#LIP PIERCING REIGNS SUPREME

[lotus-sunn]

he's gorgeous.

wake up dawg yasper posted more rottmnt scemo au content

[reveryfics]

Marvelous

Charles Xavier x Male Reader

Summary: Charles and Eric's need for new mutants brings them to a mutant owned Burlesque club, introducing them to a particular shape-shifter.

A/N: I'm back earlier then expected, but hopefully this and the Valentines Day fic make up for when I was gone. Requests open.

The velvet curtains parted with a sigh, releasing Charles and Eric into the smoky embrace of the Burlesque club. The air hung thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and anticipation. A sharply dressed maître d' immediately recognized them, his eyes widening slightly before a professional smile smoothed over his features. "Gentlemen," he murmured, ushering them through the crowded room. "Your table awaits."

They were led to a plush, dimly lit booth nestled near the grand stage, a prime vantage point for the evening's entertainment. The murmur of the crowd, the clinking of glasses, the low thrum of the music – all of it faded into the background as the house lights began to dim, casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. A hush fell over the audience, a collective intake of breath before the show began.

Then, you appeared.

A single spotlight pierced the darkness, illuminating the stage and revealing your striking presence. The shimmering blue of your skin seemed to absorb and reflect the light, an otherworldly hue that immediately captivated the eye. A cascade of luxurious blonde curls framed your face, contrasting beautifully with your unusual blue skin tone. A delicate pearl necklace rested against your chest, the creamy orbs glowing softly against your skin. The undeniably scandalous outfit you wore, a masterpiece of shimmering fabrics and strategically placed embellishments, clung to your body like a second skin, accentuating every curve and line. You moved with a mesmerizing grace, each step, each gesture, imbued with a confidence that radiated outwards, filling the entire room. It was as if the stage were your own private domain, a world where you reigned supreme. You danced with a passion that transcended mere performance, lost in the rhythm with the other Burlesque dancers, each movement a story told in the language of the body.

Your eyes swept across the audience, a slow, deliberate survey that took in every face, every expression. Then, your gaze locked with theirs. A slow, knowing smile spread across your lips, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. You danced closer to their booth, your hips swaying rhythmically, your eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings as you dipped low, your eyes locking with Charles's. You knew exactly who they were, and precisely why they had come. And you were damned if you wouldn't offer Charles a private showing of your… talents.

The crowd erupted in cheers, a wave of voices chanting your name, a testament to your popularity. As the music reached a crescendo, your body began to shift and change before their very eyes. The transformation was seamless, fluid, almost magical. Feminine features melted into masculine contours, delicate lines hardened into powerful angles. It was a breathtaking display of control and artistry, a testament to your mastery over your own form. The audience gasped, captivated by the spectacle unfolding before them.

Charles visibly licked his lips, his eyes glued to the stage. For a moment, he seemed to forget Eric's presence beside him, lost in the mesmerizing performance. "He's quite… marvelous, isn't he, Charles?" Eric murmured, his eyes fixed on you.

Charles could only nod, his breath catching in his throat. His gaze remained locked on the stage as you shed the last remnants of your costume, revealing a skin-tight ensemble that accentuated every curve and line of your newly formed body. The performance was hypnotic, a captivating blend of power and grace.

When your show concluded, a stagehand approached Charles, discreetly gesturing for him to follow. Eric gave him a knowing look, a hint of amusement in his eyes, as Charles was led through the club, the pulsating music and excited chatter fading slightly as he neared your dressing room.

The room was small but luxurious, decorated with plush velvet drapes and ornate mirrors. You were seated on a silken chaise lounge, a robe loosely draped around your form, a picture of relaxed power. A half-empty bottle of champagne sat on a nearby table, along with two crystal glasses. "Charles Xavier," you purred, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I knew you'd come."

Before Charles could even speak, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand before closing around his wrist, tugging him closer. Your eyes, intense and knowing, looked up at him through your lashes. "Crawling back to a shapeshifter, after Raven left you," you whispered, your voice laced with a playful challenge, a hint of vulnerability beneath the bravado. "So scandalous, yet I have a feeling you enjoy it."

Charles felt his cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue swirling within him. He couldn't deny the similarities between you and Mystique, but there was something different about you, an undeniable spark, a magnetic pull that drew him in. "Perhaps," he admitted, his voice a low murmur, his eyes searching yours. "But something tells me you aren't like Mystique. Although we could use someone of your… talents."

A throaty laugh escaped your lips, the sound both seductive and playful. Your body began to shift and change once more, the transformation as seamless and captivating as it had been on stage. It was a display of power, a demonstration of your complete control over your own form. "How could I say no to someone so… persuasive?" you purred, your voice a silken caress.

You released Charles' wrist, rising to your feet and backing him against the vanity. One hand cupped his cheek, your touch surprisingly gentle, while the other rested on the cool surface behind him, trapping him in your gaze. "We're going to get along nicely," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. Then, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tantalizing kiss, a promise of more to come.

You pulled away, licking your lips, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a graceful turn, you walked out of the dressing room, offering a playful wave to Eric, who was waiting just outside, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Charles touched his lips, a small, involuntary smile playing on his mouth. He knew he was a sucker for people like you, for the thrill of the unexpected, the allure of the unknown. He was drawn to your confidence, your power, your undeniable charisma.

"I'm so screwed," he muttered, a mixture of amusement, apprehension, and a touch of excitement swirling within him. He knew he was walking a dangerous line, but he couldn't resist the temptation to follow where you led.

[oshygoshy]

6:37 pm

word count - 907 words

warnings - kuroo is a loser also shitty writing, not proof read much

a/n - happy bday kuroo this is ass lowkey but i'm sorry i'm trying my best. i hate university i'm so busy and stressed but at least my suitemate got a kitty and she's so soft and warm and cute slay

anyways yeah kuroos a loser with no rizz...sorry. he's kicking his feet and giggling over 1 (one) interaction

there was a man. in your spot. at the library.

it was (unfortunately) finals week, meaning you were one more quiz away from a certified crash out, and one more discussion post away from taking a swan dive off the closest bridge. your left eye was twitching, you were running on less than the healthy 8 hours of sleep, and you were drinking your second energy drink of the day.

you were supposed to go to the library on campus to Your Spot, the one you have reigned supreme over for the past few months. it was quiet, on the 4th floor, away from everybody working on group projects below. it was secluded, off in the corner. it had a nice charging block with multiple outlets available, and it had a pretty view of some trees with some sunlight that would warm you as day faded into night.

it was perfect. it was beautiful.

and it was currently being taken by some guy.

your eye twitched again. you debated shoving him out of your chair, or pouring your drink over his computer, or maybe just glaring at him and biting his shoulder like a rabid animal (the aforementioned crash out from above), but you recognize that starting and escalating an altercation is not productive, and also that a homicide charge won't add anything to your gpa.

so you sighed, resigned, before making your way to the empty table a few feet from Your Spot. but you decided to do some investigative research (read: spying) to figure out what could possibly be so important for this man to study that he needed to take Your Spot. you quickly peek over his shoulder, scanning for his notes and computer.

“net profit…statistical probability…essay for…”

your eye twitches again. statistical probability? net profit? no fucking way Your Spot was taken by a business major?? a finance bro? an absolute buffoon?? did they even have finals, other than a coloring page? 

fuck you, mysterious business guy. fuck you. 

you were just about to leave when your eyes left his desk-

-and locked eyes with him. 

he...he caught you staring!!

wait. no. you caught him stealing your spot, and then you decided to snoop a bit, rightfully so! he's in the wrong here!!

"um, do you need something?" he asked, an easy smile on his lips. 

his eyes were hazel with golden depths, and though his hair was messy and his eyes tired, you could still see the gleam of a piercing (and honestly, kind of hot) look to them. 

"...no," you say. 

"you can have this table, if you want," he said, beginning to pack up. "i'm almost done here anyway." 

"oh no, you don't have to-"

"but don't you sit here everyday to study?" he whispered, standing up. you realized just then how tall he was. 

you catch his words after a second (you were not distracted by the height difference!), and stare at him hard. "what are you, a stalker? how do you know where i sit?"

he shrugged, zipping up his bag and hoisting it onto his shoulder. "well you sit in the same spot on the same floor like clockwork every night, so it's kind of hard not to not notice."

you rack your brain, trying to remember if you ever saw a guy like him sitting nearby you in the library. it would be hard to forget someone who looked like him (respectfully, and because he is tall and for no other reason!!!), but for some reason, you couldn't remember seeing him at all. maybe he really was a stalker?? "well why did you decide to take my spot then anyway, stalker?" you huff, annoyed. 

he had started leaving by now, and brushed your shoulder on the way out. he looked over his shoulder with a smile full of charm. 

"because i wanted an excuse to talk to someone pretty like you, of course," he said with a grin. "see you next week."

he left his crush standing jaw open as he nonchalantly scurried away. jesus christ, he never realized just how hard his heart would beat when he spoke to you.

he liked how focused you looked when you worked on your assignments, or how your finger tapped restlessly against your pencil when you came across something difficult. it was just a little school crush, really, and he shouldn't be looking too much into it. but when he got to the library today and saw someone had stolen his spot a few tables away, meaning that he could sit in yours and get an excuse to talk to you...well, he was just a little bit giddy.

he opened the old groupchat from his high school days. a lot of his friends from nekoma were busy with their own lives, but they still kept in touch to this day.

kuroo: guess who go to talk to their crush todayyyy yaku: you finally gained the guts? wow, how impressive. i'm sure they're head over heels for you now. kai: congratulations on saying hi!! kenma: stalker kuroo: i hate all of you.

he couldn't contain his little giggle. maybe next time, he would have the confidence to ask to sit next to you.

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 7)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 2838

warnings/notes: blood, murder, pain

Chapter 7: The Breaking Chains

Austin stood motionless as the shelter door slammed shut, the echo reverberating through the concrete walls. Victor's smirk and knowing words clung to him like the chill of the night air.

"He knows," Austin thought, jaw clenched. The secret he had fought so hard to protect now lay exposed under Victor's cunning gaze.

Bonnie's snarls permeated the tense silence, her wolf form still straining against the chains. Austin's eyes lingered on her a moment longer, taking in the wild fury that had replaced the gentle empathy he loved. She would come back to him, he knew this - but for now the beast ruled her mind.

With a reserved exhale, Austin turned to face Victor. His piercing eyes narrowed, ice-blue shards that cut through the dim lighting. This was an unforeseen complication, one he'd have to handle with care.

Victor's lips curled into a grotesque mimicry of a smile, his eyes alight with the kind of manic glee that sent shivers down one's spine. He circled around Austin like a shark scenting blood in the water, relishing the power he now wielded with the knowledge of a secret so destructive it could topple the alpha from his throne.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Victor taunted, his voice laced with venomous delight. "The great Austin Butler brought to his knees by a ghost. Oh, I almost wished Bonnie had stayed dead—or at least kept herself hidden away in whatever grave she crawled out of."

Austin's jaw clenched tight enough to crush stone, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The air between them crackled with tension, an invisible current charged by the looming full moon and the weight of unsaid threats.

"Careful, Viper," Austin growled lowly, the threat evident in his voice, though his words remained unspoken. "Some secrets are best left buried."

"Or what?" Victor stepped closer, his sneer deepening. "You'll unleash the big bad wolf? Please."

He danced just outside of Austin's reach, every word a sharpened dagger meant to provoke, to pierce through the cracks in Austin's carefully constructed armor.

"Bonnie Barlow, alive..." Victor mused aloud as if savoring the taste of each syllable. "The deserter, the weak link, your—what shall we call her? Your Achilles' heel?"

"Watch your mouth," Austin warned, his tone a low rumble of brewing storm clouds, a prelude to the violence he was capable of unleashing.

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?" Victor’s eyes gleamed with malice. "This is rich, really. Little Bonnie, back from the dead, and here you are, ready to throw it all away for her. What would the pack say?"

"Enough," Austin snapped, struggling to rein in the fury that threatened to spill over.

"Or you'll what, Austin?" Victor prodded, stepping dangerously close, within striking distance. "Lose control? Is she worth that much to you?"

"More than you could ever understand," Austin hissed, the muscles along his jaw working furiously. His piercing eyes, usually so steady and commanding, now blazed with an intensity that could set the world ablaze.

Victor's laughter sliced through the tension, a discordant note that spoke volumes of his disdain. "Is that supposed to scare me? Come on, Alpha. Show me what you're made of."

"Remember this moment," Austin said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of an unsheathed sword. "It'll be your last mistake."

The lunar brilliance seemed to ignite an inner fire within him, casting a wild light in his eyes that danced like flames licking at dry timber. With each breath, Austin's chest heaved, betraying the effort it took to keep the beast within at bay.

"Listen to me very carefully," Austin began, his voice low and deadly, the words slipping between clenched teeth. "You will bury what you think you know deep down. Bury it so far it never claws its way out."

Victor, unfazed by the palpable danger emanating from Austin, cocked his head to the side, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned in, feigning a conspiratorial whisper. "Or what, Austin? You'll tear me apart? Right here, right now?"

Austin's hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening as if they were stones meant for crushing. His body vibrated with suppressed rage, the call of the moon exacerbating his struggle for control.

"Always the protector," Victor sneered, undeterred by Austin's looming threat. "But let's ponder this, shall we? Is a deserter worth the throne of the Alpha?"

"Enough!" Austin's voice thundered, echoing off the walls, a clear warning of the tempest gathering force within him. "Your life hangs by a thread. And I won't hesitate to sever it."

Bonnie's body thrashed violently, her wolf form a blur of sinew and fury. The chains that bound her rattled against the concrete wall with each ferocious jerk, the metal links screeching in protest. Neither Austin nor Victor noticed the subtle give in the ancient stone, the way fine dust whispered to the floor with each movement, portending the imminent rupture of her restraints.

"Even if I wanted to," Austin said, the words ripping from his throat like the snarl of an animal cornered, "I couldn't abandon her." His gaze never left Victor, but the intensity of his declaration seemed to stretch, to reach beyond the confrontation and envelop Bonnie in a silent vow.

Victor paused, his eyes flicking between Austin's rigid stance and Bonnie's frenetic struggle. "Your mate?" he echoed, the notion so incredulous it drew a half-laugh from him, a sound devoid of any true humor. "You bind yourself to a deserter, and you expect me to believe she is your destined other half?"

The muscle in Austin's jaw ticked as he suppressed the urge to lunge, his voice low and edged with ice. "Believe what you will, Victor. Cross me on this, and you'll find yourself prey to consequences you can't begin to fathom."

"Consequences," Victor scoffed, yet there was a glint of something sharp and calculating in his eyes. "I suppose we all have our chains to bear, don't we, Alpha? Or should I say, former Alpha?"

Austin's hands clenched, but his posture remained controlled, a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He could feel the pull of the full moon coursing through his veins, urging him towards violence, but it was the bond—the unyielding connection to Bonnie—that held him rooted in place.

In the background, the metal clink of the chains grew more erratic, more desperate. The wall shuddered with Bonnie's relentless attempts at freedom, the cracks around the anchor points widening, nearly imperceptible to the human eye, but a silent testament to the inevitable.

Victor's laughter echoed through the cavernous space, each chortle a sharp jab at Austin's resolve. "You cling to fairytales, Butler? I would've expected more from you."

Austin's piercing eyes began to shimmer with an otherworldly light, a clear sign of his barely contained fury. "Think whatever you like," Austin growled, his voice laced with a dangerous promise. "Lay a finger on her, and I swear, Victor, your end will come at my hands."

The air around them seemed to crackle with tension, the unseen energy of the supernatural world colliding with the gritty reality of their human forms. Bonnie's whimpers blended with the sound of weakening metal, a haunting melody to the standoff unfolding before her.

Victor's smirk was a slashed canvas of hubris, carved across his face as he squared his stance. "So be it," he hissed, the words slithering out like a challenge long-awaited. Muscles coiled beneath his skin, he launched himself at Austin, a viper striking in lethal silence.

But fate, it seemed, had a taste for irony. Just as Victor's shadow loomed over Austin, poised to eclipse him in combat, an audible snap cracked through the tension-laden air. Metal links once bound to stone now surrendered to ferocity incarnate. Bonnie, her form a blur of primal instinct, surged forward with a force that spelled retribution.

The impact was a symphony of snarls and flesh, a dance macabre choreographed by the wild heart of a wolf scorned. Bonnie, driven by raw survival, became the storm, the embodiment of nature's unchecked wrath as she collided with Victor. Her jaws found their mark again and again, the symphony reaching its crescendo as Victor's calculated bravado crumbled into cries lost within the cacophony of the struggle.

Austin stood, the alpha within him stirring, witnessing the untamed justice that unfolded before his eyes. Bonnie's ferocity was a testament to her strength, and yet in every movement, every desperate thrash from Victor, Austin saw the unspoken bond that tethered him to her—a bond that defied the very logic of their brutal world.

The scent of blood and fury filled the air as Bonnie, a tempest of fangs and claws, unleashed the full measure of her newly awakened power. Victor's taunts were silenced by the guttural snarls ripping from her throat, each snap of her jaws a sentence of retribution upon his flesh.

Victor's voice was shrill with panic, his words gurgling through the torrent of his own blood. He thrashed beneath her, his attempts at defense pitiful against the onslaught. Bonnie’s teeth, like daggers honed by nature's hand, sank deep into the sinew of Victor's arm, tearing through muscle and bone with the ease of a hot knife through butter. A symphony of cracks and wet rends accompanied the visceral chorus as she bit down again, her primal instincts dictating the dance of death. Victor's screams became a ragged litany of pain, the sound of his agony mingling with the thud of his body against the unforgiving ground. His fingers clawed at the floor, seeking purchase, seeking escape, but there was none to be found.

"Bonnie, enough!" Austin's command cut through the frenzy, but it was the thunderous growl that followed which stilled the bloodbath. It was a growl that spoke of ancient authority, that resonated with the primordial essence of the alpha wolf.

In an instant, the dynamics of power shifted. Bonnie's ears flattened against her skull, a whine escaping her as she backed away, eyes downcast. She slunk to the corner, her form shrinking under the weight of Austin's dominance. Her once ferocious energy now tempered, subdued by the spectral chain of hierarchy stronger than any forged by man.

