal mission to break that stigma.”

you gaped at her in surprise.

third year.

rumor had it that not many cadets even survived long enough to make it past the first week.

living long enough to make it through first year was already a high accomplishment in itself.

“i’m hana, by the way. i never got to ask for your name ‘cause.. y’know. near-death and all,” you let out a soft chuckle at that. “y/n.”

“okay, it’s settled then. y/n and hana—making it to third year together!”

she was way too happy considering she almost died just a few hours ago.

maybe you needed someone like that, though.

that glimmer of hope to drown out your fear.

hope in a world overwhelmed with suffering.

you gave each other a knowing look before turning your attention back towards the front. the cobblestone walls of the riders quadrant was decorated with moss and vines. its cracks and rough corners emphasized the age of the academy. you noticed the slight divots underneath your feet.

hundreds, thousands of cadets had walked this very same path.

some for the very last time, others on their way to becoming riders.

you wondered if you could live long enough to consider yourself one of them.

“this will be your sleeping quarters. training begins at dawn. i expect you to be there on time,” and with that, he left.

you watched as his figure retreated down the hallway, his eyes briefly locked with yours once he had reached the end of it. then, he turned the corner.

he was gone.

something about his gaze sent chills up your spine. you didn’t know what it was, but it would be at the back of your mind for the rest of the night.

everyone settled into their respective beds. you chose the bed right in the middle beside hana. the minute the door had shut, you felt it. there was something eery about the barracks.

the atmosphere.

it was… tense.

a type of tension that felt deadly.

you tried not to dwell on it too much, but that feeling.

that gut feeling—it never left.

suddenly, the torches went out. a strong gust of wind blew across the room, causing everyone to shudder. you laid on the thin mattress, the sad excuse of a blanket pulled up to your chin. it was freezing. your body trembled lightly. the sheet did little to keep you warm, to ease your nerves.

then, a choked gasp was heard.

you immediately sat up, head snapping towards the source of the sound. you froze. the sight in front of you left you speechless.

the boy from earlier.

the one with the broken arm.

he had one end of a rolled up sheet in his fist, the other end between his bared teeth.

he was choking someone, strangling them with the shredded cloth.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” someone shouted, rushing over in attempt to save them. their face had turned a nasty shade of red, then blue. their nails were digging into the boy’s arm, scratching at him till he bled.

he looked over his shoulder, his gaze sharp. in one swift movement, he turned, his fist flying straight towards the cadet’s face.

crack.

the punch was powerful enough to knock her down, hands over her nose as she cried out in pain. he had broken her nose and Gods know what other bones in her face. he was strong. horrifyingly, so. you could feel your heart pounding in your ears. it muffled the sounds of chaos emitting from the other cadets.

“you have been assigned to the most dangerous, unpredictable section within this quadrant, because that is what you are.”

“anyone can be your enemy, whether it is today, tomorrow, or for the rest of your life.”

that was what he said.

but this was what he meant.

loyalty was not a given just because you were in the same squad.

“they are your family.”

a lie.

deception weaved between hopeful words, spoken with promise.

this wasn’t family.

this was survival.

and survival had only one rule.

to kill.

anyone can be your enemy, and that meant everyone was.

you leaned over the empty space between you, gripping hana’s arm and dragging her onto your bed. “they’re going to start killing each other.”

you could see the fear etched into her features, “but i thought—”

“no, hana. remember where we are. what we are trying to become. this is not a game,” everything began to piece itself together in your head.

“there are only so many dragons willing to bond each year. there are hundreds of us. dragons don’t bond with weak humans, remember?” you reminded her, hands tightening around her shoulders as if to ground her, to keep her from completely losing her mind in this moment.

the weak—they die first or they die at the hands of a dragon.

“the parapet, that guy?” she nodded her head, her whole body locked up in fear.

“he tried to kill you. and me. that didn’t end just because we made it across,” you could see the realization settle, her skin underneath your fingers suddenly feeling hot.

“this—this is cruel! this isn’t human! i don’t want to kill someone that’s fighting for the same thing i am!” you could see tears prick at her eyes.

you knew then.

she was scared.

weak.

that meant she was a target.

you knew being tied to her would make you one, too.

you had to make another choice.

kill her and turn into the monster you had sworn to become when you stepped foot on to that bridge, or protect her and cling onto the part of you that was still human.

you thought back to your family. what would they think of you if you had succumbed to the desire to kill? would they feel disgusted, horrified by who you were becoming? or would they praise you for surviving? Gods, was it cruel. to survive as a rider, you had to let go of humanity. it all made sense, too, which terrified you. you were here to fight for a spot—a bond.

dragons themselves, they’re monsters. you couldn’t escape that fate even if you tried, unless you were weak. unless a dragon deemed you unworthy and burned you to ashes on the spot.

unless you die.

“you don’t have to kill anyone. you just need to live.” your words left a bitter taste in your mouth, because you knew it was a lie.

this was just the beginning.

it starts with deceit.

then, it spirals into something savage.

a vicious truth you can never come back from.

all hell had broken loose.

cadets—some went for the kill, others stayed alert and chose to avoid conflict at all costs.

some kills were successful, others weren’t. their failures birthed resentment. they sparked grudges and fueled rivalries that would not be forgotten until death.

then, there was blood.

it stained the walls, flowed like connecting rivers along the ground. the only evidence that those people ever lived. their bodies had been thrown over the side, hitting the concrete below with a painful thud.

it was brutal.

the scent of death. it made you sick. you could feel the bile rising in your throat, yet you forced it back down. you couldn’t show weakness. you already had a giant target on your back. so, you didn’t sleep. you forced yourself to stay awake, to watch. the moment you fell asleep, a hand could reach for your throat, a blade could sink itself into your heart.

so you sat there. right in the middle of the storm.

you prayed.

you prayed that your body would stay awake from pure adrenaline, that if someone lunged at you now, you would be able to react without hesitation.

without fear.

you allowed it to dissolve, slip between your fingers and get buried beneath everything else. you stored it away in a tiny, little box in your mind. you couldn’t afford to be afraid, because fear gets you killed.

to survive, you had to become it.

by the time dawn had arrived, there were eleven of you left.

four people—dead.

hana was curled up beside you, her hands wrapped tightly around your arm, using your presence as an anchor to reality. your eyes were dry and irritated from being open for so long. a gentle breeze stirred the air. you could see the sun rising above the horizon from where you sat. you made it through the first day.

three years was starting to look a lot less doable.

the door creaked open.

a boy, one you hadn’t seen before, stood at the archway. all eyes fell on him.

he scanned the room, noticing the sudden decrease in cadets. his expression was unreadable. you could see the faint shadow of his stubble across his jaw, his dark brown hair falling just below his eyes. there was a scar on his left eyebrow, cutting dangerously close to his eyelid.

“training begins in twenty minutes. gather your things and meet in the hall once you are ready. your squad leader is not particularly fond of late attendance,” he ignored the blood. he didn’t even bother asking about the four missing people. he treated it like it was normal, and maybe, it was.

you stood up from your bed, slipping on your boots. hana did the same, but her movements seemed more sluggish. she hadn’t slept a wink, either. after the events of yesterday, you were sure you would drop dead in a few hours. your body was exhausted, bruised, bleeding, and you had no time to properly rest. the cuts on your palms had reopened. you could feel the sting every time your hands flexed to tie your laces together. the once clean gauze was now a dull brown color. your torso felt raw, the bruising always being worse the second day, but they didn’t care. no matter what injuries you may have, it didn’t matter. bruised ribs and broken arms were an occupational hazard—came with the job.

you pushed the pain down into that same little box you had made up in your head. the more you focused on the sting and the ache, the worse it would feel.

you followed the others outside of the room, hana trailing behind you. you could sense she had been thinking all night, her brain trying to justify everything all at once.

regret, shame, and fear.

she felt it all. now, she couldn’t back out. it was too late.

your only way out of the rider’s quadrant was to die.

the training room was big; big enough to hold sixteen people.

the room had everything a rider-in-training could ask for. sparring mats laid across the floor, spaced apart with perfect precision. punching bags hung on one end of the room, while the other end had a wall lined with weapons.

real weapons. not sparring sticks and wooden swords, but real ones. the steel glistened as sunlight reflected off of it.

all the cadets stood in orderly formation. you chose to ignore the four empty spaces behind you. at the front stood squad leader yang, the male from earlier, a woman, and two other men you had never seen before. they all emitted the same energy.

powerful, cunning, and unforgiving.

pure blood dragon riders.

“made it on time, i see.”

yang.

your eye twitched in annoyance, or exhaustion; you weren’t sure. you ignored his remark, gaze turning towards the unfamiliar faces.

the woman—she had short pink hair that stopped right above her shoulders. with her outfit, you could see a deep scar that ran down her forearm in a straight line. on the same arm, right at the bicep, was a mark. a tattoo, of sorts, that signified a rider’s bond with their dragon. the sigil was made with intricate lines, its vines wrapping around a blade that hung upside-down in the center.

the boy from earlier—he carried a weight that seemed centuries old. he looked to be around your age, maybe a little bit older, but still in his early twenties. he had taken off his overcoat, the black shirt he was wearing hugging his figure a little too well. his arms were toned and muscular, a result of the constant training and battles he had probably endured. there were no markings on his arms, aside from a few small scars that cascaded down to his wrists. there was a small symbol on his shirt, on the right side of his chest. a faint, gold emblem of a dragon facing the sky with two rings around it. you weren’t sure what it signified. a mark of importance, surely.

then, there was the male right beside him—there was something cold about him. his pale skin, sharp eyes, his hair messily splayed across his forehead. he was a kind of beautiful that was dangerous, the kind where if you got too close, you’d be burned (ironically). you noticed the little moles that decorated his face, almost invisible from where you stood. there was a scar on his cheek and one that ran down the side of his neck, disappearing underneath his black t-shirt. he was slightly bigger than the previous, the muscles in his arms bulging against the sleeves. his shoulders were broad and he was tall.

'Gods, forgive me.'

his bicep was covered with what looked to be branches, sharp and bare, wrapping fully around the limb like barbed wire. you knew he was strong. he didn’t need to prove himself for everyone to know what he was capable of.

right beside him stood another man you hadn’t met yet—this one had a quieter aura. not soft, just quiet, like a snake waiting for its prey. his arms were crossed over his chest. his top missed their sleeves, showing off his shoulders. he was turned towards the pinkette, conversing with her about something. it seemed serious. your eyes trailed to his back. it was slightly visible due to the missing parts of his top. you could make out a few dark, tattooed lines on his back. however, you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. his hair was brushed out of his face, parted neatly down the middle to expose his forehead. what surprised you was there were no marks on him. his skin was clear of damage, not a single abnormality to be seen. that intrigued you. he seemed older than you, too, so it would only make sense for him to have some sort of battle scars.

finally, your eyes landed on yang. the blonde boy that had your blood pressure rising by just existing. though, you couldn’t do anything about it. he was your squad leader. you had to obey him.

like a dog.

his hair was messy, too, but it still fell perfectly in front of his eyes. it pissed you off beyond imagination. he was wearing the same outfit as the rest of them—wide, black cargo pants and a simple black shirt, except his also had a symbol on it. it was the same as the other, but his had one ring instead of two. it made sense, then. it was an insignia of leadership.

you assumed the other boy was his second in command. his skin was empty of scars, too. maybe they were hidden, not visible to just anyone. as he turned around, your eyes caught the etching behind his neck. it barely peaked over his shirt, but you saw it. right below the tips of his golden hair were thick, intricate lines that most likely ran down the expanse of his backside. his shoulders were wide. it made you wonder how big his sigil was, too.

maybe it was as big as his ego.

he stepped forward, arms folding over his chest.

they really enjoyed doing that here.