Austin stood over Victor, breaths coming in heavy torrents, the beast within him pacing behind the bars of his human restraint. And though the alpha had roared, it was silence that fell upon the scene—a silence punctuated only by the labored breaths of the living and the soft whimpers of the subdued.

Austin's chest heaved, the rush of the fight still surging through his veins as he fought to cage the alpha wolf within. His nostrils flared, taking in the coppery scent of blood that now painted the derelict shelter with its grim strokes. The air was thick with it, a visceral reminder of the violence that had just unfolded.

"Bonnie," Austin's voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the ragged gasps that filled the room. He dared not look at her yet, not until he had fully reined in the beast clawing beneath his skin, begging for further release.

A shudder rippled through him, a final struggle before the beast acquiesced, retreating into the recesses of his soul. With every fiber of his being pulsating from the exertion, Austin turned slowly, his gaze falling upon the ruin that lay before him.

The sight that greeted him was grotesque—a tableau of carnage. Victor's body, or what remained of it, was a mangled mess of torn flesh and exposed bone. The once slicked-back hair was now plastered with blood, the silver tongue silenced forever amidst the garish red.

"Damn you, Vic," Austin muttered under his breath, a complex swirl of emotions churning within him—anger, sorrow, regret. He knew this moment would leave a permanent scar on the fabric of the pack, an indelible mark on his own soul.

"Should have listened," he continued, speaking to the lifeless form as if expecting some semblance of a response. "Should've known better than to corner a wolf."

He took a step closer, his boots sticking slightly to the pooling blood beneath him. Victor's eyes were vacant, a stark contrast to the maniacal glint they'd held just moments ago—a glint that had sealed his fate.

"Could've been different, brother," Austin said, the words catching in his throat. It was a title he had once bestowed upon Victor, one of kinship within the ranks of their kind. But that bond had been severed, cleaved apart by greed and ambition.

He turned away, unable to stomach the sight any longer. The silence seemed to swallow him whole, leaving a bitter aftertaste of the chaos that had reigned. This was the harsh law of their world—the unforgiving nature of pack life where only the strongest survived.

The stillness of the bomb shelter was oppressive, the silence a stark contrast to the chaos that had reigned moments before. Austin's breath came out in heavy gusts as he turned back to Bonnie, her delicate form lying crumpled on the cold concrete floor. Moonlight streamed through the narrow windows, casting an ethereal glow over her body, revealing the crimson stains marring her hands and mouth—the damning evidence of her violent passage into their world.

"Bonnie," Austin murmured, his voice a low rumble filled with a cocktail of emotions. He knelt beside her, his large, calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her peaceful face. The sight of her like this—so vulnerable yet so inherently powerful—sent a twinge of protectiveness coursing through him.

He reached out, hesitating for just a fraction of a second, before gently scooping her into his arms. The warmth of her against his chest stirred something deep within him, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of the responsibility now resting on his broad shoulders.

Austin's jaw clenched at the thought of dealing with the fallout. Victor's ambition had been his downfall, but the consequences were now Austin's to bear. He'd have to move fast, cover the tracks, make the death look like another casualty of the gang wars that ravaged the streets above. But first, there was the matter of Bonnie and the truth she would have to face when she awoke.

"Can't hide this from you, Bon. Not this," he whispered, though he knew she couldn't hear him. His heart twisted at the thought of her eyes—those deep pools of innocence—looking up at him in horror when she realized what her claws had done. The confession loomed over him like a specter, a truth too gruesome for words, yet one that could not be kept in shadows forever.

"Should've protected you better," he continued, his voice thick with regret. The burden of leadership weighed heavily upon him; the knowledge that he had allowed her to be thrust into this dark reality pained him more than any physical wound ever could.

With a last lingering look at Victor's body, Austin adjusted Bonnie's light frame in his arms and moved toward the exit. The shelter, once a place of safety, now felt like a tomb—one he was all too eager to leave behind. As he stepped out into the night, the cool air hit his face, and he steeled himself for the journey ahead. There were miles to cover before they reached the sanctuary of his cabin—a place where he could shield her, if only for a little while, from the monstrous truth of her new existence.

His eyes roved over her features, searching for the girl he knew before the beast had awakened within her. She seemed peaceful now, a deceptive tranquility that belied the violence of her transformation. He allowed himself a small, pained smile. The torment that had racked her body, causing bones to break and reforge, was finally at an end. She was light in his arms, her head lolling against his chest as if seeking the comfort she was unconscious of needing.

The forest stood sentinel around him, an audience to the drama that unfolded under its watchful boughs. Austin moved with purpose, each step carrying Bonnie further from the horrors of her first transformation and closer to the sanctuary of his cabin.

"Sleep now, Bonnie," he promised into the silence, "I've got you."

The woods opened up to a narrow trail, the path familiar under his feet even in the dead of night. His cabin, hidden from prying eyes, awaited them—a haven where he could tend to her needs and postpone the inevitable revelations of dawn.

"Everything's gonna be alright," he spoke again, not sure if the words were meant more for her or for himself. The weight of her in his arms was nothing compared to the burden of the secret he harbored, but for now, he focused on the rhythm of his stride, the feel of her breathing, and the promise of safety found only within the walls he called home.

Stay tuned for part 8!! Click HERE to view!

[reddragon-cowboy]

honeysuckle kisses | spike spiegel x oc [ poc ]

Genre: Pure Fluff. Romance. Warnings: Partial nudity. Highly Suggestive ?

Notes: I wanted to write Domestic Spike, and then my hand slipped, and it got longer than I expected...um yea. A oneshot that falls in line with the story of my fanfic: Concrete Roses. My oc, Niah, is a person of color. This scene happens three years after the events of RFB. It's just a lot of kissing and teasing and slight dom Spike. Again, hope you enjoy poetic imagery ! More here

a few small breaths hitch in the back of her throat, full lips parted slightly in quiet anticipation as she observes with brown eyes that rests low and slowly blink, long lashes fluttering gently as a drowsy sigh escape, muscles relaxed where she comfortably lays upon the bed. The red curtains ruffle as the wind slips through the crack of the window, invading this moment as it spreads airy outdoor aromas into the interiors space of the bedroom, smells like sunlight that breathes life into one's dead eyes. It travels on the breeze where honeysuckle tastes sweet and reigns supreme, fueling humble desires which smolders between entanglements of lovers who bask in the hearts of one another.

Then a slip of his finger and her body shivers, skin tingling with warmth where his lips softly rove over sun-kissed skin, applying kisses ( one here or there ) lightly upon her belly that felt soft to mere touch as his eyelids fall shut. The length of his body lays partially on top of her, his ribs resting in between her thighs while he playfully nuzzles his face into her stomach. And it quivers when he breathes a sigh against her belly, which she rewards him with light giggles while he sucks kisses close to her navel, knowing very well this spot was easily susceptible to being tickled. He discovers how he loves submerging himself in these acts of affection, so simple and easy, he thinks, drowning all five of his senses into her luscious warmth she bathes him in at the core of her bud.

Spike can't seem to remember why he delayed this for so long. On several occasions, as months ran through different seasons of years that passed, he'd conjure the rationalization that a Bounty Hunter of his caliber couldn't accept this life he considered to be a blessing, couldn't partake in this type of life that held the potential to tame bloodthirsty urges, denying himself luxuriation of this indulgence due to past sins that smeared black within the patterned ridges of his fingerprints. And yet, for a man riddled in bloodguilt, who once upon a time occasionally dipped his hands in a bowl of bloodshed under a higher authority's command, his hands move languidly with such gentle haste, fingertips gliding across smooth skin left bare to his caress as they drum along both sides of her waist.

The room remained quiet for the most part since their awakening to this calm morning, except for audible expressions of hushed sighs mixed with whispered utterances, and again he murmurs something she still could barely hear, between movements of his lips where he whispers poetic sayings that tickles near her womb. If he was to look up at her for a split second, he'd see how she tries to hold back the smile that hovers over her mouth in a futile attempt to conceal more giggles that threatens to break free, which results in quiet laughter that rumbles in her chest.

A hum creeps up his throat when he feels her fingers finding their way into his hair, entangles them within his curly strands that coils and lovingly twist over her hand. She holds her breath as his name teases on her tongue. And she knows very well the nature of his name implied something sharp -- something that can swiftly pierce through layers of flesh no matter the depth, deep enough to reach and stab the core of a fragile heart. That is. . . if he wasn't given lessons on understanding and extending mercy for ones viewed by the world as weak, lesser and unseen by societies standards. Teachings on tenderness inspires love to blossom from the seed she planted. For whom would have ever known he was ever capable of it. A snake. A wolf. A dragon. He was three all in one. A grotesque beast.

❝ Spike ? ❞ she uttered lightly.

❝ Mmmm. . . yeeeaah ? ❞ His voice breathes huskily into her skin, full and heavy that drenched with remnants of sleep. She could hear the fatigue that saturates his words. Always have. It was obvious how tiredness weighed him down in most aspects of his life in how he carried himself--all in the way he talked, walked, and even smoked a cig or handled a pole when he fished. But with her, and for her, he manages to gain just a little energy, a little more than what he usually would offer to anyone else .

She seals her mouth closed, not quick to respond, however, only stare from beneath long lashes that rests ever lower as a similar weariness hangs over her eyelids. Spike lifts his head to look at her, clearly waiting for some sort of response in which his name that fell out her maw beckon his attentions, beckons his gaze which ( also ) take their sweet time roving over the lush hills of her breasts that were adorned modestly in the comfort of a black lace bra - an exquisite sight to behold that his fingers ache to unwrap. But in regard to Niah, there's still nothing, not even a peep from those gorgeous lips that only further tempts him once he locks in on them, and he realizes a sudden thirst for the feel of them against his own.

❝ You call my name and don't have anything to say, huh ? ❞ He couldn't help the chuckle that deeply erupts within his chest, mainly because she then ( almost shyly ) touches the back of her hand to her mouth, a nonverbal act to keep her mouth sealed as if there was a secret she couldn't tell. Oh, so coy with a sweetness he's addicted to. Niah didn't have to do much of anything to tug his attention away from most things - say his name for no reason other than to hear his voice, and he's hooked on the string that reels him in to attend to her cares. Especially now that his forearms prop on the mattress that settles on either side of her as he starts to inch forward, dragging his bare torso as he crawls up over her smaller frame.

She trembles out a small whimper as his body presses down onto her, the linen wrinkling underneath her. She feels herself sink into the mattress, lets loose a low moan while his hips burrow between the warm space of her thighs as he comfortably rests a large portion of his weight on top of her. Niah was short in comparison to his taller stature, but Spike knew she could handle it, or at the very least tolerate most of what he lays on her. Besides, there was a type of pleasure he obtained in it, derived in the way her body squirms beneath him as she adjusts to his new position, struggles against his strength as if she were prey caught in the jaws of a predator. Only in this instance, the little dove had no such desire to fly away or be saved.

An elbow props him up as his face hovers above her, and thick strands of curly hair tickle her forehead lightly where his messy bangs droop languid, lax, and intimate. She swallows thickly, lips parting as warmth rushes to her cheeks that spreads down her neck. He smirks, half-lid mismatched eyes locked on hers, close enough she could see his pupils were dilated. ❝ I kinda like the way you say my name anyhow - can't never get enough of it. Y'know what I mean ? ❞ He decides to bring his other hand closer, positions his thumb sideways so he may brush it over the hill of her cheek, down till it stops at her jaw and repeats . ❝ --nothing else has to be said other than that. ❞ within his eyes brews a cup of desire, and her heart palpitates with a twisted ache, knew what his words implied: a teeny tiny dictation he speaks gentle disguised as a suggestion, subtle sayings full of lustful connotations.

Quickly his gaze then flickers to her mouth, pupils full blown wide as they trace the voluptuous shape of her lips. They looked so soft and kissable. Nicely round and full that almost makes him salivate at the thought of her dulcet flavor, lips he's itching to roughly bruise with his teeth in a hot searing kiss, leave his mark as one of her reminders that he greedily owns her. Yet, he clears his throat, absolute willpower holds back the beast by an iron collar clamped around his neck. Patience tells him such feverish urgency could wait for just a few minutes longer. There was no rush. The birds were still singing, and the morning was still young as the world slowly arises awake to a new day. He will drink the delicious fill of her cup quite soon.

And it absolutely amazes him how he developed self-discipline to begin with. Spike don't recall how he did it, how he survived all those months with these feelings that slowly nibbled away at the stone defenses that encircled his heart, left him weak and vulnerable to her dreamy enchantment she casted in every passing second he spent in her presence . Her every touch ( no matter how small ), every look that may linger a second longer, stimulating something buried deep within his psyche to flower from the land of the dead. He couldn't believe how it beat all odds. How a rose could rise from a crack in solid concrete.

Niah watches in silence beneath his stare, still no utterance escapes her as his face drew an inch closer, notices the way desire resembles hunger that simmers in the amber liquid of his eyes that grew dark, obvious his mind had wandered into a different territory, somewhere not as clean nor wholesome as white purity. That was good for her. And again, she doesn't have to do much at all. A little effort : she only pulls her bottom lip in for a quick nip, a single canine pinches the supple flesh there before her tongue swipes over with a fresh sheen of saliva. His adams apple bobs accordingly, a noise that befits more of a deep moan rumbles his throat as he blinked, licking his lips. His eyes flit back to hers immediately where he sees an ounce of mischief swirling within, hinders on innocent in her doe brown eyes that were laid low and sleepily alluring, never fails to make him melt. And her finger lifts that merely brushes under the tip his chin, like a soft petals caress.

a subtle tease. ohhh, she could be just as mean of a tease as he when she wanted to be. Man, he was so weak, oh how far he has fallen from the image of a stoic man who at one time preferred a cigarette's toxic kiss to his lips, and smoke where warm vapors brush venomous whispers over cold cheeks.

He gulps thick, throat feeling dry and in need of her water she supplies. ❝ You mind if I kiss you ? ❞ Even for Spike when he actually heard the words tumble out his mouth, he realized it was stupidest question he could've ever ask her. Of course, he can steal a kiss from her whenever he so pleased. Any time. Any day, under the sun and moon of earth he knows she adores so much. But he at least earns a small laugh out of her in a burst of mirth, which is all that matters in the world he built with her.

She finally shakes her head in response. No. And she smiles just a bit. It drives him wild how she chooses to tease him. So demure and ever tempting, like the little prey she is, typically common in slow mornings such as this one that bathes the room in a hazy golden glow. And he's grateful he's actually alive to witness such beauty that gave birth to the image of her.

This is where patience comes to its end.

His head dips low, tilting it to the side, and lightly does his lips skims over the surface of hers. The sensation surprised her for a second that her heart rate spiked, not expecting him to start at such a slow, steady pace, but it made her heart flutter all the same, the way his lips ( teasingly ) ghosts over the shape of her own that imitates the touch of a feather. His nose bumps against hers softly, peers down at her visage with those lazy, half-lid eyes that bore into hers, taking a dip into her earthy brown hues. The tip of his tongue licks her bottom lip as he pulls slightly away, and with his free hand he touches his palm to her cheek, tenderly strokes the length of her eyebrow with his thumb.

Spike could be sweet if he feels someone merits his fond regards, but all throughout these gesticulations he bestows upon her only leaves her senses a tad overwhelmed, prompts her mouth to part where Niah releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. His capability and utter willingness to demonstrate this side of himself always left her mind in a daze and gripped a tight hold on her heart. This was the flip of a coin where he exudes a rare, raw fondness that he reveals only for her to experience in these special moments alone.

❝ Mind if I kiss you again ? ❞ His lips quirk up in a half-smirk with a peek of his teeth, but there in his eyes she sees a star faintly glimmer in their cosmic depths.

A small utterance in a low breath. ❝ Was that a real kiss ? ❞

Moments like these, he makes her feels special. Moments like these, he wonders why she chose him. And yet, he can't worry about that, for he takes the love she offers as it is.

❝ Yea, but this one is even better . ❞

red curtains flutter as the wind blows. It fills her lungs as she sucks in a sharp breath right before his lips are pressed against hers, and her eyes are fluttering close, hands moving as one arm wrap across his shoulder-blades, the other where small fingers weave in the tangles of his hair as her hand lovingly holds the back of his head. It ignites a spark of tingles to swarm the area her fingertips graze his scalp, and he exhales through his nostrils with a hum of pleasure as a wave of goosebumps pour down his back like water at the feeling of her hand in his hair. Somewhat breathless, she fails to suppress a groan as he applies more of his weight atop her body, breasts squish against his broad chest that expands with every intake of breath, finds difficulty in moving as she slightly squirms underneath. Spike, nonetheless, relishes in her feeble attempts, something gratifying in the notion of keeping her still in place beneath him right where he wants her, under his control that bespoke a dominate nature.

Her head sinks into the plush crevice of the pillow as he pushes his face onto hers. The temperature of his body starts to rise at a quick pace. Her hand drifts from his head to allow her finger to lightly trace a circle between his shoulder blades, the other, ever so gingerly slides the tip of her middle finger down the length of his spine ever so slowly. And it couldn't be contained nor suppressed in the way his eyes are forced shut as his body shudders at her touch, prying his mouth away to let loose a deep moan as he bathes her cheeks with the warmth of his breath. Oh, such a sexy noise she drew out of him. Niah was keenly aware of how his body reacts to certain stimuli in different zones where pleasure was easily achieved- his sensitivity to sensual touches, incredibly so vulnerable to her sultry caress.

Spike takes a moment to clear his throat, nerves jumbled as the shock of pleasure steadily dissipates with a small shake of his head, but not another second passes before he's greedily claiming her lips once more with a grunt, sharp eyebrows furrowed and pressed against her forehead. The softness of her lips never once loses form as they continue to mold and delectably squish against his own in their shared kiss. His mouth had accumulated with enough saliva that it slicks in-between as his lip's glides over her supple flesh that bends with ease to his sway, feels moist and warm as he feels her tongue offer gentle swipes over his bottom lip. Honestly, it was all too much for the bounty hunter, his biceps bulging as his hands grip the pillow on either side of her head. And a moment arrives where she parts to catch her breath, but it's stolen as he dips his tongue deep into the cavern of her mouth, angling his head to prod further as the wet muscle hungrily slither within to explore the sweetness of her flavor. The mere thickness of his tongue that protrudes into her mouth elicits a whine which delicately crawls up her throat, a noise that sounded so pretty, so small, fragile as a porcelain vase, an absolute exquisite mewl that tastes like red wine in which he swallows in haste.