“welcome to your first day of training. today, you will learn how to fight—hand to hand combat. proper physical ability is crucial. strength, stamina, speed, all of it. bonding with a dragon gives you abilities others could not even dream to touch, but it does not guarantee your life. battling with your hands is just as important,” he nodded his head at the four people behind him. they stepped up to the front in perfect sync. it was practiced, controlled, like they were military folk.

“the five of us will be watching over you all as you spar. you will go in pairs. if you don’t have a partner, you can choose someone who has previously went—or one of us.” the cadets swallowed nervously at that.

“second in command, lee heeseung,” the boy from this morning. he gave nothing but a slight nod of his head. “if i am ever absent and you need assistance, he will be who you go to.”

“park sunghoon, park jongseong, and nyra solmere—second and third year dragon riders. if you require extra training, you may rely on them as well,”

“don’t forget yourself, pretty boy.” the pinkette, now known as nyra, spoke. it earned a snicker from heeseung, both of their faces twisting with mischief.

“yang jungwon, everybody. your squad leader and a second year dragon rider. pretty impressive if you ask me. isn’t that right?” her tone was light, like she was teasing.

the blonde rolled his eyes, an annoyed huff leaving his lips. “back to more important matters,” he emphasized the word ‘important’ with a pointed glare, earning a shrug from nyra.

“do you think they’re dating?” hana whispered, eyes flickering between the two of them. “doubt it. riders don’t have time to date. plus, he’s a total dickhead. i’d feel sorry for anyone dating that.”

she looked at you in surprise, her lips morphing into a little smile, “not a fan. got it.”

“partner up. then, we will have each pair go one at a time.” the cadets began choosing their sparring partners. you and hana stuck beside each other, naturally. you both watched as the first two stepped up to the sparring mat. they stood facing each other, but had their attention turned towards jungwon to await instructions.

“the rules are as follows—no magic, not that you have any. other than that, no rules.” his arms remained crossed, eyes narrowing slightly on the first years before him, “you could kill each other, too, if you want.”

the room stilled. even here, where they would prepare you to take on the dangers of the outside world, you could die. there was no safety within the corners of these walls. you couldn’t risk trusting anyone. at least, not fully.

not even hana.

your thoughts became littered with doubt. what if she was using you? pretending to be your friend so she could ultimately kill you in the end? that’s what this was, right?

a survival of the fittest.

you couldn’t let those ideas take over. you had protected her and she saved your life. that had to have meant something.

you watched as they began to spar. their movements were calculated, perhaps they had trained well before today. every punch that landed was met with a returning kick or block. they fought like their lives depended on it. you didn’t know if one would try to kill the other or not, but they fought like that possibility could hold true at any moment. as if on cue, one of them reached into their boot, pulling out a short dagger. she lunged at her partner, plunging the blade into their stomach. you flinched, specks of their blood landing on your pants. she pulled the blade out, watching as they collapsed onto their knees. you could barely register the crimson that tainted your clothes before a loud sigh cut through the suffocating silence.

“alright, clean it up.” jungwon’s voice ordered, not even bothering to spare them another glance. sunghoon stepped forward, scooping up the cadet with both arms before carrying them out of the room. you didn’t know if they were dead or alive. perhaps, you’ll find out tomorrow. “so, who wants to go next?”

more began to step up. some were left with bruised knuckles, broken ribs and fingers, black eyes, and cuts so deep they would leave a mark once healed. this time around, nobody had died. you couldn’t get your hopes up, though. there was still a chance it could be you. if hana was as sly as your brain had convinced you she was—

“you,” you glanced in the direction of the five riders. all of their attention was on you as jungwon stepped onto the mat, eyes locked with yours.

“you’re with me.”

suddenly, that chance was a lot higher than you thought.

you stared at him in shock, fingers twitching at your sides. “i already chose a partner.”

jungwon glanced between you and hana, his shoulders lifting with a shrug.

“she can partner up with someone else. plus, there’s eleven of you. one of you would have to spar with one of us anyway. why not make it interesting. right, cadet?” that look on his face. it was the same one he wore when you had prepared to climb the steps of the parapet. again, he was challenging you, as if you needed to prove yourself to him.

it felt unfair.

why you, of all people?

your jaw clenched, annoyance bubbling up inside of you before you walked onto the mat. this was it. you were going to die. you were sure of it. from the very beginning, you could tell he hated you. the feeling was mutual, but you weren’t sure how far his hatred spanned.

maybe he simply thought you were weak, unfit to become a rider.

someone to pick on.

maybe your existence offended him. he could kill you now for whatever reason and nobody would care, because death was normal in the dragon-riding quadrant, no matter the circumstances.

as if he could hear your thoughts, his smile fell. “don’t worry. i don’t bite.”

if looks could kill, you would be dead already.

you fought the urge to scoff. before you could respond, he lunged at you. you ducked your head, a useless attempt at evading him. he grabbed your arm, twisting it behind your back before slamming you into the wall. you yelped in pain, feeling you shoulder twist in a way that was unnatural. “doing nothing gets you killed, cadet.”

you could feel his warm breath against the side of your temple as he spoke, pulling you back and spinning you around to kick at your legs. your knees buckled, sending you straight into the ground. your shoulder made an agonizing ‘pop’ sound, making you cry out. the pain traveled through your entire body, every nerve set ablaze. he dug his knee into your back, his hand pushing hard against your shoulder.

he was on top of you now, leaning forward to whisper into your ear, “you’re weak. it’s pathetic, really. you try too hard to control yourself. instead of doing something with that anger, you stand there—hesitating. waiting. like it’ll go away on its own,”

he forced his knee deeper into your spine, a pained moan escaping your lips, “you don’t deserve to be here. if you can’t even hurt the person you swear you hate the most, what can you do? who can you kill?” jungwon watched as a stray tear fell from your eyes, trickling onto the mat below you.

“crying won’t get you off this floor, cadet. are you going to fight back, or are you going to prove me right? prove to everyone watching right now that you don’t have what it takes to be a rider?” he leaned in closer, his hair tickling your cheek.

“prove that you’re better off dead?”

your body was screaming at you to surrender. you shoulder was throbbing, the sharp pain made you dizzy. deep down, you knew—he wasn’t completely wrong. you had tried, tirelessly, not to let your emotions take over and turn you into a monster. you did everything in your power to avoid becoming what you despired.

becoming someone like him.

he who didn’t hesitate. it didn’t matter that he was your leader. not once did his thoughts waver before hurting you. he probably wouldn’t think twice about killing you, either. it made you realize something.

it was how he’s survived.

jungwon, sunghoon, nyra, and especially heeseung and jongseong. they were third years. they were living, breathing proof that it was possible to make it that far alive, but that came with sacrifice.

their eyes were empty because they gave up something along the way.

their souls.

you knew deep down, they weren’t bad people. they were riders—fighting to survive. they didn’t choose to do it; they had to. born into this world and forced to live a life they never chose.

and if living meant losing a piece of yourself, they would do it again.

you kicked your leg up, wrapping it around his thigh before flipping the both of you over. the searing pain from your shoulder made you hiss, instinctively reaching to cradle it in your hand.

the box.

you forced the feeling down, as far as it would go before closing it completely. you had to tune it out.

jungwon stared at you, the same smirk returning to his face, “not much of a damsel in distress after all, are you?”

before you could think, you punched him. it was enough to make his head turn, cheek meeting the ground. almost instantly, he grabbed at your hips and pushed you off of him. you landed on your side, having rolled a few feet away from your original spot. he stood there, thumb wiping away at the blood on his mouth. his eyebrows quirked up, as if he was waiting for you to attack him again. you got up off the floor, biting the inside of your cheek to distract yourself from the pain of your (definitely) dislocated shoulder.

you charged at him, fist flying. jungwon dodged every hit, taking the opportunity to land a hard punch on your ribs. you folded over in pain, giving him an opening to pull you towards him. you gasped as your back met his chest, one arm tightly wrapped around your torso as the other leveled with your chin. the thin edge of his dagger pressed against your neck, hard enough to draw blood. you whined softly at the burning sensation, hands reaching up to grab at his arm. the last of your strength had left you, your knees fighting the urge to buckle again. if he wasn’t holding you up with his arms, you would have collapsed by now.

“see, better, but you’re still weak. your stamina needs improvement and so does your speed. your strength is there, but strength without strategy is useless. the next time we spar, i expect to never get you in this position again,” his voice was low. everything he was saying was meant for you and you alone. you hated how he was right—hated how he probably went easy on you because he had always known you were incapable of winning against him, or anyone.

‘the next time we spar,’ those words stuck with you. this wouldn’t be the last time you go up against him.

Gods, you were fucked.

"stop hesitating, y/n," his arms dropped to his sides, sheathing the dagger back into its rightful place. the minute his hold loosened on you, you stumbled forward.

your shoulder.

the pain came rushing back in, your opposite hand reaching up to keep it in place. hana rushed to your side, holding you up carefully as to not hurt you any further.

“nyra, take her outside. and you—” he pointed at hana, “let’s go. your partner is waiting.”

hana looked at you, worry evident in her gaze. you waved her off, assuring her that you’ll be okay. she swallowed dryly, pausing before giving you a nod. you watched as she headed onto the mat. you could only hope you would see her return to the barracks afterwards.

nyra stopped in front of you, her head tilting towards the door. “c’mon. off we go.” you followed after her, muscles relaxing in relief at the thought of her taking you to a healer. maybe jake—

“shirt, off.”

what?

you stared at her, dumbfounded. this was the second time someone had asked you to strip, and now you really didn’t know why it was necessary—

“remember what he said, cadet. no hesitation? this is a direct order. hurry on, take it off.” her hands moved animatedly as she rushed you to undress. with a sigh, you took off your top, careful not to strain your shoulder too much. she took it from your hands, folding it up slightly before holding it at your mouth. “okay, now bite.”

you knew exactly where this was going—and you fucking hated it. this was going to hurt.

bad.

you opened your mouth, teeth digging into the rolled up fabric. you wanted to ask her to prepare you, but your plea came out muffled. before you knew it, she had pushed you up against the wall. you felt her hand grab at your shoulder, rubbing it gently with her palm before—

*POP!*

your scream was silenced by the shirt in your mouth, eyes tightly shut. the pain was agonizing. there were spots in your vision, and the urge to faint was strong. after a few minutes, it slowly began to subside. it left behind a dull ache, but you were able to somewhat mobilize your shoulder again. “there. a little unprofessional, but the healers are busy right now. so you got me instead.”

you turned around, leaning against the wall as you ripped the shirt out of your mouth, “thanks, i guess.” the blood from your neck trailed down your sternum, seeping into the band of your bra. you stared at it in disgust, “can i at least a new shirt? and something for.. this?”

nyra bit her lip, holding back what you assumed was a laugh. with a raise of her eyebrows, she motioned you to follow her. the two of you walked in silence. luckily, all the cadets were too busy training to be wandering the hallways this early in the morning. she stopped in front of a large door, her hand waving in front of the lock before hearing it click open. it revealed a large room, decorated with vines and flora that dangled from the ceiling. in the center was a large bed, one that looked much more comfortable than the mattresses you had been assigned to in your barrack.

nyra walked over to her drawer, pulling it open before digging for something. she tossed you a plain black shirt, similar to the one you had worn. “i haven’t worn that thing since my first year. you can have it. it’ll probably fit you better, anyway,” her finger drew a little circle around her chest.

your cheeks lit up, quickly mumbling a ‘thank you’ before carefully slipping the top on. “come, sit. let me treat that nasty ass cut.”

you listened obediently, hands resting in your lap as she sat in between your legs. her fingers gently grabbed at your chin, lifting your head up to get better access to your neck.