Covetousness slither like a snake that wrap about his psyche where the beast takes hold and drinks his fill from her cup, indulging in the special concoction of her taste where a potent sweetness ripples with water as rose petals floats within the basin. He moans deeply into her mouth, flicking and swirling his tongue around her smaller one, his salvia shared generously where a little dribble on the side of her mouth. Spike's hand comes to rest on her hip, gently slide down her thigh before shifting her leg up and over his pelvis. He cracks a single eye open to observe her face, discovers her eyes were lulled closed, and he could've sworn he was dreaming when he saw stars dust off her lashes, as she was too immersed in the moment, her heart pounding heavy with fervor against her chest as their tongues dance in motion through their slow, sultry kiss, and her hands once more become lost in the thick forest of his hair.

Their souls entwined during the kiss that flowered with honeysuckle, blossoming summer yellow along vines that interwove through the wounds of one heart bleeding red, one she nurtured, bringing ultimate relief to his pain where a flame once flared bright crimson, extinguished with the aid of water that trickled from her gentle, loving hand. The wild beast drinks from her cup from the bucket he pulled from her water-well, once more being made alive in the promise that bloomed out of hope when he believed he was dead.

They partake in a loveful symphony as sighs breathe hushed and insatiable moans stir their bellies with the crackling of a fire. The mattress creaks under their combined weight, dust particles drifting within misty beams of sunlight that caress their figures that became entrapped within white sheets, limbs entangled while riveted in passion that brews coals of ice that melt against their heat. Niah's mouth separates from him and his tongue withdraws, his lips feeling a brush of coolness when she peels the warmth of hers away to draw in a lungful of air in a breathy gasp, her profile meeting the pillow with a turn of her head. He burrows his nose into her warm skin, the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, her scent reminiscent of faint rainfall and strawberry oil that buzzes his senses, balmily drifts up his nostrils as he takes a long inhale. Struggling to level her breath, her eyes shut with a small shiver, feeling something wet there, realizing his tongue was slowly running up the curve of her neck for another quick taste.

Spike could never quite get enough. ❝ You're sweet, y'know that ? ❞

[brokenmagxc]

@agloryofuniicorns saw a super secret starter call. ( joshua )

THE TALE OF ETERNAL FLAME IS OLDER THAN HE COULD IMAGINE, and yet, still it seemed like such a tale indeed — fiction on dying lips. what light was there left in this godforsaken wasteland, where famine and war reigned supreme ?? he is no fool to believe such stories exist anymore, for the last sighting of flame was years prior, and he was doubtful he would see anything similar to the brilliant glory of the phoenix in his lifetime. a firebird risen from ash ; such things elude him. and yet, the heat that washes at his core is unmistakably overwhelming. as if to kill him, and light aflame a new life in the measly whistle of his breath. he shudders, eyes drawing wide as they meet unexpectant ocean blues. his muddy gaze is washed in fire, crystalized, struck in such warmth that wood turns to sand then to glass. the irises light in GOLD, for he pierces through the other's soul and sees it — the flame of the phoenix, and something horribly dark chained painfully against its wing.

he stares intently at the other's chest, caught in the daze of feverish ire locked by the cold starred night. it is not until blonde hair moves, throat clearing, that he sucks in a breath and takes a step back. face illuminates in sheepish pinks — he is beside himself. had he been staring the whole time ??

“ ah — i am sorry. ” arthur apologizes, golden eyes flickering back to the other's face. the gentle blues calm him, cooling his gilded hues back to their dirt-colored browns. head tilts ; he flashes an embarrassed smile and thinks to take another step back — maybe to run ?? hide from the light that exposes him like so. “ i thought... thought i saw something. must have been the HEAT ; ah, the sun playing tricks on me. ”

[deeznutssaregay]

The Forbidden Dance of Flames and Desires - Choso x Reader Smut

Chapter 1: In the Midst of Raging Flames

Amidst the enigmatic world of jujutsu sorcerers, where curses and fear reign supreme, there existed an individual untouched by chaos. That individual was you, a vibrant and passionate woman with an adventurous spirit that often led you into unforeseen circumstances.

You found yourself caught in the clutches of an intense battle between jujutsu sorcerers and ancient curses, seeking refuge behind a crumbling building. The earth trembled beneath your feet as each strike landed with thunderous force. That's when you caught sight of him.

Choso, a tall and brooding jujutsu sorcerer with a commanding presence, fought against the curses with an elegance that left you spellbound. His untamed ebony hair framed his chiseled features, his intense crimson eyes piercing through the chaos. In that moment, desire ignited within your heart, an attraction that defied reason.

Chapter 2: Uncharted Flames

Unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing you towards Choso, you mustered the courage to approach him. His fierce aura resonated with your own fiery spirit, and so your paths converged. As time progressed, you found yourself entwined in stimulating conversations about the occult, lost in his mysterious demeanor.

It was during a fateful meeting by the river that undeniable chemistry blossomed between you. The sun dipped below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with hues of orange and pink, mirroring the fiery passions that coursed through your veins. As the night's darkness embraced you, Choso's voice, hoarse with longing, whispered into your ears, sowing the seeds of untamed fantasies.

Chapter 3: The Dance of Flames

Guided by the allure of forbidden desires, you found yourself in the depths of Choso's sanctuary—a forgotten shrine enveloped in secrecy. Eerie shadows danced across the walls, their movements mirroring the flickering of candlelight. The air was thick with anticipation as Choso's gaze lingered hungrily upon your form.

With trembling hands, he traced the contours of your face, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks, his fingertips igniting trails of fire along your skin. With each touch, the flames of passion spiraled higher, threatening to consume both of you. His lips found yours in a fervent kiss, a union forged by desire and the unspoken acknowledgement of each other's hidden yearnings.

Chapter 4: Exploring the Depths

Beneath the moonlit sky, your bodies melded together as if they were crafted for one another's pleasure. Choso's touch was both gentle and commanding, a testament to his longing as well as his determination to grasp this fleeting moment of forbidden ecstasy.

The air hummed with the symphony of whispers, gasps, and the symphony only lovers know. Your bodies entangled, finding solace in the rhythm that grew between you. Lost in a haze of pleasure, Choso's skillful hands explored every inch of your being, leaving imprints of desire upon your skin.

Chapter 5: Consuming Flames

The flames intensified, burning brighter with each gasp and moan that escaped your lips. Choso's fervor matched yours, his movements mirroring the tempestuous desires that thrummed within your very core. Together, you embarked on a journey of carnal delight, surrendering to the flames that consumed both your bodies and souls.

As the final waves of pleasure crashed over you, serenity embraced your intertwined forms. The echoes of fierce desires gradually transformed into whispers of contentment and belonging. You lay entangled among the scattered embers, every breath a testament to the forbidden dance you had shared.

Epilogue: Embers of Love

In the aftermath of your passionate encounter, you and Choso found solace in each other's arms, cherishing the stolen moments of togetherness. The world of jujutsu sorcerers and ancient curses seemed worlds away as you reveled in the mutual understanding and affection you had discovered.

Even amidst the chaos, you'd found your place, your heart aflame with unwavering desire for Choso, the man who ignited the passions within you that no curse or fear could extinguish.

And so, your journey continued, two souls fused by the unbreakable bond forged through the forbidden dance of flames and desires.

[my-my-my]

🍫 💛🎤 for the emoji asks, please!! <3

🍫 Cheese or chocolate?

Oh I am a chocolate FIEND! Preferably dark or milk (I really detest white chocolate). Chocolate cake, chocolate cookies, chocolate bars... I will eat it alllll.

(That's not to say I hate cheese, I also love a good cheese board, but my love for chocolate reigns supreme haha!)

💛 Do you have any piercings?

Yes, but only two lobe piercings! I want to get more ear piercings (either a helix, conch or a third lobe piercing), but I have terrible healing luck, so it might not happen. At the same time, I'm OBSESSED with Maria Tash's ear jewelry (but not her prices...), so who knows!

When I was a kid (like 15) I realllly wanted a lip and eyebrow piercing but I'm glad I didn't get one haha. I don't have the face for it.

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

YES! Many actually. I'm not a good singer but I love karaoke. My go to songs are:

ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me

Madonna - La Isla Bonita

Other songs that aren't on karaoke set lists (hahaha) but I know all the words to:

Jackie Chain feat. Jhi Ali - Rollin' (Diplo Remix) [embarrassing, this song was my anthem when I was 19 y/o and too into partying and drugs 😔]

I can read and understand French relatively well (not at a professional level though), but I struggle A LOT to speak and write it (aside from basic/intermediate conversations). I started learning it when I was 8 y/o since it's mandatory and I took it all the way up to undergrad, so knowing the lyrics and singing along to French songs has helped me A LOT.

Brigitte Fontaine & Areski - Le Brin d'Herbe

Cœur de Pirate - Comme des enfants

Julien Clerc - Quand je joues

Etienne Daho - Le Grand Sommeil

Alain Chamfort - Paradis (Paradis reprise)

Julia Lanoë & Flavien Berger - À reculons (Rebeka Warrior Remix)

Thanks for asking!! This was fun :D

[normally0]

"Silent Struggle: Architects Under the Eye"

In the heart of Shoreditch, where the echoes of history dance with the beat of modernity, two architectural giants stood side by side – BIG and ACME. While their façades gleamed with innovation and promise, within their walls, a silent struggle brewed, hidden beneath the guise of progress.

At the helm of BIG, the imposing figure of Mr. Orwell cast a shadow over the bustling office. With his piercing gaze and unwavering control, he ruled with an iron fist, his presence looming over every blueprint and design. As the embodiment of Big Brother, he held sway over the architects of ACME, his watchful eye never faltering.

Among the ranks of ACME, a solitary figure stood out – ‘K’. An anonymous architect, shrouded in secrecy and burdened by knowledge, ‘K’ knew the truth that lurked beneath the surface. Yet, bound by tradition and the fear of reprisal, he remained silent, his lips sealed tight against the whispers of dissent.

In the corridors of power, where whispers of Cold War narratives lingered like ghosts of the past, ‘K’ navigated a delicate dance between loyalty and rebellion. Each day, he toiled away in the shadow of BIG, his creativity stifled by the weight of surveillance and control.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a flicker of defiance sparked within ‘K’s heart. In the depths of Shoreditch, where the lines between reality and dystopia blurred, he dared to dream of a world where freedom reigned supreme, where architects could create without fear of reprisal.

And so, as the sun set over the skyline of London, ‘K’ stood at the crossroads of destiny, his resolve steeled against the oppressive gaze of Big Brother. For in the heart of Shoreditch, where the spirit of innovation thrived, one architect dared to challenge the status quo, ready to carve his own path in the annals of architectural history.

[lalunanymph]

dear jean (5)

summary: Two childhood friends—Jean and Y/N—are reunited by a spontaneous letter and eventually find comfort in one another. But in a world where chaos and Titans reign supreme, can an innocent love reminiscent of their last untainted years bear its weight? Or will it succumb to the terrors of their reality?

pairing: jean kirstein x civilian! f reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, canon-compliant, 18+

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, an arrest, mentions of torture, flashback, recovery

a/n: watched the first episode of the final arc. brb crying rn </3

masterlist • chapter 6

“Miss L/N. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” officer Menk said as he held up a baton to your face.

You peeked through your right eye, your other one resolutely swollen shut.

“Please,” you whispered through chapped and dehydrated lips. “I don’t… I don’t know. I told you everything. Everything.”

He shook his head. “You’re not telling us where Jean Kirstein and his comrades are.”

“I don’t know,” you whimpered. “I don’t know. He never told me.”

You were quickly finding out that Menk was the one who she should look out for. The two officers were playing a game with your. First, Stodt would come in and persuade your to tell him where Jean was with promises of letting your go. When he failed to extract information from your, Menk would come in to start your cycle of torture.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Miss L/N,” Menk said and gave a heavy sigh. “I would hate to be the man who ruined your face.”

He lifted the baton and you screamed, trying to defend your face but it was no use. Your hands were tied above your head.

“Stop!”

You opened your one good eye, finding the baton inches away from your face.

It was Stodt. He entered the dungeon, panic lining his expression. “New orders. The Survey Corps are no longer under persecution. We have a new Queen.”

Menk let the baton fall, and he glanced frantically between your and his comrade.

“Oi, Stodt! What do we do? If they knew we were torturing citizens, it would be to the gallows!”

“Did you spill your blood?” Stodt demanded.

Menk was frantic, his blonde moustache fluttering with his heavy breathing. “I… I did.”

You turned to face Stodt, the fire in his hands illuminating your battered face and swollen eye.

Stodt swore under his breath. “You idiot! I told you not to draw blood! We’re done for… we’re done for…”

There was a loud commotion outside, and the two guards turned to face the door.

Silence. And then��

The door fell apart, a figure barraging into the room and brandishing his swords. She could only see that he was tall and imposing.

Your vision was badly impaired, but you could make out the figure cutting down the two officers. They were soon on the ground, knocked unconscious. But, he didn’t stop. The tall figure stood over them, kicking and grunting as he pummelled them to the ground with the heel of his boots.

Another figure slipped in through the open door, this one shorter than the other.

The tap of his boots on the floor as he walked towards your made your flinch and she closed your eyes.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whimpered.

“I’m not going to,” he said, and unbounded your hands from your head. “My name is Captain Levi Ackerman. I am Jean Kirstein’s commanding officer.”

His face swam in front of you, his piercing grey gaze pinned you to the spot. “Can you stand?”

You tried but couldn’t. Your hands flopped to your sides, aching and numb.

“Oi, Jean! Stop beating them to a pulp. Your woman needs you.”

You heard the other figure swearing as he rushed over to your.

“Y/N!”

You could have cried at the sound of his voice. “Jean,” she whispered, forcing your eyes to open. Your left eye sent pangs of pain through your skull, but you gritted your teeth. You needed to look at him.

His expression was swimming in and out of focus like an illusion in front of you, and you forced your arms to reach for him, despite your muscles protesting like hell; you didn’t know how long they had been bound over your head.

Jean took hold of you and brought your close to his chest.

“Oh, Y/N…” he whispered.

He sounded so broken that you started crying.

“I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Jean,” you sobbed thickly. “I thought… I thought you were… I didn’t give any information to them but they wouldn’t stop.”

He held you tighter.

“We have to go,” Levi urged, standing up.

Jean looked up at the captain and nodded.

A hot flash of pain shot through your body. You cried out when Jean cradled your close to his chest.

“Ssh, I’m sorry. I know it hurts but I have to move you.”

He tucked you close to his chest, letting your face rest in his neck. Your arms were folded across your chest, too tired to wrap around his neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered to you. “I’ve got you.”

Jean stepped out from the cell, careful to not let any part of your brush against the filthy walls. There was a pause where all you could feel was his hard breathing and every jolt of his step on the stone floor. Then, sunlight shone down, blinding your further.

You whimpered and closed your eyes.

Resounding cries and gasps echoed all around you.

“Shit is that—”

“That’s the seamstress!”

“Look! Jean’s got her.”

You let the voices crash in your head, too exhausted to open your eyes.

Your head flopped from your refuge in the crook of Jean’s neck and you heard more gasps before the world was shrouded in darkness.

There was only silence after that.

You heard no more.

“Y/N!’ Jean called out to you as he swam in the small lake in the outskirts of Trost. ���Come on! The water is not that bad.”

You stood at the edge, frozen with apprehension. Marco was doing laps, his tiny legs pushing his body forward, cutting cleanly through the clear lake.

“Y/N,” Jean whined, his auburn hair darkened from the lake’s water. “We don’t have all day to wait for you.”

You wanted to join them. You really did. But, every time you stepped near the water, you were reminded of the slimy dark well and Jean’s voice echoing all around you. At night, when you closed your eyes, you could still feel the penetrating darkness.

“I’m scared!” you cried out. Marco didn’t hear you. He was too far out into the lake. Only Jean was there to bear witness to your cries.

Your best friend made a noise of impatience and swung back to look at Marco. The other boy was happily swimming, oblivious to the drama unfolding behind him.

“Ugh!” Jean tossed his head back and swam to the shore. You watched in apprehension as he swung his legs up to the stone barrier, leaving wet footprints behind him.

He walked towards you, and though he was only ten, he was starting to catch up with your height.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded.

You couldn’t look at him when you said, “I’m thinking about the well.”

There was silence and then…

Jean groaned. “Shit. Marco! Y/N’s scared of the water! We’ve got to change the plan!”

“Whattt?” Marco called from the middle of the lake, cupping his hand around his right ear.

Jean threw his head back and said at the top of his voice: “Y/N IS SCARED OF THE WATER! GET OUT SO WE CAN TAKE HER SOMEPLACE ELSE!”

“OH!” Marco said, finally hearing, waving at them. “I’M COMING!”

He soon swam to shore, and Jean accosted him. “Why did you think it was a good idea to bring… her here when she’s scared of water?”

The other boy gave an impish grin, looking embarrassed. “Ah, Y/N. I’m sorry. I thought it was a good idea back then. What do you want to do instead today? We have until ten tonight!”

You looked shyly at your friends. You were mortified that you were caught making a scene but appreciated that they were willing to do something else for today for the sake of your comfort.

“Can we go to the town? I heard they have a festival tonight and I’ve never been there,” you suggested.

Marco looked at Jean who shrugged.

“The town it is!” the dark-haired boy cried, sealing the deal with a gap-toothed smile. Jean whooped in excitement and pushed Marco, running towards their pile of clothes which they had left in the meadow beyond.

“Last person to reach our clothes needs to buy sweet cream for the rest!”

You were already taking off, leaving Marco behind who indignantly cried out: “HEY!” He raced towards them, yelling at how unfair Jean was.

The trio laughed as they ran towards their end goal, the bright sun above drying the lake water off their backs.

Your eyes fluttered open as you regained consciousness. Your body felt like lead, and your head was still spinning in circles.

A soft groan tumbled from your mouth and you tried to sit up, but couldn’t. It seemed like your mind and body were not connected; stuck on this hard bed.

“Hey, hey. You’re going to sprain yourself if you keep that up,” a scolding voice.