“you know, jungwon wasn’t gonna kill you, right?”

you let out a scoff at that, “yeah, well, didn’t seem like it. look what he did to me.”

“he means well. plus, he’s right. you are weak,"

okay.

ouch.

at least, right now you are. i can tell you’re afraid—scared of what’s to come and who you might turn into,” you hissed when she pressed a damp cotton round on your wound. she ignored your pained protest, continuing to dress the wound as she spoke, “you’re here to become a rider. that comes with a price. you need to start thinking about what’s really important. i know we can’t decide that for you, but survival should always come first. friends—people in general—they come and they go. now, i’m not saying don’t build any relationships here, but loyalty is earned. it isn’t a given. you can't trust so easily,” you sat quietly, digesting her words.

“you know about the bonding process, right?”

you gently shook your head.

“once a dragon chooses to bond with you, your lives becomes one. if your dragon dies, so do you. if you die well, they survive, but they’ll be grieving for a very long time. some end up as recluses and refuse to bond ever again. others can turn vengeful. it gets ugly—being a rider. a bond doesn’t just mean you’re gifted with powers. it’s a soul tie. a real, serious connection. your bonded becomes your everything. you feel each other’s emotions, each other’s pain, all that shit. do you see now why you can’t afford to be weak? why you have to put yourself above all else? there's no room for error out there. you either live or you die. no second chances, no blessings from fate or Morvak to protect you,” she pauses, her fingers smoothly taping the thin bandage to your neck.

nyra stands, tossing the remaining trash into a bin. she peers down at you, offering a gentle smile, “i know you have it in you to make it to bonding. jungwon doesn’t though, so if you wanna get on his good side you’ll have to prove yourself. he takes the ‘squad leader’ role very seriously, if you couldn’t tell."

you roll your eyes at that.

“it’s quite clear.”

“i’m sure you’ve heard it already, but you were put in this section for a reason. ‘the most dangerous and unpredictable’ or whatever formal bullshit jungwon was spewing yesterday. that title also means we can be one of the most powerful, and he refuses to let anyone dampen that. it’s a little power hungry, but once you see what it’s like, being one of us, it’ll start to make sense.”

you stood up, too, smoothing out your shirt, “thank you, nyra.”

“don’t mention it. seriously. he’ll kill me if he knew i was kissing up to you,” you both chuckle at that.

“but, just know, if you need anything you can come to me. i won’t try to kill you—ironic after that whole speech i just gave you—but i promise. consider me an ally,” she held out her pinky finger, wiggling it at you. you stared at it for a second before holding up your own, interlocking it with hers. nyra smiles at the gesture before pulling her hand away.

“come, they’ve probably finished by now. i’m fucking starving,” you followed her out of her room, the two of you heading towards the dining hall. you were grateful for her kindness. you could tell, from her words alone, that she had experienced suffering before.

enough times to make her accept the sheer weight of the world that was in front of her, but you didn’t want to pry.

one day, you think, you’ll ask.

for now, you could only hope she was telling the truth when she said jungwon didn’t want you dead.

the dining hall was filled with people. some chattered amongst themselves while others ate quietly, shying away from everybody else. you grabbed a tray, turning to speak with nyra but she had already ran off. you watched her skip over to her friends, sliding into the spot between who you remembered to be jongseong and heeseung. you sighed, making your way towards an empty table. you sat in silence, picking at your food with your fork. you hadn’t eaten a meal in over a day, yet you had no appetite.

everything you had dealt with in the past twenty four hours had finally sank into place in your brain. in such a short time, you had seen, and come close to, so much death. you don’t know when you would become numb to the feeling, and a part of you hoped you never would. the feeling in your chest—it was another reminder that you were still alive. you pulled apart the roll of bread, popping a piece into your mouth. your thoughts were running wild with no way to silence them.

then, you heard a tray drop in front of you. glancing up, your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “oh my god, hana,”

she offered you a strained smile, wincing at the stretch of her lips. her cheek was a deep shade of purple and blue, swollen beyond comprehension, the wound on her forehead barely taped shut, and the cut on her lip had dried over with blood. “yeah, he got me pretty good..”

hana sat down across from you, arms folded over and resting on the table, “i’m happy to see you’re okay, though. sorry i couldn’t stay with you.. that jungwon guy. he seriously freaks me out. i really thought he was going to kill you, y’know?” you sighed.

you’ve been doing that a lot lately.

“yeah, i did too.”

“how are you feeling?”

you instinctively rolled your shoulder, “better. my ribs are definitely gonna be more bruised tomorrow and my shoulder fully came out of its socket, and i had a knife held to my neck, but i’m better. yeah.”

your eyes flicked over to nyra’s table. the blonde was sat across from her, wordlessly eating his food as his friends conversed with each other. you watched him, like you were trying to pick him apart piece by piece. why did he single you out like that? why does he hate you so much? you barely knew the guy, and yet, he has already become your sworn enemy.

the advice he gave you. it was supposed to help you, but it also hurt.

his words.

the fear that took over your body when he had that blade at your throat. at this point, you didn’t care about the ‘why’. he was a force to be reckoned with.

a monster.

nyra’s words were forgotten, and that same fiery hot hatred started to consume you once more.

you were sure of it, now.

you hated yang jungwon.

after your meal, you decided to head back to the training room. you had told hana you wanted to be alone for a bit—get in some extra practice. reluctantly, she agreed. you entered the room, gently shutting the door behind you. in reality, you didn’t know how you could possibly train with a messed up shoulder and limited movement of your mid section.

you just craved space, to turn off your mind and let the silence in. you had not a moment of peace since you arrived at the school, not that you ever anticipated it. it was a war college, after all.

the scent of sweat and blood lingered in the air. you stared at the mat—the one where jungwon had pinned you. the memory makes your muscles ache, the image of being held down replaying in your mind like a broken record. you thought about how you felt in that moment: helpless. if it had been someone else, if you had been in such a place out there in the real world, you don’t think you would have lived to see another day.

you kneeled on the floor, fingertips grazing the rubber-like surface. you had never trained to become a rider.

at least, not really.

your father was one and you resented him for it. his presence had been absent, the side of his bed was always cold. your mother had dealt with the worst of it all—her own husband, constantly on the brink of death while she sat alone at home with two kids, wondering if she would ever get to see him again.

what had hurt the most was not being able to say goodbye.

one day, the letters stopped coming. you had hoped, maybe, they had simply been lost in transit. maybe they forgot to pick it up, or accidentally mailed it to the house next door. when you had asked, you were met with pity.

no letter.

the last time you had seen him was two years before he disappeared, having been called north for an important flight mission. months had passed and eventually, you accepted that he may have died.

that was six years ago.

you were now twenty years old now. the grief had turned into anger. part of it was at him for becoming a rider, the other was at how you would never truly know. now, you were working your way towards becoming one yourself. the irony of it all made you cringe.

you felt it, though.

that feeling again.

hope—the last bits of it that sat heavily in between your rib cage.

if you succeed in becoming a rider, you could find out what happened. you could finally understand the reason for his disappearance and bring peace to your family. that hope was now dimming, the weight of everything making its way through the cracks.

a sudden noise pulled you back into reality. your head spun around, locking eyes with the person that just walked in. you felt a coldness spread within you.

it was her.

the girl from the stairs.

you quickly stood up, trying your hardest not to wince at the pain flaring up in your body. you couldn't show her you were hurt. she shut to door behind her, fingers moving to turn the lock. “so, you made it after all,” your throat ran dry, heart pounding violently in your chest. she took a step towards you, a wicked grin on her face.

“should’ve taken my advice, though,” her voice raised in pitch, the tone of it mocking. “throwing yourself off that bridge may have be more merciful than this.”

© wrldhoon 2025

[wrldhoon]

where you are (2)

PAIRING. jungwon ༝ fem.ᐟreader

WORD COUNT. 3.1k

GENRE. angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ f2l ⋆ crack (?)

part one

note: and SHE’S DONE!! i wanted an all hurt no comfort fic but honestly i craved a happy ending for them too so🤗 TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART i hope you guys enjoy this one too <3

this fic was inspired by this song !

it was strange.

feelings—how they come and go.

people, too.

one day, you wake up and suddenly everything feels different. whether it was good or bad was up to interpretation, really.

it had been two weeks.

two weeks since you had your heart ripped out of your chest.

you couldn’t even be upset, because it was your fault. you had pushed away the one person you never thought would leave your side. the person you had trusted with your life, your heart. he didn’t know that, though.

or maybe he did.

two weeks.

fourteen days since jungwon had last seen you at that cafe. the one you had both frequented every other day after class. except, he had went with somebody else. he hadn’t meant to hurt you. he didn’t think you still cared.

you had distanced yourself from him without any real explanation. it had hurt.

a lot.

at first, he thought it was because you had been his friend for so long. you were special, he knew that for sure, and he always had this spot for you in his heart as his best friend.

he held you when you cried, whispered sweet nothings into your ears as you fell asleep in his arms after hours of sobbing into his chest, bought you your favorite snacks without even thinking about it because he knew how much you craved them after a hard day. you always did the same.

he was your person, and you were his.

at least, he thought so.

when you first started pulling away, he didn’t question it much. you had your own life and he had his. then, it became an ongoing pattern.

the toothbrush he left in your bathroom turned dry and rough from lack of use. the sweater he had left on your chair started to smell more like your air freshener than his own cologne. he saw you less in the hallway of your own dorm. he no longer ordered a second drink when he would visit the cafe after class. the one he had memorized since freshman year and would always bring to you when he would visit.

even the barista noticed.

“can i just get an americano, please?” jungwon reached into his bag to pull out his wallet, fishing for cash.

“and the strawberry milk tea, right?” she smiled at him knowingly, her fingers instinctually clicking at the screen in front of her to add the sugary drink he had always remembered to get for you.

it was cute.

his hands froze, mouth suddenly feeling dry. he looked up at her with a strained smile.

“no, thank you, just the americano.”

her eyebrows jumped in surprise. “oh—i’m sorry,” she returned an understanding smile before removing the drink from his order. “trouble in paradise?”

jungwon handed her the money, a short sigh escaping his lips.