You looked to your right and saw Jean sitting on a bench next to the bed. He was clad in his olive button-down, and his hair was in a disarray. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked distraught.

“Jean,” you whispered, lifting a hand out to him. He took it, and wrapped his long fingers around your palm, bringing it to his chest. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his breath and in a strange way, it soothed you.

“What… what happened?” You seemed like she couldn’t speak. Your voice was slurred and there were bandages around your wrists. Jean ran his finger down the hard material, his mouth set in a tight grimace.

“There was a coup. You were arrested because of your connection to me. The officers who did this are facing death penalties. They will be executed later today. We have a new Queen now. The old King Fritz was a decoy and the true ruling family is the Reiss family.”

You blinked your one eye in shock. “W-What? A coup?”

“Partly a coup,” Jean said, sitting back. “We’re here because Eren Jaeger got injured during the last battle. Some soldiers are healing here, as well.”

“But, we’re safe now,” he continued. “The Survey Corp is no longer persecuted.” Jean’s expression softened and he ran his thumb over your knuckles. “You’re safe now.”

He touched your cheek, brushing his calloused fingers down your jaw. Jean turned and reached for something, bringing a cup of water to your face.

He helped your sit up and brought the cup closer. She steadied his hand with your bandaged ones and drank greedily.

You sighed, feeling slightly more refreshed once the last drop of water was gone from the cup.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded. Your vision was getting better too, and you could see his face more clearly.

Jean’s expression was pinched with worry and there was a bruise on his lower jaw. You reached out to touch it, cupping his face in your palm.

“Who did this to you?”

He cracked a smile, opening his mouth to reply when they were interrupted.

“Ahem.”

Jean let go of your hand and stood up, snapping a quick salute. You noticed a short, dark-haired man flanked by a red-headed young woman. But, what brought your attention was the towering man in between them. Your gaze flitted down to the left side of his body, noticing that he only had one arm.

“At ease,” he rumbled, and Jean stood back.

The tall blonde man strode towards you, his expression neutral but approachable.

“Miss L/N, wasn’t it?”

You cleared your throat. “Y-Yes.”

“My name is Commander Erwin Smith. I lead the Survey Corps regiment. This is Captain Levi and Section Commander Hange Zoë.”

You nodded towards them and they both acknowledged you.

“On behalf of the Survey Corps, we would like to thank you for not revealing our location to the Military Police. And, we would also want to apologize for the harm that you were put through. I cannot imagine how terrifying it must’ve been for you.”

You cast your gaze to Jean who was impassive. “T-thank you, Commander. I did not reveal your location because Jean—I mean, your comrade here didn’t tell me. He did not want to compromise the mission.”

If Erwin was surprised, he didn’t show it. He merely nodded.

“I will see to it that you get the best treatment here and—“

“C-commander, if I may,” you asked, shifting your gaze between the three of them. “There were two more others who were taken with me. A blacksmith and a moonshine seller. They have shops near mine and I am acquainted with them. Were they rescued, too?”

Erwin cast his gaze to Jean, tight-lipped. “I… I am sorry, Miss L/N. We did not manage to save them. When the military police caught wind of our coup’s success, they killed off the two men to prevent them from testifying. They were about to do the same with you but Stodt was passed out drunk when the letter arrived for him so his division was not informed of the… changes.”

The commander gave your a sympathetic look. “I truly am sorry for your loss, Miss L/N.”

Erwin turned on his heel, leaving the room. Levi shot you a look before shifting his gaze to Jean. He followed after Erwin. Hange gave your a small wave which she reluctantly returned back and she was the last to leave, closing the door behind you with a soft thud.

Jean exhaled and returned to his seat next to you.

The revelation shook you to the core. You stared at the wall, starting to tremble.

He noticed and touched your back, whispering, “Hey? Are you okay?”

“I could’ve died,” you mouthed. “I could’ve died.”

A violent shudder and you started sobbing.

Jean stood and brought you into his embrace. You didn’t return it back, not trusting yourself to throw up and ruin his shirt.

The young soldier, for his part, did not tell you it was okay. He didn’t give you false hope that everything will be fine. All he did was hold you through it and keep you anchored in the aftermath.

When you finally calmed down, he loosened his grip around your waist. You wiped your cheeks, laying back down on the bed. He sat down at the edge, looking at you with worry.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked softly.

You did not notice your stomach aching until he mentioned food. You nodded, clearing your throat.

“Yes.”

He stood up, and you could see the anguish in his gaze which he kept under wraps. Jean was holding back his emotions, too.

“I’ll go get some for you.”

Jean shot you an unfathomable look, and exited the room, closing the door behind you.

You assessed your injuries numbly, your mind playing a single loop of words that struck your core:

It could’ve been me. I could’ve been dead now.

Despite it all, she felt guilt. Why did you get to live and those men didn’t? There was no reason.

All you knew was that she was lucky and that if Jean and Levi were even a few minutes late…

You couldn’t bear the thought.

You remembered your mom; the way her eyes would light up in sympathy and how she always knew how to say the right things.

Your eyes started tearing up again and she cried quietly.

There was a part of you that wanted her to hold onto you until the feeling passed. You were still a little girl, missing your mom.

Jean returned with a tray of food and noted your wet eyes. He set the food down and returned to his seat at the edge of your bed, his expression muted with worry.

“Jean?” you whispered, too tired to raise your voice.

“Hmm?”

You looked at him, lower lip trembling. “Could you… could you hold me? For a bit?”

He nodded and settled by your side, pulling you closer to his chest. You breathed him in; the scent of sweat and the slightest hint of a fabric softener.

In his arms, you could pretend you were safe. At least for a while.

“They starved and dehydrated her for two days, Erwin. For two days! They hit her every day all because she has a connection to Jean Kirstein,” Hange hissed. “Then they slaughtered the blacksmith and moonshine seller like they were animals. I tell you when this report reaches Zhalis…”

Erwin sighed, sitting back against the hard wooden chair. “He will hear of this, that’s for sure.”

“Civilians!” Hange threw your hands into the air. “They were butchering civilians!”

Levi watched your rampage with a hand cupping his cheek, resting his elbow against the table.

“At least she’s safe,” he muttered.

Hange stopped and appraised him with wide eyes.

“And that brat wouldn’t look so mopey,” Levi said in a low tone. “It was bad enough that he lost his best friend.”

Erwin tilted his head to one side, a sign that he was thinking deeply. “What is Miss L/N's connection to Jean?”

Hange chuckled, her 180 degrees mood swing not affecting her oldest colleagues in the slightest. “They were best friends. Jean, Miss L/N and Marco Bott. They all grew up in the same district when Mr. Bott moved to Trost.”

The commander tapped his chin. “‘Were’ best friends? And now… they’re lovers?”

Levi sensed Erwin’s disapproval, knowing that what he saw in the hospital room was unmistakable. “You don’t like it.”

Erwin sighed. “I may have been a commander for years but I am also a man. And I know what this thing does to men. Good men.”

Hange was staring at him. Levi was all but still.

“Levi,” Erwin said, gaze locked on his closest comrade and confidant. “Take care of Jean. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. That boy is still young. He may be a good soldier but I believe this is… something he is still inexperienced with.”

Levi’s expression barely changed, but he understood what Erwin was asking of him.

“Keep him focused on the mission. Let him see the bigger picture. But… don’t deprive him. Let him still keep in contact with Miss L/N. However, if things step out of line, remind him of what’s at stake. Our next mission is much too precious to let emotions get in the way.”

The dark-haired man nodded.

“Hange,” Erwin said. “I want you to keep an eye out for Miss L/N. Send one of your men to be with Y/N until that pest of her landlord is gone. She is now a person of interest, thanks to her connection with Jean and how close he is with Eren. I’m assuming whoever did this to her acquaintances would not hesitate to pull this stunt again.”

His other comrade nodded as well.

“That is all,” he said and dismissed them.

Levi and Hange dutifully left the room.

Erwin stood and looked outside the window, noting how peaceful the afternoon was. It would not be like this for long. Once the execution began, it would be hard maintaining peace between all three regiments. But, as a commander, he had faced the worst.

It was all a matter of timing. And right now, was the perfect time to strike.

Jean was awoken by a small tap on his shoulder.

“Jean,” Sasha said, shaking him insistently now. “Go take a bath and eat. I’ll watch over her.”

He groggily looked up at his comrade. He had fallen asleep with his head on the edge of your bed. You were peacefully asleep, face smooth from worries. The ointment that the nurses placed under your swollen eye was slowly yellowing and in a few days, it would be healed. Jean wished it would heal faster.

He hated seeing those marks on your beautiful face.

He stood up, and Sasha took his place next to your side.

“Thanks,” he whispered and his friend nodded.

Jean fully left the room for the first time in two days, stretching his legs and arms overhead. He cracked his neck, mentally making a note to tell you how much he preferred sleeping on your cold floors rather than the uncomfortable hospital bed.

He nearly ran into Armin who was holding some towels in his hand.

“Oh!” the smaller man huffed, looking up at him. “Oh, hey, Jean. Are you getting something to eat?”

He shook his head. “I’m taking a shower. Y/N's asleep now so Sasha took over to watch her.”

Armin nodded. “Hey,” he said and offered his comrade a towel. “I’m in charge of passing new towels in this wing and since you said you needed a shower.”

Jean took it from him, nodding his thanks.

Armin made to walk away, when he stopped, contemplating but eventually deciding he should say what was on his mind. “Everyone’s talking about the both of you.”

He didn’t have to ask who was talking about them. Jean knew it would be his team.

“What are they saying?”

The old him would have cared what his comrades had to say about him. He would be wondering if they accepted him, or were teasing him behind his back. Right now, Jean did not really care, and only humored Armin out of curiosity.

“Well… they said that you’re… different.”

He smirked. “Different?”

“Yeah. More mature. In fact, you’ve been different since Marco passed away. But, now with You… all of us just started noticing it more.”

He pondered Armin’s words. Even you had mentioned that he was different.

Everyone seemed to think he had changed except himself. In some ways, he was still the same coward. He just hid it better now that there was someone in his life who was depending on his bravery and whether he came back home in one piece. That was the only thing different about him.

“Thanks,” Jean said and looked past Armin’s shoulder, at Eren’s room. “How’s the idiot doing?”

Armin lifted his shoulders. “He’s fine. Mikasa has not left his side. Kind of like you and her. But, I guess… that’s what you do when you really care about someone.”

The auburn-haired man froze, Armin’s words unexpectedly hitting him all at once.

“Yeah,” Jean said, and turned around to hide his expression. “I guess that’s what happens.”

“Jean?”

He looked back to Armin.

“It’s a good difference,” was all his friend and comrade said as he turned away, leaving fresh towels on the racks outside the occupied doors.

Jean tried not to smile.

You heard that Marco? He thought to himself. A good difference. I finally grew up, just like you predicted.

He laughed quietly to himself. You were always right, you knuckle-head.

You awoke with a gasp.

Dreams filled with batons and dim cells, the memories rushing through your body like a whip of pain. You reached out frantically to your right, your eyes scanning the darkening room.

“Jean?” you whispered. “Jean?”

The figure on the chair turned around, and it was a young woman she had never seen before.

“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry, Jean is refreshing himself. I promised him I’d look over you while he went off for a bit. Do you need some water?”

You debated and nodded. The young woman took the glass of water by the side of the table and helped your sit up. You took it gratefully and sipped on the cool liquid.

“‘I’m Sasha, by the way. Jean’s comrade from the same squad.”

You smiled at her. “Hi, Sasha. My name is Y/N.”

Sasha fought back a smile but failed, grinning widely. “We know. We’ve been talking about the both of you.”

The other woman seemed confused.

“Oh! In a nice way, of course. We all wondered who was the girl who could take Jean’s attention away from Mikasa. She’s one of our other comrades, by the way. Jean had a crush on her since he started his training. We always thought he would never get over your… well until you came along.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know how to feel, but, she knew that the white-hot press in your chest was obvious. “I see.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sasha said, waving your concern away. “You just took us by surprise. Jean is better with you. To be honest, Mikasa never noticed him and he didn’t stand a chance. She’s really pretty but also kinda standoffish? To him, anyway. I guess that’s his type.”

Pretty and standoffish?

You weren’t exactly two of those qualities.

“Plus, some of us could’ve sworn he wasn't interested in women. But, like, we wouldn’t have minded. Cause he was super close with Marco and his death kind of took a toll on him. But, who would’ve known, huh? He actually had two best friends and let’s be real, who’d want to be friends with him unless they've known him forever? And a best friend who is a girl at that! One look at you and I know why that jerk hadn’t made a move. He obviously didn’t want to lose you, and...”

Sasha rambled on, and you were only half paying attention.

You didn’t take the other woman’s words to heart, though you now had some material now to tease Jean when he came back from his shower.

The door creaked open, stopping Sasha halfway through your barrage of words.

“Hey, Jean! Y/N's awake and I was just telling her all about you.”

Jean stepped into the room, the light from the hallway behind him illuminating his tall and muscular frame.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him. You had forgotten how good he looked and he seemed… more fit than usual. His sleep shirt stretched across his chest, and his pants were slung low over his hips, highlighting the deep V dragging down his torso.

It’s been too long since yuo last saw him.

“What did you tell your about me that she doesn’t already know?” he teased.

“I told her all about Mikasa and—”

At the other girl’s name, Jean panicked and said, “Mikasa, who?”

“Mikasa, you idiot. Your comrade and the girl you’ve been crushing on—”

“Erm, I think I hear Connie calling for you down the hallway,” Jean said and gestured towards the outside. “You might wanna check it out, it may be something important.”

Sasha sprang up to your feet. “He must’ve found that meat stash I told him I could smell. Ooooh. Goodnight!”

In the blink of an eye, Sasha disappeared out of the bedroom, leaving the both of them alone once more.

You relaxed against the bed.

“Hi,” Jean said as he walked over to you, closing the door behind him. You scooted over and patted the empty space.

Jean hesitated. “Are you still in pain?”

You smiled at him and shook your head. “I’m fine. You look tired and I’m sure that bench is not the most comfortable place in the world.”

He laughed softly. “True. I prefer your floors.” He sat down next to you, on the edge of the bed. They were like the river current and the shore, unable to stay distant for too long before they caved in and wanted to hold each other.

Jean wrapped his arms around you, and you nuzzled into his side, breathing in the scent of his freshly bathed skin.

“How’re you feeling?”

You knew he was talking about your breakdown from this morning.

“I’m fine,” you said quietly. “I just… needed to let it out. It was killing me.”

“It’s called survivor's guilt,” he mumbled. “It happens to soldiers all the time.”

You looked at him, aghast. “H-how do you cope?”

Jean gave your a grim look. “You have to focus on the big picture. Know that their sacrifice was not in vain.”

“I… can’t imagine…” you broke off, trying not to tear up again. “Dying all alone. Without your loved ones next to you.”

Jean took in a shuddering breath. “I wouldn’t let that happen to you. Not on my watch.”

You nodded, curling yourself closer to him.

The hospital was dark and quiet, and there was no sign of life beyond their own breathing. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine that Jean and you were stuck in a city in the middle of nowhere, basking in each other's presence, tucked away from the harsh realities of this world.

“Y/N?”

You stared up at him. In the dark, you could feel his eyes on you. The shape of his lips was molded into a hard frown, illuminated by the light coming from the crack under their door.

“Can you answer me?”

Your brow furrowed. “Answer you on what, Jean?”

“My question. From the first night.”

Your breath stuttered to a stop and there was a painful beat of silence. Of course, you remembered that question he asked you. Sometimes, it kept your up at night.

Jean broached the subject again with bated breath. “W-what am I to you?”

You touched his face, and this time, you were not afraid. You knew what the answer was deep in your soul.

“You… mean a lot to me.”

Even in the dark, you could sense his hazel eyes melting, his hard frown turning into a soft smile.

“Thank goodness,” he breathed.

You couldn’t resist laughing softly. “Are you relieved?”

Jean didn’t reply, preferring to bend his head low and kiss you softly on your open mouth.

You closed your eyes, feeling your heart swell to twice its size. The truth was out there for the both of them to revel in. It felt like a heavyweight was lifted off your shoulders and you kissed him back jubilantly.

“I didn’t know if I ever had the chance to tell you this,” you admitted when he broke the kiss.

His soft chuckle brushed your lips. He was so close and yet you needed him closer.

He kissed the underside of your right ear, right where his mark used to be. It had faded over the weeks, and you kind of missed it—you missed having a constant reminder that Jean had left his claim on your body.

“I’m glad we got to meet even if it’s like this,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, fighting off the huge grin on your face.

Jean brushed his fingers over the bruise under your right eye.

“And that those officers are paying for what they did.”

You fell quiet.

“I… Y/N, when I saw you yesterday, I didn’t know what to do,” he admitted.

You shuddered, and lifted your head, finding his lips again. You kissed him soundly and he responded back, although he was slightly more hesitant.

Pulling away from him, you were breathing hard. “I don’t want to remember it. Not right now.”

Jean nodded. He understood the need to put on a semblance of normalcy after a traumatic incident. He knew it well.

You decided to change the subject to something less heavy, even if your heart was still singing with happiness. “So… who’s the new Queen now?”

He smothered back a snort. “You wouldn’t believe it.”

“Huh?”

“I used to train with her.”

You were intrigued now. “Wait, what?”

“It’s Historia Reiss. Formally known as Christa Lenz from the 104th trainee corps. We used to spar together.”

You gaped at him. “I’m sorry, what? That’s… that’s incredible.”

He sighed, resting his head on yours. “Tell me about it. She’s being crowned in a few days. We’re invited to the ceremony.”

“We?”

“My squad and I,” he said and hesitated. “I could ask them… if it’s possible to bring a plus one.”

You blushed and buried your face in his chest. “You don’t have to,” you muttered, but it came out all muffled.

“I want to,” he murmured. “I want them to know that I am happily taken.”

You lifted your head, not sure if she heard right. “Taken?”

“That I’m with you,” he said sincerely. “And you’re with me.”

You didn’t press him for further clarification.

Jean may be a pragmatic person, but he was shy when it came to admitting his feelings.

For you, this gesture was enough.

“I would love to,” you smiled.

Jean’s grin was wide, and he huffed a laugh. “Thanks. I was about to die if you said ‘no’.”

You chuckled and teased him back, “Such a romantic.”

“Only for you, my love.”

You slipped your eyes closed. You had never felt this kind of happiness before in your life. All you knew now was that you were as important to Jean as he was to you. It brought you a sense of peace and giddy happiness.

You had not felt this type of happiness before, and as you snuggled next to your lover and best friend, you felt like it was the most potent of emotions.

A part of you wished that his emotion would never come to an end.

Christa—no Historia, tilted her head to the side as she considered Erwin’s words.

“Won’t it look bad if I have a coronation celebration while the whole world is… in this state?”

The commander pondered your words and shook his head. “It would help raise spirits. Show some sense of normalcy.”

The squad were having their dinner when Erwin called them in for an urgent meeting. Eren shot Mikasa and Armin a look, while Connie, him, and Sasha shared a worried glance. They usually never met with Erwin in a close encounter unless it was an emergency.

Jean hung at the back of the room, expression neutral as he listened into the rounds of discussion. He wasn’t overly concerned about the upcoming celebrations. It didn’t exactly concern him whether this stupid big party was approved by the higher-ups.

“We want to show your enemies that you have the people’s support.”

“Commander, if I may,” Eren started.

Jean could sense that Eren was losing his patience.

“It’s not up for debate,” Erwin shut him down before he could proceed.

Queen Historia looked around the room and pursed your lips. Eventually, she nodded.

“Alright. It seems like the matter has been decided. Let’s have a party,” she said, announcing it with the fervor of someone making a funeral announcement.

dear jean taglist: @sparklekitteh @fairybnha3 @tacobellfreshavocado @usernamehere91 @slytherwin @bealiz13 @wasurenagusaa @naoyasbinch @maymarina @themadnessunderneath @weyheyavengers

aot taglist: @starryenigma @gojojang @cottonheadedninnymugggins @maliceinborderland

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy and repost

[ofainur]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ     ꒰🌸꒱ ruinë ៸៸ 

❀ ˙ ˖ “ stay with me, doll. I won't let you down again ’

·⊰ kin: maia, of manwë

·⊰ epithets: ruivë ( q ): "wildfire" ( a nickname given her after the war of wrath, in which it is stated that her fire reigned supreme ). naraiwë ( q ): "fire bird" ( as spotted by the elves, she takes on the form of a phoenix and is thus dubbed such a name )

·⊰ sex: female 

·⊰ hair colour: black

·⊰ eye colour: magenta 

·⊰ mbti: istj 

·⊰ face claims: ( x ) ( x ) ( x ) ( x ) ( x )

·⊰ about:  the maia of fire and formerly the maia of melkor, ruinë is the silent, observant type. for the most part, that is. she has a bit of a temper that she's definitely worked on over the years but she can get rather explosive when it's left unchecked. she is quite pale, moreso than most. this is contrasted by her dark hair that is medium length and curls around her jaw, with that being said, it is a bit curly overall. her eyes are magenta ( which is the same colour as her fire ) and her pupils sometimes constrict into slits. she often dresses in monochromatic colours yet sometimes switches this up with deep shades of red or purple. she is known to wear sarees, or at times, other free-flowing robes. her lips are typically a deep shade of red and she often couples this with dark mascara and eyeliner. her ears are pierced at numerous intervals, mostly her helixes of which she wears black or silver jewellery. she also adorns bangles on her wrists extending from her hands are often long and sharp black or deep red nails. from her neck extends three black peacock feathers that just poke out from the back of her head. at times, she also extends a long, black-feathered peacock tail as well. 

she's considered frighteningly intelligent and is known by many to be cunning when it comes down to it. she seems cold, closed off and painfully sarcastic. almost an: "I hate everyone personality" ( which isn't true ). at the onset of ruinë's creation, eru had already put a wedge in any sort of a normal existence for her. originally, ruinë was meant to be two beings: one inherently good and the other inherently evil. however, he decides against this. as such, ruinë was not "split" and thus is technically two beings in one. due to this, everything that she does is her nature. be it good or bad. she is both good and evil — but eru has determined her path to be that of a villain. she fights throughout her entire life to defy this path. she has an unquenchable desire to be good. alas, her actions are very contradictory and almost self-sabotaging. she'll always mess something up and give into one of her dark desires. but that does not mean that she hasn't done noble deeds, in fact, she has succeeded done multiple. however, she seems to only focus on the bad aspects. deep down, the maia is a pretty shattered and insecure individual. one of her main insecurities is that she is never "the first choice" among the ones she loves or admires ( be this romantically, platonically, familial or so on and so forth ) which can leave her to be rather envious in some situations. she acts the way she does because she does not want anyone to see that vulnerable side of her. when it comes down to it, she is a tempered and sarcastic individual who might even come off as mean in some settings — and simply indifferent in others.

as a fire maia, it is said that her specific powerset is beyond unstable, which leaves her almost hesitant to use her abilities despite the nagging voice at the back of her mind. from the start, ruinë has had thoughts and ideals that others would deem irrational, and not apart of the creator's plan.she grows to admire melkor who speaks his mind and shares his ideals. she chooses to serve him, because she felt as though he allowed her to grow and reach her ambitions. yet after melkor finally turns, ruinë doesn't follow after his defect and instead chooses to serve manwë. but she feels something missing, as though she isn't using her full potential. it is those very thoughts that allow melkor to worm his way in and ease out that more villainous side to her. to make her believe that she is wasting her potential. at first, ruinë tries not to listen, but she slips. initially, she becomes a spy, before she officially leaves and joins utumno's ranks as their strategist. her horrors reign supreme as she embraces the darker side to her. as stated previously, ruinë's fire is especially dangerous when kept unchecked. melkor is well aware of how powerful she is and wishes to harness that power into his newest creations: dragons. all with the fire that ruinë helps melkor replicate. she is not only a strategist but an inventor / scientist under his ranks.

eventually, her dear friend, erulissë drags her back to valinor, where ruinë faces judgement and spends her time in mandos after her trial where she is explicitly unremorseful and mocks the ainur closest to her. her redemption thankfully comes after she is made to walk through the ''halls of fate'' in which an individual sees the consequences of their actions, glimpses of both the past and future. horrified by what her decisions have caused, she pleads guilty during her next trial and it is then that she is determined as redeemed. despite this, she feels immense guilt, especially since those that were once close to her now turn the blind eye. the looming thought of the dragon project also leaves her with sleepless nights even after she has joined the ranks of manwë's maiar once more. so much so that at her first opportunity, she goes to middle-earth in an attempt to confront him on the project. while melkor expected one of his prodigies to have returned, he is beyond rageful to learn that it is not the case. it's uncertain of what occurred after, as she woke up in lorien with news that shook her to her core. ( please look at trivia, as this news most might find uncomfortable. ) ruinë has her true moment of redemption when she serves as a captain of the host of valinor during the war of wrath where she faces some of the dragons. however, this lands her with war trauma by the end of it all and at times she finds herself spiralling into panic attacks due to the sight of her own fire. ultimately, she continues to struggle with this internal conflict of good vs evil, yet is trying her damn hardest to remain the hero. this is why she comes off as rather closed-off or even a bit mean at times. 

with a lover, it would take some time to get her softer side out of her but that doesn't mean she would care any less should you happen to catch her eye. in the beginning she would be closed off due to the fact that she is not necessarily the best with emotions — but once she accepts her feelings for you, things will definitely seem smoother. she has a surprisingly nurturing nature and is both concerned for your well-being and protective of you in more ways than one. she can be quite teasing and not to mention: shameless. this is expressed through her nicknames for you, such as ''doll", along with her actions. she tends to be more physically affectionate as her verbal affection has no filter / is quite blunt and at times she feels as though it may throw you off. ruinë really does require a person who will be equally as nurturing as she tends to have a habit of overworking herself. on those nights she often requires a little bit of coaxing to leave her lab in valinor ( as science and invention is still her passion ) but once she does, she's all over you in a matter of minutes. adores letting you rest on her while she strokes your hair but will not be opposed to switching positions and letting you pet her feathers. it is advised to be a bit patient with her as she is still coming to terms with the fact that somebody ( you ) actually loves her despite everything that she has done and what she is.

·⊰ strengths: 

❀ ˙ ˖ pyrokinesis — she has a fairly exceptional hold over the element of fire. however as stated it can go out of control should she lose herself on an emotional standpoint, typically to anger

❀ ˙ ˖ intellect — she is beyond intelligent, almost frighteningly so. she has an inventive and scientific talent, especially when it comes to alchemy and chemistry 

❀ ˙ ˖ combat — she is especially skilled in combat and has fought in numerous battles and wars, she is particularly skilled with a sword

❀ ˙ ˖ avian traits — as an avian ainu, she does have a few avian traits such as the heightened senses and flight

·⊰ weaknesses: 

❀ ˙ ˖ water — not only can she not swim, water genuinely weakens her because it is the direct opposite to her element 

❀ ˙ ˖ ptsd — from her war trauma ( which renders her panicked whenever she hears exceptionally loud noises ) to the sight of her own fire, she can go into a state of shock and have panic attacks

❀ ˙ ˖ immorality — her darker side truly is a thorn in her side that she cannot control nor dispel, it takes a great amount of effort to keep this side at bay, it is a constant fight of two beings within her

·⊰ trivia 

❀ ˙ ˖ her name means "flame'' in quenya

❀ ˙ ˖ she a combative maia and served as manwë's admiral on various occasions

❀ ˙ ˖ she still conducts research and experiments yet not to an evil extent 

❀ ˙ ˖ she has a fondness for cats 

❀ ˙ ˖ she takes on the form of a phoenix during war of wrath 

❀ ˙ ˖ she is particularly close to námo and manwë, however, her and erulissë no longer get along 

❀ ˙ ˖ tw: dark themes ahead, implied forced pregnancy. please read with caution, no graphic descriptions, only brief summary:

after ruinë wakes up in lorien, the news that she hears is that she is pregnant. she has no knowledge of what occurred, only that she was 'seduced' by melkor. to this day she cannot remember and is unaware of the events of that day. manwë offers to take care of the child instead and so, raises the baby as his own son.

[kodzumie-archived]

Hello! I love your writing so much! I have searched a long time, but barely see any female dom readers x male characters anywhere. Whether the reader is nsfw dom or the dom in the relationship. Can I request Kokichi & Nagito x dom female reader? Nsfw is preferred but you can choose if it is or not.

❝AMONGST YOUR REIGN❞

Synopsis; What they’re like as the submissive one with a dominant partner.

Featuring; Kokichi Oma and Nagito Komaeda x Fem! Reader

Warning(s); (N)SFW, established relationship, dominant reader, submissive characters, bratty sub (Kokichi), public sex, slight degradation, mutual humiliation, edging, handjob, blowjob, and slight body worship.

Kodzumie’s Note; Thank you so much! I’d be more than happy to write submissive characters! They’re my favorite concept! Though I feel as though I faltered during Nagito’s part and the end of Kokichi’s, so perhaps one day I’ll rewrite this. But I hope you’ve had an incredible day! Muah! <3

➤ KOKICHI OMA

⤷ Upon a singular inspection, many would surmise Kokichi to be the one retaining control within your relationship, the seclusion of your shared bedroom being no exception to this as well.

⤷ His boisterous jests and devious antics conducting bystanders to believed he possesses a domineering persona in contrast to you; the equable follower. After all, he is the Ultimate Supreme Leader, it’s a common contemplation of his yearning for power over others; to withhold control.

⤷ Yet, comically so, such generic presumptions couldn’t be farther from the truth. Even as the infamous, violet-eyed deviant composed fallacies through the ruby-dyed tip tongue of deceit, he was all too aware of the glare trained upon the back of his head; casually veiled irritation within the sheen of your hues.

⤷ Kokichi—ever the instigator—pressed on; meddling upon your buttons, carelessly. His unsuspecting and frankly disturbing audience—Shuichi—far too unaware of your strained visage.

⤷ Your boyfriend chuckled, flinging his arm around your shoulders as he reels you in. A line connected to a hook, waving forth with such mindless temptation.

⤷ He smirks with every tantalizing word as he professes; you’re ever-so riddled in desperation for him, claiming your relentless begging. All the while Shuichi tugs at his collar, avoiding meeting your eyes as his pale complexion rosettes with discomfort. An equal dosage of such coursing through you as you begin to clench your teeth.

⤷ You’re painfully aware of the provocative smirk lacing his lips from the corner of your eye. He knows what he’s doing; the willingness to utter such intimate information that, nonetheless, was nothing more than mere fabrications. He’s got his eyes trained upon his goal, striving forth to attain such.

⤷ And as he leaned forward towards Shuichi, mischief glimmering within his eyes, he questions. “Wouldn’t you agree, Shuichi?” The final straw plucked as the hook that swayed was seized; you finally caved, taking the bait.

⤷ Straightening your composure, you meet Shuichi’s eyes as an apologetic gleam brushed upon your hues. Sighing, you apologize for your boyfriend’s unruly antics, excusing the two of you from the clearly uncomfortable noirette.

⤷ For a moment, Kokichi hadn’t stood up to trail behind you. He waited a moment, and it was just enough for you to crane your head towards him with a countenance that induced poignant shudders to wrack through his spine. Your lips are sewn into a fine line as your gaze narrowed at your defiant boyfriend, stipulation painted upon the canvas of your features.

⤷ He was fully knowledgeable of what was to come, especially with a glare akin to the emphasis of control directed at him. Thus, he leaped onto his feet and towed behind you; avidity engulfing the encompass of his thoughts.

⤷ After a mere two right turns followed by a left, the two of you stand before a public restroom, one in which you entered without a moment to peer back. You were agitated, that much he knew. Yet he couldn’t help the bubbling of arousal as he hurried to enter the confinements of the room.

⤷ Upon entering, Kokichi’s quick to find his back forced against the door, successfully shutting it as your left hand fiddled with the lock; a click resonating within the restroom.

⤷ You loomed; your right leg poised between his as you shift your weight against him, trapping him against the door. He gulped at the tension; the mere centimeters of your dangerously nearing knee to his straining erection.

⤷ Though he wasn’t able to dwell on the adrenaline of the anticipated friction as your fingers clamp beneath his chin, directing his gaze to interlock with yours; a cold fury within your eyes.

⤷ He knew he should’ve treaded within steady waters, tentatively backtracking under the subjection of your piercing irritation. But—a cluster of faulty decisions—he figured that’d be far too boring for his tastes. He pranced along the edge, a singular seam attaching him to the grapples of restraint.

⤷ Jabbing upon the last of your dwindling patience, he wanted to push you past no return. To unleash you innermost ascendancy, and inevitably subdue him to your beck and call. With each stab at your withering compliance, he strived for you to take over; to reduce him to mere whines upon the ripples of pleasure.

⤷ Leaning forward, his lips hovered above your own as he met your eyes. “Awh, are you mad at me?” He taunted; a sing-song timbre plaguing his gibes. Breath fanning against your cheeks, his pallid complexion flushing at the proximity.

⤷ Though he wasn’t allowed another moment of retaliation as you raised your knee, rubbing against his clothed dick, earning you a gasp from the male. Reeling his head back, he shifted his weight to lean against the door as makeshift support. His breathing suddenly the slightest bit ragged as his cheeks flourished with piqued arousal.

⤷ Much to his dismay, you don’t repeat the raise of your knee. Instead returning your foot to the ground, and your knee departs from where his carnal desire had needed you most. But he wanted to hold out for a bit longer.

⤷ As quick as his smirk had vanished, the sinister smile returned to his lips as he exhaled, playfully sneering. “Oh? Did you expect me to say something?” His half-lidded eyes a pair of violet-hued, pools of rousing.

⤷ Cocking his head to the side, he snickers upon your furrowed brows and agitation-induced twitching of your fingers; itching to be wrapped around his throat to constrict his taunts.

⤷ It was exhilarating. The sultry anticipation in which he indulged himself in at the lucid sensation of his imaginative fever dream; he could practically feel you pushing him to the edge over and over and over. He craved to be under your reign, to unravel endlessly under your blissful grazes.

⤷ And it seemed as though his innermost covets would eventuate as your hand redirected itself from clutching his chin to entangling itself within his locks, forcibly reeling his head towards your face as you engulf his lips within yours.

⤷ The sudden movement eliciting a swallowed gasp from the violet-eyed deviant. His moans melting in the encompass of your mouth as your tongue protruded within his; pressing and intertwining amongst ragged pants.

⤷ The kiss was rough; one lapping needily whilst the other nibbled in vexation. Kokichi’s mewls are drawn-out sporadically as you mildly clamp your teeth atop his bottom lip, tugging at the skin before sucking; inducing a choked gasp to escape from the rumbling of his throat, each moan a crescendo of swallowed desperation.

⤷ As you pulled away, a string of saliva remained intact for a moment longer; connecting you two even as you part. Though it soon dissipated, it’s remanence upon Kokichi’s chin as his tongue emerged from between his glistening lips; glimmering in the traces of your saliva, claiming him.

⤷ His brows furrowed as his cheeks were doused in rose, a searing flush of desire flashing upon his complexion in which darkens up the latching of your lips to the base of his jaw. A stuttered whine falling from his mouth, your hand within his hair tilting his head farther to provide you more access.

⤷ Every suck lapped by the grazing of your teeth inducing breathless cries from your boyfriend. The sensitive skin of his neck peppered in your lovebites as you traveled further, fingers unraveling from his disheveled hair to unbutton his top.

⤷ Your grip was tight; aggressive. With each button untied, you hazardously popped the front open and delved upon the newfound skin, exploring with every lick and bite. All the while your boyfriend struggled to maintain his composure, drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he squirmed, restlessly.

⤷ Choked moans interlaced with husky pleas echoed within the bathroom as your thumb rolled over his right nipple, whilst you took his left within the moist cavern of your mouth, flicking the hardened bud with your—flattened—tongue.

⤷ Upon the humidity and the lingering trail of saliva atop his left nipple, Kokichi arched his back, furthering himself within your mouth as he yelped. Meeting your eyes in haste, he noticed your derision-laced visage as you rolled the bud between your teeth.

⤷ There was a particular shading overlaying your eyes, providing you the daunting emphasis of sovereignty.