“yeah, something like that.”

the distance left a hollow feeling in his chest. what he was hung up on was why. he could barely sleep, thinking back on the past few weeks to try and pick at the pieces—to understand what had gone wrong with your friendship.

jungwon missed you.

he missed your laugh, the way you always hit him a little too hard when you found something funny (though, he never really complained), your scent, the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest every time you two hung out, the way you always played his favorite music every time you shared headphones—all of it.

he just missed you.

he had decided to go on a date to get his mind off of things. a crazy idea in hindsight, but his friends had eagerly came to him with the proposal, claiming it would ‘make his life more interesting’.

jungwon never really cared about dating. it was never something at the forefront of his mind, or, he just never found anyone all that interesting. he never felt the need to look for something more. after all, he had his friends.

and you.

out of pure boredom and curiosity, he agreed to it. no harm in testing the waters, right?

wrong.

he had never meant to be seen by you of all people.

when you locked eyes with him, his heart stopped. his shoulders tensed and suddenly, he really needed water.

whether to drink or splash on his face—either could work.

he could see the sadness in your eyes from where he sat—could feel it seeping out of you. his heart told him to get out of his seat and walk to you, but his mind.

his mind told him to stay.

you had left him.

why did he have to be the one to chase after you?

why did he have to fix what was broken when he wasn’t the one to break it?

so he stayed.

he turned his attention back to the girl in front of him, giving her a soft smile.

even if he had to pretend.

even if he was hurting you.

you had hurt him first.

and this time, he chose to put himself first.

“why don’t you just talk to him, y/n? you’re torturing yourself—and him too,” mira, one of your best friends, gently stroked your hair as you sniffled into her shoulder.

“he probably hates me. he has a girlfriend now. it would be wrong of me to just… tell him everything after he finally decided to settle down with someone. i can’t do that to him”

“what girlfriend?” heeseung, mira’s boyfriend, asked as he hopped onto the couch beside you. he had been on snack duty all night, his sweet attempt at comforting you.

you wiped at your nose, sitting up properly between the couple. “i saw him, a few days ago. he was with a girl. they held hands and shit. couple-y stuff. they were on a date. he saw me but—” your voice cracked, lip trembling as your brain replayed that day.

“he just.. looked away. like i didn’t exist.” your eyes began to water again.

“god, this is so pathetic! i’m the one that pushed him away but i’m hurting more than he is. do you know how fucking ridiculous that is?” you wanted to laugh. it was cruel how the world worked.

heeseung and mira shared a knowing look before their attention fell back onto you.

“you were scared. love is different, y’know? it isn’t something that comes easily, and you felt it for the first time. being afraid is okay. plus, you’ve dealt with so much shit—i would be more surprised if you didn’t run away the minute you started to catch feelings for him.” heeseung spoke, reaching for another bag of gummies and tearing it open, tilting it towards you.

“but… i won’t lie to you. what you did was fucked up.”

“heeseung!”

“what?! am i wrong? listen, i get it. like i said, you were scared and that’s okay. but you hurt him too, yeah? you might think you’re the only one affected by this, but think about it. he was your best friend. you were his. jungwon isn’t stupid and he isn’t heartless either. he loved you, even if you weren’t sure if it was romantic or not. he loved you and you ran. if i were him, i’d be devastated,” he ended his short speech with a shrug.

you chewed on your lip, staring blankly at the bag of gummies in front of you.

you hated that he was right.

you knew he was right.

what you had done was selfish, and now you were facing the consequences.

“and about that girl, i don’t think they’re even dating. jay set him up with her ‘cause he thought they’d be good together, but i think jungwon told him it didn’t work out. wasn’t his type or some shit. plus, she’s ni-ki’s ex. really weird combination in my opinion. strange. seriously.”

mira let out a snicker at his words, “agreed..”

you sat there, quietly digesting the words heeseung just threw at you.

they weren’t dating.

she was ni-ki’s ex.

jay tried to set her up with jungwon.

yeah, definitely strange.

point of the matter is there’s still a chance.

a chance to fix things before they shattered completely.

“what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?” your voice was barely above a whisper then, the nerves settling into your bones.

heeseung scoffed, “don’t kid yourself. y/n, seriously. this is jungwon we’re talking about. your jungwon. he’ll talk to you. maybe he’s just waiting for you to talk to him first.”

you stared at the contact photo on your phone.

it was a picture of you and jungwon.

you were looking at the camera, but he was looking at you. your smiles were big and genuine, eyes nearly closed from how hard you were grinning. it was one of your favorite pictures. granted, he was supposed to be looking at the camera, but you had taken the photo a little too early from excitement.

your finger hovered over the message button.

you hadn’t opened your chat with him in weeks. the last message he had sent you was left unanswered.

wonie [1:48am] are we okay? :(

you hadn’t built up the courage to respond.

you dropped your phone onto your bed with a resigned sigh, hands rubbing at your face like you could wipe away your shame.

you stared at your ceiling for what felt like hours. you glanced over at the clock on your nightstand.

11:31pm.

it was late, but you couldn’t sleep. not after that conversation with heeseung and mira.

a few minutes passed, and you groaned before grabbing at your phone again. you clicked open his contact, brain working up ideas of what you could possibly say.

y/nie [11:43pm] can we talk?| can w| hey jungw| he| hey| h| hiii|

you rolled over into your pillow, screaming in frustration. why was it so damn hard to text him all of a sudden? it was jungwon. your jungwon. you can talk to jungwon.

except, you had been the worst possible friend ever and then cried about it like you weren’t the one at fault. you sat up on your bed, crossing your legs as you stared at the phone in your lap like it offended you.

then, you heard a ding.

you nearly threw your phone across the room. your hands gripped your phone so tight it could probably snap it in half from sheer force.

wonie [12:01am] hey.. i saw you typing. y/n? i think we should talk

your heart stopped.

had he been waiting?

staring at his unanswered text hoping that you would message him back?

that thought suddenly gave you a surge of confidence. with fast fingers, you began to type out a response.

y/nie [12:03am] yeah we should come over?

you slapped your hand over your face.

“’come over’? are we serious?” you groaned, falling onto your back in pure embarrassment. he texted back almost immediately, letting you know he’d be over in ten minutes.

you shot up from your bed, scrambling for a hoodie that wasn’t the one you were currently wearing.

his.

you scrambled through your closet, digging up whatever jacket you could possibly find. was it a little insane to worry about your outfit when the love of your life was about to come over and have the most serious talk of your entire relationship?

nah.

a knock was heard as you pulled the hood over your head, covering up the mess that was your unbrushed hair. you suddenly felt nervous. the anxiety was creeping back in, hands slightly shaky as you headed to the front door.

you took a deep breath before yanking it open.

there he stood, in a black t-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants. his hair was damp and messy, like he had just gotten out of the shower and didn’t even bother to dry it first.

yet, you thought he had never looked more handsome.

“hey, stranger.”

the words stung a bit more than you thought. you offered a small smile before stepping aside, letting him enter.

the door clicked shut and as if on cue, an awkward silence filled the room.

neither of you knew what to say. you stared at him. the way he swallowed nervously, occasionally drifting his attention to something other than your gaze.

“so… how have y—”

“i’m sorry.”

you cut him off before he could finish his sentence. his head turned towards you, his lips parting in shock.

“i’m sorry for pushing you away. i never wanted to be away from you. i was a coward. i just—i didn’t know how to deal with it. my emotions. my feelings. i got scared. i didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things weird between us so i—” you paused, trying to find the right words.

“i ran. i ran away before it could get too serious. too real. i didn’t want to mess things up. you’re so important to me, jungwon, and i didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized how… unworthy i am of you, of your friendship. your love. you do everything for me and—god, i couldn’t even do the bare minimum of just talking to you. i realized how fucking screwed up that is and you probably hate me—”

“y/n.”

“honestly, if you do that's totally okay. i’d hate me too if i just up and left like that without any reasonable explanation. and i know you deserved that much ‘cause you’re my best friend, but at some point i stopped seeing you as that and—”

“y/n.”

“i don’t know when the hell that happened— well, i do but i just ignored it because i thought that was how i was supposed to feel about you since we were close and all. but then i started to miss you and, i mean shit, when i saw you with that girl—”

his hands reached out for you, grabbing at your arms to stop you from rambling. you froze, his eyes boring into yours as you began to register just how close he was to you. he scanned your face, briefly glancing at your lips before returning to your eyes.

“first of all, slow down. second, what feelings are you talking about?”

you felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of you.

your lips opened like they wanted to say something before closing again. you looked like a fish out of water. a deer in the headlights. your brain completely short circuited.

“i want to hear you say it.”

fuck.

“i— i don’t—” you inhaled deeply, trying to gather your thoughts.

“i love you.”

he raised an eyebrow at that, “well, i know that, and i love you too but—”

“no, jungwon. i love you, not as my friend. i love you, like serious, romantic love. i love you. yeah that—that sounds right,” your ears were on fire.

this was humiliating.

you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

you see him freeze up. the gears were turning. he was thinking.

processing.

trying to make sense of the words that had just come out of your mouth.

before you could speak again, your cheek suddenly collided with his chest, pulling a surprised gasp from you. your eyes widened, taking note of the loud thrumming of his heart within his chest.

“you’re an idiot,” he murmured, his own cheek resting against the side of your head.

you blinked.

did he just—

“you ran away from me because you love me?” he pulled back, hands resting on the small of your back as he looked down at you. except, he wasn’t angry.

his expression—it was filled with relief.

“seriously, y/n, i know you have bad luck with boys and all but—ow!” he winced, hand landing on the spot on his forehead you had flicked. “not funny.”

"a little funny."

"no, no not really."

"c'mon! that was good—"

"jungwon."

he sighed, “as i was saying… you could’ve just told me,” his tone was gentle. as if everything you had done to him didn’t matter anymore now that the truth was out.

he was too forgiving.

you didn't know if you deserved it.

“i was scared. i didn’t know if you felt the same or not and i didn’t want to mess up our friendship. you’re everything to me, jungwon. i couldn't lose that. i couldn't lose you.”

"so, you ran."

"okay i didn't really think of the logistics and all, but—"

“you think i have your favorite drink memorized and leave my spare toothbrush in your bathroom because i think of you as my friend?”

you look away, a bright shade pink dusting your cheeks. you could hear the smile in his voice without even having to look, “i love you, y/n. like serious, romantic love, or whatever you called it.”

your head snapped back in his direction, “seriously?”

jungwon laughed—and that sound? you wanted to hear it forever.

“super serious. and maybe i would’ve gotten the chance to say that if you hadn’t avoided me for an entire month,” he had a cheeky smile on his face, teasing you. you groaned, embarrassed, burying your face into his chest. “i get it, i’m an idiot.”

“my idiot, though.”

“doesn’t make it any better.”

he forced you to look up at him, the same smile still evident on his face, “can i kiss you?”

if this was a dream, you seriously didn’t want to wake up.

you didn’t answer. instead, you gently tugged at his shirt, pulling him towards you. the kiss was soft, hesitant, but filled with so much love.

his lips were just as soft as you imagined, paired with the faint taste of his strawberry lip balm that you always saw him put on.

it was addicting.

you pulled away, eyes never leaving his own. his grip tightened around your hips, almost like he was afraid you would disappear the second he let go.