⤷ Popping your lips off of his nipple, the moisture reeling the chill of the restroom as Kokichi shuddered, exhaling shakily upon your departure. Adrenaline coursing through his blood as he eagerly piqued at his predicament.

⤷ “You sure had a lot to say before,” You began, pinching his right nipple, tearing a yelp from his lips as your boyfriend rutted his hips, attempting to garner some form of friction against his aching cock. “But look at you now.”

⤷ A hushed laugh escapes from your lips, a satire smirk lining your visage as you finally raised your knee once more, providing your boyfriend with the stimulation he yearned for. “You look so pathetic, can’t even speak from how desperate you are.”

⤷ Before he could even retaliate to your claims, proving that he was still fully capable of uttering coherent sentences, his words were morphed into wanton moans as you began moderately rubbing your thigh against him; identifying the outline of his erection against your leg.

⤷ His mind fogged with the mist of lasciviousness as he paced his thrusting hips to synchronize with the bouncing of your leg. He attempted to withhold his equanimity, yet the fog of carnality thickened and blurred the urges of retaliation.

⤷ Instead, his mind strayed farther; to the pit of his stomach in which the bubbling of his arousal had began to brew. The pleasure soon overwhelming as your lips reattach to the crook of his throat, engulfing a patch of skin between your teeth as you rolled it, gently.

⤷ He squirmed; riddling himself in ripples of orgasmic relief as he began ceaselessly hump your thigh, desperation mauling at the bindings of his self-restraint as he chased his high.

⤷ But you wouldn’t allow him such alleviation. Tearing away your knee, you revel in the contortion of his countenance. His brows stitched together in despondency upon your departure and the loss of poignant rubbing. Gloss brimming his eyes as sobs of mindless pleading wracked through him; disarray of the devious prankster he was known to be.

⤷ Though you wouldn’t cave into his weeping fit, rather, you chuckle at the sight of his helplessness. Whatever traces of defiance he’d once flaunted in hopes of tempting had been long abandoned, leaving him behind as a muddled mess of tears and feverish pants.

⤷ His shirt barely hanging by the conjunction of his elbow and forearms as his shoulders and chest remain exposed to the draft. His skin speckled in bite marks and lovebites; the markings of yours truly.

⤷ Chest rising and falling in rouse-tainted ventilation, Kokichi wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling his body to be pressed against yours. He yearned to be closer; to be ever-so near to you and bask within your heat. Yet as sensual as his actions may have presented themself to be, you could feel it; you could feel him.

⤷ His painfully erect and depriving cock straining against his pants, nuzzling against your thigh. It was evident within his lilac hues that he was attempting to conserve his compulsion, biting back the urge to grind against the limb, focusing on your lidded gaze instead.

⤷ The sight of his attempted restraint―his inner-conflict and suppression of libidinous instinct―was ever-so pleasing; so very enticing.

⤷ It enthralled you to witness him vigorously attempt to abide by your demands, subduing to your biddings regardless of his ever-more painful erection against the bindings of the double layers; his boxers and pants. He’d given in, willing himself to comply with all that you command in order for you to bring him to bliss. He’d be good for you.

⤷ Thus, your hand had trailed itself down the dips of his sides. With each rub at his plush skin, you neared the hem of his pants. The realization painting the canvas of Kokichi’s expression with anticipation as you hooked your index and middle finger within the fabric, tugging it downwards.

⤷ A gasp fogging the tense air as the cool draft wafted against his bare shaft; exposing his precum-stained tip which leaked with droplets of compelling lust. The crown of his dick roseate―flushed with hues of temptation―and with the imploration of being relieved; in which you decided to provide for him.

⤷ Prodding your thumb against his dampened slit, you massage the leakage of precum around the swell of his tip. He jolts at the sensation, stuttering a moan as he rocks his hips against your touch, attempting to acquire more touch; more friction. Though he soon halts his movements at your piercing glare. “You take what I give you, or you won’t get anything at all.”

⤷ He gulps, nodding at your words as his breathing remained ragged. But his nod wasn’t enough for you, you wanted to hear him succumb to you. “Use your words, ‘Kichi.” You hum, nibbling the shell of his ear as you begin to pump his length.

⤷ His gasps resonate within the confinement of the bathroom as he bites back his moans, albeit poorly. He nods his head to the rhythm of your fisting, attempting to string together a proper sentence whilst savoring the feeling of your hand ever-so-slightly clenching around his cock; using his own pre-cum as lubricant.

⤷ “Yes, yes, yes, yes―fuck!” A mantra of pleas slipping past his lips as he involuntarily bucks his hips against your fist. His eyes widening at his fault as he rapidly whirls his head up to meet your eyes in which darkened with an authority that blossomed ripples of warmth within his chest.

⤷ He awaited your reprimanding; your stabs of denial at his sporadic strive for stimulation. Yet you simply quickened the pace of your fist, feverishly rubbing him, swiping your thumb and prodding upon his vein; to which he’d let out a rather prominent moan.

⤷ Stars flickering within his vision as you went faster and faster, your ministrations increasingly rugged. The familiar sensation of his oncoming arousal pooled within his gut; awaiting to boil over and engulf him into a realm of orgasmic relief.

⤷ Yet he’d felt an inkling of dread at the thought of you pulling away once more, building the buddings of his climax only to pull away at its brimming. He could feel the overwhelming sensation of his orgasm steadily approaching, and thus, he swallowed whatever remnants of his pride were left.

⤷ A gleam of tears gloss his violet orbs as he interlocks with your gaze, his lips noticeably quivering at the intense pleasure he’s receiving. “Please!” He sobs, shaking his head ever-so-slightly.

⤷ With a tenacious smirk, you tilt your head in feign of faux perplex. “Hm? Please, what?” The smug timbre of your voice would’ve irritated Kokichi to no bounds if he wasn’t so desperate for the satisfaction of his orgasm. His arms tightening around the grip he’d had around your neck, he pulls you closer, nuzzling into your shoulder.

⤷ “Please let me cum, please! I’ll do anything. I promise I’ll be good, please!” His shameless begging eliciting a visage of surprise, yet it aroused you all-the-same.

⤷ Tightening your grip around his cock ever-so-slightly, you glide your fist faster than you’d previously gone, pacing to milk him of his orgasm; to stain his tip and your fist in thick ropes of his release.

⤷ His breathing instantaneously dissolved into an arrhythmic mantra of whines in which steadily reached a crescendo; biting into your shoulder to muffle his cries as he neared closer and closer.

⤷ Upon your palm rubbing against the underside of his dick, tracing over his ever-so sensitive vein, Kokichi’s long awaited orgasm washing over him with a tidal wave of shock and jolts throughout his limbs. His heated seed spilling over and coating your hand in his cum; to which you smeared across his length as you eased him through his high, pumping him slowly.

⤷ After a minute or two, he manages to regulate his breathing. Although his heart continued hammering within his chest as a lust-drunken giggle escaped his lips.

⤷ His weight shifting against you as his body nearly topples in exhaustion, his eyes steadily drooping as he nuzzled closer into your warmth. Your arms envelop him within an embrace as you press a fleeting kiss against the tip of his ear.

⤷ Assisting him to the sink, you situate your boyfriend atop the counter. His visage fogged with oncoming somber as the prolonged orgasm had withdrawn multitudes of energy from him.

⤷ You’d reached over and grabbed the towels from the dispenser, cleaning up the mess tainting Kokichi’s skin, careful not to elicit any more stimulation upon him; having already been drained. He appeared so fragile; delicate upon the mere brush of your fingers as he mewled between mellow breaths. 

⤷ After having finished cleaning him and washing your hands, you sling an arm over his shoulder, reeling him within the warmth of your side as you embrace him. Your lips find the surface of his temple as you place a fleeting kiss on the delicate skin, Kokichi nuzzling closer to you in an affectionate response.

⤷ The aftermath of you domineering demeanor spurring a flurry within your boyfriend’s heart in remembrance of your previous actions and his jabs that’d insinuated your sovereignty; such a thing that one would not typically surmise of you. Yet it was a truth—your shared veracity—as the two of you saunter along.

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ Much to be expected of him—bountiful jabs at his self-worth by his own loathe-laced tongue—he views himself as unworthy of your ministrations; paving to suffice his needs and mellow him to a mere clutter of breathless whines and pleas.

⤷ You were a figure culminated of divinities; his beloved angel. And thus, he couldn’t find it within himself to possibly allow someone of such sovereignty to lay a finger upon filth such as himself.

⤷ It wasn’t as though he was particularly against the deed itself; far from it. What he wouldn’t give to be blessed by the sensation of such blissful brushes from your touch upon his skin. Truthfully, he’d catch himself fantasizing of what your body would feel pressing against his; bare, exposed to one another.

⤷ But following after such thoughts would be the perpetual venom of his innermost guilt. A suffocating fog of shame for tainting your sanctity within the encompass of his mind. He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t even deserve to think of you.

⤷ He’d restricted himself of his covetousness, swallowing back his sinful yearnings in accordance to his self-loathing. He’d assumed that wishing for the impossible was a hope riddled with the plaguing of despair; the inevitable cracking of his heart inbound.

⤷ So he was deduced to beyond that of a lifetime’s worth of appall when you’d first mentioned engaging in such ludicrous deeds with him, of everyone that were far more worthy. And yet, once the two of you had gone through with it; tainting yourselves in the avarice of lust, Nagito had felt the slightest bit more reassured.

⤷ But, of course, he remained unwilled to initiate such intimacy, regardless of the overwhelming tides of desire that’d engulfed his mind, straining his pants.

⤷ Even as his complexion flushed rosebuds of wishful yearning, he swallowed back any attempt to voice his arousal. He continuously believed he didn’t deserve to ask for so much. He should be satisfied with what you give, and grateful that you’d initiate anything, to begin with.

⤷ And yet, he couldn’t help but squirm as he laid beside you atop the mattress of your shared bedroom; your body sprawled beside him, albeit unaware of his ever-straining issue beneath the covers.

⤷ Although he hadn’t uttered a word of his piqued rousing, you’d noticed his restlessness as he readjusted his position for approximately the twelfth time within the past three minutes. And, with a flicker of your eyes directed South, you’d caught a glimpse of the root of his shifting from beneath the layering of the blanket.

⤷ Turning onto your side to face your boyfriend, you clear the tense silence with a supposedly innocent inquiry, “Are you alright?” Though you didn’t need to ask, you’d already been aware of the answer.

⤷ Nagito seemed startled by your question, reluctantly meeting your eyes with the faintest tint of roseate upon his cheeks. He nodded his head; refusing to speak due to a distrust of the stability within his voice. With each passing moment, his erection becoming increasingly distracting and uncomfortable.

⤷ You blink at his response, visage painting your dissatisfaction. Although you decided not to give for an answer you were never going to receive.

⤷ Instead, you arose from your position, slinging your leg over his hips as you straddle him. His eyes widen immensely as he nervously waves his hands in defiance. “You... You shouldn’t do that!” He attempted to argue, but it was already too late.

⤷ He was aware you could feel his bulge pressing against your ass from beneath the blanket, the layer of fabric unable to secure his dignity as he avoiding your gaze, hiding behind his hands in which were covering his flustered countenance.

⤷ You had to have been disgusted by him. Without your permission to feel such, he’d succumbed to his greed. What could he possibly say? Cornered within the encapsulation of shame, he falls into the abyss of self-loathing once more; thought upon thought of his foolishness.

⤷ And yet he was snapped out of such a state of mind when you’d delicately tugged at his wrists, revealing his face to you. Unlike the disgust he’d expected to be awaiting him, he was met with your expression of sincere, sympathetic amusement.

⤷ “Nagito, it’s okay.” You whispered. Rubbing circles over his knuckles with your thumb, you pressed gentle kisses atop the plush skin. He’s taken aback by the delicacy of your actions; in which he deems himself undeserving of. Yet you maintain your smile as your kisses begin to trail down his forearm.

⤷ As he lays beneath you, his eyes gleam in awe as you pepper his skin in pecks of delicate devotion. From his arm to the conjunction of his throat and shoulders, you trail a path of kisses that each ignite combustion of flames upon his skin.

⤷ He’s unaware of whether he should put a pause to your ministrations, or to accept your affections; subduing to the greed that seems to swallow him in his entirety.

⤷ Each kiss you pressed against his skin proceeding to melt his reluctance. Easing him into the moment as he savored the sensation of your humid mouth lapping at his skin, nearing the uncomfortable strain in which protrudes further; the romance budding within each of your movements admittedly arousing for the male.

⤷ Though his breath hitched as you began to gradually tug his pants, relieving his erection of the confinements within the fabric. His heart thumping within his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins, inducing a ragged groan as you continued to kiss down his body; against his v-line.

⤷ It was as though you’d strived to have your lips explore every dip of his body; familiarizing yourself with the figure of your lover, entirely. 

⤷ At long last, your lips brush upon the base of his cock, tentatively parting your lips to suckle gently upon the skin as Nagito instinctually throws his head back against the pillows; all the while, chanting mindlessly, internally, that trash like him didn’t deserve such an overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation.

⤷ You tread up his length, guiding your tongue along the underside of his cock. Your ministrations gradual, indulging in every moment as you coat him in your saliva; a makeshift lubricant.

⤷ With each slowed lick and suckle, Nagito finds himself steering towards a steady rising of his relief. His heart fluttering within the confines of his ribs as he savors every second; his belief that he was undeserving of such pleasure fueling his rise to climax.

⤷ Finally, your lips situate themselves upon the crown of his erection. Hollowing your cheeks, you collect a puddle of saliva within your mouth, steadily spilling it onto his tip.

⤷ Nagito shuddered at the ever-so-slightly cool fluid as you swirl it around the head with your thumb, smearing the makeshift lubricant. He awaited, desperately, for the moist cavern of your mouth to engulf his length; providing him a pleasure he could only describe as enchanting. A grace upon someone of no worth such as himself.

⤷ Just his luck, he didn’t need to wait any longer as you took his tip into your mouth; attempting to adjust yourself to his girth as you flick his slit with your—flattened—tongue.

⤷ His breathing sporadic upon the unbearable pleasure and intense sensitivity, your boyfriend squirmed from beneath you as he gasped and writhed. You smiled as you ever-so-slightly took more of him in. He was so sensitive, how adorable.

⤷ You inhale through your nose as you inch downwards, ensuring you’re able to breath with every bit of him you take in. Upon his precum dribbling onto your tongue, you moan around his cock at the saltiness of the alluring concoction. The vibrations of your voice sending him through worlds of disarray as his―already uneven―breaths turn shallow.

⤷ After engulfing half of his length within your mouth, gently suckling on him with hallowed cheeks, you begin to bob your head at a moderate pace. A rhythmic pattern of harsh sucks followed by delicate blowing; all in which was rapidly inducing your boyfriend to unravel.

⤷ Wrapping your hand around his pace, you pump his length along with the bobbing of your head, providing stimulation to where your mouth is unable to reach.

⤷ Your hand clenching around his base, you bounce your forearm against his thigh with each pump of your fist; the plush limb providing steady leverage and cushion for your arm.

⤷ As the ticking of seconds pass, you increase your pace. Going faster and harder with each bob and thrust as the baritone whimpers of your boyfriend serve as an encouragement to keep going; to milk him of his high and witness him unravel before your eyes, a sight you’ve come to adore.

⤷ You’re aware that he’s nearing, for every rise of your head, his back instinctively arching to claim more of the rippling pleasure you were gracing him with.

⤷ Popping your lips off of his length, you rapidly fist his cock from his base to the crown, a speed your head seemingly unable to match as the speed proved to be too much for Nagito.

⤷ With a final pump, he comes undone; the warmth of his translucent cum coats your fist as you considerably slow your pace, allowing him to ride out his high without unintentionally overstimulating him.

⤷ His breathing heavy as the sweat accumulated upon his face inducing stray baby hairs to cling against his temple. He’s worn out; exhausted from the sheer bliss you’d blessed him with. His mind fogged with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his eyes trained upon the alluring sight before him.

⤷ Raising your hand to your lips, you swipe your tongue along your knuckles, licking up the remains of his release. Your eyes fixated onto his ghost-green orbs as his complexion darkens further, and a single thought protrudes within his mind. Another round would be nice.

[pinball77]

@richi3tozier | Plotted starter.

Pinball Vance. That’s what they called him. He was the king of pinball, the kid with the best strategy—most of the machines in this town had a high score that he beat and that others failed to surpass. Though he was known for more then that ( his short temper and violence ), playing the game was one of the few times Vance seemed relatively calm—but it was only because he was hyper focused on it as he played.

He didn’t care if people watched him. That didn’t bother him in the slightest—but it was when people started talking that it made his brow twitch, though his piercing blue gaze didn’t leave the machine at all, lips formed into a thin line as he watched intently, so extremely close to being some loser’s score and reigning supreme once more. “𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩, 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬.”

But the kid wouldn’t stop.

Richie was a sore loser—and it was clear from the annoying remarks that Vance kept hearing from him. He was getting louder and more frustrating, and eventually it caused Vance to slip; missing his chance of beating the high score by only a few points. It caused others to gasp—those that knew the rage that bubbles in the blonde’s veins as he screamed and slammed his hands on the machine before whipping his head over to the smaller boy, rushing at him and curling his fingers tightly into the fabric of his shit, slamming Richie hard into the nearest machine. Vance, unfortunately, was also a sore loser. “𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓!” he snarled, pulling the other boy back and slamming him into it again before throwing him onto the ground roughly, stepping towards him, expression filled with the fury he was about to unleash upon the other boy.

“𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐈𝐄, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓?”

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Different but the Same (epilogue)

tw: mentions of drinking, bad coping mechanisms, jealousy/envy

Word count: 1.8k

Rating: R18+/M

Omegaverse AU, Rating: 18+/M

Pairings: Iwaizumi x fem!reader, Ushijima x fem!reader

Summary: An unexpected encounter at the Inter-High tournament tossed you into a whirlwind. Being tugged between two males, two different packs, who will reign supreme in this battle for your heart?

Masterlist | prev

epilogue

“...I can’t return your feelings.” She hesitated. “No matter how much I feel drawn to you, my love for Hajime will always be stronger and it isn’t fair to you or him to take you on as my mate.” 

“I understand.” 

Everything hurt. 

A sudden gust of wind blew the scent of pine over to the two, drawing their eyes to Iwaizumi who was standing by the chain-link fence. “Thank you for allowing me to be the Omega for your pack, Ushijima-san.” He winced at the formalities. “I wish you luck in your future endeavours.” 

Ushijima gave her a stiff nod, grasping her hand softly. He pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Thank you for your kindness, (Name).” 

She gave him a soft smile, nodding at him before escaping from his grasp like water that trickled down cupped hands. The Omega made her way over to Iwaizumi who opened his arms to her. Stepping into them, Ushijima watched as Iwaizumi’s hands fell onto her waist, pulling her flush against him as he pressed the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. 

*****

Wakatoshi Ushijima would always remain in some facet of their lives. She finished the season out with the Shiratorizawa pack, letting their mark fade and leaving a faint scar. On some days, she could feel a lingering ghost of emotion through it, typically more intense emotions after events like when he lost his first professional match. Since the accidental bonding, they’d had a frank discussion about what had happened. He understood her decision, though it had broken his heart. Ushijima never did find another Omega like her. Later, he ended up marking and mating with an Omega he had met while traveling with his professional team, but there were some nights, when he looked at the sky and thought about the strawberry Omega that had slipped away from him. 

Iwaizumi and (Name) both ended up at the same university, both studying some form of sports. Iwaizumi studied sport medicine while she studied sport management with a focus on marketing. This, and the fact that Oikawa played volleyball professionally still, kept them in the loop of the going-ons of volleyball. All three of their fates would forever intertwine with volleyball. The summer after they graduated, Iwaizumi and (Name) got married, with invites extending to both the Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa packs. Though she didn’t maintain the mark, the Omega was still always included in Shiratorizawa annual reunions having won their hearts all those years ago. It wasn’t unheard of for both the teams to host reunion plans because of that. Since it was rare for Ushijima to go due to his intense schedule, they never really worried about it but whenever they encountered the Apex Alpha, they were always cordial. 

*****

Gravel crackled under their feet as they went through the pristine white gates, heading to one such gathering. A firm hand laid on her hip, the other occupied with a smaller hand. In her arm was a tray of onigiri, her other hand also similarly occupied with an even smaller hand. “Hey, (Name)! Welcome back to Japan!” 

A dazzling smile made its way to her face as she greeted her old friend. “Well, well, if it isn’t Semi Eita,” she teased. The child on her left, Daitan, held her hands out to the former setter, begging to be carried. “It’s so great to be home.” 

A few years ago, Iwaizumi had moved them out to California for an internship, and that’s where their children had been born. They’d only just gotten back to Japan a year ago.

“Oh wow, you’re getting so big Princess!” He picked up the toddler, spinning her around in greeting. 

“Eita, be careful.” Besides him was his mate, Jen, a lovely Alpha that (Name) had introduced him to from one of her college classes. 

“I’ll be back, love,” Iwaizumi’s gruff voice whispered in her ear, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before he slipped off with their son, Arakan, to join his pack-mates. 

“Uncle Tendou!” Her daughter squirmed in Semi’s arms, reaching out to the red-haired middle blocker as he suddenly appeared at Semi’s shoulder.

“Well well well! If it isn’t my little darling,” Tendou cheered, scooping the child out of Semi’s arms as he ran away. 

“There goes my children and husband,” (Name) chuckled, turning back to Semi and his mate. “How have you two been? I haven’t seen you guys since last Christmas.” He shrugged, a mischievous smile on his face as he placed a hand on his mate’s stomach. (Name)’s mouth dropped, “no, you aren’t!” They both nodded, glee on their faces.

“Twins too!” Semi chirped. His mate playfully shoved him.

“I don’t know how you manage to wrangle those two together. I’m so nervous for when these two little pups join us.” Jen rolled her eyes. “They keep me up at all hours of the night, and I get to send him on all types of late-night craving runs.” 

“Mommy, mommy!” A loud cry pierced the air as Daitan scrambled to her side, begging for the Omega’s attention. A laugh slipped from her lips as (Name) scooped her daughter up, letting her rest against the hip. “Uncle Oikawa is being mean to me!” The tanned setter appeared from the path that the toddler cleared, panting. Glancing around, she noticed Tendou preoccupied with another female. 

“I did not!” 

“Did too! He took the ball from me and wouldn’t teach me how to set.” 

The other former third-years of Aoba Johsai followed the child, jumping in as they made fun of the former captain. Semi and the two Omegas simply laughed at his reddening face. Iwaizumi came over, his hand holding tightly onto the hand of the older male toddler, who had his father’s disposition. His hand found its way to his mate’s waist again, gripping it softly as he pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. A cry from the boy had (Name) lifting Arakan onto the other side of her hip. 

****

His thundering footsteps were followed by softer ones. Her hand clutched at his, nails digging in as a citrus scent bittered in apprehension. It had been years since he had seen his pack-mates, and it had been years since his Omega had met them. The only encounter they had at their wedding had been brief. “You’ll be okay.” His deep voice filled the stagnant air as they walked under the arch. Ushijima Kei, his Omega, pursed her lips at his words but remained silent. As they entered, a warm strawberry scent overwhelmed him instantly. A sigh—almost one of relief—escaped him as his eyes wandered. His jaw relaxed as they found her. Kei’s brown eyes narrowed slightly at his reaction, noticing where his gaze fell. Citrus bittered even more at it, unnoticed by Ushijima. 

“Wakatoshi!” The spell broke as his attention was brought back to Earth, an arm thrown around his shoulder. “It’s been so long!” 

“Hello Tendou.” 

Tendou’s wide smile filled his face as he looked beyond Ushijima, his other arm supporting a young girl. “And this must be your lovely wife, Kei! You look as lovely as you did on your wedding day.” The child squirmed in his arms; Ushijima could faintly catch the smell of strawberries on her. “Off you go darling! You should go bother Oikawa,” he grinned, placing the child down as he gently pushed her in the direction of the setter. He turned back to the couple who watched as the toddler ran off. Oikawa’s loud exclamation filled the air as he scooped the child into a hug.

“Hello again, Tendou. I hope you’re well.” They continued to make small talk as they made their way to the table of food. Ushijima wanted to pick up a bottle of beer but reached for sparkling water instead. Due to his rigorous training schedule, he wasn’t allowed to enjoy small luxuries like that. As he opened the bottle to sip at it, his gaze wandered back onto her. The way the golden rays bathed her made her look like a goddess to him, almost as pretty as Aphrodite in the Greek myths of old. Her laugh tugged at his heartstrings. 

The bitter citrus scent became stiflingly warm. 

“Are you okay?” Ushijima’s gaze shifted back to his Omega, who looked uncomfortable. She shook her head, telling him that there was nothing wrong. He hummed in response. Olive eyes spotted Goshiki. “I’ll be back,” he promised, making his way towards his kouhai. Kei let out a noise of discontent, eyes flitting back to the other Omega. Tendou’s gaze followed hers, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Do you know (Name)-chan?” 

Kei froze, doe-eyes blinking at Tendou. She stammered in response as Tendou grinned benevolently. 

“Don’t worry! She was just our lovely Omega manager in our third-year of high school.” 

Hesitation filled her, citrus scorching his nose. “Wakatoshi seems...taken..with her.” 

“I’m not surprised,” Tendou hummed, sipping at his beer. “They were courting at one point.” He tilted his bottle at (Name) as they watched Iwaizumi rejoin her side. “They’d both marked her at one point, but she ended up choosing Iwaizumi instead.” 

Kei’s mouth ran dry, fist clenching at her side. “I see..” 

They surveyed the couple as the Omega’s laugh carried to them. She watched as (Name) picked up her children. Kei grabbed Tendou’s beer, finishing it off for him as his eyebrows raised at her actions. 

She and Ushijima had been married for years now, having met at one of his practice matches. As a sports medic, she had taped up his fingers when he had accidentally hurt himself serving and since then, he’d started courting her. A loud hiss sliced through the tense, stale air as another beer was opened and downed. 

They had never once talked about having pups. Nor had he ever mentioned his past, let alone the fact that he had courted and marked another woman. 

Her eyes wandered back to her mate, watching his expression. Tendou couldn’t help following her gaze, sighing as he shook his head at his best friend.   

Olive eyes were transfixed on the Omega and her children. Ushijima’s heart had both warmed and cracked at the scene. He had always imagined that she would make a wonderful mother. He just wished that it was his pups that she was carrying. Another pang of envy slipped through him as her (e/c) eyes drifted and met his olive ones. A small smile, meant only for him. Smaller, dark brown eyes swiveled to look at what her mother was smiling at. A tiny fist waved at him, a wide smile that reminded him of her appeared on the toddler’s face. If only he hadn’t let himself get lost along the way, perhaps he could have had a chance. After all, he wasn’t too different from Iwaizumi, was he?

*****

Fun facts:

Arakan means worthy one, hero

Daitan means daring, bold one

Kei means reverence, rapture

*****

A/N: Holy fuck y’all. I deadass have been working on this for months. If I’m being honest, it was up in the air of who she was going to end up with. Thank you for joining me in this monster of a self-indulgent A/B/O read. I love this type of dynamic, and I was honestly struggling to find good content so might as well, y’know?

How are we feeling? Is this what you expected? What was your favourite part about DBTS?

Please, spam my ask-box with your thoughts/comments/ideas. God I’m so emotional just posting this asdfghjkl

Just like for Lockscreens, I will be permanently opening DBTS Supplements! Feel free to send in your suggestions, ideas, and/or questions about their future. 

If you have any comments about their past, please send them my way too! I’m slowly working on a prequel for DBTS featuring Iwaizumi and (Name).

Major shout-out to everyone who has been reading from the beginning, to everyone who has joined throughout the journey, and especially to @newfriendjen​ (aka Semi’s mate) for always beta-reading for me and for letting me bounce ideas off of her! 

Taglist: @sawamooora​​  @kriswu46​​ @pantasticalcat​​ @shadowkunoichi​​ @awuariyuh​​ @4lfalfagarlic​​ @kuroowh0r3 @sourapplex​​ @pastelpuffbar​​​ @froyopet​​​ @micheleinumaki​​​ @gywjd0131​​​ @aideen00 @loudpoetry23 @kaizumi​​​ @chrisrue15​​​@aideen00 @Mayor-chu-of-many-towns @ ephemeralninon @kinkymint  @dabilove27​​​ @sol-demure​​​ @dark-mermaid25​​​ @otaku-explosion​​​ @fake-id-69 @zlatanakermann​​​ @killuaking​​​ @hxsxxk-180294​​​  @uwukris​​​ @cheerysparkle​​​ @seiijixcia​​​ @tsumue​​​ @shoyomeow​​​ @vicassa​​​ @newfriendjen​​​ @jubilee40​​​  @kiritokunuwu​​​  @cuddlesslut​​​ @terminallyvolatile​​​ @indecisivehusky​​​ @kaitycole​​​ @bioticbarbie @reaper-chan666​​​ @ash-aph​​​​ @aruhappy​​​ @fortunatelylazystranger​​​

*Bolded names were unable to be tagged

[rohad93]

RWBY - Driftwood

~ ~ ~ 

Post Volume 8 finale

~ ~ ~ 

Her whole body hurt.

Not that Ruby expected much else when she and Blake fell from the golden bridge to the inky blackness below; their aura broken.

Actually, she really expected to not even be alive. Ambrosius’s warning not to fall had echoed in her head as the pathways grew more and more distant before all light vanished, swallowed up by the inky blackness.

She could hear Blake yelling and then nothing, like being smothered with a thick blanket. There was no sound, only a dull static buzzing in her ears along with the heavy thumping of her own heartbeat. The all-encompassing darkness had been suffocating. She couldn’t breathe, but she must have somehow.

She and Blake had separated at some point and the next thing she knew, she had hit the water with all the force of a rampaging Ursa, the back of her head slamming against the water and it may as well have been cement for all the force with which she landed. She thought that she may even have blacked out for a moment before the cold water and the need for air made her eyes pop back open. It took a long second for her to orient herself, swimming up toward the light.

The swelling ocean waves and an island laid out in front of her, a towering tree reaching up toward a ruddy pink sky. She didn’t spare it more than a glance before making her way to shore.

She coughed as she crawled onto the beach, sand squelching under her fingers and knees.

The sun was warm on her back but she was numb to it as she stared blankly down at the sand, watching the rivulets of water drip from her hair and face, leaving dark splotches in the granules.

Her head pounded in time with her heavy heart and her lungs burned with fire as she gasped for air. Her limbs weighed down every movement and all Ruby wanted to do was collapse on the dark sand and never move again. The dull throb piercing every inch of her body pulled her deeper into the miasma of despair.

She forced her head up and looked around at the expanse of beach that seemed to stretch to the horizon on either side of her, blank and unchanging.

With a pained grunt, she pushed herself up off her knees, stumbling a little as she climbed to her feet.

Where even was... this?  

The trees stretching out in front of her were like nothing she had ever seen before, twisted and bent in looping knots toward the ground before their leafy tops stretched back up toward the sky.

She pushed her soaking wet hair out of her face and took a tentative step toward the trees. She was bone-weary but she forced her aching body to move just the same.

When the spirit of the staff had warned them not to fall, she had expected something else.

A bottomless abyss…

Death…

Not a tropical island.

She moved, without purpose or sense of direction through the jungle landscape. The sounds of birds cawing echoed off the trees. The foliage was thick and wild and the air was heavy and humid.

She was slowly coming back to herself the longer she moved. Feeling returned to her limbs and the haziness in her head parted some. The oppressive heat and humidity was starting to get to her and she stopped long enough to pull off the insulated shirt, letting the air finally get to her skin. Her aura was broken, so she had no way to regulate her body temperature until it regenerated. While the fall didn’t kill her, she may very well sweat to death in the thickly insulated gear now that she had left behind the bitter cold of Solitas. She threw it down in the dirt and left it there as she moved.

The water beading up on her skin was as much sweat now as it was seawater.

If she had survived the fall, then surely Yang and Blake had to be here somewhere too.

Unless…

She stopped and turned to look back in the direction of the ocean that she could no longer see through the trees and the weight of everything began to settle on her.

What if they had drowned? What if instead of landing in the water they had hit the ground?

What about Weiss? Her aura had been broken when she shoved her out of the way of Cinder’s attack. Had she fallen? Had she gotten through to Vacuo?

Or had Cinder...

Water began to gather in the corners of her eyes and her fists clenched, the leather of her gloves squeaking in her grip as a sob ripped out of her throat.

Her partner, her sister, her closest friend… was her whole team just gone… was she the only one left? What about Jaune and Penny? Were they still fighting or had they fallen too?

She choked on another sob and sank to her knees in the dirt as her sorrow wracked her body.

All she had wanted to do her entire life was help people, keep them safe from the monsters that surrounded them. Make life better, like her mother…

Her mother, who had probably been turned into a creature of grimm by Salem for her eyes. Taken every good intention and warped it into something black, ugly, and malicious.

How had everything crumbled to ruin around them, again!?

Cinder.

It was always Cinder. Ruby clenched her teeth as her body trembled.

She understood now, why her eyes reacted to the woman. Her grimm arm stuck out in Ruby’s mind.

She was a monster, in every sense of the word.

“Argh!” Ruby slammed her fist into the dirt, over and over until it throbbed and she’d spent what little energy she had left pounding a divot into the ground. Something dark and ugly had pooled in her stomach, spreading through her veins like wildfire.

Hate

Hatred so bright and hot it set her aflame from the inside out.  

Salem might have been behind it all but it was Cinder who had continued to take and destroy everything she had ever fought for, ever cared about.

The fall of Beacon, Pyrrha, Haven, her sister, her teammates!

She tasted salt as tears dripped down her face, splattering in little dark spots on the ground.

Why… Why did she keep trying?

Now they had lost two relics and everything in between.

Maybe Ironwood had been wrong but how had her plan turned out any better? What good did saving the people of Mantle and Atlas do if Salem got the relics anyway and destroyed all of Remnant?

She sat there and cried. The burning hatred ebbing away to make way for something else.

Despair

The searing hatred bubbling beneath her skin fizzled out and bitter despair took its place.

Acrid and raw, burning up the back of her throat with a fresh wave of tears.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there in the dirt, lost to the world around her as despair reigned supreme and she didn’t know how long she might have, if a distant sound hadn’t finally broken through the haze of anguish.

Ruby looked up, sniffling as she strained her ears to listen for the far-off sound that didn’t fit the noises of the jungle.

A voice.

One she would know in her sleep.

“Ruby… Blake…. Yang!”

Was that…?

She scrambled to her feet and took off running in the direction of the voice calling her name as it grew louder and loud.

“Ruby!”

Ruby panted as she ripped through the thick jungle undergrowth, never slowing even as branches and plants whipped at her face. She was unconscious to it all; nothing penetrated except the sound of the voice growing ever closer and the furious pounding in her ears as she tore through the trees.

She burst through the tree line and skid to a stop the moment her eyes landed on the bright spot of blue and white in front of her that stood out like a beowulf at a dinner party among the dark greens of the jungle.

Weiss whipped around at the commotion she’d made and her eyes widened as they landed on her partner.

“Ruby!” She all but screamed before dashing forward and Ruby’s feet were moving without her even realizing until she crashed painfully into Weiss, arms wrapping around her in a near stranglehold. Ruby would take any pain in the world if it meant seeing her face again.

“Ruby... You’re okay…” She heard Weiss’s strained and desperate words against her ear and she squeezed her all the tighter as tears again started to gather in her eyes.

“Weiss…,” she choked, burying her face in the other woman’s neck. Her grip on Weiss remained air-tight but her knees were folding beneath her and the next thing she knew they were kneeling in the dirt, clinging desperately to each other. She could feel the cool drops of water dripping onto her shoulder where Weiss’s head was pressed against hers. They squeezed each other for a long, handful of minutes, relief washing over them.  

Eventually, they pulled back but didn’t go far, still clinging tightly to each other.

“Are you okay?” Ruby asked, silver eyes darting across Weiss’s tear-stained face as she stared back at her, nodding.

“Yes… I…” She sniffled. “I was afraid that you…,” she trailed off and if possible, Ruby’s hold tightened.

Her mind was still foggy with everything that had happened but the sheer relief she felt now that Weiss was here, in front of her, was like a ray of sunlight piercing the dark clouds of her misery.