“you have always been enough for me. even if you’re falling apart and you feel like you can’t put yourself back together, i will be there. always. as long as it’s where you are.”

that was all you needed to hear.

you knew, then, that this was right where you needed to be.

you had always run away from love.

this time, you’d hold onto it.

you would let it in, let it bury itself so deep until it filled up every little empty space.

as long as he was with you.

right where you are.

© wrldhoon 2025

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ tags: @keehoes @ilyunjina @yjwluver @won1yoiz @juyeonshour @charlie-studio

[wrldhoon]

🪽 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.ᐟ navi.

╭ @wrldhoon ♡‧₊˚ ┆❝ sheノher ❞ ┆⋆˚ 🖇️ ˖° 20 ╰ ➤ ಇ. ⋮ 𝔂our 𝓵ove is 𝓱elium

✧ ⌒⌒ written works ⸺ ongoing (𖦹) ⨾ completed (✓)

sigils & sin (m)┆︎enhypen 𖦹

✧ ⌒⌒ short fics

where you are┆y.jw ✓ 01 02

© wrldhoon 2025

[wrldhoon]

where you are (2)

PAIRING. jungwon ༝ fem.ᐟreader

WORD COUNT. 3.1k

GENRE. angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ f2l ⋆ crack (?)

part one

note: and SHE’S DONE!! i wanted an all hurt no comfort fic but honestly i craved a happy ending for them too so🤗 TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART i hope you guys enjoy this one too <3

this fic was inspired by this song !

it was strange.

feelings—how they come and go.

people, too.

one day, you wake up and suddenly everything feels different. whether it was good or bad was up to interpretation, really.

it had been two weeks.

two weeks since you had your heart ripped out of your chest.

you couldn’t even be upset, because it was your fault. you had pushed away the one person you never thought would leave your side. the person you had trusted with your life, your heart. he didn’t know that, though.

or maybe he did.

two weeks.

fourteen days since jungwon had last seen you at that cafe. the one you had both frequented every other day after class. except, he had went with somebody else. he hadn’t meant to hurt you. he didn’t think you still cared.

you had distanced yourself from him without any real explanation. it had hurt.

a lot.

at first, he thought it was because you had been his friend for so long. you were special, he knew that for sure, and he always had this spot for you in his heart as his best friend.

he held you when you cried, whispered sweet nothings into your ears as you fell asleep in his arms after hours of sobbing into his chest, bought you your favorite snacks without even thinking about it because he knew how much you craved them after a hard day. you always did the same.

he was your person, and you were his.

at least, he thought so.

when you first started pulling away, he didn’t question it much. you had your own life and he had his. then, it became an ongoing pattern.

the toothbrush he left in your bathroom turned dry and rough from lack of use. the sweater he had left on your chair started to smell more like your air freshener than his own cologne. he saw you less in the hallway of your own dorm. he no longer ordered a second drink when he would visit the cafe after class. the one he had memorized since freshman year and would always bring to you when he would visit.

even the barista noticed.

“can i just get an americano, please?” jungwon reached into his bag to pull out his wallet, fishing for cash.

“and the strawberry milk tea, right?” she smiled at him knowingly, her fingers instinctually clicking at the screen in front of her to add the sugary drink he had always remembered to get for you.

it was cute.

his hands froze, mouth suddenly feeling dry. he looked up at her with a strained smile.

“no, thank you, just the americano.”

her eyebrows jumped in surprise. “oh—i’m sorry,” she returned an understanding smile before removing the drink from his order. “trouble in paradise?”

jungwon handed her the money, a short sigh escaping his lips.

“yeah, something like that.”

the distance left a hollow feeling in his chest. what he was hung up on was why. he could barely sleep, thinking back on the past few weeks to try and pick at the pieces—to understand what had gone wrong with your friendship.

jungwon missed you.

he missed your laugh, the way you always hit him a little too hard when you found something funny (though, he never really complained), your scent, the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest every time you two hung out, the way you always played his favorite music every time you shared headphones—all of it.

he just missed you.

he had decided to go on a date to get his mind off of things. a crazy idea in hindsight, but his friends had eagerly came to him with the proposal, claiming it would ‘make his life more interesting’.

jungwon never really cared about dating. it was never something at the forefront of his mind, or, he just never found anyone all that interesting. he never felt the need to look for something more. after all, he had his friends.

and you.

out of pure boredom and curiosity, he agreed to it. no harm in testing the waters, right?

wrong.

he had never meant to be seen by you of all people.

when you locked eyes with him, his heart stopped. his shoulders tensed and suddenly, he really needed water.

whether to drink or splash on his face—either could work.

he could see the sadness in your eyes from where he sat—could feel it seeping out of you. his heart told him to get out of his seat and walk to you, but his mind.

his mind told him to stay.

you had left him.

why did he have to be the one to chase after you?

why did he have to fix what was broken when he wasn’t the one to break it?

so he stayed.

he turned his attention back to the girl in front of him, giving her a soft smile.

even if he had to pretend.

even if he was hurting you.

you had hurt him first.

and this time, he chose to put himself first.

“why don’t you just talk to him, y/n? you’re torturing yourself—and him too,” mira, one of your best friends, gently stroked your hair as you sniffled into her shoulder.

“he probably hates me. he has a girlfriend now. it would be wrong of me to just… tell him everything after he finally decided to settle down with someone. i can’t do that to him”

“what girlfriend?” heeseung, mira’s boyfriend, asked as he hopped onto the couch beside you. he had been on snack duty all night, his sweet attempt at comforting you.

you wiped at your nose, sitting up properly between the couple. “i saw him, a few days ago. he was with a girl. they held hands and shit. couple-y stuff. they were on a date. he saw me but—” your voice cracked, lip trembling as your brain replayed that day.

“he just.. looked away. like i didn’t exist.” your eyes began to water again.

“god, this is so pathetic! i’m the one that pushed him away but i’m hurting more than he is. do you know how fucking ridiculous that is?” you wanted to laugh. it was cruel how the world worked.

heeseung and mira shared a knowing look before their attention fell back onto you.

“you were scared. love is different, y’know? it isn’t something that comes easily, and you felt it for the first time. being afraid is okay. plus, you’ve dealt with so much shit—i would be more surprised if you didn’t run away the minute you started to catch feelings for him.” heeseung spoke, reaching for another bag of gummies and tearing it open, tilting it towards you.

“but… i won’t lie to you. what you did was fucked up.”

“heeseung!”

“what?! am i wrong? listen, i get it. like i said, you were scared and that’s okay. but you hurt him too, yeah? you might think you’re the only one affected by this, but think about it. he was your best friend. you were his. jungwon isn’t stupid and he isn’t heartless either. he loved you, even if you weren’t sure if it was romantic or not. he loved you and you ran. if i were him, i’d be devastated,” he ended his short speech with a shrug.

you chewed on your lip, staring blankly at the bag of gummies in front of you.

you hated that he was right.

you knew he was right.

what you had done was selfish, and now you were facing the consequences.

“and about that girl, i don’t think they’re even dating. jay set him up with her ‘cause he thought they’d be good together, but i think jungwon told him it didn’t work out. wasn’t his type or some shit. plus, she’s ni-ki’s ex. really weird combination in my opinion. strange. seriously.”

mira let out a snicker at his words, “agreed..”

you sat there, quietly digesting the words heeseung just threw at you.

they weren’t dating.

she was ni-ki’s ex.

jay tried to set her up with jungwon.

yeah, definitely strange.

point of the matter is there’s still a chance.

a chance to fix things before they shattered completely.

“what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?” your voice was barely above a whisper then, the nerves settling into your bones.

heeseung scoffed, “don’t kid yourself. y/n, seriously. this is jungwon we’re talking about. your jungwon. he’ll talk to you. maybe he’s just waiting for you to talk to him first.”

you stared at the contact photo on your phone.

it was a picture of you and jungwon.

you were looking at the camera, but he was looking at you. your smiles were big and genuine, eyes nearly closed from how hard you were grinning. it was one of your favorite pictures. granted, he was supposed to be looking at the camera, but you had taken the photo a little too early from excitement.

your finger hovered over the message button.

you hadn’t opened your chat with him in weeks. the last message he had sent you was left unanswered.

wonie [1:48am] are we okay? :(

you hadn’t built up the courage to respond.

you dropped your phone onto your bed with a resigned sigh, hands rubbing at your face like you could wipe away your shame.

you stared at your ceiling for what felt like hours. you glanced over at the clock on your nightstand.

11:31pm.

it was late, but you couldn’t sleep. not after that conversation with heeseung and mira.

a few minutes passed, and you groaned before grabbing at your phone again. you clicked open his contact, brain working up ideas of what you could possibly say.

y/nie [11:43pm] can we talk?| can w| hey jungw| he| hey| h| hiii|

you rolled over into your pillow, screaming in frustration. why was it so damn hard to text him all of a sudden? it was jungwon. your jungwon. you can talk to jungwon.

except, you had been the worst possible friend ever and then cried about it like you weren’t the one at fault. you sat up on your bed, crossing your legs as you stared at the phone in your lap like it offended you.

then, you heard a ding.

you nearly threw your phone across the room. your hands gripped your phone so tight it could probably snap it in half from sheer force.

wonie [12:01am] hey.. i saw you typing. y/n? i think we should talk

your heart stopped.

had he been waiting?

staring at his unanswered text hoping that you would message him back?

that thought suddenly gave you a surge of confidence. with fast fingers, you began to type out a response.

y/nie [12:03am] yeah we should come over?

you slapped your hand over your face.

“’come over’? are we serious?” you groaned, falling onto your back in pure embarrassment. he texted back almost immediately, letting you know he’d be over in ten minutes.

you shot up from your bed, scrambling for a hoodie that wasn’t the one you were currently wearing.

his.

you scrambled through your closet, digging up whatever jacket you could possibly find. was it a little insane to worry about your outfit when the love of your life was about to come over and have the most serious talk of your entire relationship?

nah.

a knock was heard as you pulled the hood over your head, covering up the mess that was your unbrushed hair. you suddenly felt nervous. the anxiety was creeping back in, hands slightly shaky as you headed to the front door.

you took a deep breath before yanking it open.

there he stood, in a black t-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants. his hair was damp and messy, like he had just gotten out of the shower and didn’t even bother to dry it first.

yet, you thought he had never looked more handsome.

“hey, stranger.”

the words stung a bit more than you thought. you offered a small smile before stepping aside, letting him enter.

the door clicked shut and as if on cue, an awkward silence filled the room.

neither of you knew what to say. you stared at him. the way he swallowed nervously, occasionally drifting his attention to something other than your gaze.

“so… how have y—”

“i’m sorry.”

you cut him off before he could finish his sentence. his head turned towards you, his lips parting in shock.

“i’m sorry for pushing you away. i never wanted to be away from you. i was a coward. i just—i didn’t know how to deal with it. my emotions. my feelings. i got scared. i didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things weird between us so i—” you paused, trying to find the right words.

“i ran. i ran away before it could get too serious. too real. i didn’t want to mess things up. you’re so important to me, jungwon, and i didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized how… unworthy i am of you, of your friendship. your love. you do everything for me and—god, i couldn’t even do the bare minimum of just talking to you. i realized how fucking screwed up that is and you probably hate me—”

“y/n.”

“honestly, if you do that's totally okay. i’d hate me too if i just up and left like that without any reasonable explanation. and i know you deserved that much ‘cause you’re my best friend, but at some point i stopped seeing you as that and—”

“y/n.”

“i don’t know when the hell that happened— well, i do but i just ignored it because i thought that was how i was supposed to feel about you since we were close and all. but then i started to miss you and, i mean shit, when i saw you with that girl—”

his hands reached out for you, grabbing at your arms to stop you from rambling. you froze, his eyes boring into yours as you began to register just how close he was to you. he scanned your face, briefly glancing at your lips before returning to your eyes.

“first of all, slow down. second, what feelings are you talking about?”

you felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of you.

your lips opened like they wanted to say something before closing again. you looked like a fish out of water. a deer in the headlights. your brain completely short circuited.

“i want to hear you say it.”

fuck.

“i— i don’t—” you inhaled deeply, trying to gather your thoughts.

“i love you.”

he raised an eyebrow at that, “well, i know that, and i love you too but—”

“no, jungwon. i love you, not as my friend. i love you, like serious, romantic love. i love you. yeah that—that sounds right,” your ears were on fire.

this was humiliating.

you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

you see him freeze up. the gears were turning. he was thinking.

processing.

trying to make sense of the words that had just come out of your mouth.

before you could speak again, your cheek suddenly collided with his chest, pulling a surprised gasp from you. your eyes widened, taking note of the loud thrumming of his heart within his chest.

“you’re an idiot,” he murmured, his own cheek resting against the side of your head.

you blinked.

did he just—

“you ran away from me because you love me?” he pulled back, hands resting on the small of your back as he looked down at you. except, he wasn’t angry.

his expression—it was filled with relief.

“seriously, y/n, i know you have bad luck with boys and all but—ow!” he winced, hand landing on the spot on his forehead you had flicked. “not funny.”

"a little funny."

"no, no not really."

"c'mon! that was good—"

"jungwon."

he sighed, “as i was saying… you could’ve just told me,” his tone was gentle. as if everything you had done to him didn’t matter anymore now that the truth was out.

he was too forgiving.

you didn't know if you deserved it.

“i was scared. i didn’t know if you felt the same or not and i didn’t want to mess up our friendship. you’re everything to me, jungwon. i couldn't lose that. i couldn't lose you.”

"so, you ran."

"okay i didn't really think of the logistics and all, but—"

“you think i have your favorite drink memorized and leave my spare toothbrush in your bathroom because i think of you as my friend?”

you look away, a bright shade pink dusting your cheeks. you could hear the smile in his voice without even having to look, “i love you, y/n. like serious, romantic love, or whatever you called it.”

your head snapped back in his direction, “seriously?”

jungwon laughed—and that sound? you wanted to hear it forever.

“super serious. and maybe i would’ve gotten the chance to say that if you hadn’t avoided me for an entire month,” he had a cheeky smile on his face, teasing you. you groaned, embarrassed, burying your face into his chest. “i get it, i’m an idiot.”

“my idiot, though.”

“doesn’t make it any better.”

he forced you to look up at him, the same smile still evident on his face, “can i kiss you?”

if this was a dream, you seriously didn’t want to wake up.

you didn’t answer. instead, you gently tugged at his shirt, pulling him towards you. the kiss was soft, hesitant, but filled with so much love.

his lips were just as soft as you imagined, paired with the faint taste of his strawberry lip balm that you always saw him put on.

it was addicting.

you pulled away, eyes never leaving his own. his grip tightened around your hips, almost like he was afraid you would disappear the second he let go.

“you have always been enough for me. even if you’re falling apart and you feel like you can’t put yourself back together, i will be there. always. as long as it’s where you are.”

that was all you needed to hear.

you knew, then, that this was right where you needed to be.

you had always run away from love.

this time, you’d hold onto it.

you would let it in, let it bury itself so deep until it filled up every little empty space.

as long as he was with you.

right where you are.

© wrldhoon 2025

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ tags: @keehoes @ilyunjina @yjwluver @won1yoiz @juyeonshour @charlie-studio

[wrldhoon]

gonna write pt 2 of my jungwon angst after work today YES

[wrldhoon]

sigils & sin (m)

01 ── .✦

⋆˚★ pairing: enhypen ༝ fem.ᐟreader

word count — 3.7k

౨ৎ masterlist

synopsis ⊹ ࣪ ˖ war. power. loss. love. secrets. sin. you were trained to do many things. that was why you chose to be here. the dragon-riding quadrant of the notorious Veirthorne Academy. they trained you to fight, to win, to survive. yet, they never taught you to be human.

genre(s) ᯓ fantasy, angst, slow-burn, multiple love interests, smut

⤷ warnings: explicit content, violence, death, graphic depictions of injury, suggestive content

ꨄ︎ note: part one is officially out!! i’m so excited to write this and share it on here.. honestly, its mostly for my own self indulgence. idk how long this series is gonna take me but i will do my best to update regularly !

01 — rite of ruin

leather.

it sticks to your body like second skin, and Gods is it fucking annoying. your movement feels limited in the clothes your mother had forced you to adorn. “it’s for your protection,” she says.

one wrong move and a blade could slice right through your skin. protection my ass.

today was the day. the day you would leave home without knowing if you would survive to see the sunset. for some reason, that thought did not terrify you as much as you thought it would. you were determined to cross that bridge and take your rightful spot at Veirthorne. the hard part was making it all the way there.

“do you think you’re ready?” your sister. her short, dark hair and amber eyes. they bore into you like she was trying to figure you out. trying to dig deeper into your soul and uncover your hidden truths. you felt it. with a resigned sigh, you turned to face her.

“of course i am. it would be devastating if i wasn’t, would it not?” your smile felt forced. it looked more like a grimace than anything. you reminded yourself that this was the last time you will ever get to see them. the two people you had spent your entire life with. “don’t worry. i’ll make it,” it felt more like a promise to yourself than to them.

“don’t forget to write to us. every month. tell us everything and Gods, if you meet a boy, please-” you let out a groan. “no relationships, remember?”

you tightened the laces of your boots before straightening up. you burned the images of your mother and sister into your memory. you could tell they were doing the same. you pulled them both into your arms. the scent of old parchment and lavender invaded your nose.

you wanted to memorize the feeling of their bodies pressed against yours.

their smell.

as if you would never get to experience it again. the thought made your heart ache. the folded up picture stuffed in your boot served as a gentle reminder of who you were surviving for. what you were willing to sacrifice to become a rider.

you couldn’t afford to disappoint them. not now, not ever.

the journey to Veirthorne Academy was a strenuous one. you had arrived on foot with nothing but the clothes on your body. not that you’d need anything more. you approach the large group of cadets wearing black.

rider cadets.

there were a few hundred of you, some staring at the large stone staircase leading to, what some would call, your inevitable doom. you waited for the rush of anxiety to consume you, but it never came. you were either too cocky or had already accepted your fate early. your eyes drifted upwards, noticing the row of people at the very top.

dragon riders. they talked amongst themselves, some staring back down at you. a speck of blonde catches your attention. sharp eyes that stared into the mass of people below him, like dirt beneath his shoe. his arms were crossed over his chest, the soft muscle of his biceps flexing every time the wind blew a little too hard. his eyes met yours, and you watched as the corner of his lips turned up.

he was smirking at you like he was challenging you.

mocking you.

that irked you. you quickly turned away as a voice boomed through the cliffs.

“cadets, welcome to Veirthorne Academy. you have been chosen by fate to be here. the rest is in your hands. to become a rider, you must survive. you must learn to adapt, to fight, and to win. fear is your greatest enemy. thus, your first trial: crossing the parapet. the first of many, yet it is the most important one. it weeds out the weak. you fail, you die. if you wish to step foot inside the rider’s quadrant, you must survive this trial. we will begin calling names,” he was one of the professors, you assumed. jet black hair with grey strands peeking out from underneath. he commanded attention, earned it without having to try.

with a nod of his head, the blonde from earlier steps forward. he began calling out names of the cadets, one by one. his voice. it was powerful, yet oddly soothing. it almost felt like a trap, like a siren serenading you towards your death. he had this odd way of captivating you, and you were sure you weren’t the only one.

the cadets began advancing up the stairs before disappearing once they reached the top. as the first handful of people climbed the steps, a scream was heard.

it felt like the world had stopped spinning.

a few cadets had stopped moving. then, another scream. it was bone chilling. the way their voices faded away, their bodies falling past the thick, dark fog of the chasm below.

your head snapped up when you heard voices. they were arguing. you couldn’t properly make out what they were saying before another body flew past the edge of the cliff. she had been pushed off the bridge. then, another one. and another.

they were dropping like flies.

your blood ran cold. you realized then it was not just a battle against the wind, or the fear, or the bridge itself. it was a battle against each other. it was all fair game. as long as you made it across, nobody else mattered. that was what they meant by survival. that was what they meant when they said ‘weed out the weak’.

it was kill or be killed.

your were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard your name. you looked up, eyes locking with the owner of the voice. he still had that look on his face—the one that challenged you. the one that dared you to even plant one foot on that staircase. in that moment, all you wanted to do was punch that smug look right off of his handsome face. then, his lips moved, “scared?”

he mouthed it. he didn’t say it out loud, because it was just meant for you. you scowled at that. your attention turned to the steps that lay before you. you were not about to let some egotistical pretty boy psych you out. you stepped forward, making your way up the steps when your shoulder was met with the wall. you hissed in pain, turning towards the person who had ran past you. she looked over her shoulder, bright blue eyes fiery with hatred and disdain.

“if you think you’re gonna make it across this thing alive at that pace, you might as well just kill yourself now.”

that pissed you off. she eyed you for a brief moment before rushing up the steps again. Gods, you wanted to push her off, too. with a new found anger, you ran up the stairs after her.

once you reached the above platform, you spotted the cadets beginning to make their way across the bridge. it was small—small enough to make a person to walk with one foot in front of the other. the air was colder at this altitude. the wind was stronger. it blew past your cheeks in painful brushes, forcing you to squint your eyes.

it felt abnormal. the powerful winds, the fog, the chill of the air, the rain. it was all on purpose. you knew it.