“I’m not hurt…,” she assured, pulling back to grip Weiss’s shoulders, her thumbs running soothingly back and forth over her shoulders. She couldn’t say she was okay. Okay was the last thing she was right now. She was alive, and for now, that would have to be enough.

“Have you seen Yang or Blake?” Weiss asked, releasing her hold on her partner and Ruby shook her head.

“What happened after I fell, Weiss?” she asked and Weiss’s lips pursed, tears continuing their slow trek down her cheeks.

“Cinder took the relic…,” Weiss said quietly and Ruby’s jaw tightened, teeth clicking together.

“Did Penny at least get to Vacuo?” she asked and Weiss froze, eyes flickering to her lap and fingers curling into tight fists against the top of her thighs.

If she closed her eyes, she could still see it.

Penny’s body, an hour into becoming a living girl of flesh and bone, lying lifeless on the ground and Jaune’s sword, stained with dark, crimson blood.

She looked up at Ruby’s questioning face and swallowed thickly. How badly she didn’t want to say the words sitting like rocks in her mouth; but she had to.

“Penny…” Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips. “Penny was injured… and we didn't have the time to heal her. She… asked Jaune to kill her, so Cinder wouldn’t get the maiden powers…,” she trailed off, voice growing lower with the words. She could feel Ruby’s grip on her shoulders tighten into a white-knuckle grip and winced at the nails biting into her skin.

“He did…,” she mumbled and Ruby’s grip on her tightened for a brief second before she ripped her hands away and shot to her feet, turning on her heel and walking a few feet away before she stopped as Weiss scrambled up to follow her.

The air around them was tense and quiet, the chirping of the birds and rustling of the trees in the breeze were the only sounds between them.

Weiss didn’t know what to say as she stared at her leader’s back, watching the growing trembling in her frame.

Ruby hunkered forward, body shaking, then suddenly, jerked back, headshot back as a scream filled the air.

Cold chills ran up Weiss’s spine as she watched, wide-eyed and lips parted in silent shock as Ruby wailed up at the coral-colored sky.

The howl faded, turning into choked sobs and that knocked Weiss’s feet loose as she rushed to close the distance between them.

“Ruby…” She lifted a hand but stopped short.

“Why… Why Penny… why again!?” Ruby choked on her choppy breaths in between sobs. Weiss frowned, stepping closer.

“She wanted to keep the power safe from Cinder at all costs… to do the right thing. What she thought was right, like you would have…” She jerked back, eyes wide as Ruby whipped around.

“When have I ever done the right thing!?” Ruby screamed, slapping a hand to her chest. “Everything I’ve done, every decision I’ve made has only made everything worse!” she choked as tears dripped down her cheeks. “We lost the lamp, we lost the staff, we lost Penny…. again! All I am is a failure!” she screamed before sobs rocked her body and she crumpled to the ground in a heap, hands pressed to her face.

Weiss quickly crossed the remaining distance between them to kneel in front of the sobbing young woman. Her body shook and her head hung, refusing to meet Weiss’s eyes.

“Ruby, no… You’re not a failure…,” she said quietly but there was steel in her voice. “You are the bravest and kindest person I’ve ever known, Ruby. You always try to do the right thing and you’ve made some mistakes, we all have! You can’t know everything… you can’t be perfect!”

“I can’t do anything right, why do I keep trying? Everything just blows up in my face!” Ruby finally looked up at her, eyes rimmed with red and lips pulled back over her teeth. The fury and desolation flickering in her eyes struck at Weiss’s very core.

It broke Weiss’s heart to watch Ruby crack and fracture under all the pressure that had been building for months. She’d always been amazed at how strong Ruby had remained through everything but even her fearless and intrepid partner had finally reached her breaking point. The weight of their world having finally settled on her young shoulders.

Weiss bit her lip, feeling helpless just sitting there as Ruby continued to cry.

“You try… because that’s who you are, Ruby,” she said quietly. Reaching out to lay a gentle hand on Ruby’s forearm. “You want to make things better, you want everyone to be better and you actually work toward it, every day. You don’t just say it, you do.” Weiss squeezed. “Yang and Blake… you’ve helped them so much… you’ve helped me, more than I know how to say,” she mumbled. “You help everyone.”

Ruby’s cries quieted but they didn’t stop.

“I haven’t helped anyone lately… every decision I made was wrong,” was the gravelly answer and Weiss frowned, tears pricking her eyes as she watched her partner unravel before her eyes.

“I know that things have gone wrong… but you can’t do everything, you can’t fix it all. All we can do is try and you do. More than anyone I've ever known.” Weiss gave another squeeze as Ruby sniffled. “You’re…”

She hesitated, words stalled on her tongue. Words that had been sitting in her mouth, unsaid for some months now but there had just never been a good or right time for them to be said. Weiss was starting to think that maybe there never would be a good time.

“You’re amazing, Ruby. You make me want to do better and be better and that’s… that’s one of the things I… I love about you…,” she murmured, eyes trained on the ground between them. Ruby looked up at her, silver eyes glossy and red as tears continued their trek down her flushed cheeks.

“There’s no one else like you in all of Remnant and I don’t know what I would do without you to lead us, to remind us why we're doing this, why we have to do this. You inspire us… you inspire me .” She finally looked up and blue met silver for a long, silent moment. The buzz of cicadas and murmur of the birds in the distance being the only sounds between them for a long few moments.  

Ruby leaned forward and buried her face into Weiss’s shoulder and continued to cry. Not the earth-shaking sobs from before, just quiet, grieving tears.

Weiss wrapped her arms around her as tears fell from her own eyes, quietly carding a hand through the black and red strands of hair.

They sat there a long while, long enough that the sun had started to dip below the horizon, casting warm rays of orange light and the long, twisted shadows of the trees overhead.

Finally, Ruby pulled back and scrubbed at her raw cheeks with the back of her gloved hands.

“I don’t know what to do…,” she admitted sullenly.

“We’ll figure it out… like we always do,” Weiss said, giving another assuring squeeze and Ruby nodded. “It’s going to be dark soon, we should find some shelter,” She glanced at the sun sitting just over the horizon.

“Right…” Ruby climbed up on her numb legs, Weiss helping her as she pulled her to stand.

She went to pull her hand away but Ruby’s fingers wrapped around hers only tightened and Weiss looked at her, curiously.

Silver eyes were gazing back at her with an unreadable expression.

“Weiss…” She seemed to hesitate. “When... when you said you… loved me…,” her voice petered out and Weiss felt the embarrassment crawling up her throat. “Did… how did you… mean that?” she asked at last.

Weiss’s first instinct was to lie. To save face and not admit to this thing that had kept her up at night for a while now, right along with thoughts of Salem.

She wasn’t sure which she preferred to be the thing keeping her up at night.

Something about the barely held together look in her partner’s face though brushed away that instinct.

“I meant… I love you, Ruby. I’m… in love with you,” she finally said and watched the expression on Ruby’s face shift to total shock as her own face warmed.

“You… I…,” Ruby stuttered, unsure what to say.

“We don’t need to talk about this right now, Ruby…” Weiss cut her off before she could say anything else and Ruby’s jaw snapped shut from where it had been hanging open. They stared at each other for a long moment before she nodded.

“Right… later,” It was a promise.

Weiss nodded but felt Ruby give her hand another squeeze before finally letting it go. “We need to find shelter and we can look for Blake and Yang in the morning… there should be more people than just us that fell from the pathways,” she said and moved toward the trees with Weiss in tow. She was relieved to see a little life breathed back into her leader, even if she still looked broken.

That was okay. One step at a time and even if Ruby fell apart, Weiss would be there, to help her pick up the pieces.

[avada-kedavrugh]

Murderer.

You confront Draco Malfoy after the death of Dumbledore. A lot of angst occurs. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought? 

Pairing | Draco x Reader

Genre | Angst

Words | 2373

Warning | Mentions of war, depression, suicide kinda?, death, swearing. 

Fired on by your pure rage and fury, a bitter feeling building in your chest, you stormed through the corridors, crashing into other students which only served to anger you more.  

People frantically dodged you as you went on your rampage. Your flared nostrils, blazing eyes and the way your veins bulged from your clenched fists were a clear warning sign of your emotions. Anger. And no one wanted to get in the way of you now.

You muttered under your breath, letting the bitter feeling burn in your chest and immerse your emotions. A baptism into a pool of hatred and anger - spurred only by your need for revenge.  

A range of savage insults and curses left your lips, a sinful symphony all aimed at one person. No one could even hear you but inside your mind the words blared.

“Draco Malfoy, you murderer.”

As the light shrunk away, you took stock of your surrounding and realised you were nearing the common room. Slowing down, you realised you didn’t even know what you would say to him. The bitter feeling in your chest had spread across your body and had now marinated every bone in your body and had spurred you on your rampage. Now your mind was empty. All the bitter words that had rushed through your head now vanished and you were dumbfounded by this new found silence in your head.  

Shaking yourself a little, you hoped that your anger was all you needed to keep you going. Draco Malfoy would get what he deserved. After all he’s done. With that, you felt your legs move forward again as the bitterness consumed you.

The only light from the depths of darkness were weak torches that flickered in the cold air that lapped at your robes as you stormed along. In the darkness, your eyes fell upon a Slytherin student minding their own business.

“Where is he?” You hissed. The student’s eyes darted to you, struggling to make you out in the dim-lit halls, your own eyes glared back at him. Burning through him, the dark glint in your eyes seemed to flicker in your eyes as you glared at him.

His eyebrows fell in a look of confusion and then irritation as he grunted back.

“Who?”

“Who? Who? What are you a flipping owl? Draco Malfoy! Tell him to come here and show his repulsive face.” You snapped at the boy.

The student’s irritated look switched to one of pure anger as he sneered at you. As he took a bellowing step towards you, his large figure entering the light and casting a dark shadow over you. Perhaps stupidly, you took a step towards him. The bitterness in your mind clouding your judgement. You were not about to back down and you definitely not let anything or anyone get in the way of the justice you sought to give out.

A venomous feeling pooled in your throat. You felt something cruel inside you tug at your body. As if you were just a puppet of some supreme being. Taking full control of your mind.  

You felt a pull as your hand moved towards your wand. As curses, even you in your clouded state of mind knew you should never use, teased you from the darkest depths of your mind.  

For a second. A split second. You saw the student’s face fall in a jumble of shock and fear. Then he seemed to immediately compose himself, his own body mirroring yours as he reached for his own wand. No doubt he had no idea just how cursed your thoughts were. How this raging soldier inside of you would stop at nothing to get to Draco.

Any doubts in your mind vanished as you raced to pull out your wand.

Grasping it in front of you.  

Pointing it at the boy.  

Taking another step forward, closing the gap between you and the boy, you found the dark shadow cast over you grow as the boy became illuminated by the torch above him.

The light cast over him and his face became clearer. A new feeling pooled over you. Your hand trembled and your grasp on your wand was weak.  

You didn’t even know his name.

The bitter feeling reigning over you tried to push that aside. The hymn of cruel words demanded that you hurt him.

But instead you stood facing the boy. Heart pounding in your chest and drowning out the cruel words.

Taking a deep breath and desperately holding onto your wand, you opened your mouth to speak.

“Why are you looking for me?” A cruel voice sneered out.

Through your vision that was covered with a thin tearful shroud, you saw a shapeless silhouette, the wicked beast ahead of you. The killer. Without even being able to see his features, a match was ignited inside your chest, a scorching sensation that erupted inside you, filling your whole body with anger. Your heart become a ball of fire at the sight of the man who caused such pain and rage inside you.  

“You murderer!” You accused, the bitterness inside you flaring up as you lost control of your body again. Letting whatever evil being that was within you take over. Brandishing your wand at him. Pointing it towards Draco. You felt the blisters forming on your hand as you clutched your wand with some new found strength.

The figure stepped forwards from the darkness. Joining you under the light of the torch, his face was illuminated. The symphony of spiteful words returned to you as you came face to face with the man you despised. His piercing gaze burning into your soul.

The other Slytherin boy had run away into the darkness. Perhaps to get help or an audience. Or perhaps just looking to escape the battle that would occur.  

Draco Malfoy. You wanted to kill him. You had to kill him. He was the one who caused all this. He had ruined everything. Dumbledore was dead. Because of him.  

“I don’t know what you think but I don’t think you want to make an enemy of me,” His words chastised you. Chuckling to himself, Draco’s amusement only created a sick feeling inside your stomach. His cruel mannerisms etched into your mind. Then he stopped laughing, his eyes piercings yours as he said with a menacing smirk. “Besides, aren’t you a filthy mudblood?”  

With that, any rationality that had lingered in your mind was burnt into a pile of ashes that was swept quickly aside as you succumbed to your scorching rage.  

You barrelled towards him. Giving him no time to respond. His callous hands grabbed onto you. The feeling of his murderous, cold fingers on you seemed to burn your skin at the very touch. You fell with him. Desperately holding onto him to save yourself. His body collapsed to the ground with you following quickly behind him. You found yourself on top of him. Your face inches away from the face of a murderer.

For a second you were both stunned, his grip on you loosened and instead his eyes seemed to probe through every corner of your mind. Regaining your senses, the anger quickly found itself back into your body.

“You murderer!” You spat at him, your spit mixing with the tears that stung your eyes and rained down on him. You thrashed against him as you urged for him to fight back and yet he seemed to have accepted his fate as he kept still beneath you. His cold stare on you sent a chill down your spine. Stopping the fire inside of you in its tracks as you stared back at him. For a second the anger in you faltered, replaced with a momentary confusion as his eyes flickered with something unrecognisable within the Death Eater before you.

Murderer.  

The thought returned to your mind. You were being tricked by him. He wanted you to let your guard down so he could murder you. Dumbledore had let his guard down and now he was dead. Now Hogwarts was controlled by the Death Eaters. Now everything you loved was gone or in danger.  

All because of him.

The bitterness seared every cell of your body. You let the scorching anger control you as your arms continued their merciless onslaught.  

Murderer.

You jumped away from him as you felt his cold hands on yours. Stopping your hands in their path. Jolting you out of your thoughts. You scrambled away from him.  

You weren’t going to let him trick you. You remained on the floor.  

Hunched over like a scared animal trying to protect yourself from the man in front of you. Keeping your distance from him. Your hands now twitching to move and grab your wand.  

Draco moved to kneel and his face came to a rest a few inches from you.

Both of you sat. Staring at each other with intense looks. Your eyes were burning with the bitter contempt that had ravaged you and his eyes returned a cold, blank look that were still bespeckled with emotion you didn’t recognise.

His own face so close to yours, you could see every detail of his face. The way his icy eyes were sunken and weary, adorned by lavender bags that would match the bruises that you caused on his pale skin. His pale skin contrasted with the black shadows that fell around you. Even with the anger you felt, you felt a tug of a new emotion. Pity. He looked empty and you wondered if he had always looked like that or if that was the result of your attack.

A waterfall of tears escaped your eyes. For a moment, the look in his eyes became clearer and the realisation made you want to crumble to the floor.  

He was looking at you with concern.  

Your breath caught at the realisation. His eyes penetrated your thoughts with his look of concern. Your barbaric thoughts battled against the new feelings of guilt that now terrorised your mind. Your grip on your wand loosened. And then you saw it.

The dark match etched onto his arm. It was only a glimpse from where his sleeves had been hastily rolled up. But now your eyes were set upon the reminder.

His eyes followed yours and then widened as you lifted your wand, pointing it towards him.

Inside your mind, the symphony of cruel thoughts rung out. Urging you to take your revenge. In the darkness of the halls, you could see Draco’s eyes as he stared at you.

The concern had left them and instead there was a blank slate, the look of an exhausted man who had accepted his penalty. The light above the two of you, shone down on him, illuminating him and letting you see the man you were about to kill. As if it were some twisted punishment. You sat in the shadows. Avoiding the light to avoid seeing your grip on your wand, the hands of someone who was about to become a killer. The cold air seemed to suffocate you as you tried to steady your breathing but all you could hear was your chest heaving.  

“I didn’t kill him.” His words rang out, cutting through the sound of your breaths.

Your eyebrows fell in confusion though your wand remained pointed accusedly, refusing to let your fear become visible as you willed your hands to remain still.

“What did you say?” You hesitated. Your eyes widened at his words. Mind racing. Was this another lie? The cruel alter ago within you pleaded with you to ignore him, to keep your guard up but the look on his face, the look of a broken man, made you stop.

“I didn’t kill Dumbledore.” Draco’s hand slowly moved towards your wand, making gentle movements as if you were a scared creature.

“Don’t lie to me,” You shoved your wand against his chest, stopping him in his movements, your wand dug against him. Marking his heart with remains of your wage. His breathing remained steady as he took in your frightened form “You’re a killer!”

“I know that’s what everyone thinks. But I didn’t.” He choked out “I couldn’t.”

He watched the fury in you smoulder. His own tearful eyes suddenly flickered with determination as he made a sudden move towards you.

“But I still deserve this.” His hands went to yours. His cold hands grasped yours and thrusted your wand further into his chest. His grip on the wand was strong, his knuckles turning white, breathing too hard and too fast.

You both stared intently into each other's eyes. His blank state had now transformed into a look of desperation, his eyes welling with tears as he silently pleaded with you. You took in the sight of him as he tried to shove down the sobs that threatened to escape him. Your own anger had vanished, the tug of humanity returning, as you stared at the broken man before you. His hands trembled a little as he clasped your hand on your wand.  

You ripped your hands away from his hold and the wand clattered to the floor between you. Mixing with the sounds of the anguished sobs that escaped Draco’s lips. Creating a new symphony that would mark the emotions of the war to come.  

“Please kill me.” He whispered. One final, desperate prayer to you.  

You came here to kill him. Instead you found your arms coming to clasp his body. A feeble attempt to hold him together as he appeared to break down in front of you. You hoped no one would come now as you embraced him. Letting his tears fall like a waterfall down onto the floor, gathering on your wand and soaking your arms as they wrapped around him.  

All bitterness and fury had now vanished and all you felt now was compassion.  

One day you would be made to pick a side and might have to face this boy in battle but now you would let your humanity tug at you.

Holding him in your arms as he continued to cry. The murderer.

Or maybe just a broken man.  

A boy who was the victim of a war.