“parapet isn’t gonna get any shorter, cadet” that fucking voice. you felt like your head was about to explode in anger.

men. pathetic, useless, annoying men.

you ignored his comment, making your way towards the edge of the platform. if you died now, you would never have to see him again. if you survived, you might have to deal with him for the rest of your life. in this moment, you almost wanted to pray for Morvak to take you now and choose death.

you flinch when you heard another blood curdling scream, just a few feet in front of you. their foot had slipped. their arms were barely clinging onto the parapet for dear life.

they begged.

they cried.

you watched as the person behind them stared in horror. the decision—to save them or to save yourself—would haunt them forever. you could see the hesitation in their movement before they stepped forward, wedging their foot beneath the person’s arms.

they were going to kill them.

your eyes squeezed shut as the person fell. just like that, they were gone. nothing more than a memory—one you probably would never forget. you had no time to waste. you had to make it across. you decided then, no matter what, you will cross this damned bridge.

what makes you a monster makes you a rider.

you couldn’t forget that now.

you took your first step onto the platform. it was slippery. the winds were unforgiving and the fog only became worse with time. you could barely see any further than a hundred feet in front of you, but you could hear.

you heard every shout, every cry, every pained grunt, every plea.

you had to block it out. the longer you dwelled on it, the higher your chances of death. the first few steps were the hardest. getting over the fear, the never-ending thoughts, and the voices. the voices of the people around you trying to survive.

his voice.

it pushed you to try even harder.

ten minutes into your walk, you felt a presence behind you. “please, wait!”

you froze, your foot nearly slipping off the edge before you leaned forward and caught yourself (barely). you looked over your shoulder. it was a girl. she looked about your age. dark, ebony colored hair slicked back into a braid which probably looked a lot better before she got up here. “please, walk with me. i— i can’t do it alone. please, i don’t want to die.”

you could see the tears in her eyes. whether they were from fear or the sting of the cold air, you couldn’t tell. shit, you had a decision of your own to make now. you had no time to think. your hands reached for your belt, quickly unbuckling the clasp and yanking it off before tightening one end to your wrist. you reached back to her with your other hand, urging her forward. “come on, hurry!”

you could see the hope reignite in her eyes at your words. she began creeping forward, one foot in front of the other. before you could grab her hand, her body flew forward.

your eyes shot open, watching as she slipped and wrapped her arms around the platform. you looked up, locking eyes with the person behind her. the boy smirked at you.

it was dark. it was evil.

all you saw was red. he stepped over her, charging at you at full speed. how the hell was he able to move like that on this thing?

your body reacted before your mind could catch up. you crouch down, swinging your legs over the edge before draping the belt over the bridge. you did a silent prayer that the Gods would be on your side, just this once, before scooting yourself off the edge, gripping onto the belt with all the strength you had in you. your body dropping off the edge caught the male off guard, his foot catching on the raised bump of the leather before tumbling to the darkness below.

you had to move—now. panic began to seep into your chest. you tightened your core, kicking your legs to try to throw yourself back over the bridge.

it wasn’t working.

your fingers were beginning to slip, the wind biting at your skin as if it were coaxing you to fall. this was it. in your futile attempt to save some random girl, you had brought yourself to your own demise. before you knew it, you felt a cold hand wrap around your wrist. your eyes shot open, looking up at the person above you.

it was her. she had managed to climb back onto the platform, and now she was trying to save you. “i got you, fuck, hold on!”

with the remaining strength you had, you let go of one end of the belt to grab at the overhang. you managed to pull yourself up with her help. your hands bled, dirt and rocks wedged in between each burning cut.

once you found your balance, you quickly tied the other end of the belt to her arm. you both locked eyes before you gave her a nod. no words were needed. the two of you were going to cross the parapet together.

you owed her your life, and she owed you hers.

you don’t know how long it had been since you started the cross. it felt like the bridge was never ending. through the thick fog, you saw it. you saw the other end. you quickly looked back at the girl behind you. you hadn’t even bothered getting her name. that wasn’t important right now. you needed to get to the perch.

you both did.

determination flooded your system, pulling her along just a little bit faster.

‘almost there,’ your jaw tightened. your arm came up to shield your eyes from the tiny rocks and dust flying towards your face, leaving tiny scratches against your flushed cheeks.

your body collapsed the minute your foot touched land. you were cold, drenched in rain, your hands felt raw and bloody from gripping onto the jagged stone and rough fabric of your belt. you turned over to sit on your rear, reaching to undo the leather tied around both of your wrists. the minute you were unbound, the girl tackled you. her arms were wrapped so tightly around your mid section, you felt the air get squeezed out of your lungs. not that there was much in there to begin with after that trek.

“thank you. Gods, thank you. i don’t think i would’ve made it without you,” you could feel her tears wetting your neck. your heart was pounding so loud you felt it in your ears. you gently pushed her off of you, hand landing on her shoulder. “i could say the same about you.”

you offered a gentle smile. it was strained, but it was genuine. the fatigue was catching up to you. the pain in your hands and ribs began to spike, the adrenaline wearing off. “c’mon, there’s healers stationed over there.”

you managed to get up off the ground, albeit your legs wobbly. you felt a pair of eyes watching you. you turned to your right and all of a sudden, it felt like the Gods were punishing you. there he stood, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. he glanced at the girl beside you, who was talking about who knows what, before his attention was back on you. there was no smirk, no challenging stare, nothing. he just… looked. before you could question it, he looked away and turned his focus back to the parapet.

standing.

waiting.

anticipating.

you sat on the edge of the bed, watching as the healer tended to your wounds. he was quiet. you could tell he was relatively new to this—maybe he had just gotten to Veirthorne the year before you. his movements were calculated, but slightly hesitant. almost like he was scared of hurting you any more than you already were. he secured the gauze around your hand with a tug, tucking the corner into place.

suddenly, he peered up at you through his bangs. his hair was a deep shade of brown, a bit messy from running around tending to injured cadets. he locked eyes with you. you noticed the way his cheeks were slightly pink, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed dryly. “can you take off your shirt?”

you froze.

what?

was this guy seriously asking you to strip? you didn’t even know his name and he—

“your ribs. i need to.. treat you. there. on your torso. under your clothes. can’t do that with your clothes on, right?” you could tell he was embarrassed. maybe he took note of how creepy his initial question sounded, too. hesitantly, you nodded. “yeah, okay.”

you looked at him, your fingers reaching for the bottom of your top, “can i at least get a blanket or something if i’m gonna be totally nude in front of.. everyone?”

his eyes widened, choking on his own spit as you started to pull off your shirt. “no! not totally nude! just— just the shirt! keep your bra on!”

your eyes widened, ears burning at the sudden realization. “fuck, sorry, right. keeping it on.” once you had managed to wiggle out of your blouse, you placed it neatly beside you. you watched as he scooted closer in his seat, eyes dialed in on the bruising that was beginning to form across your stomach.

his hand reached up, fingers pressing into your skin. you let out a soft hiss at the feeling. he mumbled a quick apology before grabbing something off the table. you couldn’t help but watch him as he worked.

his hands were rough, calloused from all the hard work he’s probably done, but they worked gently. his hair looked soft and thick. it was long enough to fall over his eyes, but short enough to not tickle his neck. his eyes carried the same kindness that his hands did.

his hands. Gods, you kept coming back to those. they were big, covering up almost half of your mid section with just one alone. you didn’t know if it was your lack of sex the past few years or what, but watching him work with his hands made you feel.. nervous. hot? sweaty? turned on? completely out of your fucking mind?

you wondered if he could feel the suddenly increase in heat radiating off of you now, too. before you knew it, you spoke up, “what’s your name?”

his hands froze, his head lifting with a jolt. he was taken aback by the question, like he wasn’t expecting to hear it from you. you both stared at each other. you could practically see and hear the gears slowly turning in his head before he cracked a shy smile, “it’s jake. or jaeyun, whichever one you want. and you are..?”

jake. you’ll remember that. definitely will.

you returned the smile, “y/n.”

you spent the rest of your time in silence, watching intently as he fixed you up. he stood up once he was finished, dusting off imaginary dirt from his pants.

“good as new. you’re lucky. your ribs weren’t broken, but they’re definitely bruised pretty badly. it won’t fully heal for a few more days, so take it easy at least tonight. oh—you should head over to sorting, soon too. i think the last few cadets are making their way over the parapet now.”

you slipped your shirt back on. the cold, damp fabric made you shiver. it helped cool you down, though. you turned to him one last time, “thank you, jake.”

he tilted his head at you, a cheeky grin on his face. you’ll remember his smile too. “you’re welcome. i’m sure i’ll see you again in a few days.. hopefully less beat up than today, right?”

you both snickered at that.

‘cause it definitely wasn’t true.

with a final wave, you made your way over to the main courtyard. you had made it. you weren’t a rider yet, but you had survived the first trial.

now, you could only hope you’ll survive the ones that come next.

you stood among the group of cadets, scanning the number of people around you. compared to this morning, there was maybe a third of the people left. all of those bodies at the bottom of the chasm, never to be seen again. their lives cut short by greed, fate, and weakness.

you could not let that be you. standing on the grounds of the rider quadrant did not mean you were safe. death lurked behind every corner. Gods, you could die tomorrow. the person beside you, with the broken arm and bruised cheek, he could die tomorrow too. your throat ran dry.

you couldn’t let these thoughts consume you.

this was what being a rider meant. accepting death. allowing it to sink so deeply into your bones that it stops hurting.

that it feels normal.

your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a voice. the same commanding tenor that you had heard before climbing up those steps. it clicked then. he wasn’t a professor after all.

“you have survived the deadliest walk you will ever take in this lifetime. you have proven yourself to be worthy of the title.. as cadet. from this point on, you will begin to train. you will spar, you will learn, and you will grow stronger. only then can you become a rider. dragons do not settle for weak humans. they kill them.”

halrik dhraven—commanding general of the rider’s quadrant. you had heard his name plenty of times before in the letters your cousin had sent you. it was never good, though. you felt your muscles tense, a dull ache spreading through your body.

the fatigue was beginning to catch up to you.

“you will now be assigned your wings. once you have been sorted, you will be placed into a squad. these squads are not just your peers, but they are your family. you will work, sleep, live, and fight alongside one another. treat it as such.”

as he finished is speech, a woman stepped up to the front. her pure, white hair was styled in an intricate bun atop her head. she reeked of wealth and power. she began calling out names, assigning each person to their respectful groups.

“y/n l/n, first wing.”

at the sound of your name, you glanced in the direction in which they pointed you. you walked over, immediately taking note of the girl you had survived the parapet with. she was here, too. relief flooded your system.

at least you had one familiar face you could rely on.

“cadet l/n. flame section, second squad.” the woman’s voice was cold, her gaze piercing. “you all will be under section leader ysa. please acquaint yourself with your fellow cadets, as well as squad leader yang. from now on, these are the hands which you will put your lives in to.”

you hear the crunch of gravel, alerting you of the approaching presence. then, you saw it.

blonde hair.

the slight quirked up corner of his lips and those eyes. the eyes that locked with yours right before he tried to kill you.

yeah, kill you.

you knew from the moment you got up to the platform that it was strange, the weather, but seeing him afterwards made it all click.

it was him.

the wind, the rain, the fog. all of it.

him.

you held his gaze as he approached your group, stopping directly in front of you. your fists clenched at your sides. you could feel one of your stitches pop open, but you didn’t care.

anger. fury. hatred.

it consumed you.

he noticed and it only egged him on. he bit his lower lip, that stupid look never leaving his face. he was enjoying this.

“well, would you look at that?”

that fucking voice.

you were screwed.

© wrldhoon 2025

[wrldhoon]

sigils & sin (m) masterlist

enhypen ༝ fem.ᐟreader

total word count — tbd

status ⋮ ongoing (06.10.25–)

synopsis ⊹ ࣪ ˖ war. power. loss. love. secrets. sin. you were trained to do many things. that was why you chose to be here. the dragon-riding quadrant of the notorious Veirthorne Academy. they trained you to fight, to win, to survive. yet, they never taught you to be human.

genre(s) ᯓ fantasy, angst, slow-burn, multiple love interests, smut

⤷ warnings: sexual content, death, gore, violence, morally grey characters

˚. ᵎᵎ disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and is heavily inspired by the book series “Fourth Wing”. if you don’t like it, don’t read it. the plot and place names will be altered, but characteristics such as titles (i.e. scribes, dragon riders, healers, and infantry) will remain the same. i really loved the plot for “Fourth Wing” so i decided to put my own spin on it! please read at your own discretion.

00 — teaser

01 — rite of ruin

02 — the culling

[wrldhoon]

sigils and sin (m)

00 ── .✦

⋆˚★ pairing: enhypen ༝ fem.ᐟreader

word count — tbd

౨ৎ masterlist

synopsis ⊹ ࣪ ˖ war. power. loss. love. secrets. sin. you were trained to do many things. that was why you chose to be here. the dragon-riding quadrant of the notorious Veirthorne Academy. they trained you to fight, to win, to survive. yet, they never taught you to be human.

genre(s) ᯓ fantasy, angst, slow-burn, multiple love interests, smut

⤷ warnings: sexual content, death, gore, violence, morally grey characters — any other warnings will be listed in each chapter

˚. ᵎᵎ disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and is heavily inspired by the book series “Fourth Wing”. if you don’t like it, don’t read it. the plot and place names will be altered, but characteristics such as titles (i.e. scribes, dragon riders, healers, and infantry) will remain the same. i really loved the plot for “Fourth Wing” so i decided to put my own spin on it! please read at your own discretion.

ꨄ︎ note: i’ve been plotting on a series like this for months and i’m finally getting to do it 😭 i haven’t written anything in soo long and i had sm fun writing that jw angst (which will get a pt2 soon!!) so fuck it… multi-part series. i’ll be making a masterlist soon so that its easier to navigate! my taglist is also open if anyone is interested <3

00 — teaser

blood.

it seeps through your clothes and stains your skin. the deep, iron smell burns your nostrils. you don’t know whose blood it is. is it yours? is it his? the vibrant red blends together, dripping onto the concrete beneath you.

you stare at your hands. Gods, why is there so much fucking blood? you wipe. you wipe your hands against your dirtied trousers until they begin to hurt.

“i need to get it off,” your voice wavered. you felt like you were going to throw up. no matter how hard you wiped, the dark burning color lingered.

burning. it burned.

“y/n.”

you wiped.

“i need to get it off. fuck— why won’t it come off? i need—”

“y/n, stop!”

two hands grabbed your wrists, forcing you to halt your movements. you looked up. through your tears, you saw him. his eyes. they held a kind of emotion you couldn’t quite comprehend. pain? resentment? fear? submission? maybe it was all of them.

“we need to go.”

you shook your head at that, so hard the world seemed blurry and your head began to hurt. you wanted to scream. you wanted to thrash. why was this happening to you? why did it have to be him? the pain, the burden—death. it was meant to be yours. so, why?

“please, don’t take him away from me,” you cried. you wailed until your throat began to feel raw. you felt another presence behind you, a hand landing on your forearm to pull you off the ground.

you tried to fight. you screamed and you begged. they didn’t let you go. they couldn’t. you watched as his body became fainter and fainter, until you couldn’t see him anymore.

and now, you didn’t know if you ever would again.

© wrldhoon 2025

[wrldhoon]

where you are (1)

PAIRING. jungwon ༝ fem.ᐟreader

WORD COUNT. 1.7k

GENRE. angst ⋆ fluff (if you squint)

part two

note: kinda wanna make a pt2 cuz i love angst but i crave a happy ending who knows.

this fic was inspired by this song!

rejection.

it’s something you have become used to in all your years of living. the initial pang of hurt, the never ending tears the morning right after, the hollow feeling in your chest the following days after that. it feels like a never ending cycle.

you often wonder, “when will it be my turn?”

the constant belief that one may never be good enough, or pretty enough, or funny enough. you have trained yourself into believing that maybe, just maybe, you were the reason for your own hurt. your own suffering. maybe love is just not meant for you. deep down, you have come to terms with that. a part of you feels okay with not having found ‘your person’ despite all your friends seemingly be in happy relationships. and for a while, you were okay with that.

you were okay with being alone.

these feelings—the doubt, the anguish, the yearning—were all constants in your life.

another constant being yang jungwon.

you don’t remember when it happened, or even how.

the boy who watched your heart get broken time and time again. the first time he saw it happen was in high school—your sophomore year crush had split your heart in two after a (long) meaningful confession on their birthday. it was devastating to watch, and even jungwon felt the pang of heartbreak seeing the hope in your eyes vanish as they delivered some half-assed speech to somehow soften the blow.

you had been acquaintances then, having shared a few friends. you had hung out a couple of times, but not often enough to have each other’s phone numbers. he had slowly began to creep his way into your life after that. from shared classes, joint study sessions, cafe dates (though, you would never call it that), to deep conversations over chocolate ice cream and a disgustingly large bag of cheetos.

he was your best friend, your hope, your lifeline.

the boy you could come running to with your heart on your sleeve after another had broken it.

the boy who wiped your tears and told you how it was always their loss and never yours.

the boy who always managed to pick up your broken pieces and put them back together without ever complaining.

your jungwon.

what you don’t remember is when he became the boy you loved.

the thing that confused you most was that you knew.

you’ve always loved him.

you had loved him since he started barging into your home without needing to ask because you knew your mother loved having him over (and so did you).

you had loved him when he accidentally spilled his drink all over your senior prom dress and tried to clean it up for you, only to make it much worse.

you had loved him when he helped you move into your new university dorm and accidentally brought over a box of his own stuff instead of yours.

it’s still there, though.

his stuff. the box is tucked away under your bed. his spare toothbrush sits in the little mug you have in your bathroom. his hoodie hangs off the back of your desk chair. it’s a constant reminder that he’s there. always.

your love for him was obvious. he knew you loved him. you knew you loved him, and he loved you too. the confusing part was when the love started to feel different.

you did not love him like you loved your other friends. you did not love him like he was the boy you spent majority of your teenage life with. you did not love him like he was the boy you shared a dorm floor with. you did not love him like he was your best friend.

and that terrified you.

you take a mental note of when it all started to feel different.

the sun started to catch the tips of his hair differently. his laugh started to make you smile a little harder. his cologne started to make you feel dizzy. every time he spoke, your eyes would briefly land on his lips. his little habits became more endearing. his voice became the one thing you wanted to hear after a long day. you stopped crushing on other people. even he noticed.

“so, what happened with that one guy? y’know, the tall scary dude from your history class,” jungwon’s fingers played with the loose thread on your comforter. you reached for another gummy bear, popping it into your mouth.

you shrug, “he’s just.. not that cute anymore.”

jungwon snickered. he gave you that look. the one where he had to bite back a smile and raised his eyebrows at you.

“just the other week you were going on and on about him. now he’s just not that cute? i listened to you talk about him for months just for him to not be that cute?”

you grabbed the nearest object, your penguin pillow pet that he had gifted you for your 18th birthday, and chucked it at his head. he let out a scream, protecting his head with his arms.

“a girl changed her mind! sue me.”

jungwon peeks up at you from behind his hands, a teasing smile on his lips.

“if you say so.. you know, every time i ask you about one of your little love interests now, you never actually seem that into them. has y/n finally decided to live her life as an independent woman?!”

“i’ll hit you again.”

spending time with him every day only made things worse. the feelings began to grow. the pieces started to fit together and it was terrifying. you loved jungwon—no.

you were in love with him.

somehow, he managed to dig a cozy little hole in your heart and planted his ass in there. permanently.

first, came the panic. you were freaked out of your god damn mind. how did this even happen? you were supposed to be friends. best friends. what if this ruined your friendship? or worse—what if he rejected you? god, you could not possibly come back from that because this time, it was different.

it wasn’t just another crush. this was love. sick, twisted, and cruel love.

then, came the overthinking. what if he thinks you’re weird? for years, you would come to him crying over another. what if he thinks you were just using him as a rebound? would he view you differently if you confessed? what if you weren’t good enough for him?

he was the light of your life. he lit up every room he entered. there was never a smile unaccounted for when he was around.

your tried your best to be everything he needed, but what if it wasn’t enough? he deserved to be with someone great and you weren’t so sure that someone could be you.

your feelings grew, and so did the distance.

it started off as cancelled hang outs and cafe dates (again, not like you would call it that). then, it turned into missed text messages and calls. you no longer wished him ‘good morning’ first thing after you opened your eyes. eventually, you started avoiding him physically. it was a bit difficult considering he lived on your floor, but you knew him. you knew his schedule and worked around it.

it was clear that he noticed the space between you two. he had asked you about it when he caught you in the lobby of your dorm building, but you quickly brushed him off and ran for the front door. eventually, he stopped trying. the texts stopped coming in and every time you passed him by the elevator, neither of you acknowledged the other’s presence.

it hurt. the ache in your chest was more powerful than any heartbreak you had endured in the past few years. you missed him. your eyes lingered on his toothbrush every morning. even though he was gone, pieces of him were still scattered around your life.

you had finally had enough. you realized that his absence pained you more than his rejection ever could.

you love him and you wanted him to know that. you were ready.

you had written him a letter—just in case you couldn’t get the words out yourself. you even put a heart sticker on it. cheesy, but it made you smile.

with a newfound determination, you walked to the cafe. you knew he would probably be there at this time, thanks to your mutual friends who had secretly kept you updated on jungwon’s life and whereabouts. not like you asked or anything.

you stopped once you reached the building. you looked down at your hands, your thumb gently running over the inked letters of his name.

“now or never i guess, right?” you mumbled to yourself.

with closed eyes, you took a deep breath before turning the corner and approaching the glass door. you glanced through the large windows, and before you knew it your feet had stopped moving.

inside, tucked in a little corner, was jungwon. he sat facing the window which allowed you full view of his face. he was smiling. he seemed happy.

except, he wasn’t alone.

long brown hair. her back was facing you but it felt like her presence was mocking you.

you watched as he laughed along to whatever she was saying, his eyes crinkling into those little crescents you always admired. your heart squeezed a little harder when you watched her hand reach out to grab his.

you felt your breath catch. you didn’t realize you were crying till you heard your tears hit the envelope in your hands.

you were too late.

his eyes drifted to yours, widening in shock. recognition flashed in his expression. you watched his shoulders tense up. the moment was fleeting before he looked away, his attention returning to the person in front of him.

your felt your heart shatter.

you had gotten your heart broken countless times before, but this time the pain felt different.

this time, he was the one to brush you off.

this time, you had nobody to run home to. nobody to wipe your tears or piece your heart back together.

this time, it was your loss.

and that realization was something you weren’t sure you could heal from.

© wrldhoon 2025